Fatal traffic accidents caught on tape

I (33F) just discovered my husband (33M) is a compulsive liar. Will he ever truly change?

2024.05.16 08:09 Conscious_Piglet7301 I (33F) just discovered my husband (33M) is a compulsive liar. Will he ever truly change?

I’ve been with my husband for 2 years now, married 6 months. I caught him out in a lie last weekend and it’s unravelled so many things. So many times that I thought that what he was saying was strange, or seemed far-fetched all make sense now. The lies aren’t even big or to hide something that would hurt someone’s feelings, it’s just small stuff but the lie is what makes it huge for me.

It’s clear now that he’s a compulsive liar and I don’t know if I want to go forward with the marriage, or if there’s even any point. Can a compulsive liar ever really change?

I’ll give a couple of examples to provide a bit of context:

EXAMPLE 1
May 2022 - When we met he in May 2022, he told me he had tried to kill himself, that it was a split second decision and to never tell his parents because it would crush them. I dutifully kept his secret.
11 May 2024 - I found out that there was someone else in the car from an offhand comment made by one of his parents. When I asked him laterwhy he had lied about it, he said that he didn’t remember the crash, has no memories before or for a while after. I asked why he would try to kill himself with someone else in the car. He maintained that “it was a bit about killing myself”, before restating that he had no memory and “I don’t know what to tell you”. Very defensive, yelling and crying.
14 May 2024 - I asked him again, saying that either he has lied to me since we met, or he tried to take someone else out with him. He said he didn’t remember but that he thought it was suicide because he was so deeply unhappy at that time in his life. I said “so you tried to take your girlfriend out with you? Because that’s murder”. He then said he didnt know the real reason. I then asked why he would definitively tell me it was a suicide attempt if he didn’t know the real reason. He couldn’t tell me. I then asked why he seemed to remember specifics when I asked him at the start of the relationship (“I was driving home from dads after dinner, it was a split second decision”) but now couldn’t even tell me if it was an accident or suicide. Admitted that it was silly to claim suicide attempt, but still didnt admit to lying.

EXAMPLE 2
December 2023, - I received a black sapphire bracelet from my mum for Christmas. Boxing Day, he told me that “oh black sapphire! it’s just like the ring mum got you”. I asked him what he was talking about, and he said he didn't know. I said “no, your mum got me emerald earrings”. He said “ah yes that’s what I must have been thinking about”. I knew something was up but I left it at that because we were at family's house.
Later I asked him directly if his mum had given a black sapphire ring to his ex. He said no, he was just confused about the earrings. I said I wouldn’t care, but that I don't want to be lied to. He said no, he was just confused.
Two weeks later his mum was on the phone on speaker (she didn't realise she was on speaker) and she said “I’ve asked for that sapphire ring back from [ex] and given it to [sisterin law]”. I told him “I fucking knew it, why did you lie to me?” He said he didn't remember and that he genuinely got confused, and that he was “an idiot” for not remembering. I told him I’d be far more upset about being lied to than I would about a gift your mum gave to someone before we met. He said “I know, and that’s why I’m not lying to you!”
14 May 2024, I brought this issue up again in the context of the other lies. The conversation went like this:
Me: Why did you lie to me about that, even when your mum mentioned it?
Him: I already told you, I got confused, I totally forgot
Me: How did you forget when I asked you directly, with specifics? I asked you “Did your mum give a black sapphire ring to [ex’s name]” and you told me no.
Him: I got my wires crossed, I was talking about the earrings
Me: but you specifically mentioned a black sapphire ring, which was exactly what it was.
Him: I don’t remember who she gave it to.
Me: So you do remember there was a ring… then why didn’t it jog your memory when I asked you directly?
Him: I already apologised for this, we’ve been through this
Me: What? No, after your mum got off the phone, you told me again that you’d forgot about it and you couldn’t remember anything about it.
Him: Yeah, after the phone call with mum - we had a conversation the next day which I vividly remember where I told you I lied so as not to hurt your feelings.
I have no recollection of this conversation, but it would directly contradict claims he made seconds prior about ‘getting his wires crossed’, thinking it was about my earrings, and having no memory of it. When I asked why he had contradicted himself, he said he didn’t understand.

There are actually many more examples like this, and I can provide them if more info is needed. But over and over again, I’ve told him that I can handle the truth, but begged him not to lie to me. I caught him out in a lie in the first couple of months of us dating. When he said it was to protect my feelings, I told him that I would rather the truth than a lie from him. He promised never to lie to me again.

Over the last couple of years, he has sent me texts like:
“I felt absolutely stupid and embarrassed when I lied to you ages ago. And I told you it will not happen again. And it hasn’t.”
“I don’t lie to you”
“I’m so glad I have you. I can be my true self with you. I love the complete openness and honesty in our relationship. All we want is the best for one another”
”I asked myself something last night about us. Just in quiet reflection. Would I tell you everything and anything even if it would upset you? Like would I even make up little white lies to avoid anything crappy and I was like nah. I am cellophane with you. But frosted glass with everyone else”
“I love you so much. I promise to tell you everything and always devote myself to you”
He has repeatedly told me that he would never lie to me as “you know everything anyway, do you think I could lie to you?”

When faced with all of the above, he admits that he's got a problem with lying and says he’s turned a new leaf, that he knows what he needs to do, and that from now on it will be complete honesty. But in light of everything, how do I know that this is the truth, and not another lie?? All of my trust in him has gone, along with any respect I had for him. Everything he's saying to me just feels like lip service.

Tl;dr – husband is a compulsive liar. Can I believe him when he says he will change?

submitted by Conscious_Piglet7301 to relationships [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 08:09 Conscious_Piglet7301 I (33F) just discovered my husband (33M) is a compulsive liar. Will he ever truly change?

I’ve been with my husband for 2 years now, married 6 months. I caught him out in a lie last weekend and it’s unravelled so many things. So many times that I thought that what he was saying was strange, or seemed far-fetched all make sense now. The lies aren’t even big or to hide something that would hurt someone’s feelings, it’s just small stuff but the lie is what makes it huge for me.

It’s clear now that he’s a compulsive liar and I don’t know if I want to go forward with the marriage, or if there’s even any point. Can a compulsive liar ever really change?

I’ll give a couple of examples to provide a bit of context:

EXAMPLE 1
May 2022 - When we met he in May 2022, he told me he had tried to kill himself, that it was a split second decision and to never tell his parents because it would crush them. I dutifully kept his secret.
11 May 2024 - I found out that there was someone else in the car from an offhand comment made by one of his parents. When I asked him laterwhy he had lied about it, he said that he didn’t remember the crash, has no memories before or for a while after. I asked why he would try to kill himself with someone else in the car. He maintained that “it was a bit about killing myself”, before restating that he had no memory and “I don’t know what to tell you”. Very defensive, yelling and crying.
14 May 2024 - I asked him again, saying that either he has lied to me since we met, or he tried to take someone else out with him. He said he didn’t remember but that he thought it was suicide because he was so deeply unhappy at that time in his life. I said “so you tried to take your girlfriend out with you? Because that’s murder”. He then said he didnt know the real reason. I then asked why he would definitively tell me it was a suicide attempt if he didn’t know the real reason. He couldn’t tell me. I then asked why he seemed to remember specifics when I asked him at the start of the relationship (“I was driving home from dads after dinner, it was a split second decision”) but now couldn’t even tell me if it was an accident or suicide. Admitted that it was silly to claim suicide attempt, but still didnt admit to lying.

EXAMPLE 2
December 2023, - I received a black sapphire bracelet from my mum for Christmas. Boxing Day, he told me that “oh black sapphire! it’s just like the ring mum got you”. I asked him what he was talking about, and he said he didn't know. I said “no, your mum got me emerald earrings”. He said “ah yes that’s what I must have been thinking about”. I knew something was up but I left it at that because we were at family's house.
Later I asked him directly if his mum had given a black sapphire ring to his ex. He said no, he was just confused about the earrings. I said I wouldn’t care, but that I don't want to be lied to. He said no, he was just confused.
Two weeks later his mum was on the phone on speaker (she didn't realise she was on speaker) and she said “I’ve asked for that sapphire ring back from [ex] and given it to [sisterin law]”. I told him “I fucking knew it, why did you lie to me?” He said he didn't remember and that he genuinely got confused, and that he was “an idiot” for not remembering. I told him I’d be far more upset about being lied to than I would about a gift your mum gave to someone before we met. He said “I know, and that’s why I’m not lying to you!”
14 May 2024, I brought this issue up again in the context of the other lies. The conversation went like this:
Me: Why did you lie to me about that, even when your mum mentioned it?
Him: I already told you, I got confused, I totally forgot
Me: How did you forget when I asked you directly, with specifics? I asked you “Did your mum give a black sapphire ring to [ex’s name]” and you told me no.
Him: I got my wires crossed, I was talking about the earrings
Me: but you specifically mentioned a black sapphire ring, which was exactly what it was.
Him: I don’t remember who she gave it to.
Me: So you do remember there was a ring… then why didn’t it jog your memory when I asked you directly?
Him: I already apologised for this, we’ve been through this
Me: What? No, after your mum got off the phone, you told me again that you’d forgot about it and you couldn’t remember anything about it.
Him: Yeah, after the phone call with mum - we had a conversation the next day which I vividly remember where I told you I lied so as not to hurt your feelings.
I have no recollection of this conversation, but it would directly contradict claims he made seconds prior about ‘getting his wires crossed’, thinking it was about my earrings, and having no memory of it. When I asked why he had contradicted himself, he said he didn’t understand.

There are actually many more examples like this, and I can provide them if more info is needed. But over and over again, I’ve told him that I can handle the truth, but begged him not to lie to me. I caught him out in a lie in the first couple of months of us dating. When he said it was to protect my feelings, I told him that I would rather the truth than a lie from him. He promised never to lie to me again.

Over the last couple of years, he has sent me texts like:
“I felt absolutely stupid and embarrassed when I lied to you ages ago. And I told you it will not happen again. And it hasn’t.”
“I don’t lie to you”
“I’m so glad I have you. I can be my true self with you. I love the complete openness and honesty in our relationship. All we want is the best for one another”
”I asked myself something last night about us. Just in quiet reflection. Would I tell you everything and anything even if it would upset you? Like would I even make up little white lies to avoid anything crappy and I was like nah. I am cellophane with you. But frosted glass with everyone else”
“I love you so much. I promise to tell you everything and always devote myself to you”
He has repeatedly told me that he would never lie to me as “you know everything anyway, do you think I could lie to you?”

When faced with all of the above, he admits that he's got a problem with lying and says he’s turned a new leaf, that he knows what he needs to do, and that from now on it will be complete honesty. But in light of everything, how do I know that this is the truth, and not another lie?? All of my trust in him has gone, along with any respect I had for him. Everything he's saying to me just feels like lip service.
tl;dr - husband is a compulsive liar. Can I believe him when he says he will change?
submitted by Conscious_Piglet7301 to marriageadvice [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 08:04 Imanalienlol Giant rock bass i thought was a small mouth based on its fight and it hit my 5 inch senko regret not measuring it, help me feel better like its a rock bass who cares but it was massive and potentially in the range of the state record i came to find out.

I fucked up and didnt measure or even take a photo of this behemoth of a rock bass i caught yesterday. I was took focused on getting to the spots I was really looking to fish when I hooked up on an absolute monster. I wish i'd gotten a measurement, it was right around 12 inches long by estimation, I'm fairly close within an inch or less estimating the length of fish as I always make a guess before getting an official measurement so Im pretty confident with my estimations.
It was long, tall and plump., i dont know what the fuck i was thinking to move along with it so quickly. I guess its mostly due to working out of a kayak not designed for fishing, not having a measuring board ( i have a tape on hand but its a bitch to access, and it was getting to be prime time for fishing and hastily admired and tossed it back). Only after as i was fishing and thinking did i start to get the feeling that was a pretty ridiculous fish and I was bummed to have not recorded it. I dreaded looking up the state record for Minnesota and its like 13 inches and 2 pounds, this fish I caught was in the range. I thought it was a small mouth bass when i was reeling it in by how hard it fought and catching a glimpse of the red eye before i got it closer to reveal it was indeed a rock bass. this was on a weightless wacky worm too 5 inch senko. WTH.
I've only really gotten back into fishing in the last year, i grew up catching rock bass and shit and have that stigma of its a junk fish, even tho for the record Ive eaten them when i was young and i remember it being really good actually lol. Im sure it wasn't the state record.. but damn i lowkey wonder if it had some potential haha. talk me down, help me feel better haha, do individual fish stick to an area for a period of time before water temps change/ spawning etc other factors come into play? Maybe ill hook up with that thing again and get a real measurement on it.
submitted by Imanalienlol to bassfishing [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 08:03 GiversBot /u/Heatherbanana1984 [REQ] was deleted from /r/borrow on 2024-05-16 (t3_iygmob up 1330.46 days, LONGTAIL)

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[REQ] ($2000) (#Douglasville, GA, US) (Repay $2500 with payments starting on 10/09/2020) (PayPal, Venmo, CashApp)

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I need to get caught up on some bills and I know this is a larger amount than I have requested in the past, but I have a good loan history and will definitely be able to pay back. I can make monthy loan payments of $200 for 12 months, with an additional $100 the last month. Honestly, it will be paid off before the 12 months. I'm getting a settlement from a car accident by the end of the year and can pay the full amount back then. I'm just in a tight spot at the moment and really need to pay my rent and car insurance.
submitted by GiversBot to borrowdeletes [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 07:50 Eclecticfart Pissed at the state of California and State Farm

I recently purchased a used car from a friend and tried to insure it. My old car broke down in the fall, and after trying to fix it for months, I decided to cut my losses and had it junked. So after paying for car insurance for about 6 months on the car and not driving it I cancelled the insurance. When I did this, State Farm did not tell me I would have to re-apply for insurance and there would be a chance I would be dropped.
Fast forward to today. I thought I would be able to just purchase a new policy and have car insurance that day since I have had State Farm for 15+ years and I have other insurance policies with them including whole life insurance and renters insurance. They tell me that I have to reapply since I canceled my policy and I would take 2 weeks for the policy to be effective. New law in California apparently. Then I get a voicemail saying that they will not cover me because I had 2 accidents last winter.
This is what upsets me-
-the agent never told me that this was a possibility when I cancelled my insurance. They did offer to pause the policy until I got a new care but did not specify there was a chance I would not be able to receive a new policy under the new regulations and my driving history.
-both of my accidents were minor and a result of bad weather and road conditions. Where I live, we had record breaking snowfall. I worked as a first responder which required me to drive in atrocious weather to and from work so I could help people, I did not have a choice to not drive during bad weather and storms because it was my job to be on duty those days. My town was literally declared to be in an official state of emergency. FEMA and the National Guard were present, not that this is relevant to car insurance just painting a picture.
-My two dumb accidents were sliding down an icy road coming home from work and hitting my coworker who had slid in the same spot into a snow bank in front of me and was stuck in the the road and couldn’t avoid him and the other one was accidentally backing into someone very lightly in a parking lot where there were 10+ foot snow banks, I couldn’t see, and slightly dented the back panel of his truck with my spare tire.
I’m not claiming to have no fault, I am not a perfect driver or person but I feel like I could have been given more information from my agent before canceling my policy. I have been with this particular agent for 10 years.
I know this post is long and the chances of it being read are probably low, but if anyone has any insight, that would be great.
submitted by Eclecticfart to Car_Insurance_Help [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 07:38 Mountain_Counter929 Making Aliens based off every pokemon type combination (Fighting)

Fighting/Normal: OHKO (One Punch Man but instead of one effortless punch it’s a touch of death combo he has to )
Species: Mugen
Planet: Sonof
Appearance
Powers and Abilities
Weaknesses/Drawback
Species/Planet Fact: The Mugen started as semi-organic creations by a long dead civilization who sought to try experiments designing different types of warriors. Eventually the planet will be inhabited by foreign researchers. These researchers have been working on enhancing them with various effects to increase their capabilities, and give them more movement and combat options. But during testing it was discovered that watching the Mugen fight with or without enhancements is incredibly entertaining resulting and a strong source of combat study. This discovery redirected their experiments being used for sports instead of warfare even preventing what would’ve been an interplanetary war by turning it into a competitive sport, exploding the planet in popularity. During this explosion there was the discovery of a single fight between two Mugen that have went on for centuries before the first immigration and has been fiercely protected from interruptions since its discovery.
Fighting/Grass: Doungwun Nemetrix predator of the Chunwin (See Kung book in Grass Types)
Appearance
Hunting Method
Planet/Species Fact: Despite the Doungwun seemingly biologically engineered to beat Cunwin on one to one combat, countering their various techniques. They rather take less ‘honorable’ tactics whenever possible. In populated areas they’d quickly overwhelm their prey with high numbers and quickly attack before the Chunwin gets a chance to swing. If there are aren’t any others nearby it’ll try to ambush its prey from hard to reach angles in the air. Only when it’s alone and has caught the attention of its prey, will it attach itself and engage its prey in close range combat. Most Chunwin societies simply use traps, or other tools to protect themselves from these predators. But a predator that chooses to engage in a one on one duel is more respected and results in a more respected death (for either one). So some Chunwin warriors leave themselves open to solo Doungwun attacks as some form of test.
Fighting/Fire: Racaln the Nemetrix predator of the Clabestro (See Firing Squad in Fire types)
Appearance
Hunting Method
Planet/Species Fact: Racaln only prey on the Clabestro when they’re split up and small. They don’t do any harm when they’re merged on one bigger body. But since most Clabestro combat (which happens very often) has them in their small split up forms. This makes it common for Racalns to be collected from the wild or bred in captivity to be utilized as excellent traps, and denying area. This practice would also be used as a mark to safeguard places from violence, to prevent Clabestro from splitting to engage in combat. This practice has spread to official gatherings like courts and diplomatic meetings.
Fighting/Water: Ultimate Slush (See Original in Water Types)
Appearance
Powers/Ability
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Fighting/Elctric: Ultimate Fightning Rod (See Web Work in Electric Types)
Appearance
Powers/Ability
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Fighting/Flying: Ultimate Fight and Flight (See original in Flying Types)
Appearance
Powers/Ability
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Fighting/Ice: Giengar Nemetrix predator of the Ashe (See Burrzerker in Ice Types)
Appearance
Hunting Method
Planet/Species Fact: Giengar are omnivores. In cold seasons they eat large predators with their primarily skill of inducing hallucinations that tire out its target before having its body frozen over for it to consume with its teeth designed to crush frozen objects. They gain this power by consuming mushrooms from warmer, jungle biomes that contain spores which has a similar effect to targets that breathe them in (though less concentrated and ends with less fatalities). Giengars are immune to these spores so during the warmer seasons they migrate to the jungle to consume high amounts of these mushrooms to expel their spores in large concentrations during hunting season. Normal Ashe that occupy these jungles stay away from the dangerous arctic biomes the Giengars hunt in, so to them the Giengar are seen as harmless. Since even if the Giengars try to use the spores against them, the conditions aren’t lethal and the lack of the Ashe’s adrenaline won’t inhibit their ability to recognize their condition and react accordingly instead of wasting their energy fighting.
Fighting/Ground: Ultimate Mudripper (See Original in Ground Types)
Appearance
Powers/Ability
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Fighting/Rock: Ovivine Nemetrix predator of the Sabter (See Mountain Goat in Fighting Types)
Appearance
Hunting Method
Planet/Species Fact: While Ovivine can talk and mimic sentient emotions its only purpose is to gain the trust of prey as a mere predatory mechanism, their brains aren’t capable of deeper introspective thought or sentience when alone. Sabter are worn of the Ovivine though largely they are seen as myth with how very few sightings they are and how little the Ovivine are actually active due to their slow metabolism. Ovivines cover their prey on the floor and slowly consume it whilst morphing its body to appear as a mere lump of ground covered in grass, which is another factor into how little they’re seen. Occasionally they encounter some Sabter who are very much aware of them, and their tricks so in those cases they simply push them off the cliff side. Though this method relies on the element of surprise since their physical strength is much weaker than the average Sayter.
Fighting/Bug: Ultimate Float Stinger (See Original in Bug Types)
Appearance
Powers/Ability
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Fighting/Psychic: Muscle Memory (Alien Taskmaster)
Species: Reffox
Planet: Arbeitar
Appearance
Powers and Abilities
Weaknesses
Planet/Species Fact: Due to the fact that all Reffox are all physically the same and that any unique skill that are developed is quickly assimilated by one another. Reffox populations share a yearning for a sense of identity. So many Reffox head off to other cultures/planets to use their learned skills to be able to make an identity of themselves, whether it be an athlete a performer, a warrior, a hero, or in some cases a criminal or ruler. This feeling is felt through all Reffox and when two of them meet, they silently agree to not show their skills to each other to keep their identity. Though if they do want to share they return to Arbeitar to tell their stories or inspire new skills for the next generation who would tell their story.
Fighting/Poison: Biolence (Fist of the North Star Powered by drugs, and can weaponize their own explosions )
Species: Gomane Planet: Omawoshindyu
Appearance
Powers and Abilities
Weaknesses
Planet/Species Fact: Eons ago a large vapor of toxic alien pollutants was mysterious dropped on Omawoshindyu mutating all inhabitants and killing off massive amounts of life, however life stiff have adapted and eventually evolved resulting in the modern Gomanes. By the time their own society has formed, the pollutants have been absorbed into the earth or dissipated from the atmosphere allowing fertile greener life to grow. Ironically most of Gomane society promotes healthy activity like proper diet in exercise, for it allows them to control their cyst development more effectively even when there sped up, which they use in hunting and combat sports. However crime activity is still noticeable involving addiction, violence, and gang activity. Mostly originating in highly polluted/deserted wastelands. As various poisons are being produced and mines
Fighting/Ghost: Body-structor (Havik from MK1 with hints of Water Law from One Piece)
Species: Rankensain
Planet: Taxodoom
Appearance
Powers and Abilities
Weaknesses:
Planet/Species Fact: Body parts are the Rankensains main currency. While most body parts are gathered from hunted animals on their world. Rankenstains have developed interplanetary transportation to gather valuable alien body parts. Often by nefarious methods like warfare, grave robbing, or even homicide, making them a disdained and feared species across multiple planets. There are labs made to create clones of existing limbs to replace active hunting to remove the need for travel, but with how often exploration is used and how slow the cloning process is, Rankensains still commonly hunt aliens for their limbs as part of a darker slightly underground culture. To get around their negative reputation, Rankensains would remove their own brains and implant them into other bodies to disguise themselves.
Fighting/Dragon: Medisnake (Combat Snake with Street Fighter Chi abilities)
Species: Ansatryu
Planet: Chakrenin
Appearance:
Powers/Abilities:
Weaknesses
Planet/Species Fact: Initially Ansartyu were seen as pets of another more human-like species called the Shotogun and as intelligent as their owners. However, eventually the Shotogun would discover their ability to tap into their own personal well of the same chi-like energy and start practicing it for various means. However back then only a handful of masters would be able use it, and only at a very basic level. Until one Shotogun prince discovered that his treasured Ansatryu was able to tap into and unlock further levels of mastery. With this knowledge the prince learned from his Ansatryu and developed a closer bond with it, even teaching his pet higher levels of intelligence as he was taught further mastery of chi. Later he would teach others how to learn from their Ansatryu and his own Ansatryu will give intelligence to others of his species, leading to the point where Ansatryu are now partners living in the same world as the Shotogun in relative harmony.
Fighting/Steel: Weapon Blaster (Tank Knight with hand guns that shoots bladed weapons) Species: Arthmo
Planet: Palawar
Appearance
Powers and Abilities
Weaknesse
Species/Planet Fact: Arthmo is an artificial species created from a combination of alchemy and engineering by a master at both, commissioned by a great king. They were meant to be used as weapons of warfare and even companions. However an enemy army raided the kingdom, and killed both the lord and creator after the first Arthmo woke up. So the lab was well hidden so the Arthmo followed the instructions of its creator and created more of it, and slaying the enemy army. Now they defend the remaining members of their kingdom to allow it to rebuild. However, rumor has it that a surviving enemy found the original Arthmo lab.
Fighting/Dark: Spotshot
Species: Dalmate
Planet: Cerberence
Appearance
Powers/Abilities:
Weaknesses/Drawbacks
Species/Planet Fact: The spotted biological materials that generate the Dalmate’s projectile “spots”, is a shared trait amongst a handful of different Cereberence animal species and even some plant life. Those species has a spot of a different color that was meant harm all other species/subspecie for predation or predator avoidance. Other species that don’t have this projectile ability do have spotted patterns on them to warn predators, or even create similar marks on objects to protect territory by intimidation.To weaponize their own “spots” Dalmate tribes would farm different animals and use them in different methods that changes their spot markings to battle other tribes with their own spot slinging skills to prevent it from being simply absorbed into its targets body.
Fighting/Fairy: Best-O Change-O (Magical Girl/Boy Recruiting Bunny)
Species: Usegin
Planet: Lunakessho
Appearance
Powers/Abilities
Weaknesses
Planet/Species Fact: Lunakessho is a magical planet where all the inhabitants would practice magic, protected by an order of Usegin knights. However dark forces used by villains and monsters would arise practicing this dark magic and almost threatened to corrupt the universe. The Usegin order managed to fight them off but with a threat on that kind of scale and some remaining presence of their enemies they decided to seal of the planet into another realm. However, now there is an occult group mages summoned the order on various points of different moons using a ritual that was meant to be used in case they’re needed. While the Usegin heroes did manage to get involved in their traditional hero work. They’ve learned too late that this ritual will eventually corrupt them once all the full rituals is complete, and they’re powerless to stop them. So they now go to various planets and recruit and train other magical warriors to stop them when the time comes.
submitted by Mountain_Counter929 to Ben10 [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 07:31 RationalSchizo812020 Kanye and Kendrick vs Drake and The Diddler: A Conspiracy

Written 5/8/2024- updates attached below

I tried posting this on kendrick almost a week ago and it got no response, I messaged the mods to ask about Karma restrictions or account age requirements and they never replied. I made a new account and it was the same issue, but I found out last night I wasn’t fully banned, so I figured I’d throw it up and see if anyone finds it valuable. It’s written for people who have no prior knowledge of the rap game/music business. I don’t have to go as hard on obscuring names this time. One of the influencers I mentioned in my last post is known for doxxing and threatening violence against people who mention the many contradictions in their stories. (Sorry for any typos/mistakes I want to go to bed.)
Origins
I believe the current Drake and Kendrick Lamar beef is either completely or partially fabricated by certain industry leaders or the parties involved in an effort to distract from something bigger going down behind the scenes. If you were an influential label owner facing major accusations, and you needed to deflect media attention from yourself, recreating one of the most defining moments in rap history during the social media era would be a way to do it. It also wouldn’t hurt that two of the biggest rappers in the world were already sending shots at each other in their music for years prior. The public consensus is they are simply two famous rappers who hate each other and fighting over the spot for the top like in the 90’s. Only people who were directly involved could paint a more cohesive picture of the whole story. Even when all the cards drop, there is a good chance the average person won’t be able to find direct sources on their own and will continue to support their favorite artists and dismiss any evidence of their crimes like the drizzy subreddit or Ak fans.

As I said the beef between Kendrick and Drake has been brewing in the background for years, with both rappers sending shots and sneak dissing each other over the course of at least 8 years. The most agreed upon origin story is the first diss was the 2016 Big Sean and Kendrick collaboration, “Control,” and Drake responded with, “The Language”. Things stayed relatively lighthearted for a while and both were intentionally vague for many years. Before I go deep into the Kendrick and Drake stuff, it’s really important to examine some of Drake’s prior beefs because they add a ton of context to my theory. In my opinion Kendrick and Co. started scheming all of this some time around Mid 2020-Mid 2022, well after the whole Pusha T beef had transitioned into the Kanye beef.

What exactly started the beef is debatable, but at the time many attributed it to rumors of Drake pursuing Ye’s ex Amber Rose. Unfortunately the timeline isn’t 100 percent clear, and if I included every detail this would be at least 200+ pages so I’ll stick with the important stuff. The ultimate outcome of the Pusha T battle in 2018 was the revelation of Drake’s son Adidon that he had previously been hiding from the world along with getting Ye directly involved in the beef.

Here are some more examples of Drake antagonizing Ye and of him trying to use women as pawns to get material for his diss tracks. The Drake line, “Yeah, I probably go link to Yeezy, I need me some Jesus, but as soon as I start confessin' my sins, he wouldn't believe us," could be a reference to sleeping with Kim Kardashian, trying to double down on his threats to harm him or his family, or it could be a double entendre. Another example is using the name Kiki in another song, which was apparently one of Kim’s nicknames. Some other possible examples include the theories he may have tried the same thing with Kendrick’s wife Whitney around 2020-2021 in an attempt to use as ammo against Kendrick, which I’ll go into later. I don’t listen to much of either artist's music, but there are probably many of other examples in Drake’s catalogue that I’m leaving out. There is also his song Omerta released in 2019, which I'll go into below.

“Your baby mother call me when she lonely My tailor see me twice a week, he like my homie Forever grateful, forever thankful Diamond necklace, but she wears it on her ankle”

(Probably referring to Kim Kardashian since she had a few pictures with her wearing diamond ankle bracelets and was trying to make it into a trend.

“I plan to buy your most personal belongings when they up for auction”

(There were various rumors floating around for a while that Drake was blackmailing Ye with something and he was fighting to keep it from the public. I thought about it and this line might be referencing a sex tape with Kim or her little sister who me was very touch before she turned 18. In 2022 there was a whole storyline on Kim’s show where Ye flies to LA to prevent her second sex tape from being released.)

West Hollywood, know my presence is menacing
Cosa Nostra, shady dealings
Racketeering, the syndicate got they hand in plenty things The things that we've done to protect the name are unsettling But no regrets, though, the name'll echo Years later, none greater
Death to a coward and a traitor, that's just in my nature, yeah
(Drake and Ye both frequented the Delilah Nightclub located in West Hollywood and lived closeby on the same street for a while.)
"I don't carry cash 'cause the money is digital
It's the American Expresser, the debt collector"

(Sounds a lot more like it could be crypto to launder or send large amounts of ill gotten gains. It started becoming mainstream around them)

"Last year, niggas really feel like they rode on me
Last year, niggas got hot 'cause they told on me
I'm 'bout to call the bluff of anybody the fold on me"

These lines stood out because they could be referring to Ye telling the public about Drake's alleged threats a couple months before the songs release. This happened not long after the release of Sicko mode which was towards the end of 2018 as well. Ye was discussing the incident on Twitter and reached out to Drake and Travis to talk to him in private. In the next set of tweets Kanye publicly accused Drake of threatening him and his family in a major way. Surprisingly Ye seemed genuinely scared and amongst his, “crazy rants,” some of the stuff he said makes a ton of sense in hindsight. This also the beginning of his second serious public struggles with Bipolar disorder after being committed in 2016 shortly after an on stage rant where he calls out Jay Z for selling out and says he's afraid he might kill him.. As someone who shares the same diagnosis, I have a pretty good understanding of mania and psychosis and firmly believe that it's important not to write people off right away due to their mental illness. Some of my most thoughtful, creative, and productive periods were inspired by mania. Industry bigwigs have also been using mental illness to discredit influential black celebrities and visionaries going back decades, but it really picked up in the 80’s.

Dave Chappelle has gone into this a lot in the past and claims he experienced something similar before he quit show business and dipped to Africa. Their stories have a lot of interesting parallels if you’re familiar or curious. I remember he actually visited Ye at his house in Wyoming after he was reported to have had a, "mental breakdown," during his presidential run in 2020 thus marking his third breakown in six years.. The reason I put it in quotes is because it happened right after he publicly accused Kim of cheating and delivered his legendary speech on abortion. Dave went as far as going on live tv and telling the public he wasn’t crazy, he was just really struggling because he was the only one at the time fighting against the narrative, which can often be a suicide mission or a ticket to obscurity. These are three examples of someone speaking up and being deemed crazy, two years later came the nazi stuff and I'm sure we'll have plenty in store for 2024.

This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the very common pattern of artists dying or having their careers destroyed either after they try to leave their label or threaten to reveal industry secrets. A few more interesting industry connections I made in my research include the connections between:

T.U.G. records and J Cole's independent label Dreamville are both managed by Interscope Records, whose parent company is Universal Music Group.

Universal Music Group also hac Drake's label OvO label as well as Ye and Kendrick's old labels on their roster before they left to form their own independent labels in 2022 (around the same time the disses between Kendrick and Drake started escalating). Finally Bad Boy Records, which is owned by Diddy, and Motown Records who own Diddy's other R&B label Love Records, are also both owned by Universal. This means every label I mention is currently or was previously owned by Universal Music Group.

Ye tried for years to get out of his contract with Defjam, which happens to be ran by Jay Z who is known to be a close associate of Diddy. Jay would always used his money and power to fight against it. Ye even spoke out publicly on a few occasions, including when he said Jay Z was trying to kill him during one of his concerts. My theory is after years of getting nowhere and having his reputation skewered, in 2022 Ye finally said, "Fuck it," and dropped all the anti- Semetic stuff intentionally in a successful attempt to force his label to into using their morality clause, which requires labels to drop an artist if they're accused of any major controversy that could hurt the label’s profits. For the fourth time in four years the media reported he was having a breakdown. Even though they tried to punish him by cutting off all of his sources of income and freezing his accounts he still managed to bounce back pretty quickly. It was often reported how much he was losing, but it rarely discussed how he still was filthy rich in spite of the retrictions. His label wanted to discourage other artists from trying the same thing. My theory is he might have bought Kim or Kylie's alleged sex tape and used it for his own leverage. For Kendrick, his transition to his independent label ApLang went a lot smoother, but he had to split ownership of his new label with the previous manager owner Dave Free. Sadly it's still difficult for new or more niche artists to establish themselves without the some help.

He may be a lot of things but Ye isn’t dumb just because he has a mood disorder and the guys at the top know this, which is why I think he has really played up his diagnosis when it benefitted him. He’s still one of the most talented musicians in the game and I really think he sees his bipolar like a superpower as he says. It’s like his own invisibility cloak. He can go off his meds for a little, make an album after staying up for 72 hours, go on a “psychotic” twitter rant dropping facts throughout, then start up again once he makes enough news headlines. I think it’s worth noting the first divorce rumors in 2020 coincided with Ye’s abortion speech during his presidential run and the cheating accusations. that led to him dropping out and moving to Wyoming, and a couple months ago in February 2024 he was committed again.

The point I’m making is bipolar is complex, but pretty manageable especially if you have a ton of money to find meds that work for you and a good doctor and can keep substance abuse and stress at a manageable level. I think Ye is smart enough to know this, but it’s just safer for him to really play up the mental issues in the media. He’s proven he can literally say whatever he wants after getting cancelled and the average person is just going to write it off as psycho babble. While bias in health care is a sad fact of society, if you can use it to your advantage I say go for it. It might’ve just kept the microscope off of him long enough to plan his attack.

Ye v. Drake: Quotes of 2018
(Start of the beef, drake threats, and suspicion towards Kardashian family. )

“ It’s not about rap. It’s about family. We have to be close as a family and never let these people infiltrate just for radio spins”

“We need to show the world that people can talk without people ending up dead or in jail.”

”This is a man speaking to a man that has been placed in the program to fuck with Kanye West head and set me up“

”See when you care about your family you don’t let no man push you to do nothing that could risk your freedom“

These first four tweets by Ye were all in reference to perceived threats made by Drake after their beef escalated circa 2018. He began speaking on the industry and talking more about his psych hospital commitment two years prior and how he thought they were going to kill him. It's pretty obvious how the whole thing was planned by the sketchy doctor who called it in and his physical trainer who has a ton of connections to weird shit involving his celebrity clients.

I found interesting that Ye might not have been the first major league rapper whose life Drake threatened. During a similar period of mental illness the up and coming rapper XXXtentacion accused Drake of stealing his flow and dissed him a few times. Not long after he made a post online saying if he dies, it was Drake who did it. There are tons of conspiracies online, but none of the evidence is strong enough to draw a definitive connection. Also while it maybe be coincidental, Kendrick’s latest album Mr Morale also painted the picture that Kendrick was dealing with some serious personal issues. Some lines throughout the album may have been used to bait Drake into escalating, but it wasn’t until The Weekend, Future, and Metro Booming dropped, “We Don’t Trust You,” then Drake and J. Cole dropped, “First Person Shooter,” which was followed a couple days later with, “Like That,” where Kendrick started the chain of events that has led us to today.

Kanye vs. Drake: Quotes of 2020

Summary: Ye runs for president and gets suppressed for saying what very well could be the truth and was immediately deemed insane by the media. Kim did a couple interviews and everything he said was immediatly false. There is almost guarenteed to be some sketchy shit going down revolving her and her family. Ye was absolutely terrified of her keeping the kids away from him and it seems like there are still efforts being made to this day to paint a certain image of him for ulterior motives.

Below are six more quotes from a fan taking a deep dive into his 2020 tweets courtesy of u/ thehatstore42069 on Yeezy
”NORTHY I AM GOING TO WAR AND PUTTING MY LIFE ON THE LINE AND IF I AM MURDERED DON’T EVER LET WHITE MEDIA TELL YOU I WASNT A GOOD MAN,” West, 43, wrote in the tweet, adding, “WHEN PEOPLE THREATEN TO TAKE YOU OUT OF MY LIFE JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU”

"I need a public apology from J Cole and Drake to start with immediately... I'm Nat Turner... I'm fighting for us."

"the utmost respect for all brothers" and said "we need to link and respect each other... no more dissing each other on labels we don't own"

"Ye is constantly trying to tell people that his family does not have his or his kids best interests at heart. He goes on to list others, linking them together with the thinking emoji. These people include rap artist Drake and Larsa Pippen, wife of Scottie Pippe. Kim K is goddaughter to Pippen's daughter, showing how close the families actually are. All of these families that associate with Ye through Kardashian connections, as well as Drake, have been accused of the same thing Kris has. EVERY SINGLE ONE of these people have mixed race children that are groomed from a young age to fuck around with celebrities so the parents can remain famous. Drake on numerous occasions has been accused of grooming girls and then getting handsy on their 18th birthday.”

“These labels want their artists to make them money and they dont care about anything else. When Kanye says things like this in an attempt to expose him, the first thing they wanna do is drug him up and put him back in the studio.”
“Righteous indignation is typically a reactive emotion of anger over mistreatment, insult, or malice of another. It is akin to what is called the sense of injustice. This is how they keep the black man down. Keep people outraged about trivial things and distract them from the real issues in the world. The real problems in the industry. If you tell people enough times that they are unequal or discriminated against they start to believe it. Drug them when they step out of line and toss them aside when the checks run out. Ye is realizing he is pawn in a bigger game, and now that he has all these roots in the game such as Yeezy or the Gap or his music, too many people cant risk (Afford) a Ye who speaks his mind.”
(End of quotes)

Amongst the twitter rant, Ye warned about the predatory nature of record deals and discussed trying to get out of his own deal, and said again how his life may be in danger if it wasn’t already and was doing anything he could to protect his kids. The most fascinating part to me though is the public call to arms he made to Drake, J Cole, and Kendrick on twitter. After inviting them to all link up, he said, “It’s time to get free, we will not argue amongst each other while some guy we don’t know in Europe is getting paid and putting that money in a hedge fund.” I believe if Ye was able to pull off this meeting, there is an ever so slight chance that all four artists might be working together to take down a greater enemy. Weirdly there have been times throughout the last couple years where these supposed enemies were photographed together being friendly or praise each other in interviews, then out of no where the disses would start flying again.

To wrap things up I want to share my a few of my theories about the Drake/Kanye beef

A. Everything is exactly as it seems and the beef is over. Ye let his mental illness ruin his life and career so Drake simply picked another target after Ye stopped putting out disses. All of these connections are just a coincidence and all of this was choreographed to boost Drake and Kendrick’s music sales and possibly distract people from the Diddy trial and possibly the complicated geopolitical issues currently facing the U.S.

C. There is also the possibility that all four rappers are in cahoots and Drake’s dirt isn’t as extreme as people are theorizing, at least in comparison to the rest of the business. This could explain why everything has played out like a movie and how they were able to predict each other’s moves so well. This could either mean they’re all just trying to boost their sales or they’re all trying to take down the “slave masters,” as Ye calls them, and change the dynamic of the music industry in favor of the artist.

D. They may be trying to help their friends in the industry who are being abused or in shitty contracts. I know a lot of famous rappers have done a lot of collaborations with Jhene Aiko and Anderson Paak, who were both signed to T.U.G. records which I mentioned above in the connections to Universal Music Group. Considering they are both frequent collaborators with all of the artists involved on both sides, it’s not unlikely they may have played some part in influencing the takedown.

T.U.G was started by Chris Stokes with his partner Ketrina Askew. Back in the early to mid 90’s were gaining popularity attracting lots of young up and coming talent. They often collaborated with Diddy and his associates. In the 2000’s Raz B from the boy band B2K claimed he was molested by Stokes and his friend Marques Houston, then quickly retracted his claims. Years later he came forward again and said we was bribed into silence and that the rest of the victims were bribed with hush money and had another singer corroborate his story and they came forward together to level the accusations. After some of his former B2K members made fun of him for his claims and accused it of being a shakedown, Raz B revealed Stokes and Houston had preyed a lot of the children associated with the label including at least one of the former bandmates and paid them off.

I thought it was worth noting that the second whistleblower named Quindon Tarver died young in a car crash after mentioning his abuse again a few years prior. He seems to have left the industry not long after the incidents occurred and has few credits to his name. To this day Raz B is still trying to get his justice, while Stokes and his partner Askew, who was also involved in the abuse are still running the label to this day. Askew also has a ton of lawsuits, accusing her of using shady tactics to try to foreclose on houses. (Don’t quote me if a lawyer wants to take a look just google her full name), and has been tied to a ton of LLCs, similar to Drake. This is a good example of a shitty record deal, but I'm sure they have countless other friends in the industry who have even worse. While they were never convicted even Chris Stokes' wife confirmed it to be true.

E. The theory I personally think fits the narrative best and is the most realistic conspiracy is that Kendrick and possibly J. Cole went to the meeting, but not Drake due to his close relationship with Lucian Grange, the president of Drake’s label. Silence often speaks louder than words and this could explain why Kendrick was so ruthless and put so much effort into finding dirt on Drake. Ye, Cole, and Kendrick co-writing would be like the rap allstar team and if J. Cole wasn’t involved, it would also answer the question of whether or not he baited Drake into the battle by asking him to feature. I don’t think Drake is really their primary target though, which would explain letting him off easy. Compared to his bosses and their bosses he’s a small fish. If you take the big guys down you stand a better chance of landing a bigger blow on their operation.

Another really interesting connection is Kendrick and Ye were both signed under Universal Music Group and they both got out of their deals around couple months apart in 2022. As we speak U.M.G’s CEO Lucian Grange, who is often acccused of giving Drake special treatment, is facing charges related to sex trafficking by no other than P Diddy. This could very well explain the timing of it all. The craziest timeline would be Diddy masterminding all of this and using his connections to get it done and all the allegations are bullshit. The guy does seem pretty confident all things considered and constantly posts himself in his Batman costume which could mean he’s a vigilante.

It seems like there's a slight religious angle as well. (Ye and Diddy are both very vocal advocates of Christianity and Drake and Lucian Grange are both Jewish.) Obviously this is a reach, but they’ve been saying rap music was specifically promoted by mostly white label owners in the 80’s to help in the ongoing effort to expedite the systematic oppression of those living in black neighborhoods and the destruction of their family systems. Apparently it was an intentional decision to heavily promote rappers that promoted the very things that were destroying their neighborhoods. (So people know I'm and atheist and have zero agenda, I just thought it was interesting, please stay away from anything antisemitic. War is wrong on both sides.)

*** If my favorite theory is true, there is a possibility the Kendrick and Ye are going after Drake due to their mutual disdain for him and because he’s got a ton of power to dominate the charts and hog the radio airtime like Meek Mill and OG Maco claimed years ago. Even him dropping a record the same day as you could really fuck your album sales up. I’m also sure some of the many rumors throughout the years have had a least some truth and he will most likely snitch to avoid cell block one. I think that Drake could have been instructed to instigate this whole mess in order to draw attention away from the UMG charges brought about by Diddy. Or on the other hand it could be that Kendrick, Ye, and possibly Cole, may have had intel that Drake was going to be involved in the Diddy trial and are just gonna let the receipts show themselves. It might not have been the original plan, but they’ve already accomplished their mission of humiliating him, assuring he couldn’t use his influence to slide through the cracks, and taking over the throne.

Please take everything I say with a grain of salt I have no connection to this world or lifestyle. Regardless I believe all of the knowledge above does a pretty solid job at painting a picture of what may have let up to this and what may have been the source.
——————————-
More details found the last couple days…

Drake and Diddy Connections+Coincidences

Drake- In the P Diddy wig video from 2016 he talks about going to party with Drake, Cash, and The Weeknd in Toronto. Drake is also one of Birdman’s protégées who is known for being a predator and is rumored to have used label artists to lure young women.

Travis Scott- Interview where he comes out and says Diddy tried to lure him. Still has a long history of associating with him, video of him running from Diddy, his connection to Ruby Rose while underage.

Tim Westwood- Diddy had connections with sex offender Tim Westwood who also inspired the Drake song, “Westwood”. They also both were victims of drive by shootings along with The Weekend and they were all facing some type of allegations.

T.I.- Also has been associate with Diddy through the years, in 2021 his kid died and 11 women can forward at the same time to accuse him and his wife of drugging and assaulting them. Clearly someone wanted to fuck his life up. Possibly due to him getting arrested so many times for wild shit and people wondering how he continued to get away with it shining a light on how powerful industry lawyers are. He also had recently talked about having a gynecologist check to see if his daughter is still a Virgin, which sounds like it could have been an industrty secret. Could have been because he worried about someone trying to take advantage of her to get to him? Regardless that shit is fucking insane.

50 Cent- Has been saying pretty much the same thing as Travis Scott and has trolled Diddy for most of his career. It came out that his wife was a sex worker who was possibly recruited Diddy to help ruin his career. It sort of worked, which raises the question if 50 Cent is the only victim.

Ray J- Him and his sister worked with T.U.G. records when they were very young. Chris Stokes in the nineties who had connections with Diddy. He has been involved in a lot of sex scandals and allegedly may have played a part in Whitney Houston's death. (Which is also allegedly connected to Michael Jackson's death and both were deemed suspicious and happened during their final tours when their masters (song rights), became more valuable than their lives. Sony Records and Tommy Motolla, who also abused Mariah Carey when she was trying to start her career. These are just a few of the alleged examples of labels taking out musicians when they were worth more dead, another is the signing of high risk artists and requiring them to get life insurance so they can profit beyond releasing all their posthumous records. Also the ever so common story of the rising star artist that die at 21 after their first album or two.

He also partied with Diddy in Vegas with along Floyd Mayweather and a bunch of other famous industry people and athletes.

Tory Lanez- Tons of blackmail, also was signed by Interscope under UMG. got sent to prison for ten years after trying to leave his label. Also history of SA and and other allegations of violence towards women.

French Montana- On Diddy's label, close with Rick and Khaled, tons of drug and sexual assault allegations, also dated a Kardashian. Generally grimy.

DJ Khaled- Diddy said he could get anything in Miami, either referring to drugs or women, could explain his connections and lack of any notable talent. (New update, he was one of the first to promote Chris Alvarez’s instagram not long after he turned 18).

Rick Ross- Diddy said some weird shit about him and licked his lips and kissed him at a show. Ross is also signed to Bad Boy under Diddy. He ended up getting involved in the current feud and spamming social media nonstop dissing and threatening Drake.

A lot of the back and forth was both of them threatening to release dirt on each other. One strange coincidence I found was Drake recently trolled Ross about the 20 million dollar renovation to his home on Star island, where Diddy is currently residing. It’s rumored back in the day that P Diddy was caught in a room full of rich guys on ecstasy possibly at the beginning stages of a gay orgy. Drake also mentioned in the same tweets about Rick Ross that Birdman owned a house on the island and asked Rick Ross why he didn’t help him out.

Considering Ross is so sketchy and Drake claims the house isn’t that big, that’s a ridiculous amount of money. He may be covering up evidence, or creating tunnels in his house to escape if shit pops off and Drake might know what’s good. Interestingly enough Ross is very close with French Montana and also signed to Bad. He said his beef was related to something involving French, and Drake’s tweet popped up the same day the info came out concerning the Chris Alvarez stuff.

The famous line from U.O.E.N.O.

Meek Mill- “OG Maco called himself defending his friend Quentin Miller by substantiating the ghostwriting claims and agreeing with Meek. He hit up Twitter saying, "Some of us been knew. Meek just put it in the air. Sucks to have to compete with 6 n****s and get compared to”

Meek mill also had a short beef with Drake, some disses included lines referring to TI’s homie pissing on Drake at the movie theater, which is also interesting considering the current case against him. He also dropped a line saying Diddy almost got a domestic charge when he smacked Drake, which could either be saying that Drake is like a woman, or saying he was Drake’s boyfriend/sugar daddy.
( If you made it to the end comment with the number 8)
I thought it was interesting how the beef just kind of disappeared and even Meek said it didn’t seem genuine. Considering the allegations against Meek in the Diddy trial, and his rumored affair with Kim contributing to ending Kanye’s marriage, Meek Mill definitely did some dirt on him.

“Niggas frauds I told the truth, don't ask me shit
All this industry fake enemy and rap shit”

“Money make a sucker that told look trill again”

One of the many chapters in Drake's history in which he is seen paying his way out of trouble and starting beefs randomly.
“Now when that shit went down with Chris, you wrote a check”
This line is referring to Chris brown beef, another beef that was lost to time. All I can remember off the top was someone throwing a champagne bottle at the other’s entourage.

Ty Dolla $ign- Huge feature artist, close with Ye. Grew up in the industry and talks about growing up on the road and being in the studio with his dad and Rick James who was should have already been in prison for life for dragging, torturing, and S assaulting multiple women and children throughout his career and was himself a victim of the industry. May be part of Ye's motivation, considering their recent close working relationship.
The end.
Courtesy of,
The Randomest Moniker
submitted by RationalSchizo812020 to DarkKenny [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 07:07 supernovaontherye Road rage incident (S. Lamar + Barton Springs Road)

I wasn’t going to post this because I ended up evading the raged-out man but I genuinely have never had something so terrifying happen + want to see if anyone has had a similar occurrence?
Last week, I had a late spray tan appointment (10pm). I first noticed a man with long black hair driving a small grey/silver car aggressively weaving in and out of traffic about 2 mins after I pulled out onto South Lamar. The light where you’d turn onto Treadville St was red and I had to stop—this is when I knew something was wrong. He was one car behind me at the light but I could see him flashing his lights.
Once the light turned green, he gunned it around the car behind me and caught up with me. I’ve never had someone tail me so closely—if I would have even slightly tapped my brakes, he would’ve been in my backseat.
We then were stuck at the light at South Lamar. I was watching him in my rear view and noticed he was leaning down into the floorboard of his passenger seat, clearly searching for or something which terrified me. The light turned green, and I gunned it, but the light ahead of us by Starbucks was turning red, and he was getting into the lane where he would be to the left of me and I could see him roll down his window and flailing his arms at me with something in his hand. I waited until he got almost right up next to my car before I gunned it down the road to Starbucks and back up to South Lamar and made an escape back to my house.
I have no idea why it happened. I wasn’t driving recklessly, I didn’t cut anyone off, and there was hardly anyone on the road. I would describe him as late 20s to early 30s with long black hair and he was driving a small silver car, either an old Toyota or Camry model.
submitted by supernovaontherye to Austin [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 07:01 EUGsk8rBoi42p "Just check out Eugene’s Reddit section any day, but don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Admitting we have a problem is the first step in solving it! Author is a Eugenean talking about her experience with rising crime in the city, never saw this story but hey, still relevant today. Found this little gem by random chance. Title is a hopefully relatable quote from the article. You can agree or disagree with the author, but it's actually pretty well written with sources included. (just including the whole article, for people who don't want to click links!)

I Caught Two Men Stealing From My Home. The Aftermath Was Absurd—and All Too Typical.

This experience crystallized Oregon’s deeper problems.

BY REBECCA SCHUMANJUNE 21, 20225:40 AM
Typically, guys wearing power-company vests don’t leave the houses they’re working on laden down with backpacks—let alone power tools, a scooter, and a Nintendo Switch. But that was the scene I happened upon at 6:30 p.m. on a Tuesday in mid-April when I puttered into my driveway in Eugene, Oregon, my 7-year-old ensconced in the back seat.
For a second, my brain tried to normalize the incident: This is just my daughter’s dad stopping by—except there are two of him, and they’re dressed as electricians for some reason? Then, a second later, everything whooshed into place: Oh, wait, I’m being robbed. Or, rather, I was being burgled. I would get reminded of this distinction later, when I made the dubious choice to join the chorus of aggrieved buttinskies on Nextdoor, where my well-meaning post to warn the neighborhood would turn me into an accidental vigilante hero for a day.
Unfortunately, it’s true: My reaction to this burgle was the lived-out fantasy of many who have been on the business end of a property crime. As the two goons took off on foot down my street, I went into fight-or-flight mode—and I chose fight.
“Well,” I said to my confused child, “let’s go see if we can get our stuff back.”
I peeled my 2005 Subaru back onto the street and easily overtook my two targets, who then hurtled themselves into an alley, whereupon I cornered one by the driver’s side window as the other made haste across the adjacent parking lot.
“Just give it back, bro!” I yelled out my window. “Just give it back! I’m a single mom! Just give it back.”
I repeated this until either I reminded him too much of his meanest teacher or he realized he’d been caught in broad daylight. “Fine,” he said. “Just fucking take it.”
He shoved a backpack through my driver’s side window. Inside it was both my laptops and my daughter’s iPad from school. Back at home, I would discover these guys had used channel lock pliers to force open the back door, but that the general chaos of my home had prevented them from locating my passport, jewelry, or sole item of irreplaceable value: the Montblanc fountain pen that my father, who died in a bicycle accident two years ago, had gotten for his law school graduation. My cat was unfazed.
I can honestly tell you that this little caper of mine was thrilling and deeply satisfying. It was also the exact wrong thing to do. Even this fanatical open-carry gun website implores: “Don’t chase criminals.” What if these two dipsticks had been armed? As unlikely as that was—property crime in my town is often driven by addiction, and weapons are worth money, which can buy drugs—I put myself and my child in potential danger. And for what? Three grand worth of electronics. As any reputable expert will tell you, you’re never to give chase to a thief, because human life is not worth possessions. As much as I admit to enjoying being called a “badass” by everyone I told this story, plus the listeners of KLCC Oregon, I should not have done this.
I did call the police, on the nonemergency line, because the dudes were long gone and nobody was hurt. I declined the dispatcher’s offer to send two officers to fingerprint a bunch of stuff I’d already touched. At best, that would have just added two more sets of prints to my town’s burgeoning roster of perennially at-large property criminals.
There are larger issues here, issues much more important than my would-be cool story. First, it’s an example of how in Eugene, small-scale property crime is now de facto legal. It is largely nonviolent, so it’s rarely seen as worth police resources to track down the goods. At the same time, it is so prevalent that any time one vest-wearing bozo gets nabbed, three more spring up in his place. This was my house’s second break-in in six months, and my fourth property crime total in the three years I’ve lived here as an adult. Eugene is my hometown, so I can also add the four times my childhood house, where my mother still lives, has been burgled since the early 2000s. When I was little, we left our front door unlocked so regularly that I wasn’t aware front doors had locks on them until I was much older. By the time I turned 30, however, every door in my parents’ house had been pried open at least once. (“Time to finally get that alarm system!” said my dad for three straight decades.)
Still, it’s a mistake to treat this trend solely as a vexing crime problem. Eugene’s descent into its property crime epidemic has been concurrent, unsurprisingly, with two addiction epidemics: First, the methamphetamine nightmare of the 1990s—when pseudoephedrine pills were still unregulated—hit Oregon and other Western states particularly hard. That wave segued all too naturally into the opioid and fentanyl crisis of the present. Meanwhile, not only did meth never really leave, but its use in Oregon also surged with the pandemic, with three Oregonians per day currently dying a drug-related death.
Since our conversation was necessarily brief, I don’t know the housing or drug situation of the guys who broke into my place. But local statistics point to them as two more casualties of these plagues. (Granted, those statistics are from nearby Portland, and they are police-sourced, so take them how you wish.)
For all the ambivalent empathy that the opioid epidemic has engendered, the local property crime scourge has set off a fierce public backlash. My incident brought out an unsurprising chorus of bloodlust on Nextdoor and elsewhere, when I shared it because I wanted to give my immediate neighbors a heads-up: “You should have kicked their asses,” they wrote. “We need to rise up and defend our property.”
This town’s petty crime is often attributed, at least in the national conservative press, to our West Coast government’s decision to temporarily allow urban camping during the pandemic. (That policy has now officially ended, for what it’s worth.) Towns like mine have often been characterized in the popular imagination as unlivable crime-addled hellholes. I will be the first to admit that our tent cities are sometimes blatant open-air drug markets, but this is the case even as our property values inflate to absurd proportions—and our crime is actually on the decline. Still, Oregonians like me currently have about a 2.7 percent chance of being burgled, which, at almost 30 percent higher than the national average, is very high. I learned very efficiently how anecdotes like mine get around (I can’t help it if I’m a dynamic storyteller!) and attract the righteous indignation of other former victims, so many often feel, incorrectly, like we few honest vanguards are awash in a sea of riffraff.
This atmosphere, in turn, inspires my locality’s equally unreasonable political extremists to put forth and exacerbate their own untenable solutions. Even in a hyperpolarized American environment, Oregon is more polarized than most. For decades, our liberal enclaves have made Portlandia look understated, while our conservative areas make Texas’ look progressive.
For example, during the heyday of Eugene’s recently dismantled and infamous Washington Jefferson Park tent city, a larger break-in at a bicycle store was traced at least partially back to the encampment. The police swept the tents and made a flurry of arrests. Some of the bikes were found. This resulted in part in outrage over using resources to hassle the city’s most impoverished residents: “A stolen bike, yes, that sucks,” an advocate for the unhoused told a local news outlet. “But what are your priorities? And I’m sorry, but a stolen bike isn’t the priority.”
Well, trust me, in this town, it definitely isn’t. Recovering those bikes was an anomaly; in Eugene, most of these burglaries go unsolved. In fact, 87 percent of burglaries in the whole country do, too. The get-tough-on-property-crime proponents assert that statistically, this sends a message that stealing is fair game, and sure, that is a message I do not condone. But I also agree with a somewhat less rabid version of the opposing view: Property is replaceable, these crimes are nonviolent, and everyone currently rifling through houses and dealing drugs out of tents in my town is human. They deserve a chance to get their lives on track.
So, what should be the town’s priority? Fixing the addiction epidemics is a perilously long way away from happening, for reasons that are as polarizing as addiction’s consequences. In the sobering and excellent Dopesick, author Beth Macy goes into painfully exacting detail about opioids’ near-inescapable hold on the human brain. Macy argues that the true way out of this epidemic is “low-barrier treatment,” which includes supportive housing and medical interventions such as safe injection supplies, fentanyl testing strips, buprenorphine access, and supervised consumption sites. All of these options, however, are a tough sell even in a “progressive” town like Eugene, where supervised consumption sites are what NIMBY nightmares are made of, and low-barrier treatment can run up against deeply held moral stigma: Gas is $5 a gallon, and my taxes are going to some junkie?
In the meantime, while some admirably advocate and vote and wait for those breakthroughs, what should we do about the burglaries themselves? Should we pursue more law enforcement, or more compassion toward the burglars? More arrests that allegedly might deter this, or policies that might alleviate income inequality? Does—as approximately 83 percent of the suggestions from my Nextdoor thread contended—every house in town need a tripwire that handcuffs trespassers on sight? Or should all businesses be taxed at 500 percent, and the proceeds used to furnish every fentanyl dealer in town with a nice apartment and mad cash? The debate has degenerated such that these are the sorts of cartoonish positions each side believes they’re fighting—and, in fact, are the only available choices. Just check out Eugene’s Reddit section any day, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The actual blight on small American towns like mine isn’t property crime. It’s that any tenable solution to it has been swallowed up into a churning abyss of extremism and perceived counterextremism. No one seems to have a convincing answer to the most basic question: So what should we do? What should I do?
Burglaries don’t have to be largely unsolvable, and more property criminals could be apprehended. But while I don’t want those dudes or any of their buddies to come back to my house, I also don’t want them in an American prison, where their “rehabilitation” will consist largely of learning better ways to commit even bigger crimes when they get out, and their options for alternative forms of acquiring money will be even more limited than they are now. Lacking any meaningful restorative justice program for petty thieves in my town (which would, in turn, necessitate locating and apprehending them), I decided my own problems could be solved, for now, with a padlock on my back gate.
And then, not long after the break-in, a Nintendo Switch appeared on my town’s Craigslist. Its included components and color combination were identical to the set stolen from my house. I debated, briefly, bringing my vigilante justice alter ego Super Annoying out of retirement, answering the ad and showing up to shrill my wrongdoers into returning what was mine. But this time, I thought better of it. My life is not worth much, but it’s probably worth more than Mario Kart. I can only hope the console’s new owners enjoy it as much as my daughter did—at least until someone steals it again.
submitted by EUGsk8rBoi42p to Eugene [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 06:03 FlabbergastedPeehole What happened on Miramar and 75 earlier?

During rush hour, there was a huge police presence on Miramar Parkway and Dykes. Forgot about it until now, went searching around, and I’m not seeing anything.
I know a few days ago they had the intersection shutdown to investigate a fatal accident, but that clearly wasn’t the vibe today.
Just being nosey.
submitted by FlabbergastedPeehole to Broward [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 05:40 ClaraEclair I Am Batman #16 - Black Hair And Face Paint

DC Next presents:

I AM BATMAN

In True Crime
Issue Sixteen: Dark Hair And Face Paint
Written by ClaraEclair
Edited by PredaPlant & DeadIslandMan1
 
<< < Previous Issue Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
Gotham University’s winter term was coming to an end, and that meant the resident varsity football team was finishing out their season — on home turf, no less. The Nighthawks were on a winning streak and were looking to finish off the season with a championship. The entire team felt the energy coursing through them as the stadium filled and crowd chants grew.
There were always major league scouts within the crowds at these types of games, especially for teams as impressive as the Nighthawks had been. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that some of the players on the varsity team would be making it to the national league. The coach, as hard as he could be on his team, felt nothing but warm pride in his heart and mind.
Zack Howard, the captain of the Nighthawks, looked over the 120 yard field from the player entrance, listening to the roaring crowd chanting for the Nighthawks — even fans of the Princeton Tigers felt the pull toward cheering on the Gotham University team. Just as much as his coach, he felt pride in being able to carry his team this far. He hoped to give the best game he’d ever played, to be noticed by big league coaches and scouts.
“Zack!” He heard his coach shout from behind him, no doubt trying to shift his attention back to the locker room and preparations for the game ahead. Zack exhaled deeply and turned around to see Coach Fremlin approaching with a light jog, holding something in his hand. “Delivery for ya,” he said, handing the envelope to the captain. “Some girl said to give it to you, said there’s somethin’ special inside.” With a smirk, Fremlin clapped Zack’s shoulder before turning back toward the locker room.
Zack’s mind flooded with possibilities and fantasies about what could’ve been in the envelope. Something special could have been anything, and it excited him as he ripped it open. His expression quickly shifted, however, as he pulled a handwritten note out of the envelope, scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.
”Zack Howard,” it read. He opened it, his brow furrowed, and watched as an instant print photograph fell out of the fold and onto the ground. One piece of clear tape had been shoddily applied to the corner and had clearly lost its adhesion. Leaning down, Zack picked up the photo and squinted, trying to make out the subject.
It took a few moments, but the longer he stared at the photo, the more it dawned on him what was depicted in it. Instantly, upon realising what he saw, he rushed back to the locker room and forced himself through his teammates to Coach Fremlin, who was dragging out his playbook. He grabbed the coach by the shoulder, twisted him around to face him directly, and planted the photo firmly on his chest.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded. Confused, Fremlin chuckled nervously as he tried to grasp the small photo on his chest, not able to see the subject but only the fury in Zack’s face. The room fell totally silent as the entire team watched the coach and their captain with bated breaths.
“What do you mean?” asked Fremlin, turning the image over and squinting at it, trying to make out the details. Just as fast as Zack had initially made out the details, Fremlin’s face dropped at the realisation. “Holy God, Zack, I–”
“What the hell is this?!” Zack demanded once more, resisting the urge to grab his coach by the collar and push him against the wall. “Who gave this to you?”
“I– I don’t know, it was some girl,” Fremlin stuttered, fumbling over himself. “She was short, had black hair, face paint…”
“What’s it say on the back?” asked Tim Teslow, the team’s best running back, pointing toward the image and the messy scrawls on the back of it. Zack snapped it back out of Fremlin’s hands as the coach sat down, head in his hands.
“Section 204, Row 8, seat 9,” Zack read the note aloud. “I’m going to go see what this is,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Dude, that’s across the stadium,” said Cutter Karznowski, the wide receiver that had only joined at the start of the season. “The game’s starting in a few minutes.”
“I don’t care,” Zack snapped back. “I’m going.”
 
 
Good evening, Gothamites, I hope you enjoyed that last one — Barcode by Self-Sacrificial. It’s always been a personal favourite of mine, straight to the point with the best beats and deepest riffs.
In the same spirit, I’ll get straight to the point of why today’s a big day for me — you’ve all known this was coming but I never quite said what it was. When I started this show a little over a year ago, I wanted to look at the dirt of the world. I wanted to bring you my favourite music while trying to figure out my favourite events in this city.
I’ve talked about all the legends, I’ve talked about Joker, Mister Freeze, and so many others. I’ve talked about new shooters like Man-Bat and Professor Pyg. I’ve even, unfortunately, shed some light on the unoriginal copycat hacks that have started popping up in recent years. It’s all been out of love, though. Love for the mind of those who would commit these atrocities, appreciation for what they are and what they represent.
There’s a reason why they are what they are, and it’s always been a goal of mine to love and appreciate what they put into the world. It’s all about the chaos.
But, today, I won’t be talking about that. Today, I’ll be talking about football. Before you all start booing me, it’s my special day and it’s my show, so I get final say. Specifically, it’s the big championship game for the Gotham University Nighthawks. I went to school with these guys, I feel… an obligation.
I’m excited to see how the game will turn out. I get the nagging feeling that their winning streak might come to an end.
 
 
Section 204 in the Gotham Knights stadium, on the north side of Tricorner Island, the southernmost landmass of Gotham, was filled to the brim with spectators and fans. All were cheering as they waited and watched the Gotham University Nighthawks enter the field below, while Zack spent his time searching the section for a small woman with black hair and face paint.
Despite the difficulty of sifting through the crowded seats, he couldn’t find a woman matching that description. He looked back down at the photograph’s note and read it again, making sure he was in the right spot. The location remained the same: Section 204, row 8, seat 9.
People called out his name, but he was quick to shrug them off. He was too focused on finding the woman who’d sent him the photograph. Even asking those who’d been sitting within section 204 had proved fruitless, with no one being able to say anything about the described woman.
Angry and dejected, Zack turned back toward the steps between sections to head back down to the field when something caught his eye as he moved.
“Sir!” He called out, angling his head toward a man two rows above him, pointing beneath his seat. “Sir, what’s that under your seat?” There was some sort of flashing light taped to the bottom of the seat, slowly pulsing between purple and green.
The man looked confused, leaning forward to take a look at what Zack had pointed at, eyes widening the moment he saw the wiring that he sat atop. A complex series of wires and lights traced their way around each seat in the section, though neither he nor Zack could see what, exactly, the wires were attached to.
“I don’t–”
The man could only shout out those few words before a loud explosion rocked the stadium, blasts running down the portion of the stadium from rows 12 to 4. Dozens of seats were annihilated as smoke, fire, and green gas erupted. Cries of pain and fear replaced the cheers of the spectators.
Blood tainted the intact seats while the smoke rose into the air, infiltrating the sky of southern Gotham, visible from all along the city’s coast. What fell across the stadium, permeating nearly every seat on the west side of the stadium, making its way into the halls that traced the inner workings of the building, was a thick green gas, forcing its way into the lungs of the men and women who were running for their lives, trampling each other.
Those closest to the explosion felt intense convulsions in their abdomens and spasms in their faces, involuntarily forced to bear wicked grins while their shattering breaths overtook the screams of terror in the form of wicked laughter.
Amidst the chaos, the charred photo that Zack once held fell slowly and gracefully, slightly charred, ignorant of the horror that it had been subject to. Slightly charred, it landed a few sections away from the explosions, trampled upon by infected spectators who had no idea what was being done to them.
 
 
A Few Minutes Earlier…
James Gordon’s office at the Gotham City Police Department headquarters was quiet as he sat at his desk, resting his elbows on its surface with his hands clasped, opposite Astrid Arkham, the frail-seeming daughter of Jeremiah Arkham. She had requested a meeting with him, and he had assumed it was for an update into Batman’s investigation into her father.
“Gotham City needs something new,” she began, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened slightly, then his brow furrowed. “We’ve been in this… this state of insanity for decades now, and it is only getting worse. This city is no longer livable, Commissioner.” He resisted the urge to groan. The only difference in Gotham City as it was and the Gotham City of before was that the murders had become spectacle.
When supervillains pushed out mobsters and gangsters, there was a shift in crime, but the results remained the same. Salvatore Maroni and Carmine Falcone knew how to keep their business quiet to the public unless they were in active war. Those were the good old days, now.
“Insane, maniacal supervillains,” she continued. “They rule the streets whenever they so choose. The police cannot deal with them, not under you. You rely on the Batman,” there was venom in her voice as she spoke the name, “and she sweeps up the problems while bringing deranged cultists and assassins into this city. She’s the heir of a small personal army with untold technology and she runs free. The Joker Riots, the assassin siege, Simon Hurt, all because the Batman has infested this town with these misguided thoughts of the supernatural, supposedly haunting our city.” Gordon remained silent.
“Essen’s incentives are now failing,” she said, watching Gordon closely for a reaction. If he gave one, she couldn’t see it. “How many companies that were enticed by her incentives have moved headquarters out of Gotham? They pay nothing in taxes, they have Essen licking their boots, and it’s still not enough. Despite all that’s happened, we haven’t been through hell yet, Commissioner. We’ve only arrived at the gates.”
“If I may, Miss Arkham,” said Gordon, leaning back in his chair, scanning the young woman up and down. “What’s your point?” He understood what she was saying, and he feared she was right, but he didn’t like the conclusion she was bringing forth.
“You are antiquated, Commissioner,” she replied, her face straight. “Obsolete. Your methods don’t work anymore, the law you uphold is no longer effective. Besides that, you are getting old. I can see the fatigue in your face, the bags under your eyes, your paleness. You’re not the detective you used to be.” Astrid leaned forward in her seat, putting her weight on her cane. “Gotham needs something new.”
Gordon’s phone rang, and for a brief moment he was thankful for the reprieve — but only for a moment.
 
 
I’d say I feel bad for the people at the Nighthawks game, but, if I’m totally honest, they had it coming. It’s about time everything caught up to them.
While we all ruminate on what’s happening at the game right now, let’s listen to some good music. This is Confetti by Viscera.
 
 
Batman had listened to as many notes as she could about a green gas that made anyone who inhaled it laugh uncontrollably. It typically led to suffocation through the inability to control the diaphragm, but this time it didn’t, and it confused the Dark Knight. A familiar sight, an attack that resulted in eery laughter, and yet it wasn’t what the city had seen before. None of the victims that hadn’t been in the initial blast had died, though medical care for each of them was necessary.
As much as she cursed herself for being late, not able to save anyone as the events unfolded, she knew that she needed to take control as fast as possible. She, along with every person in the city, dreaded what this attack meant. The name of a particular clown lingered on everyone’s tongues, though no one dared invoke his name.
Batman wasn’t so sure, and she hoped that her gut feeling was right. Most of the bodies that were recoverable had been extracted from the blast zone, over a dozen dead and dozens more injured. Blood and soot equally covered the destroyed seats, and even more on the concrete below.
One thing caught Batman’s eye amidst the mess, two sections away from the initial blast. A small instant print photograph, half burnt, laid on the ground, covered in dirty boot prints. She picked it up and looked it over, squinting as she studied the subject.
It was a blonde woman, head down with wet hair covering her face. Almost lost in the details was a small trail of blood behind the hair, mixing with trailing makeup. Batman frowned as she flipped the image over, seeing the note for a specific seat in the section of the stadium that had been blown to bits.
She approached the seat and kneeled, ducking down to see under the seat. It was one of few that remained intact after the explosions. Zack Howard’s Final Stop was scratched into the bottom of the seat, and at the sight of it, Batman signalled to Oracle to scan the engraving. She couldn’t identify the woman in the photograph, but she could see clearly enough that the attack was targeted at a specific person.
Another killer, she thought to herself, fearing what it could mean for the city. Pyg almost tore the richest members of the city’s economy apart, and they were ready to throw their own to the wolves. Now, there’d been a deadly gas attack at a football game — one that had been sponsored by many of Gotham’s elite.
The idea that the Clown Prince of Crime had returned was already making its way through the city — Batman knew she would have to exert control over everything she could to keep it from tearing itself apart at the seams. She was more than prepared to do so.
“It doesn’t look good,” she said to Oracle.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant. “I hope it’s just another copycat, they’re much easier to deal with.”
“I don’t know,” Batman replied, looking back at the photograph. “Something’s different.”
submitted by ClaraEclair to DCNext [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 05:22 Every-Ad-667 AITAH For going no contact with my mom, after my sister went no contact with me, calling me a “heartless b-“?

Get comfy, this will a long ride. I (41f) am the middle of three daughters, ‘Shannon’ (43) and ‘Carrie’ (27) and well mom, we’ll call her ‘Brenda’.
I consider myself the quintessential “middle child”, constantly forgotten, not taken seriously and outright ignored. I got my sister’s hand-me-downs growing up, and don’t dare I ask for anything and actually get it, meanwhile, Carrie was given everything. In high school, Shannon got a tailored dress for prom, I got one off the rack. Shannon got a brand new Focus, I got a 1990 Cougar. Years later, Shannon wanted a newer car, so mom upgraded her to an Explorer. When my car fell apart at the seams, I went out and purchased an Accord. I will admit, mom did co-sign for me because I was only 19, but I was given hell for her doing so.
Shannon dropped out of college after an earthquake hit the area, then she moved in with her boyfriend at the time. I was living at home with mom, working and going to college. My paychecks every two weeks were going to mom to take care of my car note and insurance, all the while mom was paying Shannon’s car note, insurance, giving her money for bills AND Shannon had one of mom’s credit cards “for emergencies”.
While I was working and in college, I was expected to help with Carrie, who was in elementary. I would drop whatever I was doing to pick her up from school, take her to tutoring, cook dinner and help with homework. Mom was an administrative assistant for a private firm, she worked 7am-7pm. One night leaving college, I was involved in a serious accident on the way home, my car was totaled. I eventually was able to get another car from my settlement money, this time I didn’t need a co-signer. Around this same time, I was dropped from college because my grades suffered being spread so thin. I continued working full time, still giving mom money for our bills.
I eventually made the decision to enlist in the Air Force, this decision caught my entire family off guard. Most of the comments I received didn’t surprise me, most thought I wouldn’t succeed. The ones that were supportive, congratulated my decision. I prepared myself to leave home; I made an agreement with mom I would send money for my car note, with the understanding that when the time comes, I will come back for it. Well, that time came and I was met with hostility. Mom decided she wasn’t going to give my car back, it was hers, she “was making the payments”. By this time, mom had moved to Vegas with Carrie, unfortunately developed a gambling problem and I felt helpless since I was so far away.
We’ll fast forward a bit, Shannon is now living in Tennessee. I was medically discharged from the Air Force and after talks with Shannon, I went to live with her. We both worked and shared the bills, I got to reconnect with our older sister from our father’s side (we’ll call her Veronica), everything seemed great. Until… Mom called saying that my car is about to get repossessed, that helpless feeling came back. I ask mom for the information for the finance company, reach out to them, made a payment to stop the repossession, then called her back to let her know she’s caught up. Months go by, Shannon comes home early from work, only to say she was fired for a physical altercation with a coworker. Shannon goes on to say, this is the perfect time to work on her music career. I began working double shifts to cover the bills, all while Shannon is going to the studio. Mom calls one night frantic and furious, the car was repossessed and she was on the bus going to work. This causes a huge blow up between the three of us, because mom and Shannon believe I called and had the car voluntarily repossessed (I did not). Shannon bursts into my room cursing/screaming over how I wronged mom, she grabs me by a leg and drags me out of our apartment and outside into the cold. Veronica picks me up, and I go to stay with her until I got my own place. Things begin to level out, forgive and forget and I start communicating with mom again.
After some time, I found out I was pregnant with my first child and make the decision to move to Vegas with mom. During this time I get to see first hand how badly her gambling habit truly is. I would watch her cash her checks, then immediately push money in a machine and loses it in minutes, this goes on for some time. I eventually have my son and months later start working. I save up to buy myself a car, as well as save up for his first birthday party. I was so excited, planning to go all out! That is until one day I get a call at work from my aunt who lived in our building, she’s noticed my mom coming and going frantically. I didn’t have a bank account at the time, and was keeping my money in a safe hidden in my room… well she found it! When I got home, my room was disheveled and money was gone, all but a few hundred. I took what was left, found a one bed one bath for my son and I and left mom’s apartment.
Enough back story! I’ll bring you to the present! We’re now living in Vegas; I purchased a home in 2015, Carrie moved to Arizona for college, mom, Shannon, Shannon’s 3rd baby daddy (Paul) and 4 kids had a rental home across town. Last summer, they all get evicted. Yes, it was for nonpayment, yes they ALL were gamblers. I allow everyone but Paul to come stay with me, this was not well received. Shannon eventually leaves with her kids, to stay with our cousin Candace, who allowed Paul to be there too. Mom eventually is sent to live with Carrie, because we kept bumping heads. I’ll save you the guess work, Candace gets tired of them being there (rent free) and tells them to leave. Shannon blames ME for Candace putting them out, and gives me an ear full on Mother’s Day. Shannon tells me I’m a heartless b***h, she wishes we weren’t related and karma will eat me alive. I called mom to tell her what has transpired, her reaction was “why can’t we all just get along”. I lose it! She was so flippant and dismissive! No comment about Shannon living rent free in someone else’s home, or the uncalled for and hurtful words to me. So I told mom I needed some space and time, I won’t reach out to her and please don’t reach out to me, then I ended the call.
AITAH?
submitted by Every-Ad-667 to AITAH [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 05:16 marchowder Senior GSD Diarrhea

I’m desperate to see if anyone is experiencing the same thing as me. I have 10.5 year old German Shepherd dog that’s had allergies all his life. He’s on apoquel and on a salmon/grain free kibble diet. He’s allergic to chicken so we stay away from it. It’s mostly just itchy skin from what we’ve noticed. Recently we tried to swap him to the Stella & Chewy salmon kibble with freeze dried bits but he had diarrhea from it even though we did a slow months transition. It didn’t work out so we swapped him back to his old food.
He had a teeth cleaning and 2 moles removal and was on metronidazole which I thought was to prevent infection from his extraction site. He got dewormer and some probiotics to assist with the diarrhea because we thought it was just the food change.
It didn’t get better and we started to see fresh bright red blood in his stool. We went to the vet and he was put on Hills Gastrointestinal Biome food and steroids (20mg of prednisone where we ween him off a couple of weeks). He was still having bloody diarrhea until a week into the steroid and then there was no blood and solid stools. During all of this we adopted a new puppy (he had the diarrhea before the puppy and it turned into bloody diarrhea after the puppy). He was getting better with the puppy around too. Then when the steroids were switched to 10mg every 48 hours his bloody diarrhea came back. He goes probably 5 times a day and his morning stools are always solid with a little blood with the consistency of jelly. Then any poos after are all liquid and very mucousy with lots of fresh blood. His stool is still brown but the mucus makes it look it has a pastel grayish wrap. The only thing that I thought that could have caused the regression was I caught him eating the new puppy’s poo when he had an accident in the house and I didn’t notice.
We’ve done giarda tests 2 times and it’s negative. Stool sample came back negative for parasites and bacterial infections. He’s been dewormed again just in case and he hasn’t ate any of the new puppy stool since. I am at a lost what to do. He acts normal and still plays and eats and drinks more than normal because of the steroid. He doesn’t like the new puppy because he’s never been a very social dog. They sleep together but do not play together. So I am not sure if it’s solely stress from the new dog. We are waiting for an appointment with a vet internist and I kept thinking the worst. Has anyone experienced this? What worked for you?
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2024.05.16 05:05 Nosajhpled [We stopped robbing humans and started an orc-themed restaurant] - Chapter 25 - Fantasy

Previous
Chapter 1
"You imbeciles!" Fytistone shouted at the group.
"But Fy.." The woman standing before Fytistone began.
"No! You idiots abducted an Orc and brought him here!" Fytistone shouted.
"Her..." Derrick began.
"I don't care!" Fytistone screamed at the man, who recoiled from her anger. "They will look here first."
"Who would dare come here?" A man asked, "You are a pillar of this community."
Fytistone took a deep breath, "Yes, I am. But that Orc-loving mayor will come here first."
"Mayor Hamilton loves Orcs?" Derrick asked, "I didn't know that. I wonder if he and the imp are fighting over the Orc?"
Fytistone blinked a few times, "Shut up, Derrick. I don't want to know what nonsense you are spewing." Derrick looked down and mumbled something. Fytistone addressed the remaining humans in the room, "How long until he wakes up?"
"She," Said another man.
Fytistone sneered, "How long until it wakes up?"
"The spell should last twenty-four hours or so." The woman said.
"Fine, wait until tomorrow morning and get it out of here," Fytistone demanded. "I don't want it waking up or Hammy nosing around here. Understood?" The humans nodded.
A human male in the back raised his hand, "Uh, hi, uh, why not sneak her, I mean, it out tonight?"
"Because the guards will notice a single wagon and may want to inspect it. When there's more traffic tomorrow, they'll let you through without looking." Fytistone spoke slowly like she was speaking to a child. "The night guards are far more vigilant than the day guards."
"Ain't that the truth," a man said to the other woman in the room, "Your cousin didn't even look up as we brought her here."
—
"Good morning," Thorn said as she entered the big tent. Everyone had gathered for breakfast. The chatting stopped as Thorn sat down with her bacon, eggs, and coffee.
"Rose is missing!" Rick shouted as he ran into the tent.
"What?" Richard and Bob shouted.
"She didn't come back last night," Rick said, "I've looked all over for her."
Thorn looked at the panicking imp, "She's fine, imp. Maybe she needed some more time."
"Why didn't you say something last night?" Richard asked, ignoring Thorn.
"I, uh," the imp looked down, "I thought maybe she didn't want to see me yet." Rick kicked the ground, "Maybe Thorn was right."
"She's wrong," Ben and Betty said together. Thorn glared at them, and they glared back.
"Ben and Betty are right. She would have come back," Bob said, "She wouldn't have abandoned you." He gave Thorn a nasty look, "No matter who thought of what."
Richard rose from the table. "We need to search for her. I'll get a party together. Bob, you stay here with twins and run the restaurant."
"I'm going," Rick said, "I can smell where she has been."
Thorn looked at the little imp, "You can smell her? I can't believe that. Too many creatures have been through here."
"No, no, I can," Rick said, "She smells of flowers and rain. Everyone has a smell."
"What do I smell like, Rick," Bob asked.
"Gold and dirt," Rick said bluntly.
"Yeah, that tracks." Bob laughed.
The twins looked at each other, "What about us?" They asked.
"You smell of fire, wood, and hope," the twins nodded. “Great Orc Richard smells of sorrow and fallen leaves in autumn," Richard frowned and nodded. “Thorn smells like…" The imp's eyes widened, and he looked away.
"What do I smell like, Imp?" Thorn growled.
"Death." The imp whispered.
Thorn rose from her seat and stared down at the embarrassed imp, "You have a good nose, little one. And you spoke the truth." Thorn looked at Richard, "The imp and I will find Rose. I'm sure she's fine. Probably fell asleep under a tree."
The Orcs looked at each other, and finally, Richard said, "Okay, for now. But if she's in trouble, we'll come help."
Thorn laughed raspily, "No, death stalks the plains today." She turned and left the tent with the little imp running after her.
"I pray to all the gods that nothing has happened to Rose," Richard said. "For her sake and anyone stupid enough to cross those two."
Bob sighed, "Who's going to do the most property damage? Rick or Thorn?"
"Yes," Richard said as he went back to his breakfast.
–
Shaman Thorn and the Imp Rick stalked the camp. Everyone, Orcs, humans, imps, trolls, and giants, stayed out of the way. Soon, they found themselves on the road. Rick's nose was close to the ground like a hound on the trail of a fox.
"Here," Rick said as he stopped. "She was here with many humans and a horse. Her scent was strong but is now weaker."
Thorn inspected the ground and mumbled as she walked around. She stopped next to Rick, "A wagon. There are wheel tracks. I can sense some magic. Faint."
"What does that mean," Rick asked in a panicked voice.
"That Rose rode in a wagon towards the town," Thorn was attempting to not worry, but the more they looked, the more worried she became.
The two strange companions walked in silence toward the town. Neither wanted to talk to the other. Clouds hung in the sky as if watching them walk. Rick pointed to a road that branched off from the main road. They followed it all the way to the side gate.
"Rick!" A guard shouted. Rick looked up and waved. The guard approached the two. "What brings you here?"
"We are looking for the Orc Shaman Rose," Thorn announced, bringing the guard's attention to her. His eyes went wide, and he looked up at the intimidating Orc.
"Uh, well, I, uh," The guard bowed, "Welcome to our town."
"Don't bow, boy. It leaves your head exposed. One swipe and I could take your head right off your shoulders," Thorn said, looking down. Wide-eyed, the guard looked up. Thorn smiled a toothy grin. "Orcs don't bow."
"Right, right, uh," The guard said, "I haven't seen any orcs this morning."
"I can smell her; she came this way," Rick said, getting agitated.
"Maybe yesterday," the guard shouted over his shoulder, "Who was on duty yesterday?"
"Ted," Someone shouted back.
The guard sighed exasperated, "Well, that doesn't do any good. He doesn't do any work." He looked at Rick, "Maybe she came through yesterday. Does she know anyone here?"
"Batty," Rick said excitedly, "She could be visiting Batty."
As the two left, the guard waved over another guard, "Run to the Mayor and tell him they are here."
"Why, sir? They don't seem here to make trouble?" The new guard said.
"Call it a gut feeling, Those two could level this town.”
"An old Orc and an imp?" The new guard laughed.
The guard looked at him, "Yes, now run!"
–
"Something isn't right," Rick said. "Here, the smell stops and turns. The tavern is that way," he pointed.
"Rick! Thorn!" Mayor Hamilton shouted as he ran up to them. His face was red from the exercise. He stopped before the two and caught his breath. "Uh, I, uh, welcome to our town, Shaman Thorn." He bowed his head. "Hi Rick, I heard you are looking for Rose."
"Yes, but her smell goes that way." The imp pointed.
"Oh," The Mayor squeaked. He frowned. Then he growled, "Oh."
"Something the matter, Mayor?" Thorn asked.
"Yes, there is someone who lives that way, and I'm hoping she has nothing to do with this," The Mayor said.
"With what?" Batty asked as she and Battleax walked up.
"Rose is missing!" Rick shouted.
"What!" Batty shouted. She looked at her dad, who was looking toward where Rick was pointing. "Doesn't Fytistone live down that lane?"
"Yes," Battleax and Hamilton said together.
Batty and Rick began a fast march down the lane, and the rest followed.
"We burn her house down," Batty said.
"We kill everyone and then burn down the house," Rick said.
"Okay, everyone, calm down," Battleax said. He looked at Hamilton, who shook his head.
"It's a bad day with a Battleax is telling everyone to calm down," Hamilton said.
Thorn barked a laugh, "Truth." Her voice lowered, "But those two have a point. Rose better be fine."
As they approached the house in question, Fytistone walked out the front door. "Oh my, good morning Mayor, Battleaxes." She looked at Rick and Thorn and sneered, "You."
"Ah, Fytistone, good morning, ah, yes," The Mayor began. "We are looking for a friend. Tall, green Orc goes by the name Rose."
"Never heard of it," Fytistone sneered.
"Right, right, so we have a missing Orc, and we are wondering…" The Mayor began.
"Good!" Fytistone shouted, "We can lose a few more of them."
"Where is she?" Batty shouted as she took a step forward.
Battleax grabbed her arm and said, "Not yet, Batty."
"Where is Rose?" Thorn asked in a low grumble.
"Not here," Fytistone rolled her eyes.
"I can smell her," Rick said.
Fytistone laughed, "Orc stench is everywhere now. One less Orc would make this town smell better."
Hamilton held his arms out, keeping Batty and Rick from charging Fytistone. "Now, Fytistone, uh, we are just wondering if you have seen her."
"No, and I don't like this accusation," Fytistone sneered, "I have things to do. So good…"
The house exploded.

Check out my new website. You can find everywhere I post my stories!
https://links.hellodearreader.com/
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2024.05.16 04:55 CaptainChristopher02 My Floridian Arxur Daughter (Part 30: A Visit to the ER)

Memory Transcript Subject: Carlos Jose Rodriguez, Mechanical Engineer, Florida Man
Date [Standardized Human Time]: December 29th, 2136
When Yalga passed out on the couch I sent a message to the family group chat making sure everyone knew of the situation.
I needed to get Yalga into the hospital, but I didn’t want to do it myself. Pyon also needed a sitter, so I was waiting for mom to come back so Salisek and I could focus on Yalga.
Me: Yalga burned herself on the heat pad. We’re taking her to the ER. Mom, could you come home to take care of Pyon.
Mom: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BURNED HERSELF?! We’re coming home!
Tarvik: On our way. We’ll help you take her.
I didn’t want to bother them, but I couldn’t complain. I needed help. While I waited for them to arrive I poured a cool glass of water for Yalga so she could hydrate herself when she gets up. I gently nudged her awake, which made her groan in discomfort as her eyes opened.
“Dad? What’s going on?” She asked weakly. Her voice was a little rough.
“I’m gonna take you to the doctor,” I answered bluntly. “I am aware, you don’t love doctors but these people can help you much better than me. I’ll be with you as much as I can, holding your hand. Can you be brave for me?”
My daughter nodded yes, so I got up and went upstairs to grab something we’re definitely gonna need. I also made sure Salisek got the news. She probably saw through the chat, but I needed to be sure.
I peeked into our room, or at least the room the girls were staying in together. “Honey?” I called the mother of my children. Salisek was cradling Pyon, trying to calm him down. Pyon was holding his teddy tight enough to cause some visible rips and tears. I need to ask mom to fix that later. “How is he?”
Pyon buried his face in Saliseks chest fur, and made some small whining sounds. “He’s scared. We heard Yalga scream and didn’t know what was going on. He soiled himself when he heard Yalga and has been crying for a while now. He only just stopped. He can sense I’m worried too.”
“You changed him right?”
“Yeah, although I didn’t think now was a good time for potty training. What are you getting?”
Salisek followed me to my mom’s room and watched me search around the closet. “Almost a decade ago, my dad was hit by a car. Something about the sensors being screwed up. He’s obviously fine now, but the car didn’t stop just in time so he broke a leg. Thank God that’s all he got. Anyway, he bought a wheelchair and kept it- Aha!”
I freed the simple contraption buried under a mountain of clothes dad considered put away and carried it downstairs.
“We’re gonna need this. It’s gonna be way easier to move Yalga.”
Salisek continued to cradle Pyon, rocking him back and forth, as she talked to me, “What do you need me to do?”
“Stay with Pyon.”
“No.”
“We’re not arguing about this. I need you to stay-”
“Pardon me, could you repeat that!? Have you forgotten that despite that fact we aren’t married yet we both signed as the legal guardians of both Pyon AND Yalga. Or did you want to call your barber for help?”
Hearing Salisek use her angry voice when talking about anything other than Exterminator and Federation bigotry felt like a punch in the gut.I tried to defuse the situation. That worked about as well as it did when dad tried it.
“Hun, that’s not what I mea-”
“MY-” Salisek paused when she remembered she was still carrying Pyon who was looking at her as if she yelled at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry pup just…” She shifted Pyon's position so he could bury his face into her fur to distract her. She softened her voice, but made it stern as steel. “My daughter is in an incredible amount of pain. She is scared, she is tired. I will be there. Pyon will come with, so he can see his sister being taken care of. I. Will. Be. There. For. My. Daughter. Am I clear?”
I help up my hands in defeat. “Okay. We’ll leave as soon as the family gets here.”
Saliseks voice and posture softened. “Okay. Again this time. What can I do?”
Seeing how serious she was, I realized doing this on my own was a stupid idea from the start. “Pack some snacks. I’m not getting overcharged for crappy hospital junk. And while you’re in the kitchen please grab more water for Yalga. I gotta make sure the bandaging is on well and she’s okay.”
“Okay.”
Salisek walked to the kitchen, still carrying Pyon. At times like these, I know I made the right decision marrying her.
“I love you sweetheart!” I called out.
“I love you too hun!” She called back.
I pulled the wheelchair out so Yalga could get in it. I could try and carry her, but unfortunately with her size and weight it would be better to transport her like this. Even if it’s a short distance.
“Daddy,” Yalga called.
“Yeah.”
“Are you and Mommy mad at each other?” She asked innocently. “Did I do something wrong? I heard Mom say my name.”
I knelt down to give my daughter an assuring kiss on her head. “No kiddo. We had a disagreement like all adults. It’s solved now. We still love each other.”
Despite her monotone voice, it couldn’t hide the tears building in her eyes. “Okay.”
I ignored it for the moment because she was probably gonna cry more in a moment. I opened the chair as much as it could go and gave the seat a nice solid pat.
“We’re gonna put you here, then we’re going to the Emergency Room.”
“Do I have to get up?”
“Yeah. You do. Grab my hand. We’ll go slow.”
Yalga held my hand and grasped it tight. I need to remember that she has a very strong grip. To keep her even I used my other hand to push her up from the other side so she didn’t have to do the work.
I’m so glad I go to the gym.
We slowly worked together to lift her up so she could sit straight.
“Ow, ow!”
“I know it hurts. Take your time.”
Once we got her up we had to get her into the chair. I thought about the best way to put her tail. Through the hole in the back? Would it just drag to the ground? Wait!
I went to the side of the couch where there was a thin blanket for me and Salisek when we slept here. If I can tie the blanket on the handles it can keep her tail up without squishing it. I just need to get her on first.
“Okay Princess. Let’s get up. Can you stand?”
“Y-Yeah. Um, Dad?”
Yalga awkwardly clutched her tail. “I need to use the bathroom.”
My eyes darted from the bathroom to the couch and back. “No better time to test the wheelchair.”
[Memory Transcript Time Skip: 40 Minutes]
Even though it was getting late the traffic was still a lot. Once Salisek was ready we both called our parents and they both said that traffic was heavy. With it being the last Saturday of the year, Florida residents and tourists alike were enjoying their day.
We decided to just meet at the ER. The blanket trick for Yalga’s tail worked well and it didn’t hurt too much for her to walk once she got up. However, sitting down hurt her a lot unless it was in the wheelchair. Her tail probably played a factor since it didn’t have a place to sit except on the side when dealing with regular chairs.
Once we got to the hospital I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t that packed. Because of increased tourism and parties things can get crowded this time of year. Thankfully that wasn’t the case today. I didn’t want my daughter waiting more than she had too.
When I opened the side door, Yalga was already half up just so she could get into a chair with room for her tail. I helped carry her down and rolled her through the hospital's parking lot.
Salisek was having a difficult time carrying Pyon. He was pretty nervous. “Mawmy, I don wan to gow en.”
I didn’t understand why Pyon was scared but Mawmy was able to calm him down. “It’s okay pup. This place is filled with very nice and smart people who can help your big sister.”
My daughter didn’t say much, instead she looked around the large hospital and took in all the architecture and bright lights at the front. The front and lobby areas were clean and comfortable which helped a little to ease the tensions of anyone going in with something they believe is serious.
I rolled Yalga straight to the front desk and we were greeted by the medical receptionist. “Hello, how may I help you?”
I smiled politely and spoke calmly, “Hello, I’m Carlos Rodriguez and this is my daughter Yalga. She was using a heating pad and unfortunately suffered some burns. I was able to patch her up a little, but the gels and methods we have are for humans so I want to make sure she can heal properly. I would also like a professional to look at other areas of concern dealing with her limbs and back.”
“Any pain, shortness of breath, chest pain, profuse bleeding?”
“Her back usually causes her pain and the burning made it worse.”
She gestured to my fiance and son, “Are those two with you?”
“The tall Venlil woman is Salisek, my fiance, and she’s holding our son Pyon. They came for emotional support and to assist with anything Yalga may need.”
“We’ll get you someone right away. Please wait in the lobby.”
“Thank you.”
I knew they probably wouldn’t rush us in since even though Yalga is in pain, there’s no direct threat to her life. The most they’d do is probably a tetanus shot. I suppose I’ll have to worry if Yalga reacts to needles. I’ll try to calm her down because I could tell Yalga was still tense. I rolled her to a seating area with a TV playing Tom and Jerry.
Peak Fiction
With all the stress Yalga was going through, there’s nothing like cartoon violence to ease the mood. What would also ease the mood is having the family visit which according to a message they just sent, they were already here just finding parking.
Soon everyone entered the hospital and after a quick chat with the receptionist, along with me flagging them down, they joined us in the lobby. Helen and Chalta ran to Yalga the quickest.
“Yalga, are you okay?!” Chalta asked. “We heard your back got hurt!”
Helen was about to tackle Yalga into a hug before I stopped her. “Helen, Yalga isn’t feeling well. Please be careful she’s in a lot of pain.” Helen was visibly worried but still gently gave Yalga a supportive hug.
“Get better soon please.”
Talice and Tarvik were surrounding Salisek, asking questions on how they could help.
“Mom, it’s fine, really.”
“No, it’s not fine. Your father and I are here to help so please be honest with us. We’ll help with anything you need. We’ll take Helen home soon but the moment you need anything we’ll be right there.”
“Why isn’t she seeing a doctor yet? What kind of place is this?!”
Mom went over to Salisek who was still holding Pyon. “I can take him sweetie, get some rest.”
Salisek cradled a stressed Pyon in her arms, “Do you wanna go with Grandma, little pup?”
“Gwandma.”
Salisek gently handed Pyon over to my mother who instantly knew how to calm him down. Salisek fell into the chair next to me. She was pretty exhausted and it was getting late. The stress of everything is what really made her worry. Seeing your child in pain isn’t fun. My father put a hand on each of our shoulders.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
I looked over to my daughter who was trying to watch the cartoon with her sisters but still had a hard time focusing because of the pain, as evident by her trying to adjust herself. I gave her a tap on her shoulder and mouthed “how are you feeling?”. I could only hear a little whisper, but it was enough to understand she was saying “It still hurts.”
Dad could overhear what we were trying to say and knelt down next to Yalga. “What would you like to do when we leave?”
“I’m a little hungry. Can we go eat later?”
“Of course, anything you want.”
I was grateful for my dad, that we remembered to comfort Yalga in all this. I was so new to everything, not to mention the speed at which everything was happening.
…
Where’s the doctor!
“Carlos Rodriguez,” She called just as my patience was wearing thin. “We’re ready to see you now.”
“Thank you. One moment.”
I quickly talked with my parents and in-laws about who is going home and who is staying. My mom offered to take Pyon home and to tuck him in, Salisek agreed. Talice decided to go with and made sure to bring Chalta and Helen back since they knew they might get bored or cause trouble. Tarvik and Dad were conversing for a bit about who should stay before settling on Dad since he’s more familiar with the hospital.
Salisek gave Pyon a strong nose nuzzle, “I’ll see you later, okay Pyon? Mommy will be home soon. Be good to grandma, okay?”
“Owkay Mawmy.”
“I love you.”
“I wuv yu tu.”
Helen and Chalta gave Yalga a big, but gentle, hug.
“Get better soon.”
“We’ll play lots of games together when you get back.”
Everyone quickly said their goodbyes so it was just me, Yalga, Salisek, and Dad. We followed the nurse to a room and were asked to wait until the doctor arrived. Yalga was really on edge.
“Dad, are you gonna tell Odin about me?”
“It hasn’t crossed our minds. Do you want us to call him so you can talk for a bit?”
“No thank you, I don’t want him to worry.” My daughter fidgeted with her claws in shame. She didn’t want Odin to see her hurt. The moment she’s okay, I’m planning a date for her and Odin. With chaperones of course. “Are the doctors here nice?” Yalga asked nervously.
“Of course they are, Princess. Just answer honestly and they’ll help you get better.”
They’ll help you get better… I hope.
[Memory Transcript Time Skip: 60 Minutes]
“So the spray will help heal and clean the burn so it doesn’t get sick?” Yalga asked curiously.
“That’s right,” Dr. Brown stated. “Soon we’ll give you a small shot to help protect against tetanus. It’s a very dangerous condition that can happen when you get a cut or burn. But you’re being very brave, I’ll see if we can get you a treat later. That is, if your parents are okay with it.”
“gasp Can I daddy?! Pleeeeeeease, I’ve been soooo good.”
I smiled brightly, “Of course you can.”
Dr. Brown was a huge blessing. The guy had been working with kids for a while and was great with Yalga. He was really good at relaxing her and explaining to her what was going on. He was honest and genuine. Salisek really liked him too, and even asked some questions herself. I also remembered him during my reckless years. He recognized me too.
“You’re daddy was quite the troublemaker back in his day.”
“Really?”
“Yup, when he was small he proudly came to me with a broken wrist.”
“Why would he be proud of that?”
“He got it trying to impress his crush.”
Seven-year-old me told you that in confidence.
I awkwardly looked at Salisek, but all she could do was stare and slowly smile while turning to my dad for more information.
“Do you happen to know the full story, dad?” Salisek teased.
“Well daughter, Carlos had a small crush on this girl named Jessica in the second grade and he tried to impress her by jumping off the swing set. He succeeded and flung himself so far into the air that when he landed on his wrist he needed a cast for months.”
“H-Hey! You laugh but it worked. She sat next to me at lunch and gave me her lunchables, that’s like… the pinnacle of love in second grade.”
I earned a laugh from everyone in the room, which almost made me forget that it was at my expense.
“Um, what is a lunchable?” Dr. Triva asked. She was a Zurulian working with Dr. Brown, trying to work with and understand the Arxur biology. While she was important in treating Yalga’s burn with her experience with Harchen Exterminators she would be even more important in trying to understand her condition as a whole. Zurulians have the best medical understanding compared to… pretty much everyone.
“It’s a children’s meal kit for both vegan and non-vegan foods, it’s popular for kids in school lunches.” Dr. Brown took his eyes off his colleague and gave me a sly look. “But let’s be honest, there was never any real meat in those things.”
Yalga’s interests also peaked. “Were they tasty?”
“Back in my day they were the best part of school. They were also a status symbol. Having the best lunchables meant you were the coolest kid.”
“What was the best one, Daddy?”
“Pizza.”
Of course it was pizza. It’s always pizza.
Pizza is God’s gift to the world.
Dr. Triva grabbed the syringe for the shot while Dr. Brown prepped the area. The sight of the needle made Yalga nervous.
“D-Daddy, do we have to…”
“Hey Princess, look at this.”
Yalga took her gaze off the needle and onto my phone where I showed her my favorite distraction.
[Behold Distraction]
“What is that?” Yalga asked. “I like the sounds.”
The legend Zach Choi, his legacy continued by his descendants, loved making short videos of him just cooking. This one was one of the rare ones that didn’t feature meat. Yalga was fully entranced into the process that she didn’t even react to the needle or the bandaid.
“Good job my beautiful pup!” Salisek cheered.
“Yeah… in a minute, mom.”
Dr. Brown chuckled, “I think I should start using those for nervous patients, right Dr. Triva?”
“Yeah… in a minute, Dr. Brown.”
I took my phone away before everyone forgot why they were here and we were ready to proceed. The doctors wanted to really get a look at Yalga and her condition. On the promise of peanut butter cookies and meat lovers pizza Yalga bravely went through all the X-Ray’s, bloodwork, medical history, and any other examinations they needed.
It took a while and she was starting to get frustrated with all the tests, but she persisted, and soon it was over. They allowed us to stay the night to monitor the burn area in case complications arose. So we all stayed in the hospital room, enjoying our time together as if it was a little adventure.
“Mommy look, the bed moves!”
“Pup, please don’t break it.”
Yalga went crazy when she saw how many buttons the hospital bed had, and needless to say, she was enjoying it. She kept Dad occupied with all her questions both about the hospital and about anything else her mind could think of. She was happy to be done with the tests.
“Grandpa, do you think they’ll let me see my bone pictures later?”
“Sure, but they need someone who is trained to look at them first and show them to the doctors.”
“There’s someone who knows how to look at pictures of bones?”
“Yup, they can see things we can because they’re bone smart. Do you wanna be a doctor when you grow up?”
“I dunno. Maybe I can be a doctor for bones, a bone doctor!”
It was nice seeing her happy, but Salisek and I were still worried about what they would find. What would it take to heal Yalga? Could they do it? I think so, but how long will it take? I don’t care about the financial cost, I care about the physical and mental toll it would take on Yalga. But would we have a choice?
I looked to my fiance who was rapidly tapping her foot onto the ground, impatiently waiting for the doctor to come back in and give us the news on Yalga’s condition.
“It can’t be that bad right?” she whispered. “With aid from the Zurualians they must have a way to easily fix Yalga’s condition. So what’s taking them so long?”
“They’re probably just double checking some things. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I could tell she was still stressed, so I held her hand and kissed her cheek. “Our daughter will be fine.”
Salisek tried to keep herself from crying for Yalga’s sake, but had the doctors not finally arrived she might’ve broken.
“Carlos, Salisek? You’re the parents correct?” Dr. Trivia asked. “I’ll just need to see you both very quickly to discuss some things.”
Finally ready for some answers we quickly got up, kissed our baby goodbye for now, and followed the Zurulian to a small room with Dr. Brown.
“Mr. Rodriguez and Mrs., do you prefer to be called Salisek or are you fine with adopting Mrs. Rodriguez?” The doctor politely asked.
“I’m fine with either, but I would like to get used to Mrs. Rodriguez.” I could feel her hand strengthen her grip in mine.
“Wonderful,” Dr. Brown took out a small folder that showed some of Yalga’s X-Rays, notes, and documents. “First things first, your daughter's burns should heal very soon.”
“Courtesy of Zurulian medicine and Harchen Exterminator Accidents.”
“Yes, thank you Dr. Triva. But of course this is not the only information you wanted to know about. The condition of your daughter is concerning. Not only because of the condition of her injuries, but also her condition that allows her body to grow at an exaggerated rate.”
Dr. Triva put the X-Ray slides on a projector for us to see. Seeing Yalga’s bones and how badly they were broken made my stomach turn, and my heart sink. I could hear Salisek’s gasp from how shocked she was.
It looked like a child had rearranged the right side of her body like a poorly constructed jigsaw puzzle. What made things worse was that the other side of her body looked nearly untouched meaning we could see all the damage her sperm donor did. I know how it felt to have broken a few bones as a kid. Her life would’ve been torture for me. I have know idea how she could live like that.
Why didn’t I take her here the moment we got home? How long has she been suffering like this?
“As you can see the limbs that didn’t grow as much were the ones that were injured the most. Trauma can be a factor in how limbs develop,” Dr. Triva explained. “You can see here how the bones didn’t heal correctly. Upon questioning your daughter it’s no question her back holds the most problems, but looking at her arms and legs it’s possible they’re also providing an incredible amount of discomfort and pain.”
Salisek wrapped her tail around my leg nervously. “So, what does this mean?”
“It means,” Dr. Brown continued. “That before we even think about her back we should address what’s going on in the rest of her body. If you look at her pelvic bone you can see it isn’t straight due to her walking on uneven legs for lord knows how long. So we think it would be best to first start realigning the bones as well as doing the appropriate extensions. My only concern is that her accelerated growth may cause complications, so she’ll need to visit here frequently.”
My fiance’s grip tightened as she looked deeper into the X-Rays, “I see. How long will it take for her to recover?”
“Several months, due to the severity of it. We can do the arms and legs separately, but that would be up to you. There’s a possibility it could take longer. We just can’t be certain with her growth, but we’ll have experts working round the clock on her case.”
“I-I see. But you can help her right?”
“We will do all within our power to make sure your daughter is healthy and lives a pain free life.
“Thank you… could you give us a moment. We would like to let our daughter know about it before we make arrangements.”
“Of course. Please let us know when you’re ready.”
We politely walked out of the room and turned around the corner away from where Yalga was.
“Honey?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”
I almost fell over when she pulled me in for a hug. I could barely hear her through her bleats and cry’s. “Look at what that monster did to her.”
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submitted by CaptainChristopher02 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 04:38 2cool4ashe "THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING!! THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING!!" A post in /r/Ohio about highway driving etiquette veers into controversy when commenters argue about the 'correct' way to utilize the left lane.

For those of you who don't live in the US, the typical driving etiquette on highways is generally to drive in the right lane when driving the speed limit (or to match traffic), and to drive in the left lane when accelerating and passing cars.
So OOP makes a PSA thread in Ohio to address driving grievances they've noticed while living in Ohio:
It’s been 15 years since I moved to Ohio and I’ve held my tongue long enough. Far too many of you need to hear this.
THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING!! THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING!! THE LEFT MF LANE IS FOR MF PASSING.
God damn. I have never driven in a state with more left lane campers !it’s unreal how many are oblivious to this.
If you are not consistently passing someone on the right of you. Move out of the left lane
If someone is on ur ass you aren’t driving fast enough. Move out of the left lane.
It doesn’t matter if you are driving the speed limit move out of the left lane.
It’s not hard. And if everyone abides by this principle it actually increases the flow of traffic and saves everybody time.
Check your mirrors regularly and Move the fuck over.
You now have the tools to not be that dumb asshole holding everyone up.
Thanks in advance.
Although the OOP is rather succinct, Ohioians have plenty to say. Commenters will be abbreviated as C1, C2, C3, etc.
C1: All I’m saying is it’s not worth getting that angry about it. I don’t camp out in the high speed lane. You don’t have to do 90 all the time on the highway. Just calm down and enjoy the ride. There is no reason to be an ass. You’ll get to your destination just fine and in a better mood if you just give up that fight. C2: Nah people have places to be and they don't shouldn't have to deal with grandma who doesn't care about anyone else's time but her own, get out of the way and let people who are going faster than you pass you C1: Leave earlier then, allow yourself time to deal with every day frustrations. C2: You must be the grandma who can't understand that not everyone has the same time she does C1: Tell yourself whatever you need to so you can feel better about yourself. C2: People have places to be granny C3: Eat a dick, and while you're doing that, move the fuck out of the way. You have no right to impede others travels.
This redditor gets peeved when people ride his ass:
C1: My only issue with this (because I agree) is that if I am passing someone slower than the person riding my ass would prefer I will take issue with them riding my ass and then go out of my way to not accommodate their desires. Stay back and I will move over once I have passed. Ride my ass and you will be stuck for much longer than you like. C2: If there is someone riding your ass and you're in the passing lane, you're the asshole, not them. It shouldn't take long to pass a car and move out of the lane. C1: Nope. If I'm going 70 and passing someone and someone comes up on my ass going 90 they are going to have to wait until I finish passing. If they wait without riding my ass, no problem. If they do not, they can get stuffed. C2: So creating a dangerous situation for other drivers on the highway is OK when you feel the pathetically petty need to try to get back at another driver because they got a little too close to you?
Again, it shouldn't take long to pass someone, and you should be watching your rear view mirrors for faster moving traffic before you even get into the passing lane. If you can't get out of the lane before another car is on your ass, again, you're the one in the wrong. People who suck at driving are the ones who make your argument. C1: Nah, I just can’t stand tailgaters so I’m not going to reward their aggressive behavior. Give me 10 seconds to pass and stay off my ass. You aren’t entitled to never hit your brakes C2: Then you're a shitty driver for two reasons (at least, there are probably more)
1.) You can't conceptionally understand the concept that you are the one creating the situation causing the tailgating. If you're not in the passing lane and someone is tailgating you, then you have reason to be upset. But if you're in the passing lane you're the one in the wrong spot.
2.) You take things that happen on the highway personally. Just get the fuck out of the way and go on with your day. Trying to get petty revenge moving at high rates of speed in vehicles weighing over a ton is just stupid. C1: Nah, tailgating is a choice, and it’s against the law. Slow down, let me pass the slower moving driver and safety get over into the right lane when I’ve completed passing. If I’m legally passing in the left lane, you have no business tailgating me. Slow down C3: Turn in your license. You’re a dog shit driver C4: Wait so the person who is passing someone at 70 mph and then getting over is creating the dangerous situation while the 90mph ass rider who can't wait the few seconds it takes for the slower car to pass someone is not? You have it backwards my friend.
This redditor explains their genius strategy of passing left lane slow drivers by taking the right lane:
C1: Don't get upset. Just get in the right lane and burn past everyone. Sometimes you will have to slow down because people only enter the highway at about 40 MPH, but they will get in the left lane in a few seconds, leaving the right lane clear for your cruising pleasure. C2: You joke, but this is exactly how the Ohio Turnpike is. Three lanes and the right lane is always empty. It has, by necessity, become the real passing lane.
And it never fails, merging on you'll be behind somebody who seems perfectly content that they got to the end of the ramp at 45 MPH while the one vehicle actually using the right lane -- always a semi -- is barreling down the road and approaching at 75+. So you either have to come to a complete stop at the end of the ramp to yield because the jackass going 45 will barely make it in front of the semi and you won't, or floor it at the last second and get into the middle lane ASAP.
Another redditor says you can't complain about driving etiquette if you're speeding:
C1: I'll add one, if you're egregiously speeding you don't get to complain about anyone else on the road. C2: Agree. If anyone flies up and tailgates me while I'm going 15 over, we're now going to go the speed limit until they back off. C3: Nice work Deputy. Thanks for keeping the roads safe by being roadblock to other drivers C2: No problem. I really hope you don't get in a horrific car accident because you decide to speed instead of leave earlier! C4: Ummm, yeah. So why are you going 15 miles over? Are you late for something? C2: If I'm passing someone in the left lane, as is being discussed in the original post, I try to keep moving a bit faster. Would you rather people go the speed limit in the left lane? Something tells me you'd complain about that too. C4: No, I’m solidly in the camp of following the Rules of the Road. Efficiency and predictability. Purposefully blocking traffic causes frustration, which causes people to do stupid things, which causes accidents. Swallow your pride and move over for any traffic faster than you no matter how fast you are going. C5 [to C3's roadblock comment]: You're being a danger to everyone. You can't complain when you're already being that stupid. C1: The danger wouldn't be there had the person not been egregiously speeding, ergo the blame falls on them. C6: You are exactly the reason drivers in this state have this reputation. Your poor decisions are yours and yours alone. Two wrongs don't make a right, and your attitude is part of the problem. C1: I'm not defending blocking traffic. Never once did I say that. Your inability to comprehend what you've read is the only problem here atm.
Yet another redditor declares the OOP's rant to be moot:
C1: You worry about stupid shit. OOP: Its been proven to reduce accidents and save time. Just because ur too stupid to understand that doesn’t make it stupid. C1: Find more important things to worry about. C2: Found the asshole who doesn't know how to drive🖕 C1: Found the dipshit with nothing better to do than whine about traffic. C2: Nothing better to do because I'm stuck behind a Sunday driver. Seriously though it's a hazard, stay out of the left lane!
OOP did comment on a few other things, but at some point, they edited the post with this:
Edit: Lots of hurt butts in the comments. If You are in anything but agreement with me then, well, ur dumb. But for the sake of civilize discussion and higher learning let’s let the dumb dumbs, and dummy dumb nincompoops answer for themselves. Please tell us why it’s ok for you to be able to camp your two brain cells in the left lane and make me late for my cats soccer game?
For those of you that think my anger is silly and unjustified, my friend just nearly had her life taken from her in an accident with someone trying to get around a lane camper that as backing up traffic.
Yes this exists everywhere but Ohio particularly bad. Am I wrong for wanting Ohio to suck a little less?
This thread is still getting new comments, so feel free to browse it for more speedy takes!
submitted by 2cool4ashe to SubredditDrama [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 04:11 HolyShipAF Lying Coworker

This guy hasn’t said one sentence without lying the entire year I’ve worked with him. If he said the sky was blue I wouldn’t believe him.
The first month working there I caught him lying trying to get the mechanics in trouble. He cried to the owners son that the mechanics are throwing away $100 fuel filters in the dumpster. He claimed to find 3 in the dumpster the morning this all happened. I confronted him and asked to see the 3 filters he grabbed out of the dumpster. 1st he could only find 1 of the 3 filters. 2nd he claimed to found them at 7am and 3rd the filter he gave us had red tape on the box. None of the mechanics have red tape but this guy has red tape on his truck.
He stumbled to make a story after I called him out. Once he dug his grave I told him we had recently installed security cameras and I’ll go back and watch them. I told him if my mechanic threw away $300 in filter will bring him in and wrote him up. His face turned pale when he heard cameras. He stopped answering anything me and the owners son asked him.
Surprise surprise, the cameras found he was the one who threw the filter into the dumpster and retrieved it himself. It wasn’t at 7am. He rolled in at 9am and then threw the filter in the dumpster.
Anytime he gets yelled at by the owner or owners son for not doing his job he immediately deflects and tries to blame the mechanics for not fixing things he claims to have told us 3 weeks ago. It’s always he told us 3 weeks ago. There are never any calls records or texts to back this up.
Fast forward to today. We had his company vehicle in for rear brake service and AC repair. After completing the work we had 2 people test drive the truck and verify everything was good. We let the truck sit overnight and he picked his truck up this morning. He drove it all day, even drove it 2 hours home from a job site.
Magically once he got to his house he sprung a coolant leak. All the coolant leaked out and it will not hold any new coolant. This is the second time we repaired his truck and it breaks down once it hits his driveway. We had to send a mechanic to his house at 8pm to look at the leak and try and repair it. The poor mechanic already worked 10 hours today and was getting ready to wind down for the evening.
I’m convinced he poked holes and is trying to get a new truck because his has a 2014 and his partner was given a 2020. The trucks have gps units which hook up to the obd port and give us live feedback of engine fault codes. His truck never popped a code for low coolant or overheating which meant the leak didn’t happen until after the truck was parked and turned off.
I hope this fat fuck stubs his toe getting a midnight snack and ruins his snack time.
submitted by HolyShipAF to Vent [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 02:55 GoldWhale Ivan Demidov: The Debate for #2 that Never Should Have Been

Written by u/GoldWhale & u/JD397
Thanks everyone for your patience with us getting this written up. Much appreciation to my co-author u/JD397 for his work, scouting analysis, and comprehensive background knowledge on where Demidov sat compared to historical players, and the international analysis. Please note, this analysis won’t focus on why Demidov>Levshunov. In terms of BPA, Demidov is nearly unanimously over Levshunov based on consolidated rankings. With the Blackhawks publicly saying they want to go BPA, we hope to establish a case as to why Demidov truly stands above the rest, by a good margin. We hope that this was worth the wait, and we haven’t disappointed anyone who may have wanted more. We’re amateurs, give us a small break 😉
When Deputy Commissioner Bill Daly flipped the decisive card to reveal the number one overall pick, Blackhawks fans were disappointed. They were going to miss out on Macklin Celebrini, the consensus number one center and number one overall player in the draft. After winning Connor Bedard the prior year, many fans were hoping for a one two punch down the middle, their own version of McDavid and Draisaitl, Crosby and Malkin; this was not to be.
Despite the initial dismay, fans were still happy. The Blackhawks won the second lottery, and with that, the rights to select a franchise player at number two overall. Immediately, though, there was debate. Swirling on social media there were rumors that the Blackhawks were predominantly looking at two high end prospects: Ivan Demidov (RW/C) and Artyom Levshunov (D). On one hand Demidov is an elite prospect at wing with excellent hands, creativity, and legitimate top line wing with PPG+ upside. On the other, Levshunov is a dynamic offensive defenseman with a stellar shot, solid size, dynamic skating, and most importantly right-handedness.
The Blackhawks, realistically, need both positions. Last year the Blackhawks iced one of the worst offenses in the entire league, scoring the second least goals behind only San Jose. They also had the fourth worst defense, surrendering 290 goals on the season. Neither are acceptable in the push for a playoff spot in the coming years, but ultimately with number two, you can only choose one of the two players. After our hours of analysis, u/JD397 and I believe there is no debate – as good as Levshunov is, Demidov is closer in skill and projection to Celebrini than anyone else in the draft is to him.
So who is Ivan Demidov? He’s an 18 year old forward playing for SKA 1946, a MHL affiliate of SKA of the KHL. Since the 2023 draft the big story out of the KHL was the dominance of Matvei Michkov. This was a kid who destroyed the MHL by putting up 38 points in 22 games and going PPG+ in the playoffs his D-1 Year. Michkov then outperformed Connor Bedard by putting up 16 points in 7 games at the IIHF U18s in 2021. Michkov was, and still is, borderline generational but there was someone else waiting in his shadow. In his D-1 Year, Ivan Demidov put up 62 points in 41 games, and scored 1.3PPG in the MHL playoffs. While putting up a lower PPG pace than Michkov, Demidov’s game was substantially more well rounded and scouts started to take notice of another potential franchise winger in Ivan Demidov.
Demidov exploded in his D-0 Year, putting up a literal 2.0 PPG pace in the MHL the highest pace ever for a player 18 or under, and the third highest PPG in league history. In the playoffs, despite an injury, Demidov posted a ridiculous 28 points in 17 games. This production was unheard of beforehand and bested Kucherov’s 1.87 point pace at 18. Not only did Demidov have better production AND two way play, but he also did it nearly 7 months younger. Demidov remains a bright spot who is able to elevate his play to the competition. Before talking about playstyle, strengths, comps, projections, etc. it needs to be noted just how dominant Demidov was on the scoresheet.
Now that fans know who Ivan Demidov is, let’s address the elephant in the room. Demidov is Russian and with the political climate worldwide, being a Russian is associated with an inherent risk of a prospect not coming over. Rest assured – there is no such concern in this case. Last year, rumors swirled around Michkov not coming over due to three factors:
  1. Michkov did not meet with more than two teams and actively told specific teams he would not play for them.
  2. Michkov was incredibly difficult to get ahold of predraft and it made scouts and front offices skeptical on his character and desire to come to the NHL.
  3. Michkov had 3 more years left on his contract with SKA.
Demidov, on the other hand, is actively engaging with teams. He’s hosting a workout in Florida before the draft for multiple teams to attend, and is actively having his agent coordinate interviews and meetings with interested front offices. Demidov has publicly declared his intention to come over to the NHL as soon as possible, even venturing so far as to say he’s looking at options for getting out of his KHL contract to get to the NHL for the 24-25 season. Finally, Demidov only has 1 year left on his contract so there isn’t long term concern about losing the ability to develop him internally. An interesting note that we found during analysis was that Demidov’s agent, Dan Milstein, is “hated” in the KHL because of how consistently he pushes for his clients to leave Russia and transition them to the NHL. Even if Demidov is stuck in Russia all of next year, there’s almost zero risk he doesn’t come over.
On Demidov, the other large question that looms is his lack of play in the KHL, and SKA’s decision to play him in the MHL. Despite being the one of the best players in MHL history, Demidov only saw action in 4 KHL games and scored a total of 0 points which has also turned off many scoresheet watchers. Let us reassure you – Demidov was predominantly the 13th forward and played an average of 3-5 minutes per game with unfamiliar linemates. He did not have a chance to play enough to succeed, and built no chemistry with the teammates he was playing with in his limited time. SKA is notorious for handling their prospects poorly. Young players are consistently given limited ice time, especially when they’re expected to leave Russia. Michkov, despite his skill, couldn’t crack the SKA roster in his D-0 or D+1 simply because of this bias. All said, this is not a concern scouts have when it comes to the potential drafting of Demidov.
With the Russia question answered, we believe there is no doubt that Ivan Demidov is the pick to make in the 2024 draft. Ivan Demidov is really really good. He is the complete package for what you look for in a franchise winger. Demidov has excellent hands, dynamic edgework, elite hockey IQ, high end compete and energy, a relentless forecheck, creativity in the offense he provides, solid two way play, and finally rapid speed in terms of release and puck control. There is no one like him in this draft who offers such an elite skillset with no obvious flaws in his game outside of his build. He can also play center when needed which gives him additional offensive flexibility and adds even more dynamism to his game.
While analytics don’t tell the full story, they can often be a useful baseline to build from. The first item we want to call attention to is Byron Bader’s model, which projects Demidov as the best #2OA prospect since Eichel.. Let's again be clear, we don’t put much merit into this due to the low gradings of Carlsson and Laine, but it’s important to contextualize how Bader’s model works. It compares prospects to the league they’re in and projects them out. Demidov dominated the MHL to such a degree that the model favorably views him due to being almost untouched in play, and setting multiple records. Continuing with Hockey Prospecting and Bader, who is an active NHL draft consultant, they project Demidov to be an absolute STUD based on production. No forward who they’ve ever given 99%s to has ever been less than PPG+. Demidov has a very comparable offensive game to Celebrini, and is all but guaranteed to be a star due to his production and skillset. Alanen also projects Demidov to be elite in all 3 zones, and gives him a total RARE grade of 100, due to his next level offense and transition, and above average defensive work despite his assignments. Again, analytics aren’t an end all be all by any means. They’re just an exceptional base to build from when scouts, data scientists and NHL draft consultants unanimously believe a player to be elite. From our research, no prospects with comparable profiles have busted or not succeeded in the NHL.
Whilst reading multiple articles, watching videos on Demidov, and going through tape, we compiled the following scouting report.
Physical Attributes:
Demidov is not very physically imposing, or even one of the most physical players in the draft. He’s expected to show up to the combine around 6ft tall and weighing 170lbs. Admittedly one knock that some scouts have for him is his build and need to bulk up. Thankfully, this is easy to build at the professional level. Nonetheless, Demidov has sturdy base that enables him to dominate around the boards and in front of the net due to his rapid twitch movements and lower body power. Demidov is able to outskate and outwork larger and stronger players by being smart with his legs and driving to the inside consistently when in transition. His remarkable agility and lower-body strength allow him to outmaneuver opponents and maintain possession in tight spaces, or separate for quick attacks or desperation back checking.
Skating:
Demidov's skating is characterized by irregularities; while he exhibits great power on his edges, his transitions suffer due to a wide stance, leading to questionable but explosive pivot work. Despite this, his rapid acceleration and agility enable him to navigate through traffic seamlessly, while his powerful stride generates significant momentum, making him a constant threat in transition. Let’s clear up a misconception; Demidov is not a bad skater. He’s got decent speed, a good handle on body control, power on the inside of his edges and with quick crossovers, etc. His posture and stance need work, but this is something that looks completely fixable at the NHL level. It doesn’t require a rebuild of his skating style, rather a retool that can utilize his edgework as a base. Instead of hunching over at the end of a shift and losing speed and energy, Demidov can rely on quicker small movement cuts on for rapid movement and longer, albeit slower strides while holding himself higher to preserve energy while covering distance. While the 10 and 2 skating that Demidov employs isn’t conventional, it allows him to see a good deal of the ice, and when in close provide breaking speed towards the play. Fixing the reliance on 10 and 2 also offers faster top level skating and easier quick pivoting in a 200ft game, rather than a longer turn. Again, his skating is unorthodox – but it isn’t bad. It’s not mechanically sound, but it can be polished to a high level without a large amount of concern. Because of how unpredictable his skating is now, scouts across the board acknowledge that it potentially even grants an advantage as his body is harder to read.
Scoring Ability:
A natural sniper, Demidov possesses a lethal shot with pinpoint accuracy and a lightning-quick release that catches goaltenders off guard. Whether he's unleashing a blistering wrist shot from the slot or wiring a one-timer on the power play, Demidov consistently finds the back of the net with precision and finesse. One really underrated part of Demidov’s scoring ability comes from the aforementioned elite edgework. Due to how rapidly he can change directions while holding full control over the puck, he can create scoring lanes with almost zero room, and his accuracy is again one of the best we’ve evaluated as amateur scouts in the last few drafts. When there isn’t an immediate opening or shot, Demidov is patient, draws coverage where he wants, and again has no qualms about firing the puck to the net. If there’s one question about his ability to score, it’s his slapshot. He hasn’t had to use it in almost any occasion due to how the offense is structured on SKA 1946, and therefore it’s not as developed as his snap or wrister. This is a relatively minor knock, though. Demidov can take slapshots and find twine without much difficulty, it’s just the least refined part of his goalscoring ability.
Playmaking and Elite Hands:
Demidov has the best hands that we have scouted. Better than McDavid, better than Fantilli, better than Hughes, better than Bedard, better than Michkov, and yes, better than Patrick Kane as a prospect. Yep, that good. Hadi Kalakeche, one of Dobber’s lead scouts says, “…he has THE best handling skill I’ve seen… he’s the closest thing we’ve seen to Pavel Datsyuk since Pavel Datsyuk.” The rapidity of his movement, the purposeful puck placement, the astounding protection rate, and his ability to pull defenders off of him without moving his body is unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. Again, he has the most individual puck skill and innate offensive talent in the draft. These skills with his hands allow him to become an absolutely next level playmaker. Demidov is crafty, and has a history of faking shots to make a pass, or vice versa to help his team. He’s able to create lanes and take advantage of his puck control by having absolutely next level zone entry to set up the offense on a consistent basis. While his decision making needs some work when it comes to choosing the best move, he almost always makes the right one, and is able to think through solutions when there’s no apparent move forward. Whether it’s a drop pass, running the puck up the boards, a regroup, finding a teammate with a perfectly slotted pass, Demidov has no real ceiling. The only question remains is whether these skills will work as well at the next level. All said though, there’s no real debate between scouts that he’ll be a franchise winger.
Creativity and IQ:
Demidov is electrifying, brilliant, dynamic, innovative, transcendent, and any other adjective you want to use. There is no prospect in this draft with Demidov’s offensive upside, including Macklin Celebrini. As mentioned above, Demidov has been compared to Datsyuk: he is stellar at opening up lanes with his body or finding passes, even if they’re banked off the boards. While Bedard is a guy who was expected to shoot first, Demidov is a passer. This works in his favor, though. Demidov certainly doesn’t lack a scoring touch. His positioning and body will tell goalies and defenders he’s planning to pass and he’s able to quickly change direction using his edges to put a shot on net. His ability to think several steps ahead of the play allows him to execute highlight-reel passes and capitalize on scoring opportunities that others on his team might miss, or simply not have the skill to execute. He’s unpredictable because his vision is at such a high level. He’s got a game reminiscent of Jack Hughes and Patrick Kane, and the way he views the game has scouts absolutely over the moon about his pro projection. There really is nothing that Demidov doesn’t have the ability to do – this year in the MHL he took advantage of the strength of competition and tested it out. Demidov tried different reads, different styles, working more heavily down the middle, shooting, playdriving, etc. We’re blown away by the flexibility that he shows across every facet of the game. A really fun quote to mention from Lassi Alanen, EP’s director of Euro scouting is, “I still have like 100+ unused clips of Demidov's play from this season. He must be the most clippable prospect I've ever watched. Something eye-catching happening almost every shift during his second half of the season.” Demidov’s highlight reel isn’t really a “reel” – that’s just how he plays the game on most shifts that he takes.
Physicality and Defensive Awareness:
Demidov's physicality extends well beyond his height, as he isn't afraid to throw his weight (all 170lbs) around and engage in board battles to win possession. His defensive awareness is equally impressive, as he uses his size and reach to disrupt passing lanes and apply pressure on opposing forwards both in the defensive zone and in the neutral zone, showcasing a commitment to playing a complete, two-way game. As briefly mentioned, Demidov doesn’t exclusively play wing – he plays center too. While he’s not going to be Patrice Bergeron he is capable of handling both ends of the ice, and has consistently improved his defensive play throughout the year.
Work Ethic and Engagement:
While almost all prospects “work hard” to play their best on the ice, Demidov does that little bit more. Despite being a winger, he’s consistently one of the first players up and down the ice. He rarely coasts and drifts around but is engaged rather consistently all around the ice. One thing that’s often hard to teach prospects is how to be aggressive and assertive without being risky. Demidov never worries about challenging his opponents, fighting hard board battles, or giving his all to get back into a play after he’s low after driving to the net. This is something that the Blackhawks LOVE in their players, and should hopefully encourage GMKD to pull the trigger, if everything else didn’t sell him. As we see Demidov continue to improve in skating with NHL coaches, this should only give him more energy to expend in the 200ft game, and improve his engagement across plays. He’s an absolute workhorse, and consistently pushes to improve which evidenced by the massive improvement across this season in the MHL. There’s no reason to think this same drive can’t come through on the NHL level.
Areas to Improve and Questions:
With all the hype around Demidov, it’s hard to initially understand why he’s considered a lower end prospect than Celebrini. Digging in, though, it becomes more clear. While Demidov has the higher ceiling, he also has a much lower floor. The number one factor that limits Demidov is his exposure to higher end competition. The MHL is a good league, but Demidov was ready for the KHL last year. Since he wasn’t exposed to higher end competition there is still question on how much of his skillset will translate when playing higher level men’s hockey. There isn’t an expectation of a problem, but when a player lacks that experience, it undoubtedly makes them more challenging to project. Remember, Demidov didn’t really play meaningful KHL minutes when he got 4 games this year. He got 13th forward exposure and didn’t play with the same linemates that he worked with in the pre-season. Nonetheless, he wasn’t perfect. He did see some questionable decisions while trying to adapt to higher competition. There’s little concern that this is an actual issue, but Demidov needs to grow and play against men, even for a few games, before coming to the NHL. Thankfully, he should have the entire season in 2024-2025, and I haven’t read a single scouting report that expects him to have an issue putting up Michkov+ numbers.
The second factor is skating. Demidov is a good skater, but he’s unorthodox at best. While this skating relies heavily on his edgework which gives him amazing playmaking ability, his pivoting, high end speed, position and stride could all use refinement and improvement. While these are all skating mechanics that are easier to fix, skating is NOT a guarantee. If he’s unable to improve his skating with NHL skating coaches, it could limit his upside. He is still expected to be a top line winger, but it could be the difference between 70+ and 100+ points if skating doesn’t develop. Remember, some scouts view his skating as a “hidden” upside in his game, but improving skating not only gives him more offensive flexibility, but also defensively. There’s room for improvement, and it could be an easier lever to correct to see high rewards from.
The third factor is decision making. Demidov is creative to a fault, but just like in art, not every project works out. With such an advanced toolkit, Demidov needs to work with video coaches to better understand which moveset is appropriate in which scenario and when to deploy it. There’s a difference between decision making and IQ. Decision making is hard to fix when a prospect is set in their ways based on playstyle, but if playstyle is more flexible, then there’s much less of a concern. IQ, on the other hand is uncoachable, and Demidov has arguably the best offensive IQ in the draft. There’s no reason to believe that he can’t fix this, but due to being stuck abroad, and potentially even the MHL again next year, it could take him a bit longer to get up to NHL speed.
The final factor is defense. While it seems that every single forward prospect has a knock on their defense, we can qualify Demidov’s specifics a bit more easily. Demidov is a competent defender, and a very good well rounded player, but again decision making plays a factor in the challenge of projecting him here. While players like Celebrini are dominant both ways, Demidov often doesn’t make the right choice when defending – he has a lot of offensive instincts which have him sit higher on the blue, and while he is always engaged on the puck, he needs to be more responsible in coverage rotations. Off the rush, Demidov doesn’t always read the play correctly, and the inconsistency can create shooting lanes for his opponent. Just like Michkov, he can also cheat on plays where he finds himself a bit further away from a play and loses sight of his defensive assignment. He’s extremely energetic and consistently pushes to get back, but working with him on understanding when to cheat will be important for his development as well. We again want to reemphasize that Demidov plays solid defense and a good two way game, especially for a wingecenter. But there’s room for improvement in terms of bridging the gap between him and other recent prospects like Celebrini, Carlsson, and Johnston.
Pro Projection:
While he doesn’t have the skating that Jack Hughes had, he’s still a great projection and comparable. A smaller but nimble player who isn’t afraid to get involved on the rush, around the boards, or in transition. Demidov’s offensive upside is similar as well – like Hughes, the defense isn’t the best, but he’s able to run an entire offense both on the wing and playing center. He’s creative to a fault, has a great set of hands, and the toolkit to be a consistent top 5 player at his position in the NHL. Pro projections are always hard because you can never guarantee how a player will turn out, whether they’re undrafted or a #1OA, but Demidov is truly all but a sure thing. His creativity rivals players like Nikita Kucherov and Mitch Marner in their ability to think ahead of where the play is, his handling rivals Kane and Datysuk, his defensive play is above average for a winger, he has a great shot comparable to players like Matt Tkachuk, and is a bitch to get off the puck. Even when Demidov is literally on the ground, he’s consistently able to hold possession and find a play with no room left. With a toolkit like his, decent size at an estimated 6ft, there should be no reservations that Demidov should succeed at the next level. Most scouts see his floor around 65-70 points, and his ceiling closer to 120. I stand by the Jack Hughes comp I made earlier. While they differ in skating, they play very similar games, and should expect similar success at the next level.
Quotes:
“He’s got the best hands in the draft… and has made more one-on-one skill plays so far this season than almost any prospect I’ve scouted for any draft. He’s also a pretty engaged off-puck player who keeps his feet moving, hunts pucks on the forecheck, and can turn a steal into a game-breaking play in an instant.”
Scott Wheeler, The Athletic
“Demidov is already a game-breaking forward who can move the puck effortlessly and there’s no question he’d be a fantastic partner to some of the best prospects in the NHL today. His production in the MHL is comparable to Patrick Kane’s 2006-07 season with the Ontario Hockey League’s London Knights… Demidov is a bonafide first-line winger who will score tons of goals.”
Dayton Reimer, The Hockey Writers
“In a vacuum he’s the most talented forward this draft class has to offer outside of Celebrini. Demidov possesses many of the same traits Celebrini does, only his track record is against younger, more unproven talent."
Sam Cosentino, Sportsnet
“The talent of Demidov is impossible to deny. His raw skills might be the best in terms of offense in the entire draft. His puckhandling, shot, passing, and even skating makes him a unique hockey player and prospect. There are many great offensive players, but not many quite like Demidov. Especially who will also have a great drive and motor to play a strong 200 foot game… he could easily be a point per game player in the NHL on most teams first line.”
Frederik Frandsen, Last Word on Sports
“At the end of the day, what you get in a player like Ivan Demidov is a generational offensive dynamo with the mind of a master chess player. Each time he gains possession of the biscuit, his ability to think many steps ahead of the opponent, find creative solutions involving his puck handling abilities, as well as creating tremendous execution at creating space with his skating or precisely hitting the net is considered to be up to par at the NHL level.”
Tyler Ballesteros-Willard, Draft Prospects Hockey
“Any forward that has ever had the type of equivalency we’ve seen from Demidov in his pre-draft year and draft year, going back to the ’80s, has turned into a point-per-game-plus superstar over their careers… You need stars to compete and contend in the NHL, and Demidov is almost guaranteed to be that.”
Byron Bader, Hockey Prospecting
“Demidov is the most dynamic, verstatile, and creative [puck] handler we’ve seen come through the draft in recent years. Elements of his on-puck decision-making remain raw, but his upside as a 100-point top-line winger is supported by decent off-puck and defensive engagement and lightning-quick processing of the game. His elite-level of on-puck intelligence and his trifecta of dynamic handling, playmaking, and goalscoring tools give him the foundation to become an electrifying creative force and offensive driver.”
Sebastian High, Dobber
“Demidov breaks defences. He spots a tiny gap in coverage, bursts right through, and blows it open. He plays mostly a finesse game, but does so hyper-aggressively, attacking everything he can. Demidov succeeds at pulling off plays that most prospects can't. He plans, processes, and anticipates faster than he can stickhandle. He's a pure creator with the puck, making plays out of nothing.”
David St. Louis, Elite Prospects
“Demidov is the more dynamic and flashy prospect [Than Michkov].Demidov is the single-most gifted handler in the entire 2024 class. He projects to be the superior one-on-one attacker…someone who can single-handedly create out of thin air. When it comes to passing ability…Demidov’s ability to chain together handling sequences into following passing plays is second to none.”
Lassi Alanen, Elite Prospects
“It’s a no brainer[at #2OA]. It’s Ivan Demidov all day, every day, 24/7. You run to the stage and pick him… if you ask me, Ivan Demidov is better than Matvei Michkov… He’s the only prospect in our rankings who we gave a 10 grade to for a specific ability. It’s not just the handling skill in isolation it’s the creativity. He comes up with solutions no one can expect.. his motor is underrated, puts in work defensively… it’s a no brainer there.”
Hadi Kalakeche, Locked on NHL/Dobber
Our Scouting:
Clip 1:
As we talked about prior, Demidov has a great IQ and the ability to create lanes and plays out of nothing. Demidov pushes up the ice and enters the zone with pressure closing onto the side. He uses his hands to pull in control, but more impressively, puts his body between the defender and the puck. He uses his edgework and breaking speed to push past the defender, then is patient enough to draw 3 defenders towards him, away from his teammate. When he sees the trailing defenseman waiting, he immediately finds a tight pass for a wide open teammate to capitalize.
Clip 2:
There’s a difference between a safe move, and then there’s an insane move. Watch as Demidov comes up on the left side. He sees that the defender is getting desperate and goes for a large poke. Demidov slides the puck under the Dman’s stick and once again shows off his patience. Instead of going for a quick shot he reads that the other defender is slowly coming across the crease to prevent a passing lane. Instead of just shooting like most players, Demidov baits the goalie into thinking he’s going to run into the defenseman, and in that second, puts the puck in the net.
Clip 3:
Small play, but this is just about how slick his passing is. He slides the puck through a very tight lane while baiting the defenseman into sliding due to not knowing where the play is going to be.
Clip 4:
While we can put on nonstop highlights, it’s also important to see how smart Demidov’s game is. Demidov and the other SKA players move the puck around a bit trying to find an opening until they give it to Demidov. Demidov reads an open play and passes the puck down, but instead of immediately following the puck or staying at his spot, Demidov uses his high engagement to instead move to the other side of the net down low to offer accessory support for his teammates on his anticipated cross crease pass, should there have been a rebound.
Clip 5:
Not every highlight is going to be a goal. One really underrated part of Demidov’s game is how well he’s able to read the offense. As he holds high initially, he’s able to help move the puck out in order to reset the offense when the play fails. His motor keeps him in the play and with his excellent edges, he’s able to make a quick pivot after rushing around in order to step up and create an open shooting lane. While his teammate can’t make the pass to get the puck to him, Demidov read where the play WOULD be, not just where it was. Those IQ aspects really can’t be taught, and are part of what makes him so special. By anticipating the open play rather than following the puck, he establishes himself as a play driver by creating options rather just following and executing structure at a high level.
Clip 6:
We're not even going to analyze this one. It’s just fucking fun. Talent oozes.
Clip 7:
This video has a ton of highlights, which I’d definitely recommend watching, but we’re going to focus specifically on the play at 0:45. We can post clips of Demidov scoring goals, finding breakaways, etc. all day long, but when thinking about translation to the NHL, IQ and decision making is what we’re really drying to drill down on. Demidov arrives in the zone through to middle and pushes the initial F1 to the F3 spot and changes the rotation. The puck is dumped to him and the initial F1 leaves a drop pass for Demidov approaching the goal. As soon as Demidov gets the puck, at 0:47, you can see him primed and in a good shooting position. The bigger defender misread the play and has drifted too far towards the center of the ice, leaving Demidov with a nearly unobstructed shooting lane as the netfront defenseman is also too far toward the middle. Instead of taking the shot, he instead waits to draw over the netfront defenseman, and the bigger defenseman closer towards him, leaving his teammate literally untouched across the crease. Demidov trusts his hands and ability with an extremely quick and accurate pass through the stick range of three defenders to find his teammate wide open. His decision making has been progressively improving and his ability to look off the shot to find an elite pass will translate extremely well to the next level.
Clip 8:
Another play where you can just be excited about Demidov. The puck is wrapped up around the boards and the defenseman sitting at the top of the blue just pushes the puck back into the zone without a clear target, or a player who has an explicit opening to the puck. If anything, the puck is put in the middle of all 5 Karpat skaters. Despite starting on the outside, Demidov’s engagement shines through where he uses his edgework to get a rapid explosive burst of speed, and pushes through both defenders in front of him to gain possession. Once he gains possession, his ability to control the puck, and his handles help to demonstrate just how strong of a prospect Demidov is. Even when the defender is falling onto him, Demidov is patient, makes the netfront defender bite to believe he’s going wide, creating a lane (effectively bypassing 3 separate Karpat players) to get to the goalie unobstructed. Then, his hands come out and he absolutely undresses the netminder with moves that the video literally cannot fully capture. He makes highlights like this look routine, every single game.
Clip 9:
Sometimes when you see a play it’s hard to say anything but wow. Demidov leads the rush through the neutral zone and reads the coverage a much less conventional 1-4 scheme. The offensive rush is a bit unconventional as well, but can offer a smart solution. By having 3 attackers, two concentrated up the middle and one wide, it allows for quick movement up the middle, and post defensive collapse onto the puck, a pass to the outside for a clear entry lane and shot. Demidov passes to his teammate directly across the center of the ice as he expects that teammate to immediately get puck to their teammate on the outside as coverage collapses. Demidov gauges where the openings are pre pass, as evidenced by the head movement. Unfortunately, instead of immediately passing again to the outside for an open lane, his teammate runs into pressure, and panics. He passes back to Demidov who is less than 8ft away and will inevitably will run into immediate pressure as well. Somehow, this is no problem for Demidov. He collects the puck with the literal tip of his stick, uses his body push the defender off, and then pulls the puck in while facing the wrong direction to slip past the defender. Despite being placed in a no win situation his hands and creativity shine through and he creates a clean lane to shoot the puck at the net. It’s almost inhuman what he’s able to do with his hands. When he gets to the net, he’s patient, baits the goalie, pulls wide, and then puts in a clean backhand. Some of these highlights are literally awe-inspiring.
Closing Thoughts:
If this scouting report doesn’t get you excited for Demidov, we don’t think anything will. He’s truly the most electric player in the draft with absolutely ridiculous hands, compete, dynamic play, and highlight reel performance. His IQ is next level, and his hands allow him to do truly amazing things with his skillset and competency. Demidov’s vision is absurd; he consistently makes passes to his teammates without looking, or sends a pass before a teammate has a clean break by using anticipation. These RARELY lead to a turnovers and are often not only creative but unorthodox methods to continue to move the puck up ice. Although his skating is unorthodox, he’s explosive, able to create comprehensive offensive maneuvers due to quick transitions, and make off angle passes with ease due to his edgework. He is elite in transition and able to run a breakout, an offense, and play any of the F1/F2/F3 roles when the situation calls for it. Despite his expected size of “only” 6ft 170lbs, Demidov knows how to use his body and hands. He not only protects the puck on offense but can draw defenders away from his teammates in predictable patterns, once again opening up space for him to capitalize. The same goes for defense where he's able to use his positioning to get the edge on his opponents for a rapid takeaway or a box out off the rush.
As we mentioned earlier, Demidov’s game isn’t limited only to offense, he has a decent understanding of the two way game as well. He’s a relentless forechecker, aggressive on the boards, and also always willing to use his high running motor to jump back into a play that leaves the zone, even if he’s right next to the net. Demidov has the most skill and raw talent out of any player in this draft, including Celebrini. Had Demidov not been demoted to the MHL due to SKA’s poor management, there is almost no doubt that he would be considered nearly neck and neck with Celebrini. As it is now, Demidov is ranked #2 on most boards, and the overall #2 in the consolidated ranking. Demidovs don’t come around often; people last year were genuinely considering whether Michkov was at Bedard’s level. Demidov rivals Michkov if not exceeds him.
You can nitpick the analysis we have of any one single aspect of Demidov. Not everyone buys analytics. Not everyone buys playmaking in a lower league. Not everyone likes irregular skating. Not everyone is on board with the MHL stat sheet, our hype etc. etc. We get it. Really, we do. But at the end of the day, when you step back and appreciate the full body of work, the comps, the analytics, the rave scouting reports, unanimous love, models, stat sheets, skill, work ethic, and more that ALL say that this kid is elite, there’s fire beyond the smoke. Demidov is THE guy. There should not be a debate at #2.
For those of you who made it to the end, thanks for reading! Ultimately we know there will be inevitable debate about a prospect, but we appreciate you hearing us out, and at least letting me, u/GoldWhale, spam the sub over the last few weeks in love of Demidov. Whether or not you agree with our analysis, we encourage you to do your own scouting, read from the authors we've included, watch through all the highlights in the linked videos, and draw your own conclusions!
We appreciate everyone in this community, and will try to answer any questions that you may have in the comments. If you so choose, please feel free to crosspost to other subs, edit, or utilize this writeup anywhere you like (forums/blogs/youtube etc.), just link back to our original post! For those in professional media who have contacted us with the hope of utilizing our writeup, feel free, again just link back to the original post as well. Thanks again!
submitted by GoldWhale to hawks [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 02:50 coldgirlshit Can drivers set Lyft GPS/map setting to avoid highways?

I Lyft to work twice a week, and today had a driver take a route that avoided highways and it took me an hour instead of 35 minutes.
in case anyone responds before reading the rest — I checked and there were NOT any accidents or unusual traffic. There are also two different highways to take if one had a random late night back up. The route would not even show up as an option until I changed my map settings to no highways or tolls
I was doing some work on my phone, so I didn't realize we were on a weird route until 15 minutes in. I looked up on maps and the normal route from the office should have been 33 minutes, no accidents. Even if he only had selected "avoid tolls" it would have only been 36 minutes on the highway.
I even got a check-in notification from the app saying that the ride was taking much longer than it should and asking if everything was okay. The driver said he just followed the Lyft GPS, but when I asked if there is a setting to avoid highways and tolls, he didn't know (he was older, and said it's possible his wife changed it because she doesn't like highways?).
I am genuinely upset because I specifically stay at the office until 7:30pm to avoid all of the traffic, and accept that I will just get home later for a more efficient ride home. If I wanted to spend an hour in the car I would leave at 5:00/5:30.
I don't want to give him a bad rating if it wasn't his fault, but I already get home so late and I'm really so upset I spent so much unnecessary time in the car that I could have spent with my family.
I also don't want accusations that I'm insinuating nefarious behavior by the driver — I don't even think it would affect his rate. I genuinely am just upset about my time and want to avoid this in the future.
Thank you!
submitted by coldgirlshit to Lyft [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 02:48 EclosionK2 He had no head, only a floating set of eyes

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~
submitted by EclosionK2 to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 02:48 Top_Clerk_3067 210 East trai

What is the cause of the 210 East traffic? Starting from Lake Ave and especially on Huntington Drive like people slow down there for no reason. Every day doesn't matter if it's the weekend. Traffic always there from like 1pm until like 8pm. And there aren't any accidents or road work or anything going on just traffic for no reason. What gives? And why does it last for so long? Not even freeways like the 10, 110, 5, 405 is like that. When you get to about Asuza avenue or near the 57 interchange it opens up again. I really don't get it
submitted by Top_Clerk_3067 to pasadena [link] [comments]

2024.05.16 02:45 EclosionK2 He had no head, only a floating set of eyes

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