I'm 43 years old and only just starting to transition openly now (as of a bit over a month ago). I had been floating in a gender non-binary space but life opportunities made it really clear to me I need to be a trans woman.
I lived through a lot of childhood trauma around this and it's been a scary time. I have been overwhelmed with the kind of support I've received, and although not everything has been positive, I appreciate how lucky I am to have the kind of support I have.
So the origin of this decision really was the opportunity to model. I hadn't accepted offers to model in past because I deep down hated how I looked. I realised at my age this may be my last chance so I took it up were able to give me a women's shoot. That whole experience in an instant confirmed everything I had been holding back up to that point.
I can say confidently now for the first time I truly love who I am.
(Yes, I know this photo has touch ups because it's from a modelling shoot, but I'm so damn proud).
https://preview.redd.it/yaon9pg05z0d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4646fef238e68a0c5e3dfe0fce110275d363e9f0

This is gonna be long so bear with me pls. I (f21) used to hook up with this guy (m22), I started liking him a lot, he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship. I didn’t take it personally plus I was transferring to another school abroad at the end of the year and then I’d probably never see him again.
About 3 months after i moved (so march 2023) he spontaneously booked a flight and came to visit me during spring break, he stayed with me and we were together basically the whole time, we hooked up but it was kind of an fwb situation? but throughout he kept dropping hints which I decided to ignore since I knew he wasn’t interested in being more than friends.
I do want to mention that I come from a rather well to do family and i might be a little spoilt in the sense that my family pays my tuition so I don’t have student loans and I get my rent money and some pocket money from home because my family doesn’t want me to work yet so I can focus on school more, but since I moved I have been working 2 jobs (without my family knowing) to save money because I like to live comfortably, go shopping, travel, and I’m trying to save up for my masters so I’m pretty comfortable financially, which he saw on his visit since I paid for p much everything. (Now that I think about it, I took a leave from work and didn’t have school that week so he didn’t actually see how hard I work, to him i was just chilling all day and living rich).
When he went back after his visit he kept talking ab how he has such a good time with me and how he really likes me and we started talking a lot more and I was kinda into him again. After like a month he started telling me that he wants to stop seeing other people and he dsnt want me to see other people either, still no mention of a relationship but he wanted to be exclusive. I had been on a couple dates since I moved but I wasn’t really interested in anyone so I agreed. Within a month of that (so june 2023) he started saying he loves me and for the longest time I hesitated to say it back but eventually i did. He kept saying he wants to visit me again etc but he cnt afford it. I agreed to pay bec i wanted to see him too but I thought that since I didn’t have school all month we could go on a little vacation instead of just him coming over, since I could afford it. We planned an trip for July and decided everything but before I paid for anything I asked him if he sees this ever turning into a relationship and he told me no at first but after i said if it’s not going anywhere (I was going to pay for his flights, all the stay and we would split the money we spend there) I don’t want to invest financially in it like time is one thing but i work really hard for the money, he said he just doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship now but gave me hope saying that might change as we spend time together. I was naive enough to fall for that and we went on our little vacation.
Towards the end of the vacation like 2 days before we were supposed to go back, we were at a club and I was sitting down with my drink while he was on the floor and I saw him make a snapchat call and he was on it for a while and in the middle of it his screen lit up and a girl’s (let’s call her K) bitmoji was on it, so i went up to him to ask who he was talking to, he straight up lied and told me it was one of his guy friends and i just went and sat back down. After he finished the call he came and sat next to me and held his phone in a way that he obviously wanted me to look at the screen bec he had called his guy friend now the bitmoji was on the screen, which was such a failure because his guy friend didn’t even answer the phone he just showed me the “ringing” screen. I didn’t say anything tho because we both were pretty drunk and I didn’t want to start a fight in that condition. The next was our last night there and it went well but on the way back to our hotel at the end of the night i forgot my phone in the uber and used his phone to call the uber driver to ask if there was any way i could get it back. He was almost passed put by the time the uber driver came back around to bring my phone so i asked him if i could take his phone outside while i go to bring my phone just in case I need to contact the driver, he agreed and unlocked his phone and gave it to me. When i was going, K called him and i just rejected the call but then she sent him like a million texts and my suspicion got the best of me and I opened the chat. I barely had to scroll up before I saw several explicit msgs and photos (all very recent) and it made me sick to my stomach. I got my phone back and went back to the room to find him passed out I threw his phone at him and he woke up and we talked about it basically all night, I was crying like the whole time and in the end he promised me he wouldn’t do it again and he only wants to be with me and all this other emo (and in hindsight, toxic) crap that I fell for at the time and the next day we flew back.
Things were okay for like 2 months after that. On Halloween we were both on facetime, getting ready to go to halloween parties (in our respective countries lol) and I was telling him how to do his makeup (he really likes my style and often asks me for advice on clothes, makeup, hair etc) we talked for a while it was all great and after we got ready we ended the call and I went to the party (it was like 10min from my place) and as soon as I got there I tried to send him a snap but couldn’t find him on my snapchat friend list, so i tried to text him on Instagram only to find he had blocked me, on everything.
I DID NOT handle that well. After he had been nc for a week, he called me. Of course, I couldn’t resist and answered. He asked for help with a school project (I would often help him with things like that, even tho he was in a much complex course i would learn his stuff and then help him with homework and stuff). Even tho I was not in good condition physically bec of the withdrawals and even tho he hadn’t even addressed the fact that he had blocked me on everything out of nowhere I decided to help him again because I was just so desperate to talk to him and I basically made the whole thing for him and he got a good grade, he thanked me and stuff and when i asked him why he blocked me he just said “idk i was just upset idk why” he just always refused to talk about it. But i mean social media is so accessible, i did see that he had been commenting on K’s old Instagram posts (he commented on ALL her posts actually) throughout the week, so i’m sure it had something to do with her, but I didn’t ask because he seemed irritable whenever i would bring it up.
We started talking like before again, he graduated (i’m still in school) and we planned for another vacation for new years eve. Big surprise, even tho he was the one who proposed the trip, now he was unemployed so he couldn’t afford it, again. And another big surprise, I agreed to pay for it again. It was all good except I brought about $1000 in cash to spend on the trip and every time I took money out of it he would comment about how it was such a “fat stack” which sussed me out a little but whatever. About halfway through the trip I got really drunk and passed out and when I woke up the next morning all my cash was gone and I asked him if he kept it with him and he refused and got mad at me for losing such a big amount of money (as if I wasn’t stressed enough) and how he was going to have to pay now (hotels and flights were already paid for, he’d be paying for drinks and food basically). I still don’t think he would steal from me bec if he wanted money he could just ask and I would have just given him and not even asked for it back but there’s nowhere it could’ve gone because I never took the whole cash out of the hotel room and it was just us two there. I didn’t want to accuse him of anything so i let that go and never mentioned it. But that was the first time I got sus ab him with the money.
Fast forward to two months ago, we planned another trip (to my home country this time) which was supposed to be two weeks long but while we were there we were having so much fun that we kept extending it and it ended up being a month long. I saved up hella for this trip because I knew exactly what hotels I wanted to stay at, what places i wanted to go etc and i knew it was gonna be kinda expensive but even then because we stayed much longer it also costed way more than expected. At this point he didn’t even have to tell me he couldn’t afford it, it was just understood that i would be paying since he was still unemployed. But this time he had this new credit card and wanted to increase his credit score so he asked if i could use his cards to book everything and pay HIM back instead, i was like sure whatever. So i booked both our flights on my card and hotels and stuff on his. We had the best time on this trip, felt closer to him than ever so I didn’t mind paying. We decided that I would give him a certain amount in cash (to avoid international transfer fee) and transfer the rest (because countries have a limit on how much cash u can bring without having to report to customs). Once again towards the end of the trip I saw he was still talking to that girl, and it wasn’t just sexual, he called her the same nicknames he called me, he sent her the same reels and stuff on Instagram that he sent me it was like reading his chats with me. I didn’t say anything then, but a couple hours later I asked him if we should see other people too, like keep seeing each other but also see other people (i even said “we both” so he dsnt feel the need to get defensive) and he said no he dsnt want to and he dsnt even want me to. Him lying again when i gave him a chance to end his lie really broke my heart completely (bec at this point he was just lying for the sake of it) but it was just 3 days before we were gonna leave so i decided not to ruin the rest of the trip and end things with him after I paid him back for the credit card (I’d already given him more than half the amount in cash as soon as we met). When we were booking flights to go back he insisted that be take pne with a layover in a third completely put of the way country because it was cheaper and i was like sure, but then he also said because it’s two really long flights he wants to stay in this third country for a couple days bec he wouldn’t be too exhausted and wanted me to pay for the airbnb, I already wasn’t a fan of paying for a whole solo trip for him where I wasn’t going (it was one of my bucket list countries too) so i tried to tell him to just suck it up and take a couple hour layover instead but he wouldn’t listen. AND to make it worse, i saw his phone again (I didn’t even checking his phone or anything even once on this trip, he had the conversation open while he was sitting next to me and i could see) and he was talking to this girl who was around that country and asked her if she would travel there for a couple days to meet him and she agreed at first but once he sent her an airbnb and asked what she thought about it, she left him on seen and never responded even after he offered to pay (im guessing bec initially she just thought he meant they would hang out and when he brought up staying together even she got creeped out). THIS MAN WANTED ME TO PAY FOR HIS INTERNATIONAL TRIP TO MEET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HE TOLD HE WAS PAYING FOR EVERYTHING.
That was my last straw i got so mad and we had a big conversation , highlights: (Note: this is all in a very calm tone, i was holding back tears but no one was being aggressive)
Him: she’s just a friend and I haven’t even ever slept with her or anything PLUS that’s not even happening i’m not going to see her Me: because SHE left you on seen, u were clearly trying in fact ur the one who asked her to begin with Him: sighs & shrugs
Me: what about the girl in (hometown)? Him:
Me: why did u block me after halloween Him: i cnt tell u that Me: is it because u were also lying to K, telling her u were not seeing other people n she found out u were talking to me and to keep her from leaving u blocked me till she calmed down? Him: sighs, leans back and looks away
Me: why is one girl not enough Him: bec I’m not 40 Me: so why do u lie instead of just being honest and saying ur also seeing other people Him: bec i dnt wanna hurt feelings Me: i never asked u for anything u were the one who insisted on being exclusive, u were the one who said u loved me first while u knew the whole time u were lying, u really had no reason to lie? Him: u wouldn’t treat me the same if u knew i was seeing other people Me: i was treating u the exact same before u said all that? When u came to visit me i still paid for everything, u really didn’t have reason to lie Him: sighs
Me: what do u expect me to do now? Him: idk i guess u can see other people too(?)
Me: i didn’t mind paying for u if u were seeing other people n honest about it but dnt want to pay for someone who goes out of their way to lie to me for no reason (i p much never get pissed ab anything as long as it’s honest so there’s really no reason to lie which is why i cnt stand when people lie to me) Him: i understand
Me: did u at least use protection with other people (he told me he was clean and wasn’t seeing other people so i agreed to not using protection since i was on birth control anyway) Him: yes u can get tested if u want (i did and turns out he was lying i came home with a nasty std, I haven’t slept with anyone else in about a year)
After the long conversation we went to sleep and he noticed i was still crying so he hugged me and said “i dnt want u to cry talk to me” so i started saying how idk how to feel or what to do it’s just too much to process that he would do this bec i trusted him so much even when I didn’t want to but he rolled his eyes in the middle of my sentence which ticked me off so i turned away and was like “no dont turn away” to which I said “when im not talking u have an issue, when im talking u have an issue, what do u want?” This was the first time i dropped my calm in from of him and picked up an actually annoyed tone, which seemed to set something off in his head and he just blew up at me like YELLING about how im the one making a big deal out of everything and im the one who keeps turning away and refusing to talk to him etc and then he got up from the bed and punched the wall REALLY hard so i grabbed both his hands and sat him down on the bed and told him to shut up and calm down bec he was gonna get hurt if he keeps punching shit. He already hurt his hand p bad and he just held his hand to his chest and i could tell he was trying to hold in screams bec he was so much in pain. I called room service to bring ice and went downstairs to get him a painkiller. He finally calmed down and fell asleep. The next day he didn’t talk to me for 8 hours, didn’t go out or anything, we just sat there in the hotel room in silence, whenever i tried to bring up anything he just shrugged and continued to not say a word, Finally we both got hungry and went to get dinner after which we got drinks, once we got a little buzzed he started talking to me again and told me he got triggered bec i yelled at him (I didn’t yell but i did get annoyed so i got what he meant) and i apologised.
We were fine for the rest of the day and the next day and the night after that we finally flew back home.
He asked me to transfer him the money for his credit card and i asked him how much it was. The number he gave me was ridiculously higher than the number i had on my spreadsheet (since i made the bookings i even had the receipts) so i showed him saying these were the numbers that I had and he said “no but this is what my card got charged” and he sent me his own spreadsheet that me made (v poorly made no dates or anything, there were even some amounts without descriptions) so i said ok this isn’t helpful, just send me the credit card statement and i’ll see what went wrong in my calculations and he has been making dumb excuses for the last 2 weeks every time i ask him to send the statement like “there’s other payments too on the statement so u might get confused” (as if idk how to read??) or “oh i’ll send it when i open the credit card website next” but he keeps asking me to send him the money like constantly. Another thing that’s weird to me is that he completely disregarded the part where I told him I would only be paying for my half of the trip bec of him lying to me, which I already gave him more than half in cash in the beginning of the trip. Thirdly, not only does he want me to pay full he is also disregarding the money i gave him in cash bec he “spent it on the trip so it didn’t go towards the credit card payment” which I never agreed to give him spending money, that’s supposed to be on him, I brought my own spending money separately so it wasn’t even like he had to pay for both of us.
So basically, he wants me to pay for the whole credit card bill (which he won’t send me the statement for) on top of what i gave him in cash which was more than half of the number HE is giving me (and close to 80% of the number I have) ALL AFTER he lied to me, tried to make me pay for him going to meet another girl in a different country, yelled at me, punched a wall and made ME apologise.
The amount he’s asking for is big and I know he’s unemployed and if that’s the actual number, he definitely can’t pay it. While i can afford it (just barely after everything I already paid for including previous trips, flights for this trip and the money i gave him in cash) i did already tell him I would only be paying for my half (which i already did) and he agreed at the time, and i’m still extremely hurt and angry about all the lies and the drama. If he sent me the credit card statement I would still help him a little bit but he even refuses to do that. He hasn’t talked about anything else except asking me to send him the money for the past few days. I was going to cut him off after I paid him but he’s being kind of not cool about it and it’s not like i just have the money lying around. So would I be the asshole if I just ghosted him with his credit card debt that i know he can’t pay?
Also want to add: i keep mentioning his unemployment bec until February i was helping him improve his resume, prepare for interviews etc (I’m studying HR and recruitment) but after this trip he told me he is not even looking for a job bec if he got a job he “wouldn’t be able to travel as much” which pissed me off more bec im working my ass off to afford all this.

This situation happened quite awhile ago but unfortunately it’s left quite an impact even though it’s objectively not that serious.
I had to read something for one of my classes that was essentially a historical fiction short story. It was set in 1920s Paris and one of the main characters is Max De Morny. I obviously don’t know how exactly Max would identify if they were alive today, but how they presented themselves is quite similar to many butch and gnc lesbians. For the purpose of the book they are definitely presented as being a butch lesbian.
Initially, I was excited to see some sapphic representation but that didn’t last. There’s multiple descriptions of Max being ugly and ridiculous because of how they present themselves and a whole character is created to basically say how Max’s partner would be better off if she left them for someone feminine. The worst thing was the entire class laughing at historical photos of Max when researching the historical context of the story as well as just being obviously uncomfortable reading a story with multiple sapphic characters. I love seeing historical photos of queer people and I don’t expect random cishet people to understand that. However, just bursting into laughter was certainly not a reaction I was expecting.
I'm a soft butch and was the only lesbian and gnc person in the class (luckily there was one other queer person) and I felt sick having to sit through it. I know they’re just ignorant and I absolutely don’t care about their opinions but in the moment I just wanted to disappear. I’ve literally had rocks thrown at me and I felt less upset.
Thanks to anyone who reads this. I’m not sure whether this post really has much of a purpose besides sharing my frustration with people who may be able to relate.
Edit: spelling mistake

First, I accidentally read a spoiler regarding Scribe Haylen. Is there any possible way to save her, send her to a community, have her become a companion, or possibly romance her without using mods? In my opinion she deserves more of a chance in Fallout 4.
The other is Shelly Tiller. I didn't kill her during the Silver Shroud missions, as she wasn't a bad person overall. Unfortunately, I killed Sinjin and saved Kent Connolly, thereby completing the Silver Shroud quests. I went looking for Shelly at the National Guard Training Yard to send her to a community, but she wasn't there. Did she go elsewhere, or is she gone after completing the quest line?
Lastly, but not least. Trashcan Carla. That thieving witch stole my power armor. I read that you can pickpocket the fusion core, and she'll jump out, OR she'll show up at Beacon Hill and it'll be sitting next to her, in which case you can just get it back. However, she was taunting me with it, and being her typical nasty self, and WOULD NOT leave Sanctuary. I went to Beacon Hill SEVERAL times looking for her to appear, but she didn't. Just stayed at Sanctuary during the day hours, everyday, in my power armor. My pickpocketing skills were not built up at all. I attempted anyway to try to resolve the issue. She then turned hostile in my power armor, so I really had no choice but to put her down with my Two Shot Assault Rifle right in the road of Sanctuary. I wasn't wearing any power armor myself at the time and my companion, MacCready did nothing to help, not that I needed it, but it's the point. You're companion's supposed to provide support in conflict. I also read that you can shoot the fusion core and Trashcan Carla will jump out of the power armor as well. It's too late now, she's dead in my street with her caravan brahmin walking around while she draws flies. The occasional settler on non used companion will walk by and stop at her body also. Is there a way a way to remove her??? I tried, but it says that she's too heavy because she's lying dead in my old power armor frame. At this point she's an eyesore. I also read that she is/was an Institute "snitch", so I really don't feel bad, except for not having the convenience of a trader in my settlement now.
I'm playing on the remastered quality version of Fallout 4 on PS5. Any help or answers/advice would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

It is my first year teaching and I was hired mid year to fill a vacancy at this school. This is a rough school. I came out of college equipped with an equity based mindset and ideas that of course you should be lenient with students, but the difference between what things were like at my student teaching placement and what things are like here is like night and day. There are multiple fights daily. There has been a shooting threat. A few months ago there was a stabbing. Students rarely if ever get any meaningful discipline beyond a talking to. Phone policies are non existent on a school wide level and are up to individual teachers to enforce.
As a young teacher who wasn’t able to establish routines on day 1, I was doomed from the start on phones, and I’m lucky if I have 3 kids looking and listening to me at a time. I started telling them that they wouldn’t get credit for work if they were on their phones while we work together and I guide them through answers to ensure I don’t need to repeat myself 25 separate times per kid, but someone complained and admin told me I cannot enforce this, so it’s back to being just as bad.
I teach seniors, so luckily the most violent kids in my class dropped out early, but those who stay get no discipline. For example, at the beginning of me working here there was a girl who did it all. Cut class, cursed me out, took phone calls in class, they didn’t do anything about her for 15 referrals until she threatened to attack me after school, and for that she got just one day ISS. They finally only took her out of my class when she told the whole room loudly that she doesn’t need to come to class to do work and from now on she’ll be picking up her work from me/checking schoology and doing it in another teachers room. Set a bad example of what the school represents, they said. Never mind that plenty of kids do this, she just said it aloud, so they addressed it.
We are two weeks from the end of school for seniors, one of those weeks being finals. I have extended deadlines 3 times to try and get them to succeed, but I still have around 1/4 of my kids failing. That’s like 40 kids who either don’t show up, don’t do their work, or both. For the ones who show up, I tell them in class to do their work to pass, but they do not listen. I call home to try and explain, but it either does nothing to change their work ethic, or the parents won’t pick up/have a full inbox for messages/blocked the schools numbehang up on me when I say I’m from the school.
I’ve been told that starting next week I’m going to need to answer to meetings, calls, and questions about why these kids are failing my class. This means around 40 angry parents asking why I am the reason they need summer school. All but the laziest skirt by their required math course with cheating/photo math, but they fail English because it requires a bit more work. All of my failing students are failing from a lack of work and attendance. Both are things I cannot fix for them or help them to improve without “pixie dust” (a term used by staff here to describe pretending to “find” non existent work to pass kids along.)
I’ve been told by the other seasoned senior teachers that it will be seen as my fault for not getting through to them. I’m already jumping ship and moving districts, but when I panicked about this and said that I’m scared of being screamed at and terrified of if this high failure rate will effect how I’m seen as a professional/ my ability to secure work elsewhere, I was told I’m heartless and not cut out for being an educator because I should care more about their futures than how I’m viewed, but I am genuinely scared for my livelihood. This is my first year as a teacher, and my coworkers are convincing me that because I haven’t bent over backwards to pixie dust work or call every week to non responsive families, that it is a me issue. These coworkers only have 1-2 on level courses and mostly deal with AP, honors, and ELA electives, but I have all on level regular classes full of unmotivated kids, some of which I have not seen in months.
I’m burnt out. Last night I had a panic attack where I couldn’t breathe and could not stop throwing up and crying. I don’t know what else I can even do. There are no consequences for them, but there will be for me. I don’t know if this is normal. I don’t know if teaching is for me if this is how it’s supposed to be. I’m so scared.

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Chapter 21: Reborn
Gribble sitting alongside his grandfather, Gorp, at a serene lake nestled in the heart of a lush forest. The gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the melodic chirping of birds create a peaceful atmosphere. Gribble's small, green hands grip a fishing rod, his eyes fixed on the unmoving line, frustration etched across his youthful face as time passes without a single catch. The sun's warm rays dance upon the lake's surface, casting a golden glow on the tranquil scene, yet Gribble remains oblivious to the beauty surrounding him, consumed by his growing impatience.
Gorp, a wise and patient goblin with a wrinkled face and kind, knowing eyes, notices his grandson's mounting frustration and offers a reassuring smile. With a gentle touch, Gorp places his weathered hand on Gribble's shoulder, his presence alone seeming to calm the young goblin's restless spirit. In a voice filled with wisdom and understanding, Gorp imparts a profound piece of advice that will forever shape Gribble's perspective: "Patience, my dear Gribble, is the bridge to success; when coupled with an unwavering belief in oneself, it becomes an unstoppable force, capable of overcoming even the most daunting of challenges."
As these words resonate deep within Gribble's mind, the peaceful scene begins to fade, the colors blurring and the sounds growing distant. The harsh reality of the present situation comes crashing back, and Gribble finds himself torn from the comforting memory, thrust once more into the dangerous reality of the cave and the looming threat of the Thundercat
Gribble lies on the cold, hard ground of the cave, his small body battered and bruised from the Thundercat's relentless assault. The air is thick with the scent of blood and the tang of fear, as Gribble struggles to catch his breath, each inhalation sending shockwaves of pain through his weakened frame. The Thundercat looms over him, its massive form casting a sinister shadow across the cavern floor, its electric blue fur crackling with barely contained energy. The creature's eyes gleam with a predatory hunger, its gaze fixed upon the helpless goblin, as if savoring the moment before delivering the final, fatal blow.
Gribble's heart races, his pulse pounding in his ears like a frantic drum, as he stares into the face of death itself. The Thundercat's hot breath washes over him, carrying with it the stench of primal ferocity and unbridled power. Gribble's own breath comes in short, desperate gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in the damp, musty air of the cave. The cold tendrils of fear wrap around his soul, threatening to suffocate him with their icy grip, as he confronts the terrifying realization that his life hangs in the balance, dependent upon the whims of the savage creature that towers above him.
In this moment of absolute horror, Gribble's mind races, desperately searching for a way out, for some glimmer of hope amidst the overwhelming darkness. He knows that he must act quickly, that hesitation will surely spell his doom, but his body feels leaden, weighed down by the burden of his injuries and the paralyzing fear that grips his heart.
In a last-ditch effort to save himself from the Thundercat's impending attack, Gribble musters the remnants of his strength, drawing upon the very last reserves of his power. He calls out to the earth, seeking to summon the dormant life that lies beneath the cave floor, hoping against hope that his earth vine powers will answer his desperate plea. Gribble's mind races as he focuses all of his energy on this single, crucial task, his brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes squeezed shut as he wills the vines to burst forth from the unyielding ground.
The thick green vine is sluggish in its movements, its progress hindered by the unnatural environment of the cave, but still, it inches forward, guided by Gribble's unwavering determination.
Gribble's heart leaps with a sudden surge of hope as he watches the vine snake its way towards the Thundercat, a small, defiant spark igniting within his chest. He knows that this is his only chance, that the success of his plan hinges upon the strength and speed of the vine, and he pours every last ounce of his will into the endeavor. The vine quivers and strains, as if struggling against an invisible barrier, but Gribble refuses to yield, his mind locked in a silent battle of wills with the very earth itself.
As Gribble watches the vine's sluggish progress, a sudden flash of inspiration illuminates his mind, and a daring plan takes shape. With renewed focus and determination, he directs the vine's growth, shaping and molding it with his earth magic, willing it to take on a new, more deadly form. Slowly, the tender green tendril begins to elongate and narrow, its tip sharpening into a wicked point, until it resembles a crude but effective spear, poised to strike at the heart of the Thundercat.
Gribble's eyes narrow as he concentrates on the newly-formed vine spear, his body trembling with the effort of maintaining his mental grip on the volatile plant matter. The spear quivers in the air, its tip aimed squarely at the Thundercat's broad, muscular chest, as if seeking out the creature's vital organs with a hunter's precision. Gribble's breathing grows shallow and rapid, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he prepares to unleash the improvised weapon, knowing that this single strike may well determine the outcome of the battle, and perhaps, the very course of his life.
With a final, desperate surge of energy, Gribble thrusts his hand forward, his fingers splayed wide as he channels every last ounce of his power into the vine spear. Time seems to slow to a crawl as Gribble watches the spear's progress, his heart in his throat, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear, as he silently prays for the success of his gambit
The vine spear’s sharpened tip finding its mark with a sickening thud as it pierces the Thundercat's muscular chest. The creature lets out a deafening roar of pain and surprise, its voice reverberating through the cave like a clap of thunder, as it staggers backward, its electric blue fur standing on end. The Thundercat's eyes widen in shock and disbelief, its gaze fixed upon the slender green tendril that protrudes from its body, as if struggling to comprehend the reality of its own vulnerability.
Gribble watches in stunned amazement as the mighty Thundercat, the very embodiment of primal power and ferocity, begins to falter, its movements growing sluggish and uncoordinated. The creature's massive frame shudders and convulses, its muscles rippling beneath its fur as it fights to remove the vine. The Thundercat's breaths come in short, ragged gasps, its eyes growing dim and unfocused as the life slowly drains from its body, until at last, it collapses to the ground, a final, shuddering sigh escaping its lips.
The cave falls silent, the only sound the steady patter of the rain outside and Gribble's own labored breathing, as he struggles to come to terms with the magnitude of his victory. He stares at the Thundercat's lifeless form, scarcely daring to believe that he, a small, unassuming goblin, could have felled such a formidable beast. A mixture of relief and exhaustion washes over Gribble, his limbs trembling with the aftershocks of the intense battle, as he slowly begins to process the implications of his triumph.
Gribble crawls towards the fallen Thundercat, his movements slow and painful, each breath sending a fresh wave of agony through his battered body. As he nears the creature's lifeless form, an inexplicable urge takes hold of him, a primal desire that he can neither explain nor resist. Before he can question the impulse, Gribble finds himself drawn to the Thundercat's still-warm chest, his hands moving of their own accord as they seek out the beast's most vital organ.
With trembling fingers, Gribble carefully parts the Thundercat's thick fur, revealing the smooth, blue skin beneath. He hesitates for a moment, his mind reeling at the thought of what he is about to do, but the compulsion proves too strong to ignore. With a deep breath and a quick, decisive movement, Gribble plunges his hand into the Thundercat's chest, his fingers closing around the creature's still-beating heart. The organ pulses in his grasp, its rhythm slowing as he carefully extracts it from the Thundercat's body, a faint crackle of residual electricity dancing across its surface.
Gribble brings the heart to his lips, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation, as he contemplates the enormity of the act he is about to commit. The coppery scent of blood fills his nostrils, mingling with the damp, earthy smell of the cave, as he parts his lips and takes a tentative bite of the Thundercat's essence. The taste is overwhelming, a flood of rich, primal flavors that dance upon his tongue, setting his senses alight with a rush of power and vitality unlike anything he has ever experienced. The world narrows to a single, focus point, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what awestriking abilities Gribble will gain from this bold act of consumption.
As Gribble swallows the last morsel of the Thundercat's heart, an electrifying surge of power courses through his veins, setting every nerve ending alight with a tingling, almost painful sensation. The goblin's small frame begins to tremble and convulse, his muscles twitching and spasming as the creature's essence merges with his own life force. Gribble gasps as he feels his body start to change, subtle shifts taking place throughout his musculature and skeleton that quickly escalate into all-consuming physical transformations as the potent powers from the heart take hold.
Gribble's once small, wiry muscles begin to bulge and swell, expanding with newfound strength and vitality, as if the Thundercat's raw power is being transmuted directly into his own cells and sinews. His scrawny limbs thicken and lengthen, the sudden growth of his body accompanied by shooting pains and cramps, as he undergoes an accelerated metamorphosis. The goblin's stature increases rapidly, his height multiplying at an astonishing rate, until he towers over his former self, a new, imposing figure of raw power and potential.
But the changes do not stop with his musculature alone. Gribble's senses sharpen to a degree he would never have thought possible, his eyes able to penetrate the thick darkness of the cave without hindrance, every detail of his surroundings now clear and sharp as if bathed in the bright light of day. The goblin's ears twitch and thrum with a newfound sensitivity, able to pick up the tiniest sounds and vibrations from the depths of the cave. Most astonishing of all, sparks of brilliant blue electricity emerge through the hairs on Gribble's arms, dancing and pulsing with a life force that both fascinates and terrifies him. He has been reborn, a product of the powers that now surge within, his body and mind irrevocably altered by the essence of the Thundercat.
As the initial shock of the transformation begins to subside, Gribble becomes aware of a soothing warmth spreading throughout his body, a sensation that stands in stark contrast to the pain and exhaustion that had plagued him mere moments before. The goblin looks down at his battered and bruised form, his eyes widening in astonishment as he watches the myriad wounds and gashes that mar his skin begin to knit together before his very eyes, the flesh mending itself at an impossible rate.
Deep lacerations seal shut, leaving behind only faint, silvery scars that quickly fade into nothingness, as if erased by an unseen hand. Ugly purple bruises that had blossomed across Gribble's body, testaments to the savage beating he had endured at the claws and fangs of the Thundercat, now rapidly diminish in size and color, until they vanish entirely, leaving his skin unmarked and pristine. Even the bone-deep aches and pains that had settled into Gribble's joints and muscles dissipate, replaced by a newfound sense of strength and vitality that courses through his veins like liquid fire.
As the healing process nears its completion, Gribble slowly rises to his feet, marveling at the ease with which he can now move, his body no longer weighed down by the burdens of injury and fatigue. He flexes his fingers experimentally, feeling the raw power that thrums just beneath the surface of his skin, a barely contained energy that whispers tantalizing of limitless potential. A sense of invincibility washes over the goblin, the knowledge that he has not only survived the brutal encounter with the Thundercat but emerged stronger and more powerful than ever before. Gribble's gaze hardens with a newfound sense of purpose, steadied by the certainty that he can now overcome any obstacle that dares to stand in his path.
Even as Gribble revels in the rush of power and the exhilaration of his miraculous recovery, a faint shadow begins to creep across the edges of his consciousness, an unsettling presence that lurks just beyond the reach of his newfound senses. It is a darkness that seems to emanate from deep within his own being, a nebulous entity that tugs at the corner of his thoughts, whispering of hidden costs and unspoken dangers.
The goblin tries to shake off the growing sense of unease, pushing the troubling thoughts aside as he focuses instead on the incredible changes that have taken place within his body, marveling at the raw strength and vitality that now course through his veins. Yet, even as he seeks to bask in the glow of his transformation, the darkness persists, hovering at the edge of his awareness like a silent, watchful specter.
As Gribble moves through the cave, his steps imbued with newfound purpose and power, he cannot escape the nagging feeling that something fundamental has shifted within him, a subtle alteration that goes beyond the physical changes he has undergone. It is as if the essence of the Thundercat, now intertwined with his own lifeforce, has brought with it a touch of something primal and untamed, a wildness that threatens to consume him from within. The goblin's heart begins to race, a sense of trepidation rising in his chest as he ponders the implications of this strange, unsettling presence, wondering what price he may ultimately pay for the powers he has so eagerly embraced.
Driven by an instinctive need to escape the confines of the cave and the lingering presence of the fallen Thundercat, Gribble makes his way towards the entrance, his steps steady and purposeful, imbued with a newfound sense of strength and determination. As he nears the mouth of the cave, the sound of the pouring rain grows louder, the steady patter of droplets against stone echoing through the cavernous space like a ghostly drumbeat.
Gribble steps out into the downpour, his body immediately assaulted by the cold, stinging droplets that fall from the sky in an unrelenting torrent. The water sluices over his skin, running in rivulets through his hair and down his face, yet the goblin barely registers the sensation, his body thrumming with the power of the Thundercat, the electricity that courses through his veins keeping him warm and insulated against the chill of the rain.
He tilts his face upwards, his eyes closed as he allows the water to wash over him, a silent, almost meditative gesture that speaks of a desperate need for cleansing and renewal. The rain beats down upon Gribble's body, as if seeking to purge him of the darkness that has taken root within his soul, to wash away the lingering traces of the Thundercat's essence that now mingle with his own. Yet, even as the water pours over him in an unending stream, the goblin knows that some stains are too deep to be cleansed by mere rain alone, that the changes that have been wrought within him are irrevocable and permanent.
As Gribble stands there in the pouring rain, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in a nearby puddle, the image distorted and rippling with each falling droplet. The face that stares back at him is at once familiar and utterly alien, a strange amalgamation of the goblin he once was and the creature he has become. Gone is the scrawny, unassuming figure that had entered the cave, replaced now by a being of raw power and untamed potential.
Gribble's once wiry frame is now corded with muscle, his body honed and sculpted by the Thundercat's essence, every sinew and fiber imbued with a strength that defies belief. His eyes, once a dull, unremarkable shade, now glint with a predatory intensity, the pupils narrowed to vertical slits that seem to pierce the very darkness itself. The goblin's skin, too, has undergone a transformation, the surface now alive with tiny bolts of blue electricity that dance and crackle with each movement, a testament to the power that flows through his veins.
As he stares at his altered reflection, Gribble is struck by the realization that he is no longer the same goblin he was before, that the experiences he has undergone and the powers he has absorbed have changed him in ways that go far beyond the physical. He senses a new hardness within himself, a steely resolve that was absent before, tempered by the trials he has faced and the darkness he has embraced. The goblin knows that he has crossed a threshold, stepped into a realm of power and potential that few of his kind have ever dared to tread, and that there can be no turning back from the path he has chosen.
As the initial rush of adrenaline and euphoria begins to fade, Gribble is struck by a profound and unsettling realization, a truth that settles over him like a leaden weight upon his soul. The powers he now possesses, the incredible abilities granted to him by the consumption of the Thundercat's heart, have come at a terrible cost, a price that he is only now beginning to comprehend.
Gribble senses that a part of himself has been lost, consumed by the very darkness that now resides within him, a fundamental piece of his being that has been forever altered by the merging of his essence with that of the Thundercat. It is as if a shadow has fallen over his spirit, a veil of darkness that threatens to engulf the very core of his identity, to erode the values and beliefs that once defined him.
The goblin's mind reels as he ponders the implications of this realization, the knowledge that he has willingly embraced a power that may ultimately consume him, body and soul. He wonders what challenges lie ahead, what trials he will face as he navigates this new and uncharted realm of existence, and whether the strength he has gained will be enough to see him through the darkness that surely awaits.
As Gribble stands there in the pouring rain, his body thrumming with power, his mind haunted by the specter of an uncertain future, he knows that he has set foot upon a path from which there can be no retreat. The goblin steels himself, his jaw set with grim determination, as he prepares to embark upon a journey that will test the very limits of his newfound abilities, and perhaps, the very essence of his being. With a final, lingering glance at the cave that has borne witness to his transformation, Gribble turns his face to the storm and steps forward into the unknown, ready to embrace the challenges and dangers that lie ahead.

Borrowed.....
"Rules Of The Blues" by Memphis Earlene

1. Most Blues begin, "Woke up this morning..."
   
2. "I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line like, "I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."
   
3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes... sort of: "Got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Yes, I got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher, and she weigh 500 pound."
   
4. The Blues is not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in a ditch--ain't no way out.
   
5. Blues cars: Chevys, Fords, Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or Sport Utility Vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Jet aircraft and company motor pools ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.
   
6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues. They ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, "adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.
   
7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or any place in Canada. Hard times in Minneapolis or Seattle is probably just clinical depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City are still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the blues in any place that don't get rain.
   
8. A man with male pattern baldness ain't the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg cause you were skiing is not the blues. Breaking your leg 'cause a alligator be chompin' on it is.
   
9. You can't have no Blues in a office or a shopping mall. The lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.
   
10. Good places for the Blues: a. Highway b. Jailhouse c. An empty bed d. Bottom of a whiskey glass
    
11. Bad places for the Blues: a. Nordstrom's b. Gallery openings c. Ivy league institutions d. Golf courses
    
12. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be a old ethnic person, and you slept in it.
    
13. You have the right to sing the Blues if: a. You older than dirt b. You blind c. You shot a man in Memphis d. You can't be satisfied
    
14. You don't have the right to sing the Blues if: a. You have all your teeth b. You were once blind but now can see c. The man in Memphis lived d. You have a pension fund
    
15. Blues is not a matter of color. It's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Sonny Liston could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues.
    
16. If you ask for water and your darlin' give you gasoline, it's the Blues
    
17. Other acceptable Blues beverages are: a. Cheap wine b. Whiskey or bourbon c. Muddy water d. Nasty black coffee
    
18. The following are NOT Blues beverages: a. Perrier b. Chardonnay c. Snapple d. Slim Fast
    
19. If death occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse and dying lonely on a broke-down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or while getting liposuction.
    
20. Some Blues names for women: a. Sadie b. Big Mama c. Bessie d. Fat River Dumpling
    
21. Some Blues names for men: a. Joe b. Willie c. Little Willie d. Big Willie
    
22. Persons with names like Michelle, Amber, Debbie, and Heather can't sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.
    
23. Make your own Blues name Starter Kit: a. name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.) b. first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Melon, Kiwi, etc.) c. last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.) For example: Blind Lime Jefferson, Jackleg Lemon Johnson or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")
    
24. I don't care how tragic your life: if you own even one computer, you cannot sing the blues.
    

Located in CA
I took my 9 yr old lab Ivy to the vet for an emergency visit in the beginning of March. Our regular vet couldn’t take her so we had to go to the 24/7 animal hospital. They are excellent and I was willing to pay for whatever they needed to do to help ivy.
She had been very obviously sick and in pain, puking, diarrhea, not wanting to eat. They did an ultrasound, blood panel, urinalysis, fluids, meds. They found elevated liver enzymes and ketones in her urine. She was so sick they wanted to hospitalize her overnight. I asked what they would be doing and they said monitoring. I asked if I could just monitor her myself at home and bring her back right away if she gets worse? They gave me a couple prescriptions and sent us home. -$1729
I didn’t realize until the next day they didn’t give us any pain meds or anything to help Ivy’s eating (I’d tried seriously all the bland diet options, she didn’t want any of it) I went back to get her pain meds and prescription food, and the girl says they forgot to charge me for something else so she added that on too. -$150
Ivy was getting better slowly but still not her normal happy self at all. Sad, droopy eyes, wanting to sit curled up in my lap like a baby 😭 I kept doing everything they said and I took her back about a month later to check her levels again. We saw the vet, then went back out to the busy lobby to wait until someone came out to tell me the results or medications or whatever. So I sat in the lobby and waited, I asked a few times for updates bc I needed to get back to work. After 3 hours I asked if they could check and see what was going on.
There was another dog named Ivy there that morning and the receptionist closed out MY Ivy’s account (and charged the other lady’s card -$566 of my charges). I was annoyed and paid my bill (non-itemized invoice bc she couldn’t find mine) and Ivy and I went straight to work. Ivy is my service dog and sleeps under my desk.
They said the liver enzymes and urine ketone levels were both back to a normal level which was great news. They still couldn’t really give me a clear answer as to what could’ve caused all of this, sometimes they eat things, or just get sick, whatever. She said a slow recovery was normal bc livepancreas stuff is unpredictable, painful, and can take a while to heal.
The hospital’s office called me the next day to apologize for making me wait so long and reimbursed $316 (the liver panel, I think, I don’t have an itemized invoice). They offered this without me asking which I really appreciated.
Ivy has still been sick, but definitely better than when I first took her in. She was still acting sad, no interest in her favorite things. I knew she was in pain and brought her to a different vet last week.
Dr.S had been Ivy’s vet most of her life at our regular vet’s office - we love him. He left and started his own practice,and I just found his new location is 15 minutes away from my house!! It was kind of secretive when he left the other place, I think out of respect for the owners and not take half the clients with him. Anyway, I was really happy to find him again, I fully trust him. He was Ivy’s vet at her 8-week old visit, did her spay, all of it. Ivy is scared of men she doesn’t know and she loves Dr. S.
He took a look in her mouth and was like Whoa! Found it! He saw one badly rotten and cracked tooth in the back and wanted to get scheduled for removal right away. I bought the senior wellness plan for -$998. I was quoted $1200-1600 for surgery. (He was also going to remove a large benign mass from her side since she’d be under anesthesia already, I’d been wanting to do this for a few years so this is something I wanted him to do also)
This Tuesday was surgery day. He ended up removing 3 teeth, a molar on each side, and a front tooth that was cracked and broken off (I knew about this, I’d been told it wasn’t anything to be concerned about).
He said one of the molars and the front tooth both had exposed roots, the back one had an abscess and the root was touching the bone. He asked if I wanted the pictures bc it was really interesting and you don’t usually see it so advanced 😞 He said this is definitely what has been hurting her and making it hard to eat. He said they must have not looked in Ivy's mouth at all if they didn’t notice it- twice??
He didn’t have enough time to remove the mass. He said he wasn’t comfortable keeping her under any longer due to her age and blood pressure levels. Unless it grows rapidly we’re leaving it for now.
-$350 for everything this day, including surgery time & anesthesia, full dental cleaning & sealant,office visit, sedated nail trim, medications, canned soft food, heart worm testing, some other stuff included with the senior wellness package.
It’s been two days since she got her teeth out and she’s already smiling again. She was jumping around and trying to play with her brother (cat) and she only does that when she’s really excited!! Ivy is the best dog I could ever ask for. Seeing her in pain has been so hard, because I couldn’t help her!! I was trying everything but it wasn’t working. I’m so glad we found it and I think she will be able to get better now. I wasn’t so sure for awhile there.
I called the hospital place and told them what I found out and asked what happened. How could they have missed this- TWICE? The girl was really nice and agreed this was a “very valid concern” and asked me to explain everything to her and she would talk to the medical director, try to get some answers for me, and get back to me. She asked what I wanted the resolution to be. I said I thought it would be appropriate to ask for all of my charges to be refunded in relation to this event over the past couple months including Dr. S’s charges.
She called me back when I was at dinner so I missed her call.
Is this right? I don’t know what I’m looking for, feedback, reassurance, guidance? This is malpractice, right??
I talked to Dr.S’s receptionist today, she’s going to send me the photos and a breakdown of charges between the wellness plan and what I had done, try to make sense of what would be appropriate to ask them to refund. I kinda also want to ask them for $200 flat to reimburse the food/groceries spent trying to get her to eat, literally anything I could try on her bland diet, I tried! I don’t have receipts but I know I spent a shit ton of money as Ivy’s short order cook the last couple months. (Today she scarfed down her regular food for the first time in forever, I cried). Is this pushing it too far? Should I just take whatever they offer me?
What about the fact Ivy spent 2 1/2 months in pain & suffering from the time I brought her in to the day Dr. S did her surgery? She has lost weight, and has been pretty obviously miserable the whole time.
Thanks for reading.

First/Previous
The travel took on a less gloomy quality in the day that passed since Gemma’s self-reflection and although there remained a queer distance in her eyes, she seemed in better spirits in losing the weight of the words.
It was a night just beyond Wabash Crevasse that we pushed on till sunset was almost upon us and we were each tired and the food stocks ran low and so we found harbor in a half collapsed cellar where a home once stood; it was only after examining the slatted, rotted boards of the old place, fallen over, tired with decay, that we spied the cellar doors intact; sheets of door metal plied us with safety from the outside world and the interior of the place stank of mold and the deeper recesses were collapsed, but there was a cradle to crossbar the stair hatch and I put my prybar there for the night. We finished the water and canned tomatoes, and I smoked a cigarette, staving off the inevitable doom which would come with the dwindling of our supplies.
I’d peeked through the space where the doors met at the cellar’s entry and watched the full darkness there while the youngins spoke of life and the trivial pursuits of it and I hardly said a word besides.
Sitting on the lowest step with Trouble dumbly maintaining her station by me, by the low glow of the space in the threshold, I saw they’d pushed their bedrolls together and Andrew had fallen asleep with his arm over Gemma’s shoulder and her eyes glowed with shine from the crack, blinked a few times while seeing me; she too eventually drifted to sleep, and I spent time by the secured door.
Gunshots rang across the stillness, and they stirred from their quiet slumber and Gemma asked, “Harlan, is it alright?”
I moved to the space there at the doorway again and listened and watched what I could through that crack and nothing beyond came. “It’s safe. I’ll be up a bit longer. I’ll watch.”
Andrew asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“I’ll sleep in a bit. Don’t worry about me. Rest. Sleep good and we can put more behind us.
They sat up, legs crossed triangle-wise, and Gemma spoke again, “Why do you have such a hard time sleeping? It seems I’m asleep after you and only awake after you too.”
“Yeah,” said Andrew.
“It’s cool at night. I can listen to the wind.” I shrugged.
“You should be the one that tries to get some sleep,” said Andrew.
I said nothing.
They reached out their arms and I shook my head.
“Here,” Gemma said, “Move your bedroll closer.” She reached across the dirt floor of the cellar and dragged my splayed roll so that it sat beside hers.
“I’ll sleep later.” I turned my attention back to the door and ignored them till their sounds of sleep could be heard. The Alukah was nowhere and did not tap on the door that night and when I moved to sleep, I shimmied onto the roll beside them, facing away on my shoulder; the dog followed, laid on the bare dirt beside me and I held the mutt.
Though I refused a noise as they stirred in the absolute darkness, I felt Gemma’s arm fall over my own shoulder and felt Andrew’s hand touch my back, and water traced the bridge of my nose and I slept deeply thereafter.
There was no breakfast without food, and the water was gone; I felt the eyes of the dog on us as we packed up our belongings that next morning and I tried not to imagine the poor animal skinned over fire. I smiled at Trouble, patted its head, scratched its chin; she sniffed my hand like she was looking for something that wouldn’t be found.
We went west again, ignoring roads and pushed through straight wasteland where nothing was and no one was, and with every dry footfall on the dry hard ground, I wished for rain, and I wished that when it had rained, as infrequent as it was, that I had been wise enough to save what we could from the sky; that sky was red and swollen and refused to burst. We pushed on through strange dead thickets where grayed and twisty yellow branches lurched from the ground into the sky like even they too wished for an end to all the suffering. It was days more till we would see Alexandria and though I could stave off hunger (thirst too, if necessary), I was not so certain that the children would be able to push on without it; they did not complain and watched the ground in our march and maintained higher spirits than I could’ve imagined from them.
Early in the day, they spoke often, and I listened and as they wore on, their words came less and even the dog seemed in a lower mood for the unsaid predicament; me too.
Gemma broke the silence on the matter by saying, “What are we going to do about food? Water?”
“We’ll push on.”
“We could turn back?” asked Andrew.
“The more time we spend out in the open, outside of a city, the more likely it is that the Alukah will catch us unawares. Tighten your belts.” Our feet took us around a dilapidated truck, an old thing with a rusty hook which dangled off a rear arm. “Save your urine.”
They made faces but did not protest.
“Does that work? You ever drink pee?” asked Andrew.
I laughed, “I thought we’d be there by now. I took us too long by trying to drop the scent of the Alukah. That thing’s hunted us for days—last night was the first time it ain’t bothered us. It’s got me wondering why.”
Gemma piped up, licking her dry lips before speaking, “Do you think that monster ran into those scavengers we saw?” Then I caught her shooting a look at Andrew, “At least we warned them.” Her smile was faint and almost indiscernible as one.
I shrugged. “Can’t say. Don’t think it’s smart to turn back. Won’t be long and we’ll touch the 40 and then it’ll be a straight on to Babylon—couple of days—can’t turn back though. Maybe without food; that’s doable. Water’s the worst, but if it comes to it,” I paused and looked on the weathered faces of the children, on the lowered head of Trouble which followed her nose across the ground (it searched just short of frantic), “Like I said, ‘save your urine’.”
The first pains of hunger held within me brought up some reminiscence and I wished for nothing more than to hold Suzanne; I could nearly smell them and in the swaying walk which took us on past toppled townships, I held long blinks where I could nearly make out their face and if I really pushed the limits of my imagination, I could feel them. In those moments, as we passed dead places, rotted pits of despair, I could think of little more than their presence. Though I knew it was a dangerous game, hoping for more than I was worth, I hoped for Suzanne then and I wished that I’d taken them up on their offer to travel to Alexandria with them; it could’ve been home—it never was in all the times I’d gone there, but who knows? The thoughts of Babylon brought forth their gardens; the wild gardens and the water which flowed freely through their pipes. I wished I was a different person entirely and that too would’ve been better for Suzanne; how it was that they’d seen anything in me, I don’t know. How it was that they could stoop to the level of being with someone like me—I warded off that thought, because to place the blame there would certainly be unfair. I thought of my love plainly and wanted a different life more suited to them.
Imaginations played more furiously, and I remembered the evening when Dave stopped me from leaping from that roof—it’s doubtful that he even realized that he’d slowed my demise; perhaps he did know—I wished then that I could ask him. Too kind for the world. People too kind for the world were scarce and hardly worth the trouble. Yet, there I was, chaperoning those two across the wastes.
Gemma was a broken person when I’d found her, tortured in Baphomet’s well; Andrew was a dullard boy who’d lost his hand. What a silly predicament.
I stopped in my movements and swiveled on my heel to catch Andrew by the shoulder. “You still got your hand, don’t you?”
In good humor, the boy grinned, lifted the nub on the end of his left forearm to show me, “Nope.”
“Dammit, no! The hand in the jar!”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “In my pack.”
“Stop,” I commanded Trouble; the dog hardly recognized my words and continued a way then circled back, sad eyes looking up from where she took to sit by my side. Gemma, both arms dangling loosely from her own pack’s shoulder straps, took into the circle we’d formed.
The girl asked, “What about the jar? It’s nasty, but I guess it’s his.”
“I think that’s it,” I said. I took Andrew by his shoulders, looked him in his eyes, “We could use it!”
“What?” The boy almost laughed in the display of our concern. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I think I’ve got it! It’s good for a trap.” I shook him; maybe too hard. I almost smiled. “It’s worth a shot!”
“It’s mine.” He bit his top lip, withdrew from me.
“You’ll feel differently about that,” I said.
Gemma placed a hand on Andrew’s pack and tried ripping it open. “Give it to him!” shouted the girl.
The boy whipped from her grasp, and he spun on his feet, and panic stood on his face. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”
I took a step forward, “No, not anymore.” I put out my palm, “Give it.”
Andrew nearly flinched at the thought of it and shook his head a little. “Why?”
“I told you why,” I said.
“You don’t even know if it’ll work, do you?” his words were long in protest.
The girl started again, “Andrew, please.”
He locked eyes with Gemma and once again, his bottom teeth came up to meet over his top lip and he moved his jaw methodically with contemplation.
“What does it even matter?” she asked.
“It’s mine. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“C’mon,” he said, but his pack straps fell from his shoulders, and he hunkered down on the ground and opened his bag; his right hand plunged into the recesses therein and withdrew the jar with his severed left hand. He held the object up, refusing to come up from his open pack, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Take it then.” He shook the jar; its contents sloshed with liquid decay.
I grabbed the thing, held it to skylight; the remains within had congealed and rotted and lumps nearly floated in the brownish liquid which had formed in the base of the container. I shook it and stared for a moment at the miniscule debris which floated alongside the hand; each of its digits had swollen and erupted to expose bone; some had come away in pieces. “Tomorrow,” I said and nodded.
We gathered ourselves and Andrew pulled his pack on again and we moved, Trouble still looked sorry and the boy remained quiet while the girl chattered on with questions while we took through the dying ground in a formation with the dog on point then me then the children.
“What will you do with it?” she asked me.
“Not sure yet.”
Andrew made a noise like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
“You think it will work?” asked Gemma.
“Nothing’s a guarantee. They’re smart—Alukah.”
“Smart enough to figure out a trap?”
I shrugged. “We’ll find out.”
“We could put stakes in a pit.”
“Keep on the lookout for a building. Something with multiple floors.”
With that, we moved on, found a worn, mostly destroyed road and we fell into a travelling quiet and the thought of hunger or thirst arose again, and I pushed it down—though I knew the uneasiness could only last so long before savagery would overtake the human condition; the kids seemed strong enough, but I kept an eye on the dog too. Savagery belonged not only to humans, after all.
The ground of the wastes was harder when it was quiet, and it was flatter further west. The sky—red and full of thin and transparent drifting clouds—seemed an awful sight when stared at for too long; it was the thing which stretched as if to signal there wasn’t an end in any direction, as if to declare we had much more to go till safety. Wanderlust is a thing that I believe I’ve felt before, but under that sky, with those two and the dog, I didn’t feel it at all. It was doom that I felt. Ignorance and doom. And it was all because I was certain I’d made all the wrong mistakes, and it was coming back to me. I was experienced. We should’ve had food and water. Perhaps there was some deep and nasty part inside of me that had intended to sacrifice them along the way. The words of the Alukah might have rung true: You say you make no deals, but I smell it. I think you’d deal.
Surely, I felt differently. Surely.
“Getting darker,” called Andrew as we came to where signposts—worn and bent and barely legible—told us of a place once called Annapolis and the buildings were nearly gone entirely; places, maybe places that were once homes, were leveled—I was briefly caught in imagining what it might’ve been like all those ages ago. As are most places, it was haunted like that and when we came to a long rectangular structure of metal walls—thin walls—we took it as a place for rest for the night.
It once served as an agricultural station, for when we breached its entry, there were a line of dead machines—three in all—cultivators or tillers which stood higher than any of our heads and Gemma asked what they were, and I told her I thought they were for farming. The great rusted bodies stood in quiet shadow as we came through a side passage of the building and the great doors which had once been used to release those machines from the building stood frozen in their frame. I approached the doors, lighting my lantern and motioning for the children to shut the door we’d entered through.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed the doors would roll into the ceiling and the chains which held the doors in place were each secured with rusted padlocks—I removed my prybar from my pack and moved along the wall of doors, giving each old lock a smack with the weapon; each one held in place, seemingly fused there through years of corrosion, and I rounded the cultivators once more, back to the children, near the side door where they’d discovered a rickety stair frame which crawled up the side of the wall to a catwalk; along the catwalk, a levitated box stood at the height of the structure, stilted by metal legs, and we took the stairs slowly with the dog following close behind; the poor mutt was mute save the sound of its own shuffling paws.
The metal stairs creaked under our weight and Gemma held her own lantern high over her head so that the strange shadows of the place grew longer, stranger, and suddenly I felt very sure that something was in the dark with us, but there was no noise except what we made. My eyes scanned the darkness, and I followed the children up the stairs till we met the overhang of the catwalk and I peered into the shadows, the blades of the cultivators—far extended on foldable arms—struck up through the pool of blackness beneath us and I felt so cold there and if it were not for the breath of my fellow travelers, I might have been lost in the dark for longer than intended—lost and frozen and contemplative.
“There’s a room,” said the boy, and he pushed ahead on the hanging passage, and he was the first to the door. “Boxes,” he said plainly.
Upon coming to the place where he stood, Gemma pushed her lantern over the threshold, and I saw what he’d meant as I traced my own lantern to help; the room was crammed with plastic totes and old metal containers of varied sizes. There seemed to be enough empty space to maneuver through the room, but only if one watched their feet while they walked. Carefully.
We moved to the room, and I found a stack of crates to place my lantern then motioned for Gemma to douse hers. In minutes, the place was rearranged so that we could sit comfortably on the floor; crates lined the walls precariously and we breathed heavy from the work done, but we began to unpack and upon watching the children while I rolled a cigarette, I felt a pang of guilt, a terrible summation—all choices in my life had led me here and with them and perhaps it would have been a better world for them without me.
Mentally shrugging this thought away, I lit my cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then withdrew the jar which Andrew had handed over. I held it to the lantern to examine it. The grotesqueness of it hardly phased me and I watched it more curious and hopeful than disgusted.
“I hope it’ll work,” said the boy, “Whatever it is that you plan on doing with it.” He grimaced and maintained a further silence in patting his bedding for fluff. The dog moved to him, and she pushed her forehead against him where he squatted on floor. The boy scratched Trouble’s chin and whispered, “Good girl,” into the top of her head where he’d pushed his own face.
“I’m hungry,” said Gemma; she placed her chin in her arm while watching Andrew with the dog. She sat on her own flat bed there on the floor and stated plainly the thing that I’d hoped to ignore for longer.
“I know.” I took another drag from the cigarette and let the smoke hang over my head. “The dog?”
Andrew recoiled, pulling Trouble closer into his arms.
I smiled. “It was a joke.”
Andrew relaxed, but only a moment before Gemma added, “Maybe.”
The boy narrowed his eyes in the girl’s direction, and she shrugged. “If it’s life or death.”
He didn’t say anything and merely continued stroking Trouble’s coat.
That night, we slept awfully and even in the complete darkness, I felt the cramp of the storage room and the angled shapes of the tools that protruded from the containers on all sides remained permanent well after we’d turned the light off and it felt like those shapes were the teeth of a great creature like we were sitting inside of its mouth, looking out.
Trouble positioned herself partially on my chest, her slow rhythmic breathing brought my thoughts calm and I whispered to her in the dark after I was sure the others were asleep, “I promise it was a joke.” And I brushed the back of her neck with my hand and the animal let go of a long sigh then continued that deep rhythmic breathing.
Still without food or water, the following day was the true indication of the misery to come. Gemma’s stomach growled audibly in waking and Andrew—though he kept his complaints to himself—smacked his lips more often or protruded the tongue in his mouth in a starvation for water. The room, in the daylight which peered through pinpricks of its half-decayed roof, seemed another beast altogether from its nighttime counterpart; it was not so frightening. Again, I admonished myself for the lack of preparation, but there was another thought that brought together a more cohesive feeling; we had a possible plan, a trap for the demon that’d been following us.
We went into the field to the west of the building where there was only dirt beneath our feet in the early sunlight and in the coolness of morning air, I nearly felt like a person. The sun crested the horizon and brought with it a warmth that would quickly become overwhelming—in those few minutes though—it felt good enough. I wished for the shy dew and saw none. The weirdness of holding Andrew’s rotting hand in a jar momentarily caught me and I almost laughed, but refrained and the dog and the children looked on while I held the container up and suddenly, seeing the congealed mass of tissue floating in its own excretions, I was overcome with the urge to run, the urge that nothing would ever be right again in my life, and that I was marked to be that way.
I blinked and tossed the jar to Andrew. “Say goodbye,” I said. He fumbled after it with his right hand and caught it to his chest.
“It’s strange you care so much anyway,” said Gemma, shrugging—her eyes forgave a millisecond of pity and when Andrew looked at her, still holding the jar in his right hand, she smiled and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants.
“We’ve enough oil, I think,” my voice was raspy from it being early, “Enough for good fire, but if we use it, it’ll mean a few more dark nights on our way.”
“We’re going to set it on fire?” Andrew pondered, keeping his eyes to the contents of the jar. “It worked good enough last time. It’ll work,” I nodded, “I has to, doesn’t it?”
His dry lips creased into a brief smile, and he tossed the jar back to me and I caught it.
“Let’s dig,” I said.
Without much in the way of proper tools, we began at the ground under us with our hands, then taking turns with my prybar till there was a hole in the ground comfortably large enough to conceal a human head and I uncapped the jar and spilled it contents there and we covered it back and I lightly tamped it with my boot. My eyes scanned the outbuilding we’d taken refuge in the night prior and then to the street to the north then to the houses which stood as merely rotted plots of foundation with frames that struck from the ground more as markers than support. “I’ll take up over there across the street when it gets dark. I want you two in that storage room before anything goes off.”
“We can’t help?” asked Gemma.
“You can help by staying out of the way—the mutt too,” I said; the words were harsh, but my feelings were from worry.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we stuck together?” asked the girl.
I shook my head. “You stay in the room and keep quiet. No matter what you hear, you stay quiet and safe.”
“That’ll put you at a bigger risk,” Gemma furrowed her brow at me and shifted around to look out on the houses across the street, “There’s hardly any cover over there.”
The boy nodded, smacked his lips, and rubbed his forearm across his mouth then audibly agreed with her.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, “No matter what you hear happening outside, no matter, you don’t open the door and you don’t scream—don’t make a noise at all. Alright? Even if you hear me calling you, you don’t do it.”
“Pfft,” Gemma crossed her arms and kicked her foot against the ground. The way her eyes seemed hollowed with bruising showed that the irritation would only grow without food. “Alright,” she finally sighed.
Andrew looked much the same as she did in that; he swallowed a dry swallow then stuffed his hand into his pocket and looked away when our eyes matched.
We gathered our light oil. Altogether, it seemed enough; rummaging through the room of the outbuilding we’d earlier taken refuge within, we managed three intact glass containers—the only ones found that wouldn’t leak with liquid; two were bottles and the third was the jar that’d once kept Andrew’s hand. With that work done, we sat with three Molotov cocktails within our huddled circle of the storage room.
“Is it enough?” asked Gemma.
“We’ll see,” I began rolling a cigarette to ignore the hunger and the thirst.
Andrew took to the corner and glanced over his shoulder only a moment before a steady liquid stream could be heard and when he rotated from the wall once the noise was finished and he held a canteen up to his nose, sniffed it and quivered and shook his head.
As the sun pushed on, I scanned the perimeter outside, and they followed. Far south I spied a mass of shadow inching across the horizon and Gemma commented, “What’s that?”
I pushed the binoculars to her and let her gaze through them.
“A fiend—that’s what we called it back in the day anyway. A mutant.”
She held the binoculars up and frowned. “A mutant? So, it was once human?”
“A fiend was once many humans.” I pointed out to the horizon though she couldn’t see me doing so and continued, “If you look at the edges of its shape, you’ll see it’s got limbs galore on it. Sticking up like hairs is what it’ll look like at this distance. Those are arms and legs. It’s got faces too. Many faces.” I shuddered.
“I can barely see any details,” she passed the binoculars to Andrew, and he looked through them, “What’s it do?”
“What?” I asked.
“What’s it do if it catches a person?”
“It pulls people into it. Makes you apart of its mass. Nasty fuckers.”
Andrew removed the lenses from his eyes and held them to his chest and asked, “It won’t mess up your trap, will it?”
“We’ll keep an eye on it,” I said, “You don’t want to mess with a fiend unless you have to.”
First/Previous
Archive

In the vast countryside, away from the busy city of Savannah, exist hills as tall as buildings and green as emeralds. There was also an aura of calmness, with a few birds twittering away in dispersed trees, followed by the gentle swaying of the wind.
Then, out of nowhere, came a small, lonely girl wearing a once-lily-white summer dress with a striped long-sleeved t-shirt underneath it. She was also wearing a dark blue and cream-white baseball hat with the letter D on the front of it. She was moving wearily, with a pistol in one hand, and wiping her damp eyes with the other.
She knew what happened to make her weep. According to her, it was her fault that she got him killed; she was convinced by a towering man who said he knew her parents. But that was a brainless, childish lie that got Lee killed. She shouldn’t have run off. At least, Lee taught her how to use a gun and what to expect in the future before his tragic passing. But now she was all on her own.
Eventually, she came to a log, which was next to the rusted shell of a car. Anyway, she proceeded to sit down on it. Throughout all of this, she was as quiet as a mouse, only looking at her feet and wiping her blood-red eyes. She noticed that on the floor next to the log was a mixture of bullets—some shell casings and some unfired ones. Out of curiosity, she picked it up and examined it before exhaling deeply, which is when she noticed something else. Something she could just about make out if she scrutinised her eyes—something on the nearest hill—looked like two figures. One followed the other, and they looked like they stopped to look at her, making her start to hyperventilate as her eyes extended to the size of oranges. Was it someone she knew? Was it a threat to her? She didn’t know.
"Lee said I needed to find Omid and Christa before he got killed because of me." She said to herself, still looking sad, as she noticed that the two figures were now coming down the prominent hill—they didn't look like walkers. So she clasped her gun tightly until the figures came into view. She ended up not firing the gun and running towards the figures, as it was Omid and Christa, and they were alive!
Omid was a tall, slim Persian-American man with short dark-brown hair and a beard to match.
Christa, on the other hand, was a slightly taller African-American lady. She also had jet-black hair tied up in a ponytail, and she was Omid’s girlfriend.
"Clementine, honey, where's Lee?" Christa asked, kneeling to the nine-year-old.
"H-h-he's...dead." She answered with her face buried in Christa’s shoulder.
"Oh, Clementine, we’re sorry," Omid said, who started to kneel to her height as well.
"W-where's Ben and Kenny?" Clementine asked, still with her face buried in Christa’s shoulder.
Omid and Christa then looked at each other without Clementine noticing, and it was Omid who told her what happened to Ben and Kenny.
"So, it’s just us three," Clementine responded, now looking at Omid and Christa with her eyes dry again, a short while later.
"I guess, Clem, I guess so." Christa replied, "Come on, let’s go somewhere safe."
With this, the trio (Clementine, Omid, and Christa) began to walk, with Clementine tagging behind while Omid and Christa were in front. They were busily talking away, apart from Clementine, who was still looking at her feet, along holding the gun in her hand. As a result of this, she wasn't engaged in the conversation that they were having. She was too melancholy about what happened today. With her being kidnapped, seeing her walker parents, Lee dying, and now Kenny and Ben dying as well.
It was a lot for her to take in.
* * * * *
Sometime later, the trio found an abandoned house that had been abandoned for decades, as thick ivy hugged the walls. Furthermore, it reminded Clementine of that house they stayed at in Savannah; it was hard to believe that was a month ago.
Anyway, they succeeded in getting into the house rather than struggling, so now they could search within it.
Clementine, honey," Christa said, kneeling to her. "Omid, and I believe you can search parts of this house on your own. Just remember, if someone, walker or not, tries to hurt you, you got your gun. If you run out of bullets or are in a tight place, call us, and we will help you if you get into trouble. Do you understand?"
“Yeah, I do, Christa; I will be careful."
“Good," replied Christa, "let me know if you find anything."
With this, Clementine strayed a little by searching for anything useful on her own, though she stayed close to Omid and Christa.
As usual in the kitchen, she found faded, rusted cans with nothing but spoiled food inside. So she decided to head upstairs, and it seemed like they creaked with every step; as Omid and Christa were searching the enormous living room. Once she was upstairs, she clasped her pistol tightly and opened the door with one of her hands and the other on the pistol. Nothing. The room was that of a bathroom, with its normal interior—a bath, sink, toothbrushes, and some cupboards—which was stripped of life.
So she closed the door, walked to the next door, and proceeded to open it in the same manner she did for the bathroom. This room was that of a child’s room, which made Clementine remember her room back in Georgia, with its toys and books. It felt like she was just coming home from school and wanted to play with her dolls until supper time; it was hard to believe that was a year ago. Yet, here she was searching for anything useful in terms of survival—and not searching for a certain toy she wanted to play with at present.
“Just as well Lee found me when he did.” She said to herself as she glanced over at the room, trying to remember simpler times. When she went to school, she watched cartoons all day and rode her bike in the park with her parents. When she was thinking about this, she noticed that there was a medium-sized lump near the wall, cloaked in dust. It was a doll, and there was a string attached to its back, and when Clementine pulled it, it produced the word "Mama”.
Clementine remembered the doll that her mother gave her for her sixth birthday; it was probably still in the back of the wardrobe.
Eventually, she found an old pocket-sized backpack with a few flowery stickers, along with a dark-blue hoodie in her size.
“Have you found anything, Clementine?” called out Christa.
“Yeah, a backpack and a hoodie," answered Clementine, walking towards the edge of the stairs where Omid and Christa were.
“Just remember to check the bag, Clem; they might have something useful." Replied Christa.
“Ok," Clementine replied, unzipping the bag and then putting her hand into it, but not looking into it. Lo and behold, she found a working lighter, and it looked like it had a decent amount of fuel for a while.
Clementine then walked to the conclusive door upstairs, and like what she did before, however, the door required a little exertion to open. As a result of this, Clementine noticed that the noise she made alerted her to the presence of a walker heading towards her. This, of course, made Clementine a little timid, but she knew what to do. As her heart started to ram against her ribcage, likewise, a thick seal of sweat began to form on her hands, transferring onto her gun.
Always aim for the head," Clementine said to herself as she exhaled deeply and fired the gun. BANG!! The walker fell with a deafening thud, and Clementine was astounded at herself for shooting the walker that was coming towards her.
I did it, I did it," she exclaimed in a loud whisper. Which is when the door bursts open to reveal Omid and Christa with perturbed faces.
"Is everything OK, Clem? Are you hurt?" Asked Omid.
Yeah, I’m fine; I’m not hurt. Replied Clementine, as the trio all stood in stupefied silence at the walker that Clementine gunned down. "Did you find anything? Clementine asked after a minute of silence.
"Yes. We have found two cans of beans and some water." Christa replied.
"Oh."
“Well, let’s keep moving on, Clem. People might have heard the shot and might come here.” Omid said.
“Ok," responded Clementine. "I said already, but I found a backpack and a hoodie."
“Put it on, Clem; it’s starting to get colder, and we get going."
“Ok, I’ll put it on now."
Clementine then took off her hat, gave the gun to Omid, put on the dark blue hoodie, put her hat back on, and took the gun back from Omid. After that, Clementine followed Christa and Omid downstairs and out of the house and walked on.
* * * * *
Some short weeks later, the trio now situated in a substantial-sized forest under a thick canopy of leaves with Omid tending to a fire. Clementine and Christa, however, were sitting down on some nearby log around the fire.
Christa was busy talking to Omid about her pregnancy, whereas Clementine was busy herself by looking at the stars. The stars flickered and danced in the sky like a million tiny flames, casting a shimmering glow over the forest below. Furthermore, the sky itself was filled with low oranges, along with a mixture of light blues. Which were progressively getting into the realms of dark blues, purples and then full-on jet-black. Moreover, there seemed to be a chorus of crickets hiding somewhere in lush grasses, chirping away harshly.
“I would say that rabbit is cooked now, Omid.”
“Oh, right, yeah,” replied Omid, as he began to take the cooked rabbit off the spit – and handed it out to Christa and Clementine, then to himself.
"Thank you very much," Clementine said as she reached for the rabbit meat before going back to look at the stars. She thought to herself as she ate: "How many are there? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?"
“Hm, what – sorry Christa; what did you say?”
“Omid and I said that we are going to rest here tonight and get going in the morning."
"Ok, as my legs still ache from all that walking we did today."
"Well, get some rest, you're going to need it," Omid said, rising from poking the fire.
"Ok," responded Clementine, getting up from the weather-worn log, wishing Omid and Christa a good night before she got onto the floor near the fire and began to close her eyes. She then began to dream about what she would be doing tomorrow, what would happen, and what she would see.
The next morning was filled with colours ranging from warm yellows trickling through the gaps in the trees. Clementine rubbed her eyes before getting up from the harsh, tough ground and walked to the log where she sat last night, where she saw Omid was cooking again.
"Morning, Clem," Omid said. "How did you sleep?"
"Ok, I'd rather sleep in a bed than on the floor."
"Yeah, I don't like it either, but it's necessary until we get to Wellington."
"Where's Christa?" asked Clementine, now looking around the campsite as she noticed Christa wasn't there.
But then, five minutes later, after Clementine had eaten, Christa came back - and with this, the trio began to walk on; with her now near Omid and Christa. Yet, like last time, Clementine's fingers were still wrapped around her pistol as if it were a part of her. But instead of looking at her feet, she was looking around the pensive clearing.
The clearing was serene, where only a few walkers were roaming around, but they could be seen more evidently through a few hacked trees. The trio strolled down the lane through dappled light filtering itself through the trees; moreover, the sound of the leaves rustled in the weak wind. There was also an occasional bird twittering away on a pile of stacked logs near the broad track Clementine, Omid, and Christa were walking. There was also an infrequent number of signs that littered the road.
"TWO MILES UNTIL TRUCK STOP", Clementine read as she walked on with Omid and Christa.
"How about...Isabella?" Christa said aloud.
"Nah," scoffed Omid, "James is far better."
"That's if it's a boy, Omid. Clementine, do you have any name ideas?"
"What about...Carley?"
"Yeah, that's a good name." Responded Omid, with an expression of puzzled thought in his voice.
For the next couple of miles, they (primarily, Christa and Omid) talked about what seemed to be endless baby names for Christa's child; to pass the time. Clementine wondered if her parents had this amount of difficulty when they chose her name.
Eventually, Clementine stopped a little as Omid and Christa walked on regardless; as she noticed there was a blackbird perched on a nearby tree which cawed before flying into the lush forest.
"What do you think?" asked Omid, as he poised at the truck stop over the abandoned road before crossing it with Christa and Clementine.
"Omid, you can't be serious," answered Christa.
"I am."
"We are NOT doing that."
"Why not?"
"Because one of you is enough!"

I wanted to share this story here because I’ve never experienced something like this really. To set the scene, before May I flew back to my home state in the Midwest (I live in CA now) to visit the last of my buddies who were graduating from college.
And for some quick (not) deep lore about this girl I’m about to mention. We met freshman year of college, we sat by eachother in a class and quickly became friends. Though this friendship only lasted that first semester for unspoken reasons. One for me being - we smoked together on Halloween night towards the end of that semester, I got wayyy too high, and thought they could tell, was so embarrassed. (She had no idea, come to find out). I went on and got a girlfriend (until 2022) and we didn’t speak for the next almost 6 years. She would occasionally and subtly like and interact with things I would share online here and there throughout those years. We hadn’t spoken in forever. I was about to be moving in with 3 friends, 2 men, 1 woman. Key details here: this 1 girl went on to become my gf. One night after we moved in, we all decided to download tinder for the fun of it. Within 5 minutes I got the first match, and it was this girl from freshman year, I ecstatically announced it. Flash forward to my relationship with this girl I lived with - it was never forgotten. She would use it against me when she was feeling insecure and ask if I loved her or was thinking about her. When in all honesty, I wasn’t, and didn’t speak to her, but she kept always planting this thought back in my head and questioning my commitment. I had a major crush on this girl when we had that class together, but that was years prior, and don’t think I even expressed it to anybody, but I got over it and moved on, never thought it was a possibility.
Flash forward.
Before going home to visit the boys I posted a photo of myself on my story, not particularly serious but was just feeling good in my skin that day. Me, being single for 2 years now, found that freshman year gal liked it. And cmon, instagram is basically a dating app and we all know it. I said fuck it, and DM’d her that I wanted to see her again. Because in all sincerity, I did. She always peeked my interest, we had good laughs and time together through those short couple months. Whenever I would see her around or from afar during school I would just be curious about what she was up to and like. This in no way ever lead unloyalty in my relationship, I was happy in it. But I pretty much “wasn’t allowed” to speak to her again or interact. Out of respect for my (at the time) girlfriend’s feelings, and knowing that even though I wasn’t feeling anything for this girl, my interacting with her would make my gf think otherwise.
After the Dm was sent
I left my phone in the car and anxiously went into the gym. When I came back I found a message of her saying how she would “love that” etc. To spare your time, if you’ve read this far - we had some good online chatting and came to find out that we were both very deeply crushing on eachother that freshman year, and thought we were both out of reach for eachother. This information would’ve gone unspoken and unknown forever had she not liked my story, and I not dmd. I asked her if at the end of my friends visit I could leave them early and come down to her and take her on a date. She lived about 4 hours south of where I was at. She happily agreed and this implied that I would stay with her.
The date went beautifully. It was out of a movie. Museam/butterfly house, food, sitting and talking for 4 hours straight, etc etc. the part that really surprised me as well was the level of open communication we had. She expressed that she was anxious before bed and I told her that she should tell me next moment she gets a wave, and she did. She said nobody has ever done that for her. I decided that I didn’t want to try and sleep with her because of all of these factors of the date, and this bit of anxiety. We slept together, but didn’t sleep together. The morning, all of it, was so lovely and romantic, and I think that by not having sex we established our quickly discovered joy for eachothers presence.
I had to leave after that morning and head home, to catch my flight back to CA. Again more movie shit. A wonderful date then leaving state right after, brutal.
Flash forward one more time, bear with me.
Current day. Last week she bought a plane ticket to come visit me here for 4 nights at the end of this month. I’ve never been with someone where I would be comfy with them visiting for that amount of time having only gone on one date. I am eagerly waiting for her visit, and she is the same. This is crazy right?! Maybe a good crazy. We are just both happy to be this enthusiastic about something. I think we are on the same page. Can’t really worry about other factors just yet. Need to enjoy it as and how it comes.
In short: the girl I met and lost touch with that my ex always worried about (for no valid reason. I had zero contact or feeling for this gal during relationship) is flying out to stay with me for 4 nights on the other side of the country after going on one date. We connected very deeply, very fast. My ex and I had a healthy split. She is definitely going to hate me and all of my past truthful statements will now become lies in her head right?

Sorry - this is a repost! I attached a photo and somehow messed up the last one.
Anyways, my girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan. She's had a passion project for the last six months, creating a "125 Facts" about Taylor Swift book. She literally watched idk how many interviews, music videos, read articles - you get it. But this book has literally been her focus for... half a year lol
She released it on Amazon, and its sitting dead lol I've been trying to gather reviews for her, but haven't had a whole lot of luck. She used to look at the book every day, and now she doesn't even mention it. (I guess she hadn't considered the marketing aspect of publishing lol)
Anyways, I really wanna surprise her! I'm gonna give away a bunch of copies, in exchange for honest reviews on Amazon. BIG NOTE: YOU DON'T HAVE TO REVIEW TO GET A COPY, I want you to enjoy it regardless. If you happen to find time, that would be amazing.
I wanna bring it up in a month and be like, babe - have you checked your book lately? She'll flip out if she sees like 100 reviews lol It would be golden. I can't wait.
Anyways, if anyone wants a copy, Write a comment below and I'll send it over in a chat message.

I have an upcoming 16 hour flight from JFK to HKG and will have to sit in economy for the flight because I can't afford a nicer seat.
I was hit by a car (while walking) and am now in recovery but get sharp shooting pain when I sit for too long. Ive managed to make DTW to CDG doable, but there are definitely times where it starts to really hurt at the last couple hours.
Does anyone have any tips to mitigate pain? Any tips welcome! Much thanks!

26M 195lbs
Hx: HTN, tachycardia, mild mitral valve prolapse
Since beginning of April I’ve been having these sharp shooting pain on the right side of the head, rarely on the left side (8-9/10), lasts for maybe few seconds to minutes. Sometimes immediately when standing up or stretching - I’d have to pause, close my eyes coz of the severity and wait for it to go away. Other times when sitting idle or lying down but not as severe.
I had an episode last week where the headache was generalized rated 9/10, lasted for a few hours, had to take an advil and sleep it off. I also have a fiorcet which I’ve taken twice since it initially started. Sometimes I also feel pressure in my head.
I also experience nausea with the headaches, insomnia, tinnitus with hearing loss that lasts 3-4 seconds and forgetfulness.
I’ve noticed I’ve been making stupid mistakes like turning the light on when the light was already on - so I essentially turned it off and on again. The most concerning thing to me is that on 2 separate occasions I was driving at night, I was not being inattentive but I suddenly realized I was getting close to a red light. I was still at a safe distance but there was a gap in my memory coz I didn’t remember seeing it being red earlier and I never wait that long to start braking.
I had a CT head done and I was told it was normal. If a physician on here wants to take a look I could send the iso file.
The reason I’m posting on here is coz I feel like I was rushed at the doctor’s office so I couldn’t raise my concerns effectively. I was told that it could be a sinus infection so they prescribed antibiotics.
what do you guys think?

Previously, on Hell’s Kitchen…
The final 10 were given a challenge not seen in over a decade, creating their own menus in the revival of Red vs Blue Menu Night. While the blue team worked together, with a strong concept provided by Melody, the red team found themselves being led by Thomas, whether they liked it or not. However, as the chefs were returning to the kitchen to begin cooking their dishes, disaster struck, as Travis re-injured his ankle, and had to be taken to the hospital. Despite being down a man, and Grace feeling shortchanged by not getting anything on the menu, the blue team’s cohesive selection still managed to impress Ramsay and his special guests: three previous winners of Hell’s Kitchen. The red team’s menu had mixed results, which led to friction between Thomas and some of his teammates
In service, the blue team’s menu had the edge in popularity, but thanks to poor communication between Grace and Carole, the kitchen ground to a halt multiple times. Meanwhile, the red kitchen managed to push out their food in a timely manner thanks to strong teamwork on entrees. With the red team named the winners of service, it was time for the blue team to nominate two chefs to send home.
At elimination, though, everyone was in for a shock when Travis, who had been one of the early favorites, returned and announced that due to injury, he would be leaving Hell’s Kitchen for good. Ramsay still insisted on hearing from the blue team’s nominees, who were Grace, Carole and Melody after they failed to come to a consensus. But with Travis’ dream of becoming the next head chef at Gordon Ramsay Steak in Vancouver, British Columbia already having come to a heartbreaking end, Ramsay gave everyone another chance to show him why they were the chef he was looking for, but assured them that he was not taking any more excuses from now on.
https://reddit.com/link/1ctwn9g/video/oifsieupww0d1/player
And now, the continuation of Hell’s Kitchen…
After witnessing the shocking withdrawal of Travis from the competition, no one was in a celebratory mood as Ramsay dismissed them to the dorms for the night. Carole said in her confessional that he had been the main one supporting her in the blue team, and now it felt like she was truly on her own. As the blue team returned to the dorms, a very upset Melody unleashed her frustration, saying that Travis did not deserve to go home tonight over either Carole and Grace, and they needed to cut the bullshit and start thinking and working as a team. Lauren said in her confessional that it seemed like something snapped in Melody tonight, as she was well and truly fed up with the drama, which definitely made two of them. Even so, after noticing that Melody was sitting alone and nearly in tears, Lauren went over to comfort her, as Melody admitted that she hated to have to talk that way to her teammates, but she was sick and tired of the drama. Lauren assured her that it had to be said, and was proud of her for stepping up. Meanwhile, Grace said in her confessional that Melody seemed to be losing her composure, and would hopefully go down in flames soon.
On the red team’s side of the dorm, Faye was also feeling sadness over the way Travis had gone out, as she admitted to Michael that it reminded her too much of her own exit last season, only at least she had made the choice to walk away, while Travis never had one. Meanwhile, another chef had mixed feelings on the sudden turn of events, as Thomas said in his confessional that Travis had been a strong chef and a good person, and while losing him would cut the competition down, he would have rather seen him go out with dignity. Ramona and Everett, meanwhile, continued to stick closely together, with Ramona saying in her confessional that it felt good to have the security of the immunity pass, because she and Everett were definitely the most likely to be nominated if service went wrong, though she admitted she would feel some guilt if he went out because of it, but this was her career and future at stake. Everett said in his confessional that he couldn’t afford to worry about what might happen if he went up on the chopping block, and was just focused on trying to help the red team win.
The chefs were still trying to take in all the events of the night, but finally, tiredness overtook them, and they turned in for the night.
Challenge
The next day, the final 9 came downstairs to find Ramsy waiting for them, as well as a detailed diagram of a cow. Ramsay explained that he still had not forgotten the disaster that was Steak Night, and that was why, for this next challenge, he wanted to give both teams a chance to prove how far they had come by preparing dishes using five cuts: ribeye, top sirloin, hanger, flank, and striploin. Thomas said in his confessional that the red team had no business fucking this up, as they had several chefs who were strong on the meat station in services, while Lauren was nervous in her confessional, as she wasn’t sure about Grace or Carole. Since the blue team had one less member, one chef would have to prepare two dishes, which Lauren volunteered to do. With their instructions having been given, Ramsay told the chefs that their time started now.
The chefs rushed into their respective kitchens and quickly tried to sort out who would be responsible for which cuts of steak. In the blue kitchen, Lauren decided to take on the hanger and flank steak, while Grace took the ribeye, over Carole’s objections, and Carole was left with the striploin, while Melody took the top sirloin. Grace said in her confessional that she fought for this ribeye and she was going to carry her team to victory whether they liked it or not, while Carole said she would’ve felt much safer if anyone else were cooking the ribeye besides Grace. While Carole still seemed undecided on which direction to go with her New York Strip, at least one chef already had her dish planned out, and that was Melody, who went into detail in her confessional on how she wanted to plate her top sirloin. Meanwhile, Lauren was working hard to manage two separate cuts of meat, saying in her confessional that taking on the extra workload could either make her look really good in front of Chef Ramsay or totally blow up in her face.
In the red kitchen, Thomas was on the top sirloin, Ramona had the ribeye, Faye had hanger steak, Michael had flank steak, and Everett had striploin. Ramona said in her confessional that she had to deliver on the ribeye, as she already had the most losses of any chef here, and didn’t need to add any more to her resume with black jackets approaching. Thomas was confident that he could handle the top sirloin, as he said in his confessional that no one still here should have any issues cooking meat, and he would be disappointed in himself if he didn’t achieve perfection on this dish. Michael noticed Ramona seemed to be having some trouble with her ribeye, and tried to offer some advice, but Ramona said in her confessional that she had to do this alone, and told him she had it under control. Michael was annoyed, saying in his confessional that this was still a team effort, and it was no time to let egos get in the way. Meanwhile, Faye and Everett were seemingly in good spirits, with Everett saying in his confessional that meat was where he felt the most at home, and if he failed at this challenge, he might as well go home now, while Faye said in her confessional that it was nice to see Everett so energetic, and she hoped his dish could match that.
With the time nearly up, the chefs put the finishing touches on their dishes as Ramsay called out the final seconds and told the chefs to bring their plates to the pass. Ramsay then announced that he would be joined by a special guest judge for this competition, who was a familiar face to viewers of MasterChef: Ramsay’s former co-host on that show, Graham Elliot. The chefs were starstruck, with Melody saying in her confessional Graham was the best, and easily her favorite judge on MasterChef…after Ramsay, of course. After exchanging a warm greeting, Ramsay said it was time to get down to business, starting with the battle of the flank steak. This round would pit Lauren against Michael, with Michael saying in his confessional that this was his first time going against Lauren in a challenge, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy to take her down, given how consistently strong she had been. After tasting Lauren’s dish, both Ramsay and Elliot had high praise, saying the meat was tender and nicely cooked, although Elliot did say he might have done something different for the garnish. Lauren was second-guessing herself in her confessional, but In the end, both judges gave it four stars out of five. Michael said in his confessional that as expected, Lauren put up a good dish, but he was confident in his as well. Indeed, Michael’s flank steak was also found to be nicely cooked, and despite the somewhat simple presentation, Ramsay said this was a great start for both teams, as again, both he and Elliot each gave it a four.
With the score tied at 8, it was time for the battle of the hanger steak. Lauren stayed where she was while Faye brought her dish up to the pass. Elliot was impressed that Lauren had cooked two dishes for the challenge, although he noted that the hanger steak could’ve used a little more cooking time, which Ramsay agreed with, saying that was the one thing holding it back, and Lauren kicked herself in her confessional, as she said she should have been able to stay on top of it. Elliot only gave it a three due to the undercooked steak, though Ramsay said it still delivered enough flavor to get a four. Faye’s dish also got mixed reviews, as both chefs praised the cook of the meat, but questioned her garnish choices, with Ramsay pointing out that the presentation seemed slightly off. Elliot said she got the most important part right though, and gave it a four, to which Ramsay agreed, which put the red team ahead 16-15. In the third round, the teams’ ribeye dishes went head to head, for which Ramona and Grace stepped forward. Unfortunately for Ramona, her ribeye was badly overcooked, and Ramsay took her to task for serving something practically inedible to him and his guest. Ramona groaned in her confessional, as she couldn’t believe she had fucked up this badly. Both judges gave her a one, and Ramsay said she was lucky to get even that. Grace’s dish got mixed reviews, with Ramsay saying the presentation was shocking, while Elliot noted that the ribeye again was overcooked, though not nearly as much as Ramona’s. Ramsay said this was not what he expected from these chefs at this stage of the game, and gave Grace a one, but Elliot was more generous and gave it a two, as at least it had some flavor.
With the scores now tied at 18, it was time for the battle of the top sirloin, as Thomas and Melody brought their dishes forward. Melody’s dish earned praise for it’s stylish presentation and garnish, and after tasting the steak itself, Ramsay noted that it was cooked perfectly, and said this dish was a strong four, but Elliot went a step further and said it deserved a five, which made Melody giddy in her confessional, as she never could have imagined hearing those words before. Next was Thomas, with Elliot again noting the stunning presentation, and after tasting, he said that these two had really raised the bar today. Ramsay agreed and said it was the best pair of dishes yet, and this time, he would be giving out a five. Elliot agreed, giving Thomas a perfect score, which he took with a calm smile in his confessional, as he said Melody gave him a good run, but he never had any doubts. With the red team now back in the lead 28-27, it was time for the final round, as Everett and Carole would face off in the battle of the New York Strip. Everett went first, with Elliot saying, after a long pause…that the strip was absolutely delicious. Ramsay agreed, also praising the presentation, and said this was one of Everett’s best dishes yet in Hell’s Kitchen, as that deserved a very strong four. Elliot gave the same score, bringing the red team’s total up to an impressive 36, meaning Carole needed close to a perfect score to keep the blue team in it. Everett was absolutely fired up in his confessional, saying this was just the boost that he needed, and there was no stopping him now. Meanwhile, Carole presented her dish, which got good marks for presentation, but as Elliot sliced into the strip, he said it looked undercooked, to which Ramsay agreed, and said it was a great shame. Though it was only a formality, both Elliot and Ramsay gave the dish a two, giving the red team a 36-31 win.
Reward / Punishment
Ramsay thanked Elliot for helping him judge the challenge, and once he had left, Ramsay turned back to the chefs and congratulated the red team on winning the challenge, in particular praising the efforts of Everett and Thomas. He then said they were in for a fun reward, as he was sending all of them off for a day of paintball, followed by dinner at an exquisite LA steakhouse. Ramona was relieved in her confessional, as she knew she could have blown it for the red team with her ribeye, while Everett was ecstatic to have redeemed himself in this challenge, as he said in his confessional that he was still a beast at cooking meat. While the red team ran off to get changed, Ramsay turned his attention to the blue team and said that for today’s punishment, he had decided to put it towards a good cause by volunteering them for community service, which meant picking up trash on the side of the road. Grace moaned in her confessional, as she said that they always seemed to save the worst punishments for her. Ramsay reminded Melody that she still had that punishment pass, and offered to let her use it. Melody replied that she was never a paintball type of girl, and would rather help out the environment. Ramsay accepted her choice and told the blue team that they too would be changing…into their stunning orange uniforms.
The red team came back downstairs, and Michael joked in his confessional that it looked like Hell’s Kitchen had turned into a prison, while Faye apologetically said goodbye. While on the way to the paintball ground, the red team talked amongst themselves in the car, with Thomas saying that no one else was going home from the red team, and Michael agreed, saying they were all getting black jackets. Faye wondered aloud who their biggest competition might be from the blue team, but everyone quickly agreed that Lauren was the strongest. Ramona said in her confessional that she knew everyone was sleeping on her, but she would simply have to prove them wrong in service. Later, the chefs arrived at the paintball ground, and Faye said she hoped none of them would go easy on her just because she was a woman. Everett joked that she had nothing to worry about there, and the team ended up having an enjoyable afternoon, with Ramona and Everett trying to team up against Thomas, but he was able to shoot both of them. Michael said in his confessional that it felt great to just get outside and let loose without having to do some exhausting punishment. As evening approached, the red team were then taken to dinner, which Everett said in his confessional was some of the finest quality steak he had ever tasted, though not quite as good as the home cooking back in Oklahoma, which got some laughs from the others. Faye said that the next winner was sitting right here at this table, to which the others enthusiastically toasted, and the chefs continued to bond as a team over their meal.
While the red team were living the good life, the blue team were working in the hot sun to ensure that the environment could do the same. While the others tried to get on with their task, though, Grace’s constant complaining quickly got on all of their nerves, as Carole said in exasperation in her confessional that they were all well aware of the fact that Grace didn’t want to be here, and she didn’t need to broadcast it every five seconds. Lauren joked with Melody that she wouldn’t mind going on that paintball reward just to take a few shots at Grace, which Melody said in her confessional was tough to argue with, as even her optimistic outlook was being challenged right now by Grace’s incessant whining. Carole said in her confessional that she and Grace were definitely the most vulnerable on the team, but as long as Grace kept this up, she was making the decision easy for everyone, and as far as Carole was concerned, that was perfectly fine. Despite having their patience tested, the blue team worked through their physically exhausting community service and, for the most part, left feeling that at least some good had come of it.
Back in Hell’s Kitchen, the blue team arrived first and tried to unwind in the dorms until the red team returned later in the night. Grace quickly became annoyed with the red team talking about their reward, while Ramona said in her confessional that she didn’t mind rubbing it in her old rival’s face a bit. Lauren said in her confessional that the red team could have this one, as she was keeping her eyes on service. As the night dragged on, another topic came up, that being Travis, as everyone on the blue team aside from Grace admitted to missing him, and Lauren jokingly said even the punishments just weren’t the same now. Faye sympathized, as she said it was tough to watch a chef who had put everything on the line and pushed through an injury go out like that, even if this was a competition. Thomas agreed and said that everyone here deserved a chance to fight for their dream, as for these chefs, it was a potentially life changing opportunity, and he knew he would be devastated to lose it. Michael said in his confessional that it was no time for fucking around anymore, as they all needed to cook like it was their last night in Hell’s Kitchen.
The chefs chatted amongst themselves for a while longer before finally trying to get some sleep.
Pre-Service
The next day, the chefs went downstairs to begin prep, as Ramsay said that this was the stage in the competition where he wanted to see the best begin to shine, and warned that there would be nowhere to hide for chefs who were struggling to keep up. With that, he told the blue team that despite being a man down, he expected absolutely nothing less than a stellar performance, and told the red team not to get too comfortable with their challenge win, as they still needed to be locked in for service. With all nine chefs seemingly read to go, Ramsay allowed them to get started on prep.
In the blue kitchen, Melody and Lauren were in good spirits, though Melody admitted she still missed having Travis here, despite the fact that the blue team was all women now. Carole said in her confessional that the ladies should have no problems taking this service, as while she didn’t mind the format change, having all girls on one team was how it was done in the old days, and it would be even better if Grace was gone. Grace, meanwhile, seemed to be in a bad mood after her ribeye flopped in the challenge, as she said in her confessional that it couldn’t have been as bad as Ramsay said, as much as she respected his opinion, and refused to acknowledge Melody’s attempts to talk to her. Melody said in her confessional that nobody wanted Grace here, but the least she could do was try to reach out, as futile as it seemed. Lauren said in her confessional that in order for the blue team to win tonight, they needed Carole and Grace to step up big time, as she and Melody couldn’t do all the work here.
While the blue team was hoping for a miracle, the red team seemed loose and ready to go, with Michael saying that he had a good feeling about tonight, as there were no excuses for losing to the blue team now. Ramona said to Everett that this was their redemption night, with Everett agreeing and saying they were going to kick some culinary ass, and Faye said it was great to see both of them committed to bouncing back and leading the red team to another win. Everett replied that Grace was going home tonight for sure, which got some laughs from the others, as Michael said in his confessional that this was the one thing he was sure literally everyone else could agree on. Thomas, though, said in his confessional that everyone being this hyped up actually worried him, as he hoped they weren’t getting distracted and forgetting that they still had to earn the win. Michael encouraged him to lighten up, as they had a virtual all-star team here, but Thomas still maintained his serious demeanor, with Ramona saying in her confessional that this guy seriously needed to get a hobby.
Ramsay reminded the chefs again that he was looking for these chefs to show him why they deserved to become the head chef of Gordon Ramsay Steak, and with that, he called out to Marino and told him to open Hell’s Kitchen.
Dinner Service
Guests began to enter Hell’s Kitchen by the dozens, as it was once again the center of the culinary world for tonight, filled to the brim with celebrities and Hollywood elites. It was not long before orders began to make their way back to both kitchens.
In the blue kitchen, they were looking to Grace on appetizers and Carole on fish to give the blue team an early edge, while Lauren was on garnish and Melody was on meat. Early on, Grace managed to successfully deliver her first table of lobster tail risottos and capellini, with nicely cooked tails from Carole along with an acceptable order of scallops. Carole said in her confessional that they absolutely needed to keep this up, as both of them were effectively cooking for their lives right now. Unfortunately, communication issues cropped up again, with Grace not talking to Carole and bringing up her dishes without waiting for Carole’s scallops. Ramsay called out for the scallops, saying food was dying at the pass, and demanded to know why the fuck they couldn’t just work together as a team. Carole did eventually bring up the scallops, but they were raw, much to Ramsay’s disgust, and Grace said in her confessional that Carole just needed to get out of here as she clearly wasn’t cutting it. Despite these issues, and an overly salty risotto from Grace, the blue team did manage to finally start getting appetizers out into the dining room, with Ramsay even praising Grace’s risottos at one point, and telling her that’s what she could do if she would focus more on cooking than starting shit with her team. The blue team did eventually complete appetizers and began working on entrees.
In the red kitchen, Everett was working appetizers, while Michael was on fish, Ramona was on garnish, and Thomas and Faye were together on meat. Everett was glad to be working closely with Michael again, as he said in his confessional that they made a good team in the last service on meat. Early on, that familiarity seemed to be paying off, as Everett and Michael worked in sync with each other on the first few tickets and got their orders out in a timely fashion. Things did get bumpy, however, when Everett served mushy, overcooked capellini, and started dragging on orders, while Michael served overcooked scallops due to them getting mixed up on their times. Michael said in his confessional that they needed to get it together quickly, as they couldn’t afford to be falling behind so early in service. Meanwhile, Ramsay wanted to know where the energy was, as right now, Everett was going quiet and not responding when asked for times, and nothing was going out. Michael urged Everett to wake up and fight through it, and Everett did manage to get his next attempt at the capellini accepted. In his confessional, Everett said he was trying his best to keep it together, and admitted he had been thrown off his game, but he was far from done. With Everett’s newfound determination, the red kitchen finally had some life again, and after Ramsay praised both Michael’s scallops and Everett’s risottos, the two of them managed to get their rhythm back and serve the rest of their tables.
In the blue kitchen, they looked fo Melody to lead the way from the meat station, and thanks to strong communion between her, Lauren on garnish, and Carole on fish, they managed to get their dishes to the pass for the first table, but Carole’s turbot was undercooked, which left the entire order waiting for her, but she was able to recover quickly on her second attempt. On meat, Melody said in her confessional that it was pretty overwhelming to have to serve all of the blue team’s customers by herself for the first time, but despite dragging a bit on orders, she managed to push high quality Wellingtons and New York Strip out into the dining room consistently. Lauren, meanwhile, seemed at home driving tickets from the garnish station, and the blue team was finally starting to settle into a groove. Melody did serve a rare New York Strip, while Carole served raw turbot, but both were able to bounce back, and entrees were soon flying out to grateful diners. Melody and Lauren once again had no problems communicating and working in sync from their stations, with Lauren saying in her confessional that she and Melody could probably run the kitchen by themselves. But it was Carole who once again held up the kitchen when she inexplicably fired off halibut despite it not being on the ticket, which got her schooled by Ramsay for not paying attention to the ticket when he was standing less than five feet away. Despite this, the blue team managed to complete the rest of their entrees, and were soon ready to get started on desserts.
The red team was starting on entrees with Thomas and Faye on the meat station, and Faye said in her confessional that with meat being a station she felt comfortable in, she hoped tonight could be the night she stood out for the red team. On the first ticket, she and Thomas managed to serve beautifully cooked Wellingtons and New York Strip, along with nicely cooked turbot from Michael, but Ramona was holding the table up by dragging on garnish. Though she eventually managed to bring it up, Ramona would continue to drag on her section, frustrating her team, but especially Ramsay, as he kept calling out for times, with Ramona becoming flustered and not responding to her team. Ramona said in her confessional that the nerves were absolutely getting to her right now, and she seriously needed to bounce back. Meanwhile, Faye ran into some trouble on her Wellingtons, as she undercooked them for one table and said she would need several minutes for a refire, though she was able to recover. Thomas also had a rare mistake as he served undercooked New York Strip, and Ramsay said he didn't expect that from the executive chef. Thomas kicked himself in his confessional, saying that could not happen again, and he did manage to serve a beautiful New York Strip on his refire. However, on the next ticket, Ramona served a pot of runny mashed potatoes, and also seemed lost on what was actually going, as she couldn’t recall the ticket when Ramsay asked her. Ramsay had seen enough and took her into the pantry, asking her what the fuck she was doing, and if it was some kind of joke to her. Ramona insisted it wasn’t and said it was just nerves, but Ramsay replied that she needed to shake those nerves right now, or he would send her out the front door, immunity pass or not. Ramona said in her confessional that it was do or die, and she did manage to finally serve acceptable garnishes. Faye was still dragging on Wellingtons, which frustrated Ramsay, but finally, the red team managed to complete their remaining entrees.
Both teams finished their desserts in good time, and Ramsay told them to clear down.
Post-Mortem
Ramsay had the teams line up and started by saying that this was still not the complete performance he had been looking for. For the blue team, appetizers had been underwhelming, but they improved on entrees. For the red team, it was a decent start on apps, followed by a nightmare on entrees. However, he noted that one team in particular had a slight edge, and that was the blue team, as despite their issues, their customer comment cards gave them a satisfaction rating of 90%, to 84% from the red team. Ramsay said that the fiasco on entrees cost the red team this service, and told them to think long and hard about which two should be going up for elimination tonight. With that, he dismissed both teams to the dorms.
Back in the dorms, the red team’s deliberations were kicked off by Thomas, as he said he hoped everyone could agree that Ramona had dropped the ball tonight on garnish. The others seemed to agree, with Michael saying it was her worst performance in a while. Ramona only half-heartedly fought back, as she said she was better than this, and knew she still deserved to be here, but said if they wanted to put her up, it was their choice. In her confessional, she said she knew that immunity pass wouldn’t last forever, and it was better to get her bad service out of the way now, than during black jackets. With the first nominee having been an easy choice, the second would be more challenging, as Everett acknowledged that Michael and Thomas both had great services despite each having a mistake, and didn’t deserve to go up, which left either him or Faye. Thomas said that he felt Faye had struggled on meat, and that Ramsay rightfully had high expectations of both of them, due to his experience and her being a past chef, so he would vote for her. Michael, though, said that he had to vote for Everett, as he was just too inconsistent at this stage. Faye seemed torn but said she had to vote for Everett, even though they were friends, as he had struggled the most of the available options. Ramona was left with the deciding vote, and said in her confessional that it was impossibly difficult, as Faye had been a mentor for her here, while she had also bonded with Everett.
On the blue team’s side of the dorm, everyone was pleased to have won service and avoided having to send anyone home…well, almost everyone. Lauren admitted to Melody that it sucked having to put up with Grace for another day, while Melody tried to get her to think more positively, as if they were winning with Grace on their team, Ramsay definitely had to be taking notice. Lauren smiled and said she was definitely right about that, and the two of them continued chatting together while Carole sat off by herself and pondered her future in Hell’s Kitchen, In her confessional, she said she was damn lucky that the blue team won tonight, as she and Grace would have gone up otherwise, and that could have been it for her and her dream. Meanwhile, Grace felt that she had done well, and could have done even better without Carole getting in the way, saying in her confessional that it would be nice to get rid of dead weight, but she would settle for seeing someone from the red team go home.
Elimination Ceremony
The red team entered the dining room anxiously and lined up before Ramsay, who said that this was supposed to be the best five on the red team, but instead, it looked like two completely different teams, and while he didn’t know what the hell was going on, he was going to get to the bottom of it. With that, he asked Thomas for the red team’s first nominee and why. Thomas announced that the red team had nominated Ramona, due to her terrible performance on garnish, and being the weakest chef on the team. Ramsay asked for the second nominee and why. Thomas hesitated briefly before announcing that…the red team was nominating Everett, due to his declining performances and up and down service on appetizers. Before getting to any elimination pleas, though, Ramsay told Ramona to step forward and had her hand over the immunity pass. As she did so, Ramsay said that if not for the pass, Ramona would have gone home tonight, and urged her to take advantage of this second chance, before sending her back in line. Ramona appeared visibly shaken as she went to rejoin the red team. Ramsay said that the red team now had 30 seconds to talk amongst themselves and come up with another nominee. In the huddle, the chefs quickly determined that Faye would go up, as she had been their other consideration. As they broke the huddle, Thomas announced that Faye was the red team’s new nominee. Ramsay accepted this and told Everett and Faye to step forward.
Deliberation music
First, Ramsay asked Faye why she should stay in Hell’s Kitchen.
Faye: “My time away from Hell’s Kitchen gave me a whole new perspective on cooking, it made me realize why I’m doing this. It’s for my family, it’s for me, I can’t imagine doing anything else. That’s why I’ll never give up on myself or my team.”
Ramsay asked Faye if she thought she was a better chef than Everett.
Faye: “...Everett is a fighter, chef, and a good teammate, but yes, I do believe I’m stronger than him in terms of consistency and leadership.”
Ramsay moved on to Everett, asking him why he should stay in Hell’s Kitchen.
Everett: “This competition is a marathon, chef. I’ve had my ups and downs, I’ve had my stumbles, but I feel like I’m just on the cusp of hittin’ my stride.”
Ramsay said he had been waiting and waiting for Everett to emerge, and it seemed like he was trending downwards.
Everett: “I’ve had a slump, chef, I ain’t gonna deny that. But I’m fightin’ through it. I know I can be your next head chef.”
Ramsay asked Everett if he thought he was a stronger chef than Faye.
Everett: “Chef…”
Dramatic music
Ramsay waited on Everett’s answer, and after a tense moment, he finally spoke…
Everett: “Chef…at this time, no, I can’t say that I am.”
Faye glanced over at Everett in shock, as did everyone else from the red team, and even some of the blue team.
Ramsay: “I appreciate the honesty. Please, give me your jacket, your time is done in Hell’s Kitchen.”
Elimination music
Everett handed over his jacket and shook Ramsay’s hand.
Everett: “Thank you so much for this opportunity, chef.”
Ramsay: “Let me tell you something, young man, you have so much passion and fightback within you, I’ve seen it throughout this competition. Unfortunately, I didn’t see enough of it in service, or just now, but I hope you can find it again, because you are bloody talented. I wish you all the best.”
Everett thanked Ramsay again and waved goodbye to his team as he exited Hell’s Kitchen.
Everett’s comment
“Oh man…when I first entered Hell’s Kitchen, I never thought I’d be walkin’ out the door like this. I thought I was headed straight for the top, no problem. Each day was like this crazy mixture of anxiety, thrills, and drama. I fought, and I fought, and I fought for my place, until, I guess I just couldn’t fight no more. I’ll always have good memories of my time here, but I sure as hell wouldn’t do it again! (laughs)

With Everett’s elimination, Ramsay told Faye to get back in line, and addressed the chefs collectively as the final 8, saying that tonight should be a reminder to each of these chefs that a downward spiral at this point was unacceptable, as things were not going to get any easier. With that, Ramsay told them all to get some rest, because tomorrow, he was going to start separating the chefs from the cooks.
As the chefs went back to the dorms, several of them had confessionals. Thomas said that Ramona was definitely a bigger liability than Everett, but hopefully losing her immunity would wake her up. Michael said that it sucked that Everett left when he was far from the worst tonight. Ramona was clearly still shaken from the experience, as she said she felt awful about Everett going home when she had a worse performance, and knew she had to bounce back tomorrow or it would all be over for her. Melody said that between Travis and Everett, watching their fellow chefs go home was just getting more and more difficult, but she knew there were still seven more between her and the grand prize. Grace said none of these chefs were on her level, and she was going to keep being herself and kicking ass in the kitchen, regardless of her team’s hate for her. Lauren said that with only four on each team, there was nowhere left to hide, and everything they had done up until now was just the warm up for the real tests that lay ahead.
​Placement
https://preview.redd.it/rpdx9533yw0d1.png?width=2447&format=png&auto=webp&s=52806b2d14807ba57be90bfa8261368e2dbea4cb

From the beginning...
Cast

Part 2, Chapter 8

Conferring briefly, Arthur strides across the bridge [1]. Before he gets halfway across, a voice rings out. “HALT. Come no further. We want nothing from you, and have nothing for you. Depart peaceably.” The voice is feminine, with a thick rural Damaran accent, not so dissimilar to Arthur’s.
Arthur comes to a stop. “We come in peace. We just want to know what is going on. We’re on a mission from the Council of Thanes in Ironspur. This is their forge.”
“No dwarves here. It’s ours now. You need know nothing more. Away!”
Arthur withdraws to the group, where suddenly Zander notices that Dillium has disappeared. One thing at a time. “Perhaps if we paid a toll.” Zander suggests.
“We’ll pay a toll to cross the bridge and converse.” Arthur booms.
“How much?”
“How much do you want?”
“Three figures. Leave it on the bridge.”
“We’ll give you a hundred pieces of silver.”
There is no reply. Through the haze of the heat and ash, the outlines of the people on the other side of the chasm appear to be lined up.
“Are you with the dragon?” Novos calls out.
“Of course not! He’s taken our people. Are you?”
“No. He stole our elf!” Zander calls out.
“We just want to look around,” Novos adds. He takes a few steps toward the bridge, but a dagger sails out of the darkness and misses Novos’ foot by … well, several feet.
“Go away!”
The argument goes back and forth. Daggers are thrown until the unknown assailant runs out or gets tired, then crossbow bolts are launched. Novos takes cover behind Zander, who good-naturedly holds his shield out in protection. After several shots, Novos makes out the shape of a shooter above and to his left. Aiming carefully, he fires back with his bow.
“Look, we’re coming across. I’ll give ten gold pieces to anyone who lays down arms and talks.” Novos announces.
“Don’t you dare!” the voice cuts through, though it looks like the shapes of people on the other side of the chasm are less decided. Several low conversations break out, and though nobody can make out the words, the tones range from willing to harsh.
Zander decides to take a position on the bridge. This of course means Novos is a clear target again, though it’s hard to make out anything through the haze and the crossbow bolts miss more frequently than they hit.
***
A pebble rolls across the floor and nudges Dillium’s foot. Looking around, she sees the redheaded young human put his finger to his lips in a universal "don't scream" gesture, then he beckons her over away from the party. Novos has disappeared again, and everyone else is intent on trying to see through the heat waves and ash rising from the river of red gelatinous goop. Zander or Felicity are busy arguing with the voice, so slipping away from the group, Dillium ducks around the corner with the man.
Up close, she sees he has a misshapen face and is slightly stooped. Looking at his eyes, she decides he sees poorly--if at all--from his left eye. His complexion is ruddy in a way that nearly obscures the freckles all over his face and neck, and his shocking red hair seems nearly too bright to be natural. Now that she gets a good look at him, Dillium thinks he might be near his thirtieth year. For all of being a bit hunch-backed, he doesn't seem to have any problem moving around. His low voice speaks to habitual whispering.
"You are of Ilmater? My gran said that a cleric in a horse-hair shirt saved his life after the battle at Goliad Ford [2]. He would give coppers to the monks that came through, and often gave them food. Can I trust you?"
The simple sincerity in his voice, and his look of concern and dread touch Dillium, and she nods. He beckons her further away from the group, but he doesn't seem to have any weapons on him so she follows. Slipping silently back through the rubble of the half-collapsed hall, the pair returns to the cell where the dead are still chained to the wall. He pays them no mind. He does leave the door open a sliver, though. Seating himself on the floor next to a burned-out fire, he speaks.
"My name is Febis. Look, I'm sorry for before. He doesn't like visitors, and I can't just go and tell the Hand that they can't use this place for their hide-out anymore. We only just got here when he showed up. He's not bad, once you get to know him. He sometimes brings me food if he killed too many sheep, and he doesn't come in this part of the cavern because he can't turn around right. Only you can't insult him or he gets very mad, and he sometimes can't control his temper. It really just would be better if you and your friends go."
Too many "he's" and "they's" for her to sort out. It's like Febis assumes she already knows who they all are. “Slow down, and start over,” Dillium says gently. “Who is ‘he’?”
Febis says that ‘he’ is a monstrous red dragon that calls himself The Mighty Flamestrike. He arrived in a blast of wind and a clatter of claws on the stone floor, and he made himself at home in the main hall. He likes the heat from the lava, and sometimes lays down on top of it, sinking slowly into it. During one of the recent earthshakes part of the roof caved in, and Flamestrike took up residence high up in some hollowed-out caves near the ceiling. Febis has never been up there, but Flamestrike sometimes leaves in the evening to go hunting, and returns before dawn.
Febis is a member of the Dread Order of the Ebon Hand, the most dangerous gang of bandits this side of the Assassin's Citadel. What do you mean you've never heard of them? They have been the most feared bandit gang in the country's history. Although, he hastens to add, he's only been with the gang since he left home in Helmsdale this spring. He hated being a farmer and he can't ride a horse [3] (and some of the soldiers made fun of him), so there really isn't anything else for him to do.
The Hand found the entrance to this cavern complex two or three months ago, and they moved in. It makes a great base to bandit from. Cletus says that it was carved out by dwarves. Fatima, the captain of the Hand, has been working on getting the place cleaned up, and is looking to be able to give everyone their own areas in which to live. That was easier before Flamestrike came along. Since his arrival, the Hand have been hiding in terror from the dragon, who sometimes plays with them "like a cat with a mouse", blowing fire down the corridor and making the whole complex shake. Fatima has been trying to get them to attack Flamestrike, but the last time they tried, Willie and Franso were badly burned and pelted with rocks dropping from the ceiling. Father Michael took days to heal them all the way back to health.
Febis himself was the second of the Hand caught by the dragon, but instead of eating him, the dragon talked to him, and made friends with Febis. Now Febis comes and goes as he pleases, but he knows that the dragon's temper is such that he could end up as a snack if he crosses The Mighty Flamestrike.
***
Novos does the thing where he disappears. Zipping across the chasm, he notes that there are nearly a dozen “thugs”, along with some armored war mastiffs. Bedrolls and a cot line one wall, and a makeshift cook stove is in the back corner. An archway leads off into the darkness. The thugs are not particularly ready for battle—they are indifferently armored and have a bevy of non-uniform weapons, but none of them have them raised as if they were ready to use them. There are several debates ongoing, and two of the thugs are wrestling.
Returning to the group, Novos quickly gives a report. Arthur asks Zander to move, and he leads the way across the bridge.
“CEASE!” A ripple flows through the Weave as a spell is cast, and the two wrestlers climb to their feed sheepishly. Before they know it, the entire party is on their side of the chasm, face to face.
“Go AWAY! WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE. You are invading our home!” A crossbow bolt accompanies the demand, but it misses everyone. Without the heat shimmer, Novos can finally make out his assailant through what appears to be an opening above and to the right of the large cave. She is peering out behind a large metal structure with carvings etched on it.
The thugs are still bickering amongst themselves to some extent, but only a few of them tentatively raise their weapons.
Another ripple in the Weave, and the thugs generally calm down, losing some of the edge in their bickering. Unfortunately, nothing calms the shooter, who manages to put a bolt into Novos. Novos shoots back, hitting the woman. In response, the several of the bandits reach out to stop Novos from attacking their captain.
***
“My friends and I are here at the request of the dwarves in Ironspur. They are worried that someone here was attempting to restart the forge, which is… haunted or something? They didn’t get into details. Have you seen it?”
"Forge? I don't know about that, but there is a big iron thingy up near where Fatima beds down. It kinda’ looks like something Jeran the Smith from my village might use. We don't do anything with it, but it's useful to put stuff on when we're eating. I mean, there's no chairs or nothin, but we can stand up and eat. Sometimes we just eat near the campfire, though."
"So, you aren't working the forge, or trying to craft things?" Dillium asks patiently.
"Gerk sometimes uses it to bang the dents of armor pieces, or to try to sharpen swords and stuff, but he doesn't have a hammer, so normally he just uses an iron bar to smack the back of armor piece. Sometimes it works."
Dillium explains that some of the people in Damara are worried about another war with Vaasa (“like the one with the Lich King”), and they are looking for allies who are willing to lend aid. Perhaps the Hand would like to assist?
Febis tells her in his own simple way that most of the men don’t want to be in a war. They’ve seen the soldiers in Helmsdale with their shiny armor and fancy horses, and they don’t have any of that stuff. “Being in a battle sounds dangerous. Besides, that sounds like we’d have to stop banditing, and that’s kinda’ fun sometimes. Maybe some of the guys might want to go legit, but Fatima just wants to keep us safe.”
“You know, the Hand could become an adventuring or mercenary group too. That way you all could be making money by completing different contracts. While it may not be as fun as being a bandit, it’s more sustainable for you all,” Dillium reasons.
"Don't you have to get a paper from the queen to be a mercenary group? And aren't those hard? I heard there was a group that had to fight like a whole lot of orcs once [4]. That's almost like being in a battle."
“Hmm. I guess I could see that, though there may come a time when you have to decide which side you’re on, just like your gran did.” After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dillium continues. She wonders aloud why the dragon likes Febis more than the others, and if there is a way to make everyone happy—to perhaps speak to Flamestike, to free the Hand from his torment, and for them to look over the forge for the dwarves.
"I don't know why he likes me more than the others. Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe it's on account of my hair being the same color as he is. Maybe it's because I don't call him names and stuff. Sometimes he comes out and talks to me about his brothers and how he's going to get his revenge on them all some day. Delfus used to talk to me that way when we lived in Helmsdale. His pa used to beat him when he didn't milk the cow in the morning, or dropped the egg basket. Delfus and I are good friends. He's the one who convinced me to join the Hand."
“What happened with his brothers that makes him want revenge on them? Who are his brothers?” Despite her need to keep on track, Dillium’s curiosity overcomes her.
"Oh, he doesn't like to talk about them. I guess brother stuff? I only have sisters, and they are annoying. Perhaps they called him names, or didn't want to use his whole name. Maybe they fart in the nest. Do dragons have nests? I heard that they lay eggs..."
***
Wordlessly, the party springs into action. There is a ripple in the Weave, and half of the bandits fall to the floor in a deep slumber, their war dogs with them. Arthur strides through the sleeping bodies to one who didn’t go down, and he slashes him from shoulder to hip. Momentarily surprised, the man falls to the floor, lifeless. His dog growls. Zander steps forward to face off against two other bandits. Two quick slashes and they fall to the floor. Novos disappears, then makes his way up to the opening where the crossbow shooter is taking aim at Felicity. She misses. The remaining bandit gestures, the Weave ripples from him, and a bolt of light streaks across the room to smash into Arthur’s back. The dog snaps at Arthur but misses. Novos reappears and stabs the crossbow-wielding woman in the back. Enraged, she pulls out a saber and slashes in vain at Novos. Before Novos can stab her again, Felicity pulls out a wand and fires an arc of electricity at the woman, killing her. The one-sided battle is over.
Quickly, Arthur and Zander bind up the four slumbering bandits and their war dogs. Felicity reaches into her purse and slides some gold into each of their coin pouches.
***
Novos peers around. He’s seen forges before, and this looks something like one, except instead of a standard coal-fired furnace, there is a trickle of red-hot lava, dribbling down a hole in the wall and forming a small rivulet through a makeshift furnace before falling off down the side of the cavern wall and into the lava river below. The forge area is cleaned out. There are pegs on the walls, presumably for tools, but they are bare, as are a pair of stout metal tables. Shrugging, Novos heads down a set of stairs and through a dark hallway. Some distance down, he spies a darker alcove, and in that alcove, a doorway. Pushing open the door, he sees bags, boxes, and barrels. One bag has conveniently fallen over, spilling its contents of coins onto the floor. “Hey! I found something!” He shouts.
***
"He doesn't much like visitors. I don't think he wants to talk to anyone. It's too bad they can't get along. Maybe The Mighty Flamestrike could go out with the Hand and help them find wagons to bandit, and then perhaps he could eat the horses after we bring the wagons back and get all the stuff? I don't think he wants to do that, though. It would be nice if all my friends could get along. Fatima would love to have a real dragon helping. I bet we could bandit like two wagons at a time!"
Dillium responds. "If we could help the Hand find a new place to live, how would they get out without ... Flamestrike—"
Febis interrupts. "The Mighty Flamestrike. He likes you to use his whole name."
"Fine, the mighty Flamestrike--"
"No, no. You're not doing it right. You have to use the whole thing. The Mighty Flamestrike. Here, you try it. The Mighty Flamestrike."
"The Mighty Flamestrike."
"Good! I knew you was smart!" Dillium sighs heavily.
"So, if my other friends and I could find a new place for the Hand to live, and perhaps a job so they could go legit, how would they get out of here without The Mighty Flamestrike eating them?"
"I suppose they could wait until he goes out to hunt, then leave real quick like in the middle of the night. He wouldn't be here to eat them, and if they went far away before dawn he wouldn't get them."
"You keep saying 'they'. Wouldn't you want to go with the Hand?"
"Yeah! I mean, I would be sad that The Mighty Flamestrike wouldn't have any friends left. Maybe he would let me come back and visit him?"
“I don’t really understand why he keeps the Hand here if he doesn’t like them.. but I am sure that he would be happy to have a friend like you visit him if the Hand does leave. It does seem like it would be lonely here in the mountains by himself…” Dillium trails off, waiting on a response.
“I think he lets the Hand stay here for something to do, but he really doesn't keep them here. They are just ascared of him on account of the breathing fire and all.
“I think I would like to come and visit him sometimes. Maybe I could bring him a sheep. He likes sheep."
***
Just as they are finishing tying up the bandits, they begin to wake. “Wha… what happened?” One of them sees Zander puling the dead and bleeding bodies off to the side. “Murderers! You murdered them!” “They killed Willie!” “You Bastards!” “Look, they murdered the Captain!”
“Arthur addresses them. “Hush. You are alive. That is enough. You attacked us, and we responded.”
“You murdered them in cold blood!” one of the braver bandits spits.
“If your captain is now dead, who’s the new captain of your company?” Zander asks.
“uh…..”
“Cletus!” “What? I don’t want—” “Cletus is!” “But I don’t—”
“Fine. Do you give your parole? If so we shall untie you.” Arther towers above the one that responded as Cletus.
“I don’t even have a payroll yet. How do I…” Felicity unties the group. Climbing to their feet, they leave the ropes on the ground. Blood coats the floor from the dead, and Zander’s dragging activity has spread around even more blood.
“Hey! I found something!” shouts Novos. His voice sounds like it comes from the archway to the left. Arthur tells Felicity and Zander to stay with the bandits while he goes to see what is the matter.
***
Dillium pauses for a second.
“Febus… are you by any chance the Mighty Flamestrike?”
"Me? No! He's my friend. He's big and beautiful and scary and eats people. I'm just... me. Besides, he's all big and scaly. I'm not scaly!" He pauses a moment.
"Sometimes I dream about flying, though."
“Ah, sorry. It’s just that the Mighty Flamestrike isn’t the only dragon we’ve encountered in our journey. I know you’ve said plenty of times before that the Mighty Flamestrike doesn’t like visitors and after what happened I understand. I’d like to apologize to him on behalf of my friends.” Dillium takes a deep breath. “They attacked him… do you think he’ll let me try to heal him? Being able to create some form of middle ground between us all would be beneficial, don’t you think? I may be able to convince my party to leave…”
"It's ~T~he Mighty Flamestrike. You have to say his name right if you ever want to talk to him." Febis mutters under his breath, "Man, I thought elfs were supposed to be smart."
"Anyway, they attacked The Mighty Flamestrike? And they're still alive? How many of them got burned up? How can you heal a big giant dragon like that? I thought they had to have an arrow in them or something for you to heal him? If he's hurt he's probably going to be very cross indeed. I don’t know if he will want to talk at all, but I guess we could try..."
“Well, there’s no harm in trying right? Do you think you can try to help me meet The Mighty Flamestrike?”
"There IS harm in trying. If he's mad, he'll just fire us, and fire us good. Or drop us in the hot rocks. He can do that. I could see if he wants to come down, but I don't know if he will."
“If you could please, that would mean a lot to me… I can meet him on my own unless you’d like to join me, but if you’re worried about getting flamed then I don’t blame you. I’d like a chance to right the wrongs that have happened today. Perhaps we should meet him in a room more accessible for him…”
***
Arthur appears in the doorway as Novos looks around the dimly lit room. “Loot! I’m sure this will pay some bills.”
“We’ll need to figure out how to get all this out of here—”
“Ahem.” A voice from behind Arthur. “I’ll have you know that this is the lawfully acquired possessions of the Hand, and are not for you to go carting it all off. I know exactly how much is in here, and I won’t see you take a copper, do you hear! We know our rights!”
Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose. This has the makings of an even longer day.
A couple of the remaining members of the bandits pile into the room. “Hey! Keep your hands off our stuff. It’s ours!”
Arthur turns on his heel and heads back toward the main room, but … something isn’t right. The wall along the corridor is caved in, but there’s something… odd. Climbing up on top of the pile, he notices heat and light coming through a crack. He pulls some rubble away and can clearly see another room beyond.
“Hey, that stuff in there is ours, too!” Cletus says.
***
"Oh, he won't go any further than the main hall. He doesn't want to get stuck, and he can't turn around very well in the smaller rooms." Febis pauses for a moment. "How will you keep from getting fired? He might be very angry."
Dillium pats his arm. “I’ll figure something out.”
"I could go out and call him and see if he will come down, I guess."
“To be completely honest Febus the only thing I have to protect myself from the flames is hope and faith. Is the main hall where the rest of my friends are? I have instinctual knowledge that if they are there then this whole plan won’t work… I really do appreciate you doing this for me. It’s very kind of you.”
"Is instinctual knowledge some fancy elf thing, or a fancy priest thing?”
“Hmm I would say the instinctual knowledge has come from spending nearly every waking moment of my journey so far with roughly the same people… their habits are frighteningly predictable and in some cases, suicidal.”
Febus nods. “Do you need to rest, or uhm... eat a last meal or something?"
Dillium sighs. “While rest and a meal would be great, I fear that time is not our friend.”
***
Pulling enough of the rubble away to fit his bulk through, Arthur scrapes his armor on the rock as he slides down into the next room. This one is very hot, and is dimly lit by a seeping pool of lava in the corner. After a moment, Novos slides down next to him. “Whatcha find?” he asks unnecessarily.
A head pokes up from the lava. Then another. Sensing fresh food, a group of bulky snake-like creatures slither out of the lava pool and make their way over to Arthur and Novos. Soundlessly they attack. Arthur slashes, but is badly burned by the heat given off by the creatures. Novos too tries to slash with his dagger, but the heat is too much. He falls back behind Arthur. Arthur calls out for aid, and with a mighty hack and a movement of the Weave, a tremendous roar of thunder smashes through the snakes, temporarily deafening everyone, including the two bandits who have followed.
“All our stuff.” Cletus intones when he can hear again.
***
“What was that?” Felicity asks in alarm.
“Dunno. Let’s find out,” Zander replies. The two race toward the pile of rubble in the corridor.
***
Febis stands. "If you're sure I can't talk you out of it..." He opens the door and steps through it.
Suddenly a huge thunder blast echoes through the cavern. It is definitely not a cave-in, or the clash of rock on ... anything, but rather the sound of a huge lightning strike hitting nearby. The sound is briefly deafening. It sounds like it came from the cavern where the Hand was last seen, rather than the direction of the main hall. There's the sound of distant yelling from the same direction.
Febis is startled. He looks off in the direction of the party (and his friends). "Oh, that's not good." Moments later, there is a roar from the direction of the main hall. "Very not good."
“Febis I believe you and I share the very same sentiment there- Uhhh change of plans. Let’s make sure our friends here don’t kill each other. Stay close to me, sound good?”
***
The eight humans look around. Apart from the lava pool and the very hot corpses of the snake creatures (everyone moves away from them), the room contains what Arthur, Novos and Zander identify as grave goods. They are similar to the urns, carvings, and paintings in the tomb they invaded in Ironspur. In fact, there is a fancy dwarven sarcophagus and an ornate hammer atop. Across is the carved family tree that stretches for nearly a thousand years, ending nearly three centuries before (in the dwarven calendar). Taking it all in, Arthur’s eye catches on some oddity. A misalignment of patterns on one wall. “Secret door,” he says. Novos checks quickly for traps, then pushes open the door.
Inside, two carved stone dwarves shamble to life. Raising their bronze axes, they silently stalk toward Novos and Arthur as Zander and Felicity look on in horror.
***
Grabbing Febis by the hand, Dillium quickly but cautiously makes her way back down the corridor. She passes through the outer chamber with the well that leads down to lava, and sees the rickety wooden bridge over the chasm that is still producing heat haze and ash. Nobody is visible on the other side. Quickly she slips across the bridge and into chaos.
Blood covers the floor. The dead bodies of several of the Hand, along with their war mastiffs, are pushed over to one side. Several ropes cut into ten or twelve foot lengths lie on the floor. Looking around, she sees a large room. A campfire and makeshift cooking stove are in the far corner. Bedrolls and a cot line one wall. There's what appears to be some sort of shrine along the back wall. An archway on the opposite wall leads off into darkness.
"DELFUS! What happened?" Febis runs over to the corpse of his childhood friend, slashed from shoulder to hip by a single broad stroke. The last of his blood pools on the floor, but the blood strewn across the floor makes it very much appear that he and the others were dragged from another part of the room. "And Gerk! And Father Michael!" Tears pour down Febis' face as he comes to grips with the loss of his only (human) friends, apparently savagely butchered. Sitting down on the cold floor oblivious to the standing blood, Febis cradles the lifeless head of his friend.
Meanwhile, the muffled sounds of battle are heard through the open archway.
"I thought you were going to be my friend," Febis cries to Dillium bitterly.
Dillium quickly checks the bodies. All have been dead for ten or fifteen minutes, beyond a simple revival. Dillium leaves Febis to his grief and dashes toward the open archway. On the other side is a moderately-sized room with rubble strewn around. It appears that one wall has collapsed. There is a hole at the top where some of the rubble has been pushed away, leaving a man-sized space to squeeze under the lintel of a hidden doorway. There is a dim red light (so, more lava), and voices. Dillium hears the sound of metal on stone and the grunts of men in battle. Scampering lightly up the pile of loose stones and rubble, she scootches through the hole at the top, sliding down the other side. There she finds several unknown people who are watching Arthur, Zander, and Novos in battle. As she arrives, the last of some sort of animated stone statues crumble to pebbles. Arthur's armor is scorched down one side, and he limps slightly. Novos is barely on his feet, and as Dillium arrives, he sinks to his knees, panting. Zander sheathes his sword, and Felicity puts away a wand. Three grubby men and what might charitably be called a woman (under many layers of dirt and grime) stand around, unarmed.
"Now you remember, all this is the lawful property of our company. You don't go gettin light fingers now," says one of the Hand in the most "southern drawl" Damaran accent ever.

End of Chapter 8

[1] Based very loosely on Fire Forge Caves by Dungeon Baker in FiveE magazine https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/367470/fivee-magazine-august-2021
[2] https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Ford_of_Goliad
[3] The duke has a company of cavalry barracked just outside Helmsdale.
[4] Probably too far away for it to have been the party, back when they were called Dragon Force in Chapter 32. On the other hand, maybe it was?

Call me the Memetranslator, because I speak fluent Meme and can explain every Meme. In reality all of this is nonesense though, so do not take anything here seriously. Also I am not affiliated with anyone, including DFV. Interpreting Art, even Memes, is always from the point of view of an observer and very often has little to do with the authors intention. So just to be extra clear, the title is not meant to be taken seriously. I do not know everything and we will see that within the next 10 hours! Because the last meme DFV posted I translate as a "you know what to do and goodbye", so if we see DFV posting on the 17th, we will KNOW that I am wrong, just a heads up.
Also I will write everything a bit more boringly, so nobody gets swept up in some rallying speech. You will see why!
Meme #1: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791106334517010680 We are told whats happening now is a game, maybe meaning the price developement and the downtrend at this moment on this day. We are shown the hats from the prestige that are duplicated, meaning probably the tons of extra shares that the shorts created. Then we are told that those are the inciting incident, the Catalyst. The Kansas City Shuffle, per explanation in that movie, is going left when told to go right. The Kansas City Shuffle explanation in reality is a sheme, where you trick someone, that knows he is being tricked, with basically another trick, that involves the victim working towards their own demise to not fall for what they think the trick is. So a two part Plan that needs the victim to try to protect themselves against Plan A, leading to fruition of Plan B. Thing is, in the Movie, after the guy looks into the direction that bruce willis points at, his neck is snapped. So the "Made you Look" in the end sounds quite sinister.
So here is the thing, the Kansas City shuffle basically destroys the victim through an action that they do to safeguard themselves against a perceived Plan 1 against them. what is Plan 1 and what is Plan 2 of the Kansas City Shuffle in our situation? We know they are trying to trick us and they need us to take ourselves out of the picture.
You guys are not going to like this, but this points towards Enemies from within and some rules that we use may lead towards us destroying ourselves. Probably rules that shills introduced to "safeguard", when in reality it was what destroyed us.
So which rules on our subreddit could that be? I guess we will see later, but you guys are not going to like it.
Meme #2: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791110102797172804
The Bride is surrounded by enemies and bloodied up, while a song tells us, noone can basically dance like I do. This could point towards Either DFV telling us we should only listen to him, because he is the only memelord that can do it right. But the bride is not Cat-coded. So it may point to every investor having to make decisions for himself, as nobody can do those decisions for them. Or in Short: Do not listen to the voices on the internet, do your own research and make your own decisions. And definetly do not listen to other Memers other than DFV, if the other interpretation floats your boat more. Unfortunately both versions tell you to not listen to people like me :-)
Meme #3: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791113879684325383
"Pay strict attention to what I say because I choose my words carefully and I never repeat myself!" And then we see a Cat, looking from behind a wall. DFV codes himself as a cat. This may be him speaking to us to pay attention!
Meme #4: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791117652276195516 Just Dance on the radio is important for later memes, as dancing will be coded later. Michael Scott comes back, Britney tells us she is losing her mind without "you". I think that "you" refers to Kitty and we are britney, bitch. We are back, not that something is happening and we have been losing our mind without DFV. We want him to give us a sign, ONE MORE TIME. The "g" in "sign" is a symbol from the movie "Signs" that will appear in later memes. He is telling us, that if we are waiting for a sign with our investment, he will post something from the movie "Signs".
Meme #5: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791121430836584789 Keith Gill, the cat in the trenchcoat comes back with his writings/Memes. And he awakens R.C. and his dog. And it seems like Bears/Shorts should watch out now, cause they got something brewing. Following the last meme, it seems DFV comes back because the investors need him and ask him for a sign.
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Meme #6: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791125203147428066 "We need a language for us two, we dont need to describe" tells us, that he uses the meme-speech, because we understand it without the need to describe it. Though I have to say, apparently that is not the case as not everybody is fluent in Memeology. It could mean he is only speaking to those that talk his language, understand him and dance with him. Dancing comes up as a motif again.
"Everytime you call on me I drop what I do, you are my best friend and we have shit to shoot." could mean us and DFV. Or at least DFV and those who understand him need to do some shit. Freakish dancing behaviour is shown, which is a callback to the "where the freaks at"-meme and for the upcoming next game. It is somewhat a call to action, to get a little crazy
Meme #7: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791128976632459643 "No were never gonna survive unless we are a little crazy" So that is a definete call to action to get a little crazy, which is apparently needed in this our endevour. It may also be a call-out of a jungle-subreddit and a call to action to unleash some crazyness.... which would be something they condone.
Meme #8: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791132751976120778 This is from the movie SIGNS. If you have been waiting for a sign, this is it. (but to do what..... later....) Roaring Kitty appears like a stalker villain in this, which codes Mel Gibson as the shorts, as he is afraid of kitty.
Meme #9: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791136527801807077 Another scene from the movie "Signs". Doubling down, that this is a sign to do something right NOW. In this meme, it is talked about that you are to decide wether you believe in coincidences and that people get lucky or if you see the signs and BELIEVE! Now, as there are several "Signs"-Memes after this, this specific moment seems to be important. Looking at the trading going on during that time, its set during the lowest point on the day. THIS is one of the reasons I delayed posting this Post. Because if these Memes show us the point for us to BUY, as its the lowest price of the day, it would be hard to argue in the moment. However, as we already have AfterHours Price action, we can see, that the stock did go lower in the after hours. So my interpretation or DFV is definetly wrong or he only meant "during market hours", as most people can not trade in the after hours or he means an instrument that can only be used during market hours..... (Yes... that financial instrument. I will come back to that later)
Meme #9: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791140301895352325 So basically another scene from the movie signs. Where he says "STOP" and then two aliens seem to be talking. And he is listening in. So somebody is listening in to two entities talking. As Mel Gibson was coded as an adversary to Kitty in the first meme, I assume it continues. So it may be Shorts trying to listen to DFV talking through memes with Reddit.
Meme #10: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791144075963298165 Signs again! the Boy that was listening to two entities shows us the Sign of Gamestop. Gamestop seems to leave some massive signs... right now? So did Gamestop leave a sign for us somehow? Is this related to the buyback that was marked as such? (see Peruvian Bulls twitter on the day of DFVs return)
Meme #11: Signs again: Opinions are this is genuine. And then Kitty appears. Again, this codes the family as the shorts. The sign from gamestop and Kitty appearing seem to be no coincidence. It is a SIGN!!!! So basically this: If you do see the signs, it is your interpretation to see them as coincidences or as a genuine sign. Decide on your own! Ball is in your court..... But what he is telling us is basically that THIS IS IT YOU GUYS! ITS HAPPENING! YOU NEED TO ACT NOW!!! (this is only my translation, it is not a call to action by me, I just read it as one by DFV)
Meme #12: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791151631259574559 "What does it mean? The thing you just said?" - "Come on, I'll show you some more stuff" Basically it is redditors asking DFV what he means with the thing he just said and him not explaining and showing us more stuff. So do not expect an explanation by DFV EVER.... Which is a bit sad, but there it is. I see a pattern of him wanting people to decide on their own and doing their own due dilligence, but believing in the signs that pop up and that those are not coincidences.
Meme #13: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791155401091596494 It continues from the last meme, that instead of being a usual investor, with an investment thesis, he prefers to make memes. Which is him doubling down on him not explaining himself with his memes.
Meme #13; https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791159177785770273 DFV is sitting there, making Memes. But its just a matter of time.
Meme #14: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791162950373527857 He is doing his duty (due dilligence). If you want to party/invest with him, you have to do a certain thing. He wants to see our Hands (Diamond Hands) where he can see them, which is not reddit, but the stock market.... though normal orders do not go through..... could he mean options, as those go through to a lit market? "Straight buckwhylin in the place to be"... there is a place to be..... so there is also a place to not be. Market vs options Market maybe? And he asks again "If you REALLY want to party with me".... so you better be DAMN sure you really want to do this before you decide to party with him. And he really stresses that part.... you NEED to be fucking sure!*
Meme #15: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791166726891061749 So you wanna be a Sicario? Here is where I get the options impression from. All the memes before, the options talk was added after this and one other meme. This meme is really fucking serious compared to everything that has come before. The Symbol for a certain forbidden subreddit is shown. That subreddit is known for one thing and one thing only: Absolute degenerate Options Plays. Mainly 0DTEs, but NOT ONLY THOSE!!!!! I will not explain 0DTE as you should not do those if you need that term explained.
Welcome to the fucking Darkside..... its degenerate Options that DFV made this Gamestop thing with. This is what is expected if you want to party with him. (NOTE by OP: Remember that DFV did use options, but they were VERY far out expiring options.... like 2 years out.... -> DO NOT JUMP INTO 0DTE OPTIONS BECAUSE OF ANYONE ELSE BUT YOUR OWN DECISIONS AND DUE DILLIGENCE <- 0DTE Options en masse broke the market in 2021, but now "they" will probably know how to handle those, so really think about if that would really have any effect)
Meme #16: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791170783277949042 Cramer wanted 2 folding chairs in a DFV meme. DFV Tells him "You wont stop what is coming" and a train drives through those chairs. Then Stonecold Steve Austin enters the Ring and punches a bunch of people in a royal rumble. Meaning there is a very chaotic fight coming up with one Motherfucker going through everyone like a freight train. That may be the investors or DFV.
Meme #17: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791174276604699013 DFV/The investor is taking both hands of the wheel, he listens to the music without Fear. The Music is what is happening at this moment and whats coming up. Signals and everything. And you can do it too, if you are really honestly listening. He is a punk rocker. This will be continued next meme.
Meme #18: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791178049939182048 So apparently being a Rocker is not about chicks and drugs and things connected to "lifestyle". Its about sticking it to the MAN. Which is the construct that is our financial system. DFV/the investor is not in this for the money anymore. This is Gamestop-Investors against the crooked financial system.
Meme #19: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791181824754106742
Cars playing chicken. And winning. Investors need to play chicken with a bigger adversary.... and win. DFV tells us he needs us to be fearless.... and he needs us to win. He is not done though.... because the big guys WILL BLINK!
Meme #20: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791185600453783688 DFV Shows us his accomplishemnts and tells us that a lot of bullshit is happening right now. But under all the paperwork and numbers and stuff, you can see a story. Shorts never closed, Gamestop does the killing shot and soon... take your pick. But if you do not go through the information YOURSELF, you will not reach what DFV did accomplish. Thing is, among those rewards, the one that is tapped on is the one for "DEGEN OF THE MONTH", again with the mascot of that gambling subreddit. This also points towards option plays being the play that he expects to be necessary for people that party with him.
Meme #21: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791189376195854606 Kitty is showing us what music he is listening to that we need to hear, changing our lives. Dont FEAR the REAPER. This follows up the dancing and the Music motif and also continues the "Playing chicken" motif.... He tells us to not be afraid of DEATH/Total Wipeout (I do not condone this message myself, I think people need to be careful and think about their actions).
Meme #22: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791193149408223306 Continues the meme where the boy coded as DFV draw dicks. A degen gambler tries to find out the plan by COHEN (R.C.) and finds out, that he is also just drawing dicks. So DFV and R.C. seem to think alike. Both are memeing definetly.
Meme #23: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791196925619789864 Mainstream media and a former SEC Chairman wants to wipe the justice system alike and asks if "we should tolerate" tweets by DFV. DFV sees this as an attack. And it is a very clear threat and definetly a declaration of war against normal people by the Financial "Elite" and especially freedom of speech and DFV.
Meme #24: https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1791257325451493396 DFV/Jason Bourne tells us he is under attack and as "they" know who and where he is, he is afraid he is going to be made an example. This continues the last meme with the very open threat of not tolerating what he is doing, legality aside. He can not ride with us anymore and needs to figure stuff out. So he drives into a tunnel with an "EXIT STRATEGY" sign (in frensh) and then we see ... in a continuation in the movie "drive", where he loses his Driver persona and becomes a normal person to dissolve into a crowd.
So there you have it. I think this was the last DFV Tweet for a while, because of recent MSM events. We will see if I interpreted correctly by market begin.
TLDR: DFV Tells us if we are waiting for a sign, THIS IS THE Sign! To do what? Apparently degenerate Options. (Though his options hat a far out expiry date, so nowhere does it say 0DTEs are the way!) Also he takes his exit from posting openly for a while.
I think everything has been said.
Personal OP-annotation: I tried to stay as close to the memes as possible, this is the translation I came up with. They do not line up with my personal views on Options though, as I think most people here do not understand them at all and should not be using them. Also remember, Interpretations are always different from authors intent. I think DFV will not post again for a while, we will see that I am wrong in about 10 hours. If I am wrong, I will keep this post up, so everyone can see how wrong I was.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for everything!