Hello everyone! I'm looking for a notebook with specific dimensions and qualities that so far I haven't been able to find anywhere. I'm probably gonna pour out my entire life story but please do me a solid and hear me out.
In my next notebook I'm planning to map out and document my life for the coming 6 to 12 months, literally writing the book of my life with the odd doodle or chart. For this reason I'm looking for a larger size, high page count notebook. I've used A5 notebooks my whole life, but I'm planning to upsize to B5 if possible, to add some heft and make it feel more like a book. Additionally I'm looking for something with a load of pages, 400, 500 maybe more, would be ideal. In terms of paper quality I'm looking for something ideally at least 80gsm, blank, low transparency, as I like to write fairly densely and with a medium nib fountain pen that writes quite wet.
To give you an idea of where I'm coming from here's what I have tried in the past and what I liked/disliked about them:

• Moleskine - I know they have a 400 page notebook but it's smaller than A5 and the paper quality is hot garbage imo, out of question.
• Clairefontaine flying spirit notebooks - I loved the smoothness of the paper but doesn't come in high page counts. I considered getting a few, stripping the cover, and stitching and them together to form a big notebook but as it's a heavy paper my desired page count would make a notebook over 5 cm thick.
• Rhodia white paper / hard cover notebook, forgot the exact name: again great quality smooth paper but a bit too bright and white for my eyes, low sheet count.
• Peter Pauper press: my favourite by far in terms of writing experience, very heavy, smooth and dense paper with zero feathering and little to no transparency even with gushing pen and ink and still dries very quickly. My only gripe if I have to name one is paper colour, it's a bit too ivory for a vivid blue ink (Diamine sargasso sea) to look great on it. Also they only come with heavily designed covers, no subtle black or navy options and low-ish sheet counts. But the same property that makes its quality is why it wouldn't be practical in high page counts, even if it were available.
• Montblanc 146: I used these the longest because of overall quality, a bit scratchier feedback than PPP/Clairefontaine and less dense than I think would be my ideal, so it's a bit too transparent for my liking but if I had to use one for the rest of my life I'd go with this. My main issue is the price/value ratio, we know 2/3 of the €80 price is the little button on the front cover. The 163 (nearer B5 size) isn't available with plain paper though. If anyone knows a manufacturer with the same/similar paper please let me know regardless of formats!

Based on what I've tried so far, my ideal notebook would be as follows (possible compromises in brackets):

• Around 500 pages but no thicker than 5cm overall (400 or even 300 is great if every other criteria is met)
• B5 size (A5 is more realistic for all other criteria to be met, I know)
• 80 to 100 gsm cream coloured, blank, rather smooth low feedback paper (anything acceptable from odd/dirty white to not too yellow ivory, as long as it's blank and has little to no feedback/resistance. Would even go lighter to a 52/68gsm Tomoe River paper if only that is available.)
• Soft leather cover (doesn't matter much, could even be hard or thin cardboard for all that matters, I'll be getting a custom leather cover for protection and added feel/heft.)
• Milled/produced/crafted in EU, certified, organic chemicals free all the jazz. (I understand there are very few mills and presses left in the EU, but I'd prefer local manufacture on principle. Exception is Japanese paper or even North Am. made if it's widely distributed in the EU.)

Finally, here's what I've found so far and am actually considering:

• Leuchtturm1917 B5 notebook - I'm considering this because it's an established brand so they'll likely be around in case I fall in love. If it had more pages I'd have already ordered this guy.
• This 300 page B5 Tomoe River notebook off Etsy - I only heard good things about TR paper, I'm willing to try it even if not my conceived ideal, plus bound in Italy, yay! He also makes 400 page A5 notebooks so I might go with that, though that's about 20% less net writing area.
• Odyssey notebook, A5 but with 500 pages, 68gsm Tomoe River paper - would be the first contender but it ships from USA (slow and costly), does anyone know of a EU distributor?
• I briefly looked at blank books such as this one but printing paper and fountain pens don't mix and I couldn't reach this particular seller for info. Also based on ads there seems to be a host of these, even in my preferred specs, on Temu, Ali etc, but I'm not even clicking on sites like that, I hope that goes without explanation.
• At this point I'm even considering going the full distance and binding my own frickin notebook if I could find (and try / read reviews of) the absolute most ideal paper as described above - which I cannot seem to. Any idea where to even look for blank paper in the EU?

So my sincere question to the community is, do you know of any other notebook brands that could suit my needs, what's your experience with them if any, and where I might order for quick EU delivery? Any comments or help is much appreciated, and thank you for reading!

I finished another Radiant Dawn run on the hardest difficulty and felt the bug to talk about tier listing again. Thanks for indulging me. My list:
https://i.imgur.com/8d4aPNg.png
Some commentary, from worst to best.
F Tier:
Lyre - This character has literally nothing going for her. Lyre has terrible bases, the worst class in the game, bad growths, and no endgame potential beyond being a mediocre filler unit. I can't imagine a worse character in Fire Emblem. Maybe Sophia. Even if you wanted to do an all-Laguz run, she can't crack the top 10. She isn't even force deployed on any maps. I cannot think of a single positive thing to say about Lyre.
Fiona - With even worse bases than Lyre and a baffling availability schedule, Fiona should be the worst unit in the game, but at least her class is solid. Female Silver Knight has bad caps overall, but good weapon types, speed, and a top-tier mastery talent. If you can endure the grind, you can make a unit with real contributions in the endgame. I feel like the game designers hate this unit, though; they make her arrive in a map themed around rescuing, but don't even let you recruit her to do any rescuing. The very next map is indoors. After that, we go to a swamp which is once again themed around rescuing, but Fiona isn't even available! After that? Another indoor map! Then another swamp! Then more cliffs! 3-13 is considered an indoor map and penalizes horse units! Literally the first map with wide open spaces to take advantage of cavalry classes that allows you to deploy Fiona is in Part 4. Her class level and bases are even bugged (allegedly). I can't believe how this game is engineered to ruin Fiona, and it's a miracle that she isn't the worst unit in the entire game.
Kyza - While he can be crafted into a tolerable lategame unit (better than many on this list who rank higher), there just isn't any reason to do so. He's got a terrible class (only cat laguz are worse), bad bases, and joins in a big pile of units that are a hundred times better at everything he can do. Need a tank? You've already got Brom and Gatrie on the team, and they don't untransform halfway through enemy phase. Kyza has the crown for most forgettable, pointless unit, but at least if you do train him for the experience, you get a unit that can kind of do something late game.
Makalov - Easily the worst of all cav units, any chance Makalov has to be good late game is betrayed by his poor class caps. He nearly escaped F tier by having a few useful turns in Part 2, but after some consideration, I honestly think he's more of a liability than helpful. The only units he can reliably hurt in Geoffrey's Charge are the ones that give you bexp if you spare them. I don't even like putting out fires with him; let the yellow units do it, so they don't run off and get themselves killed. Makalov is just a trainwreck of a character. At least he gets Sol.
Pelleas - As a secret character with a completely unique weapon type, you'd think unlocking him gets you access to some outstanding lategame growth unit with a big payoff for all your hard work. Nope. You get the worst mage in the game instead. While I give him a glimmer of usefulness for the potential to learn staves, you have to invest heavily in him to get there and it's just pointless when even Tormod can do the same thing for cheaper. I can't imagine a run where I'm relying on Pelleas as my 12th string healer for the tower. If you haven't really looked into the numbers, and you decide one day "I'm doing a Pelleas run!" you're going to find his bases shocking. What were they thinking here?
D Tier:
Sephiran - Kind of an easter egg at the end of the game, I considered not rating him at all (like the Burger King), but eh, he contributes something against Ashera I guess. Can't say much more here. Maybe, in an ironman, if you've lost all your non-Micaiah staffbots, you'll be glad when he joins? For barely squeezing out a microniche he escapes F tier.
Sanaki - Maybe I'm underrating her, but I just don't see the point. She needs heavy investment (particularly in seraph robes) to be able to survive the bosses of the tower. When she joins, she's just another subpar mage who doesn't even have the decency to learn staves. Her one saving grace is that she doesn't count against your 10 tower selections, so if you slap a paragon on her and get her battle ready, she can bless Meteor or something and make some contributions. The resources (including combat xp) you pour into her are better used on your real tower units.
Astrid - I considered dumping her in F tier. What the heck happened to the star paragon unit of Path of Radiance? Somehow, she's turned into a turd of a growth unit with atrocious bases, mediocre growths, and wacky availability. I only pulled her out of the gutter because of her class, and even with really awful strength and defense caps, she can turn into a solid tower unit. I've used her before and found she was legitimately not a waste of space as early as 4-1, where she was popping falco knights. I could see her be a good bird sniper in the Izuka map. Still, like all bad growth units, she's just not worth the effort.
Kurthnaga - While he can be fun to train, again, why? He provides the least useful of all dragon auras and just takes XP from your many units who still need it. Maybe make a Kurth juggernaut once for the experience, and then never again. If he joined at the start of Part 4, I can imagine him getting boosted a couple tiers, but nah, you can't be picking up new projects this late in the game.
Meg - Often times called the worst unit in the game, she is...somewhat underrated... as a midgame tank. A project unit for sure, and not worth it, but Meg does grow into a strong unit around 1-E and for all of Part 3. She can solo Ragnell Ike and the field of laguz in 3-13 pretty easily. You've got better options for that, but I do recommend experiencing a Meg run once just to see that it can be done. Ultimately, though, Meg can't escape D tier because her awful class caps betray her in the end, and her best attribute (speed) gets cut off at the knees.
Vika - The Tormod Squad all suffer from the availability curse, but Vika has it worst, since she desperately needs training to be viable at all. As if laguz weren't bad enough already, they can't take Discipline or upgrade weapons by any means other than the long, dark strike rank grind, and Vika has no time at all to do it. That leaves only her joining maps to recommend her, and she can do things like poke-canto or rescue villagers in the swamp, so that's something. If you force yourself to train her, she does gain incredible speed, but hitting twice for 0 isn't impressive. Her class also has cat-like gauge drain, and she can't gain any experience in part 1 due to bizarre laguz xp math, leaving Vika no angles to improve.
Stefan - Thrown in at the end like an afterthought, Stefan is (I would argue) the worst of all the Tower Gotohs, that is, the units that just join at the very end to make sure you have high level units for the tower. With bad luck and a fairly bad class, the only reason I can recommend bringing Stefan is if you want an Alondite unit and you don't like Renning for some reason. He just doesn't serve any purpose. He even joins in a map that locks down his movement. Take his sword and bench him.
Ena/Gareth - I put them together because they fill the same role: buffing your units to fight Ashera. While Gareth is legendary for getting wrecked by magic, Ena is arguably worse, as Ashera's physical attack can kill her too. While that's not nothing, I can't justify taking someone out of D tier when their entire purpose is to help a faster clear in one map, and you don't even really need them.
C tier:
Tauroneo - I had a hard time rating Big T. He pops in to dominate just a couple of chapters before disappearing until part 4. He's the worst Marshall, but gets boosted a tier over Meg because of his efforts in part 1. Marshall is a pretty bad class, but if you want one anyway, you've got two much better options that have tons of availability, so don't bother.
Heather - In a game that doesn't care much about thiefy stuff, Heather just doesn't have a key role to fill. She gets you a couple of stat boosters, which you can promptly feed to your units that cap everything anyway. I'll give her a leg up out of the worst tiers because she can rescue you in Oliver's Mansion if you ran out of chest keys, and the Fortify Staff is really, really good.
Muarim - Unlike Vika, he dominates his few part 1 maps, and he's still viable in Part 4 with his bases. Not bad! Unfortunately, with so little time to train him, you really have to invest heavily to get him tower-ready, and why bother? He's got an awful class and competes with much better units. I suppose he gets a slot in an all-laguz run.
Tormod - He kills that obnoxious wyvern rider on the swamp map. I give him a whole tier for that, because man, that thing is annoying. Beyond that, he's helpful for several part 1 maps, and he can be trained up to use staves for the tower.
Leonardo - The worst member of a great class, Leonardo will absolutely wreck with Double Bow, but the road to get there is harrowing. Only his prf bow's speed boost gets him out of D tier. Maybe even F. He's just such a liability for so long that I can't recommend him.
Ilyana - Strange that in a game where availability is so restricted, the number one most available character is so bad! She was great in PoR, too, but thunder magic has been substantially nerfed. I give her a lot of credit for her join map, which is arguably the hardest map in the game, and if you really work hard to level her, she gets staves with an excellent magic score. As with most units this far down, though, she's just outclassed by all the better options who do the same thing, and you don't need that many backup staff units.
Ranulf - Force deployed for what feels like a dozen chapters, Ranulf mostly hangs around to shove people and occasionally do some damage. He's got the worst class in the game, but unlike Lyre, has great bases that give him a nice little midgame role and then not much else. If you manage to feed him experience in Part 4, he's somewhat endgame viable, as long as you don't have much competition for the laguz gem.
Nealuchi - Like Ranulf, the old bird has a bright spot in the middle of the game where he's got some utility, but is best ditched when his time is up. I find him essential for 2-P and 2-1, a good contributor for 2-E, and then...well, that's a C tier unit.
Kieran - Bummer that he's so reduced here versus PoR, but at least his class gets better caps than most cavs, and he's viable as Geoffrey's sidekick for those odd chapters in Part 2/3. I can't hate him. He's easy to train and turns into a viable, if underwhelming, tower unit, but joining Ike's crew so late in Part 3 hurts him, as he is immediately outclassed by like two dozen people that you've been training for ages.
Lucia - She gets a big boost for being essential for 2-1 and viable in Part 4. If I was going to train a bad trueblade, I'm picking her over Stefan at least, but her lack of availability and bad class push her to the middle tiers.
Renning - An unfairly hated tower gotoh, Renning is your best freebie Alondite user, and has tolerable enough bases to hang out and contribute with your actual good units. He's just mediocre compared to anyone you've actually built up yourself, and he's clearly worse than Giffca and the royals. Many people do their ironmans with all royals banned for the challenge, and if that's you, Renning suddenly becomes a valuable backup unit that I would maybe bump another tier. As-is, he's just mid.
Volke - Ditto what I said for Renning, except he uses the Baselard instead, doubles auras without help, and can instakill people. I usually take Stillness off and give it to Micaiah, though, so his durability is a problem. Volke is like a super-trueblade and worth considering if you are low on viable tower units.
Giffca/Mufasa - The lion king and his shadow are virtually the same unit, except that Giffca has to use a laguz gem to transform for some reason (Guess he was borrowing his boss's formshift scroll last game?). I usually refuse to use them on principle, but I can't count that against them. They absolutely wreck the Tower but serve no other purpose. As the best of the Tower Gotohs, I can't justify higher than C.
Nasir - The best of the dragon auras, Nasir enables some aura one-rounding strategies that make a big difference. Still, we're talking about one dang map. When I made this I struggled with whether or not he should be down with Gareth and Ena, but I'm giving him a lot of credit for his special aura and his invincibility versus magic.
Sigrun/Tanith - The lesser two of the three Seraph Knights, they have one of the best classes in the game, but mediocre bases and growths. There's only one Wishblade, unfortunately, and while Seraph Knight is the best class to use it, that just means there's no reason to bring multiple of them unless you want to goof off with triangle attack. If Marcia turned out poor or you didn't use her, I recommend grabbing Sigrun (higher base level) for the Wishblade and training her up in Part 4. If you aren't training these units, they still get credit for flying utility in the desert.
Ulki/Janaff - Can't decide which of the twins are better here. With insane bases and no xp gain at all, these guys show up in part 3 to help shove people and generally help out when someone is in trouble. While they stay viable to the end (to the delight of the zero percent growth community), I don't get too excited by their lategame contributions. The laguz gauge is their Achilles Heel in part 3; I just can't justify relying on them.
Bastian/Oliver - My hottest take of this tier list, I have argued for a long time that Oliver is underrated as your Renault/Yoder character; that is, your staffbot gotoh who fills in to rescue ironmans. Bastian serves the same role, but slightly better. If your Micaiah is bad or untrained and you haven't leveled any of the project mages, these guys are your strongest staff users.
Devdan - Just as forgettable here as in Path of Radiance, Devdan suffers from bad bases and availability, and as the worst member of a meh class, there's just no reason to invest in him. I give him a lot of credit for major contributions in two key chapters without being a liability, and if you do train him, his superior caps make him arguably better than Kieran in lategame. Oh, and in part 3, he can climb that one ledge to keep it open. That's...something.
Calill - Helping out on a couple more midgame maps than Devdan, Calill is never good, but she can chip a bit here or there and usually isn't a liability. Anyone who can do anything in Elincia's Gambit gets a push in my book. If you do wind up making good use of her and slap on a crown, she's another backup staff unit with okay stats.
Lethe/Murderkaiser - The cat and tiger duo once again shows up midgame with good stats, bad growths, and a spot waiting for them on the bench. I find that they make a great contribution in part 2, remain viable in part 3, and...well, they exist in part 4 I guess. Mordecai can be built into a viable tank thanks to having vastly more time to grow compared to Muarim, and better everything compared to Kyza. Lethe has dramatically better strength than her idiot sister. Too bad the bad classes keep them out of the good tiers.
B tier:
Edward - We're getting out of the riffraff and into some viable units. While Edward is one of the weaker Dawn Brigade growth options, he is super helpful in numerous key early chapters where you desperately need it, and he can grow into a complete powerhouse. Just watch his growths as he naturally levels throughout part 1, and if he fails to pop off, bench him. If he crushes those strength and defense growths, though, he's an excellent choice for a Part 3 carry, as he's on the shortlist of units who can solo 3-13 - not the best one, but much easier to level than Meg, for example. His luck sword is I guess the worst of the DB prf weapons, but it's still decent for a long time, before you toss it for Alondite. If he didn't fall off in late part 1, he'd be A tier. Also, he's got a bad class and competes with at least one or two better units for that precious Alondite.
Soren - With magic nerfed in this game, Soren has no chance of breaking into the highest tiers, but he sure tries. I'd argue he is the best mage in the game. He's not too difficult to train, hits high magic numbers, and turns into the game's best staffbot (arguably) by endgame. While I'd rather bring a free Bastian than a high effort Soren to the tower, Ike's BFF gets a big boost from his super high availability. I never feel like he's a drag on the party.
Rhys - Like Soren, but you don't need to wait for staves, alright, Rhys probably snatches the prize of lategame staffbot from Soren, but not by much. He's hurt by awful physicals, which can make him seem like a liability, but your list of part 3 staff units is sparse, so he's going to contribute a lot every run, no matter what you have planned for him.
Mist - She's much weaker than Rhys in every way, but when she promotes, she gets Canto, which is wonderful for a frail unit. While Florete is bugged (or sucks by design, depending on who you ask) and there is no Sonic Sword, Mist is still viable as a mobile healer who won't let you down through the entire game. I know I keep saying different people are the "best lategame staffbot" but I swear this is the last one, it's really Mist.
Zihark/Volug - I paired them for nearly identical availability and the legendary earth/earth affinity, which gives them a niche in certain difficult part 3 maps where their contributions are invaluable. Neither character scales well into endgame (there are better options for trueblade) and they aren't invincible like Big T, but at least they show up for work. Use them as Jeigans in part 1 and tanks in part 3, then say goodbye.
Micaiah - Often called the worst lord in the game, she...probably deserves it. Oh no, I'm about to call her the actual best staffbot, aren't I? No, she's difficult to raise up due to being such a frail liability all game and having forced promotions. She gets big credit for a couple key Thani nukes early game, and she's a force deployed physics bot from 3-13 onward. Have I overrated her? Maybe, but I like healers.
Geoffrey - With a couple chapters designed to make him look good, Geoffrey is essential to clear the game, but his class caps keep him from getting into the elite levels. I find that he levels quickly in part 4 (without paragon, even) and holds his own. I really wish he joined with Kieran and the others. By endgame, he's a viable filler unit.
Nolan - A godsend in the early chapters, the Dawn Brigade would have died in the cradle without Nolan. He gets an amazing prf weapon and is easily viable as a part 3 carry, but I find him inadequate to solo 3-13 or reliably fight Ike. His strength and defense growth is just too poor, and he lacks the avoid to make up for it. Still, he has the best beorc class caps in the game, and after being reliable and useful for so long, you can reward him with careful bexp abuse to make sure he can slam the tower bosses with 62 attack power. There's something satisfying about seeing a human inflict lion-like damage to gods.
Laura - I always see her at the bottom of tier lists, but your only healer in part 1 (Micaiah doesn't count) deserves some love. She's a huge liability on the field, but think about how much harder Part 1 gets if she dies. She stays viable in part 3 (I usually savior backpack her with somebody) and is, yes, another top tier lategame staffbot. For being an essential unit for so long, and for having endgame potential, I can't see lower than B tier.
Simba - The lion prince needs paragon and some effort to get rolling, but boy does he! As an acceptable alternative to those cheating royal laguz, Skrimir is just an unstoppable powerhouse who can solo entire maps in part 4 if you let him. Until the white dragons show up, Skrimir is never in danger from anything other than his own stupid laguz gauge, which is why he's not in A tier. If you haven't tried slapping paragon and adept on Skrimir and letting him eat all of 4-P, try it once, it's hilarious.
Royal Trio - I put Nailah ahead of the bird brains for her availability, but they all have the same role: hold your hand through part 4. Tibarn can actually die to the crossbow guy in 4-2, which makes me laugh, and Naesala is downright mortal by comparison. I like to leave Pass on Nailah from part 1 and give her chest keys for Oliver's Mansion. All of these units are insanely strong and help trivialize the tower, which is why I don't bring them.
Singing Siblings - I know, putting Rafiel lower on the list than the others is blasphemy, but he's barely around through the whole game. He's widely accepted as the best tower bird (though I prefer Reyson), but other than Oliver's Mansion, what hard missions does he help out on? Rafiels' role is to help fight dragons and gods, which is a pretty good resume, so he's up this high. Leanne wins my heart for Elincia's Gambit alone, but she also helps make the bridge and desert maps more tolerable.
Marcia - A hot take here, but Marcia has a lot of availability and a positive, if underwhelming, contribution through most of it. By lategame, she turns into an excellent flier (Seraph Knights are truly amazing) and is, in my opinion, the single best Wishblade candidate in the entire game. Marcia never crushes this game like she does Path of Radiance, but I'm here for her.
Boyd - Notoriously tough to get rolling, Boyd has those insane Reaver caps and a lot of time to reach them. While he's just a project unit in part 3, he does crest that hill eventually and turn into a complete wrecking ball who trivializes the rest of the game. He easily hits 40 strength and isn't that tough to train up to 35 speed with bexp. He's the game's best Urvan user (as his caps are easier to hit than Nolan) and I only don't put him higher because it's a bit of a struggle to get him going.
A tier:
Rolf - People are going to lose their minds over this one. I'm always astonished how many people don't know that Rolf has 75% strength growth! Snipers are easy to level and have a great payoff, meaning that even if Shinon wins your double bow, you'll never regret bringing a second killer deadeye through the whole game. Imagine if Leonardo had Rolf's growths. Little bro is like Dmitri, but in the Wii era. Don't sleep on Rolf. He's amazing.
Nephenee - Sometimes overrated, sometimes underrated, Nephenee has top notch availability and is an essential unit for several chapters, and while she can get lost in the Greil Mercs spam, she quickly turns into a stellar well-rounded infantry unit who can carry the game. She's never bad and turns into another excellent Wishblade user, who I only put below Marcia for the tower due to lack of flying/canto. Due to high availability and never needing particular training attention, though, Nephenee skirts into the top tiers.
Mia - Unlike Path of Radiance, Mia starts viable and quickly takes off like a rocket, turning into your best Trueblade. Lacking only one strength in her final caps versus Edward, she's easier to level and, imo, your best overall Alondite unit. Because she is around so long and always helpful, she gets a bump.
Brom/Gatrie - Brom almost gets the nod for being an essential unit for so Part 2, but his falloff is noticeable, and his endgame potential as a Marshall is worse than, say, Nephenee. Gatrie picks up that slack and remains as one of your best Greil Mercs for the rest of the game. I could see someone valuing Brom's early contributions more and swapping this order. Both units suffer from the usual Marshall problems: bad caps, bad movement, competing with far better units for the best items.
Titania - The stalwart ride-or-die arch-paladin of Tellius, Titania doesn't carry hard like she does in the previous game, but she's immediately dominant and stays that way virtually forever. She has reasonable class caps (compared to other cavs, anyway) and is fine to bring to the tower, but you will notice a dropoff. Regardless of tower viability, she's so damn strong for so long that I can't rank her any lower.
Oscar - While he starts weak and is imprisoned by truly awful tier 2 caps, Oscar is still solid and provides that lovely earth affinity through a ton of chapters. Once he breaks into tier 3, he's immediately one of your best units, and stays that way for a long time. I almost rated Titania higher, but I think Oscar surpasses her and is a candidate for an early crown. If not for those tier 2 caps, he'd be S tier.
Shinon - Embarrassed by the "9 strength incident" in Path of Radiance, Shinon hit the gym and turned into a powerhouse from the moment he joins until the end of the game. He's never not great, and he only gets better as he gets his outstanding third tier caps and SS rank weapon. While he usually needs bexp to hit str and def caps, that's more a function of the highish caps than any weaknesses in growths. Shinon is almost breaking into S tier. If he was a flying archer, he'd be the next Haar.
Aran - The wrongest opinion in all of Fire Emblem is that Aran is bad. Just wrong, wrong, wrong. Aran starts as a weak unit among numerous other weak units, is easily trainable, and quickly pops off - 75% strength growth, again! - to turn into a juggernaut that surpasses everyone except the royals. By Part 3, Aran has made the rest of the Dawn Brigade redundant, and by 3-13, he's a walking god. I always laugh when I hear commentators talk about how difficult part 3 is, then minutes later, mention how bad Aran is. Well, of course it's hard if you don't use the best unit! I only keep Aran out of S tier because of DB availability and because his class caps keep him from stomping as hard in the tower, where he rarely doubles.
S tier:
Jill - Flying utility gives her the bump into the upper echelons. Slightly harder to train than Aran, she benefits immensely from the str and def items (which are useless to Aran, who caps immediately) and turns into another juggernaut. While she stays weaker than Aran throughout most of the game, the mobility is a factor, and she grows into one of your best endgame units. If you had to average the two games together, Jill is probably the best character in Tellius. Or Titania, it's hard to say, but it's definitely a canto redhead.
Sothe - Play this game: a trickster god deletes one character from your rom, permanently. Seize squares and game over conditions get reassigned, but you now have to play the rest of the game without that unit, forever. What's the absolute worst unit to lose? I cannot think of a worse unit to lose than Sothe. Is the Dawn Brigade even possible without him? I'm sure someone has done it. After making the game playable, Sothe falls off hard, but he can be trained into a sub-par Volke if you want. I contend that Tellius literally could not be saved without him. So why isn't he the absolute top tier? Well, I guess I'm weighing the rest of the game higher, but I'm not 100% convinced that's right.
Elincia - What a glow-up from PoR! The devs nerf her in 2-P to keep it difficult, but as soon as she gets her weapon, she turns into a flying healer who also wrecks things. I think she's a lock for the tower, even if you are dedicating six tower slots to royals and lions. While a weaker staffbot than some others I mentioned, she's good enough. And she flies! Elincia is just awesome.
Reyson - Speedrunners and LTCers prefer Rafiel for a better Turn 1 against Ashera, but I like Reyson's high movement and canto, and you have laguz gems by that point. As for the rest of the game, Reyson has by far the best availability of all herons - which isn't saying much, I know. I just wish this game wasn't so weird with dancers.
Ike vs Haar for the championship - People have debated between Ike and Haar since the game came out. I put Ike 2nd because, while he carries harder with Ragnell, he's still a normal (albeit stronk) infantry swordlocked unit for a long time before then. Haar saves your bacon in Part 2 (twice) and then carries Part 3 just for fun afterwards. He also has the best boss convos in 2-P and 4-E-2. Ike gets the boss convo award in 4-P, so this most critical of category tips the scales toward Haar. The real answer is availability + domination = top of the top tier. As if Haar wasn't stupid OP enough, he gets the best beorc defense cap in the entire game, because why not? He even beats out the Marshalls on Strength! And his mastery skill is better! Honestly, what were they thinking here? While Ragnell Ike is the strongest unit in the game, Totality Ike is only the second strongest.

BerbaPrime Berberine offers notable benefits in blood sugar regulation and metabolic enhancement, making it a viable option for those looking to manage diabetes-related symptoms or improve their metabolic health.
However, its effects on weight loss and appetite control are somewhat moderate, and it may not live up to the expectations set by its strong marketing claims, which can feel a bit hyped up.
For weight management & appetite suppression, I would rate it at 3/5.
For those specifically seeking more effective appetite suppression and weight loss, alternatives like PhenQ or Instant Knockout, which contain glucomannan—a soluble fiber that promotes a feeling of fullness—might provide more direct and noticeable results in these areas.
In my opinion, these alternatives are better designed to tackle weight management more robustly by directly suppressing appetite and enhancing metabolic rates than Berbaprime alone.
If you're exploring Berberine as a supplement to manage your blood sugar and potentially cut down on your appetite, here's my honest scoop from firsthand use. It works along similar lines as Metformin by affecting the same metabolic pathway, which is a big plus if you're familiar with diabetes treatments.
However, it's gentler on the stomach compared to Metformin. But keep in mind, if you're already on Metformin, adding Berberine could be overkill, so it's crucial to consult your doctor first.
Also recommend this article on Medium on recommended berberine supplements.
I've noticed some immediate effects, like a bit of a loose stool at first, but this side effect tapered off pretty quickly. More importantly, it significantly cuts down my appetite, although NOT as strongly as other potent appetite suppressants.
This was a real game-changer for me, especially during mid-day cravings that used to be my downfall. If you're on a specific diet like keto, it might be a boon for managing those pesky carb cravings, making it easier to stay on track with your dietary goals.
Lastly, not all Berberine supplements are created equal. I switched to a dihydroberberine form from a slow-release tablet, which was more effective and way easier on my gut compared to the standard Berberine HCL capsules that gave me a hard time with stomach pain.
This type of Berberine is more bioavailable, meaning you get more bang for your buck at lower doses.
If you're juggling other medications, especially statins or thyroid meds, heads up—Berberine could mess with their effectiveness. Always discuss with your healthcare provider before starting it, treat it like any other serious medication, because it really can impact your health regimen significantly.
Nopal cactus or Glucomannan based weight loss pills seem to have much better safety profile, so if you’re looking for better & safer solutions, stick to those.

Introduction
If you are on the lookout for a natural way to suppress your appetite and aid your weight loss efforts, you might have come across BerbaPrime Berberine. This supplement boasts a high-strength Berberine HCL at 97% concentration, each dose delivering a hefty 1500mg.
What sets it apart from other berberine brands is not just its strength, but also its claims of supporting a healthy metabolism, managing cholesterol levels, and keeping blood sugar in check.
All these features sound great, especially if you are trying to manage or prevent issues linked to metabolic health. But let's take a look into what it's like using BerbaPrime daily, from a real user's perspective.

Pros & Cons of BerbaPrime Berberine as a Natural Ozempic Alternative

Pros:

• Blood Sugar Control: Highly effective in regulating blood sugar levels, mimicking some of the glucose-management effects of Ozempic.
• Metabolic Health: Activates AMPK, supporting improved metabolic processes and potentially aiding in weight management.
• Inflammatory Response Reduction: Offers anti-inflammatory benefits that can enhance insulin sensitivity and overall metabolic health.
• Gut Health Support: Positively impacts the gut microbiome, promoting a healthier digestive system which is essential for overall metabolic health.
• Safety Profile: Generally well-tolerated with a good safety profile, manufactured in facilities that follow high-quality standards.

Cons:

• Limited Energy Boosting: Does not significantly enhance energy levels, which may affect motivation for increased physical activity.
• Moderate Appetite Suppression: Less effective at directly suppressing appetite compared to Ozempic, impacting its efficacy in weight management.
• Variable Weight Loss Results: May not directly lead to significant weight loss, with effects on weight being less consistent and less pronounced.
• Initial Digestive Discomfort: Some users may experience gastrointestinal side effects such as stomach upset, especially when beginning the supplement.

Evaluation of BerbaPrime Berberine as a Natural Ozempic Alternative
1. Blood Sugar Regulation: 4/5 BerbaPrime Berberine effectively aids in stabilizing blood sugar levels, mimicking some of Ozempic's effects, due to its potent berberine content which activates AMPK, an enzyme crucial for glucose metabolism. Alternative: Cinnamon supplements are another natural option, known for helping to improve insulin sensitivity and lower blood sugar levels.
2. Appetite Modulation: 3/5 While BerbaPrime Berberine can help stabilize blood sugar, which indirectly aids in controlling appetite, it is less effective at directly suppressing hunger compared to Ozempic. Alternative: Glucomannan, and Nopal cactus are dietary fibes, that might be more effective in creating a feeling of fullness, helping to reduce overall calorie intake.
3. Metabolic Enhancement: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine activates AMPK, which can enhance metabolic health by improving how the body uses energy, though its impact may not be as substantial or immediate in terms of boosting calorie and fat burn as Ozempic. Alternative: Green tea extract, which contains catechins and caffeine, has been shown to increase metabolic rate and fat oxidation.
4. Energy Optimization: 2/5 BerbaPrime Berberine may support better glucose utilization, which can indirectly contribute to increased energy levels; however, it does not directly enhance energy in a noticeable way that supports increased physical activity like Ozempic might. Alternative: Coenzyme Q10 (CoQ10) supplements can boost energy by enhancing cellular energy production, particularly beneficial for increasing vitality and endurance.
5. Weight Management Support: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine can aid in weight management by improving metabolic health and reducing insulin resistance, which helps in the fat reduction process, but it may not directly cause significant weight loss. Alternative: Nopal cactus, Glucomannan, Garcinia Cambogia. Garcinia has been popular for its hydroxycitric acid content, which can reduce appetite and inhibit the production of new fats, offering more direct support for weight loss.
6. Safety and Tolerability Profile: 4/5 BerbaPrime Berberine is generally safe for most individuals when used as recommended, with its high-quality manufacturing practices ensuring product purity and safety. Some users may experience gastrointestinal discomfort initially, but it is typically well-tolerated. Alternative: Magnesium supplements are well-tolerated and offer numerous health benefits, including better blood sugar control and reduced insulin resistance, with minimal side effects.
7. Inflammatory Response Reduction: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine has anti-inflammatory properties that can contribute to reduced systemic inflammation, potentially improving insulin sensitivity and metabolic health. However, its effectiveness in significantly lowering inflammation compared to direct anti-inflammatory supplements is moderate. Alternative: Turmeric, especially when combined with black pepper (which enhances absorption), is highly effective at reducing inflammation due to its active compound curcumin, and it supports overall metabolic health.
8. Gut Health Improvement: 3/5 BerbaPrime Berberine can support gut health by modulating the gut microbiota, promoting the growth of beneficial bacteria, and reducing the population of harmful ones. While it offers some benefits, it may not be as potent or direct in improving overall digestive health as other specialized gut health supplements. Alternative: Probiotics are a direct and effective choice for enhancing gut health, improving digestion, nutrient absorption, and can also positively impact weight management and metabolic health.

Female, 23 years old, no medications. Smoker Known for: IBS, Interstitial cystitis
Hi guys. Yesterday I felt the worst pain in my life to the point where I couldn't walk anymore and was taken to the hospital. The pain lasted around 30 minutes. It felt like severe cramps in my lower abdomen that seemed to go and come back every few minutes. I couldn't find any sort of relief, I only felt comfortable when laying on the ground. I got lunch. 10 minutes after that, pain started in my lower back on the left side. I then started to feel the need to pee and no.2 at the same time. It was a really weird feeling. I went to the bathroom but couldn't pass anything, nor pee nor fecal matters. Then the pain started really intensely. I almost passed out and turned really pale from the pain. It felt like cramps and burning all at the same time, pain seemed focused on my bladder. I thought it could be a kidney stone, but I didn't pass anything and the pain just stopped. The 911 was called and paramedics came to take me to the hospital. When I got there, pain completely disappeared so I left after a few hours of waiting. (Quebec hospitals, if you know you know) Fast forward 12 hours later ; pain is back but it feels different. I have a "full" feeling in my lower abdomen and have pain that feels worse at the touch, laughing, coughing.... I feel like I have problems passing gas but not stools?? My lower back also has a "burning" feeling. It's less intense than yesterday, but still really uncomfortable.
It's pretty weird how at first I thought it was bladder pain, but now it feels like intestinal problems? Is there anything that could link the two pains? How likely is it to be a kidney stone?

Did you know that memories aren’t real? No? Not really, you can misremember or change a memory without ever knowing you have. It’s a sinisterly important fact for me, some would be worried but I find it freeing, I can share this memory without fear or shame. I most likely haven’t remembered what happened as it happened, and considering what happened on the 9th of May all those years ago, I’d say it’s likely I don’t remember. It’s a relief really that memories aren’t real; I have always hated talking about my memories, about myself in general. In my experience, people are not interested in what I have to say, unless it relates to them or it makes me look less than them. Maybe it’s all in my head, everything is really. I’m not the most people friendly these days, I think you could call me a cynic, I call myself a cynic, but I’ll try and keep true to this memory, without the influence of hindsight and my cynicism.
It’s about that puddle and the 9th of May. Why the specifically the 9th of May? Well I don’t actually know why that day, it could have easily been the 8th, the difference is hours. I do wish I could change the setting; it’s almost poetic, I could always be misremembering, it was a long time ago, and I have been told many times since that I have a flair for the dramatic. A dark and rainy night, with the wind howling, well that’s a backdrop I can enjoy.
I’m sorry. Let me start at the beginning for the sake of clarity, otherwise I’ll never finish what I start to say, and I’ll never say what I need to say.
Once upon a time I went to a party. I enjoyed drinking back then, a healthy amount for most people, but for me, a dangerous amount, I had a tendency to get inside my head when I drink.
No again I’m sorry, that’s not the memory I want to share, I want to tell the 9th of May, I think this memory will be harder to tell than I first thought.
It was a birthday party for a friend, well a friend of a friend, I knew two people there, I was speaking my wisdom at the party, normally people would just nod and slide away from that kind of wisdom, but this was during the university days, everyone is intelligent, insightful and understanding at university. We few were the self-proclaimed leaders of the future, and so understood all, my green wisdom spewed with no start or finish was always well received. I remember some of what I said, you can walk into any pub or club and listen to the drunkest person in the room, they would have spewed the same wisdom, wisdom that I thought at the time was original and wise, but really was just old sentiment repeated with new words. Despite what I wanted at the time, wisdom comes with age, not self-assurance.
But this time was my spring years, that sweet age just before I faced reality, the real harsh reality of life, I had just begun to explore the world inside my bubble, and my exploration lead me onto the well-trodden path of clubbing and drinking, the respectable rebellion. I began as I always did, by talking, talking of going to some event, a lecture, a monument, an underground pub, of all the things I could do that evening, the places I could go, I and the other future leaders of the world, the potential was ours to squander. This ended as it always would, in that night club, the very same one I would always go to, my slice of reality. Apologies my dear reader, I have a cynical mind, it’s hard to keep at bay, I’ll admit that I haven’t really tried to keep it from being an influence here, I can’t seem to help myself, but this next part of the memory is less clear, but I can relay it with a real, shame filled joy. This part of the memory feels more like a dream now, I don’t have the energy to do what I did that night, I don’t have the energy for much these days, I think that makes the memory more fond to me, drinking, dancing, worry free. Maybe fond was the wrong word to use here, jealous is more fitting, jealous of the innocence and time I wasted. The power of a drink back then was incredible; I miss the feeling, that burn in the mouth, the after taste, the saliva, the heat in your chest, and that feeling of being unstoppable. Of course drink has more than one effect, and while I’d like to believe my cloudy memory is caused by false and misremembered facts, or by the merging of a hundred single nights into one endless night, that’s too poetic. No, the memory is clouded by the amount I drunk that night, and many years after as I tried to forget this very memory.
Yet despite this, even now, the fragments still makes me smile, whether it’s because I enjoy the memories of the innocence I held then, or I’m jealous of them I cannot say, I’m a self-proclaimed cynic, not a philosopher or a psychologist, I’ll leave the analysis to better men than me. Instead I’ll try to give you an idea of what happened in the club without my opinions bleeding through. This night in the club was no different from all the others, they all start the same. Moving around the club in a daze, my head feeling big and unsteady, but also incredibly light and empty, my fingertips warm, my feet numb, I remember dancing to songs, dancing on tables, screaming out lyrics, smoking outside, stealing a bottle of champagne, fixing my hair in a mirror, buying a round of drinks, the lights flashing, the bass thumping, fog spewing, standing on my own staring at the old chandelier, crawling on the floor looking for money, I remember walking out the club and how quiet everything seemed in comparison while I tried to keep standing in the night air, looking at my hands, how bright the lights were, how blurry the world seemed and how beautiful the moon was that night. Here, here the memory starts to come back into focus, the bright street lights and night air always helped me to sober up at night, plus I’ve always enjoyed being outside in the dark night or under the moonlight, I find it comforting to stand under the moon, it’s as if I’m suddenly alive.
As I came to my senses my memory sharpened, but that’s all, my drunkenness remained. I was with a couple of friends, some who I had been at the party with and some who I met in the club, we got food, and we spent such a long time talking, our conversations were mixed, some happy, some sad, all just more green wisdom. Much later on, me and my friend, maybe the one I went to the party with (it might have been someone else, who’s to say?), walked back towards our homes not because we wanted to walk as we said over and over to our screeching friends, but because the taxi was expensive and we couldn’t afford it, we lived in different places but close enough that we could walk together. Its funny to think of this moment, back then I had the money for a taxi, but I wouldn’t spend it on a taxi, now that I’m a poor man, I’ll spend money I don’t have on taxis I don’t need, apparently the youthful idiot I was, was wiser than I am now in some regards after all.
I don’t remember walking with my friend, or rather, I know where we went, how long it took and what we probably talked about, I had walked this walk so many times before this night, and so many after, they are all the same memory to me now, I enjoyed the walking in the night, the exhilaration of that has stayed with me more than the company on those walks. I always used to break it down into three segments, and so that’s how it comes back to me now. Leaving the club, past the library, past the race track, over the river across the bridge, up the steep hill, past the first university gates (which were actually the back gates), round the campus on the public roads, to the second gates (which are the main gates), a long walk with company, a painfully short one with alone. He was still living on the Campus my friend, I lived about ten minutes away from the campus, I said goodbye and goodnight, we agreed to speak in the morning if we survived. He went through the back gates and headed towards the halls, I continued on my way, onto the second segment of the walk past the gates.
I was on my own for the rest of the walk; this happened a lot, both during my university days and many years after. I lived on the opposite side of the campus to most of my friends so this part of the walk was always mine alone, even when I started the night with the people I lived with. I didn’t mind, it was nice to enjoy the feeling of being drunk without having to show I was drunk, a few assured moments of peace under the moon light. I never deviated from my path, round the outside of the campus, opposite some housing estates, till I got next to a little shop that sold cheap, bottles of spirit. I would always stop for a moment to wish that shop was open.
Then it was down that straight road, the final part of my walk, big houses on either side, well-lit but not busy. It looked like it was a five minute walk but once you started it felt like it was never ending, and at the end of the night, in the night air, it was never ending. Sometimes I would run, sprint to see if I could make it to the end of that road without stopping, something to break the monotony of walking, other times to tire myself out so I could fall straight to sleep, and sometimes just because I wanted to run. Nearly every day for two years I walked down that road to go clubbing shopping or studying, to go for a meal, see a film, meet a friend, it was a constant part of my life, an unwanted companion and witness. Walking down that road, reader I don’t think I’m able to describe how I hated that road, but I always walked down that road, there were other ways I could walk, quicker ways, but I always took that road.
This particular night, actually at this point I suppose it was the morning. I was walking down that road in the rain and dark between the streetlights, bitterly cold staring straight into a street light walking on the right hand side. I’d always walk on the right hand side, I’m not sure why, whenever I walked on the left I had a bad day. Except for on the 9th, the 9th is the one exception.
I have no clue where the car came from; I didn’t see it until after the jump, just a blurred headlight, a door, a wing mirror. The driver, the make, the model, even the color is a mystery. It appeared and left like a phantom. There was no thought, I moved forward, but I don’t recognize that I was the one who leapt forward.
I remember the fall. I fell backwards. As if my strings had been cut and I fell limp into the puddle, there was no splash as I landed in that puddle.
The feeling I felt in that puddle, it was something I had never felt before or since, an overwhelming pull I was powerless against, I pray to never to feel it again.
Should I describe it? How to describe it? I have to describe it. I can describe the fear it inspired, but not yet, it’s easier to describe fear, but this isn’t meant to be easy, this memory never is. No the actual feeling, that’s harder, It wasn’t a happy emotion, not a powerful emotion, not a sad emotion. Hopelessness? Yes it was hopelessness. Nothing more, nothing less. No hope for the future, no point to anything, I think it is possibly the only time I felt hopelessness. You can’t live without hope.
I couldn’t stand could I? No, I wouldn’t have laid there if I could, to begin with I didn’t want to, didn’t care to, my legs wouldn’t move, arms were like stone, every muscle in my body cramped, I could feel everything. My eyes were open, rain hitting them, rain dripped from my lips to my chin, it tickled. The fingertips were warm, hair moved, stand by stand off my face. Puddle water lapped against my cheek, socks soaking up water, shirt getting tighter and heavier, jacket sleeves filling up with water, keys and wallet resting on my leg. I just lay there staring at nothing, seeing nothing.
I think to begin with I was gone; that everything I held myself up to and was trying to achieve, had suddenly left me, except my memories, memories that weren’t real. For the longest time that’s how I was, empty, even down to my emotions there was nothing I laid there empty. I could feel my body, but I couldn’t move it, I wasn’t welcome, I felt awkward, out of place.
I’m not sure how long I lay there, dead (I had to be dead because I had no hope), it could have been a minute; it could have been hours, days or years.
The light was wrong. It was dark, only the light seemed to come from a streetlight, the sky was empty, the moon had left me.
Some portion of my mind came back, I started crying, I had failed, failed at even this simple task, I lay for a long time waiting, waiting for something else to come, I should have gotten up, but I just lay there waiting, I was muttering my secret . If that had been my mind for the rest of my days, I would have spent those days in that puddle unmoving; declared brain dead on the spot. The moment raises such disgust in me, I grieved my most important failure, hated my greatest success.
I’d like to lie here, to say anything other than the truth, to save myself the pain and the shame, but I said I would try to tell this memory as it was, not as I wish it, so while I’d like to say I had a vison, a burst of strength, that hope returned to me, I can’t, because in reality it was two words that saved me.
Two words. The Two words that cut through it all. I’m still not sure if I just heard them from somewhere else, said it myself or imagined it afterwards. “Get up” it was angry, disgusted, the words were almost spat out, “Get up”. Those words have burned themselves into my mind, and affected me every day since. The fear and inspiration it awoke in my mind, throat pricked and butterflies in my stomach, anxiety. Next to the hopelessness it seemed like life had spoken, with a voice that wielded fear.
I took control of my body then……
No dear reader I didn’t…. I am almost finished, I have to be true to the memory, I can’t spare myself now, it’s too late for me to take it back. I didn’t take control, I wasn’t there yet, it took me such a long time to regain control again, but it gave my eyes back to me for I had seen nothing long before the fall. I watched as fear drove me, took the strings of my life and moved them, dragging my shell in the dust, screaming.
I cursed everyone and everything, hated myself for what had happened, Oh and the fear, fear of the voice, fear of dying, the fear that someone would see me at this moment, see me and misunderstand me, I didn’t want to die,(I don’t want to die now) I was terrified that I had tried to die, terrified I didn’t know where that urge came from, that moment of energy and intention that was actioned without the consent of my mind, that I was powerless against.
Fear drove me, commanded me out of that puddle. I’d gone insane, truly, completely, utterly mad, I was dragging myself to the curb, screaming, crying, laughing, I ripped my finger nails out, shredded my palms and hands into bloody messes my knees into bruised pulp, my head and face cut by being dragged along.
I heaved up that curb fucking curb, shaking. I started to stand and scramble forward, to escape that spot, that puddle on that road. I stood up hunched and bent, buffet by the wind, laughing, crying, waving my hands in all directions spitting, shouting, wiping blood on my jeans, I was staggering side to side shaking, soaked to the bone, I was mad, insane, disgraced and humiliated.
Why say more? I won’t go further, there is so much more but to understand it…. This was not the place for such memories. That moment all those years ago, was not the eureka moment, the next day I turned this into a joke, a story to tell.
To this day, I cannot tell you what really happened that night all those years ago, as I sit here writing and rewriting the words over and over. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. I wonder what would happened if I could relive that night again, doing everything again now.
This was the time that my bubble began to burst and the real world hit me like a wave. Perhaps it was just a moment of growing pains. I’ve said it before, I’m only a cynic, all I have left is the memory of the 9th of May, a memory I visit daily.

I've always wanted to experience true HDR but my tv is only a budget LED. It's still Samsung and a great 4K tv still. But HDR just doesn't work properly on budget TVs and it makes the colour look extremely washed out. For the most part it's fine I'll just turn off HDR however there's a couple of instances where this isn't really an option and I have to sacrifice something. Take BBC iPlayer for example. The Xbox version of BBC iPlayer is still the Xbox One version using backwards compatibility for Xbox series x/s. This means that the 4K feature isn't available on Xbox. However because I have a 4K tv, streaming in 1080P can make it look more pixelated than just using a 1080P tv. Luckily the tv is a smart tv so it has its own native app which is up to date and has 4K. However it forces HDR on with no option to switch it off and because it still a budget tv and it darkens the screen and colours. So the very thing that supposedly makes it more colourful just makes it look more colourless. It's like I want the sahara desert the bright blue sky, the burning yellow sand, the black shadows. But what I get instead is a British Street, the bright grey clouds with dark grey roads with grey houses. I hate the fact I have to choose between colourful but pixelated or colourless but smooth.

Hey, so you ever get a birthday present that's so not your style, but you really can't return it because it'd be really awkward? Normally it's like, I dunno. Shoes, or shirts or something like that, right?
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
I’d like to say that I did something else. Like I defeated an army of drakons on my way, or managed to fight off crazed demigods sent by my dad…but no. It was pretty much just traffic the rest of the way there. It was long and arduous, but I managed to make my way over to The Intrepid. After that traffic,I had to say, the amount of crazy drivers was almost San Francisco bad. I’d have taken as many spartoi and boars as dad could throw at me, if it meant I wasn’t drowning in the sea of cars. I drove down Pier 86, feeling a sense of relief as I got closer and closer to the aircraft carrier turned museum. As I got within eyeshot, I realized that dad said to take it to the temple, but not where to drop it off at.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
OOC: And there we have it! The final David storymode relevant to this storyline! I meant to have this yesterday but I didn't see the modmail that gave me the okay until literally an hour ago oop. Which means that yes, the Chariot and Ares both are approved from the mods.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!

The dampness persists,
The tears continue to fall,
The light in here dies,
As it lights up to illuminate
To find some place to ignite

Someone from outside must bring
or someone opens up the sheets,
to let the suns beam in
Warm the ground, dry the walls
gather some tools
to start the war

In any case, maybe our best tools
are pain of memories,
regrets of the past
Use it to move forward,
To climb up,
up at last

So these are the friends i run away from,
they are the only propellors for the force i desire outside
They have the light bright enough
to warm my cold heart

Warm it all with the pain of memories
and regrets of the past

What i search in outside, the spark, i carry within
I dont want to peek in
Why? Because its light is strong
Its heat blazing out
To bring about a destruction

Taming these fires i understand,
is what the journey is for
Smiling in the face their red flames
That eyes to ash you out,

So, I carry on to pick up the whole of earth
This is where my new company is,
To use that mountain,
and throw it in the sea of dirt

And from the plunge of it,
the waves will rise,
To fight the flaming fires,
with the bullish tides

In front of one another, begins the war in my heart
One tries to burn it down,
while other want to crack the walls open

Hey, Neither of them is my enemy, but
both are my parts,
the existance i carry, they shape and mould
my heart

Without flames the heart will not melt,
Without water it will not shape,
And my friends, i have to live by you
Whilst you carry me
Sometime like a phoneix
Sometimes like a hurricane

So that you can continue to
Warm my heart, light in it the spark
From the pain of memories
And regrets of the past
And i go on climping up, up at last

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

⎯

★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

⎯

★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

⎯

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

⎯

★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

⎯

★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

⎯

★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

⎯

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

⎯

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

⎯

★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

⎯

★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

⎯

★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

⎯

★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

⎯

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

⎯

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

⎯

★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

⎯

★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.

Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.

Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.

Hello everyone! I am a 25 y/o male.
Background
4 weeks ago i had a frottage session with a male masseuse (M2M) at a dodgy place. I ejaculated, he did not. 1 week after exposure i noticed my tongue is white. Because i have health anxiety. I was a nervous wreck. At 2 weeks, i did a full std panel and a dna qualitative per for HIV. The results were negative for all. The doctor said my result was conclusive. I am waiting for the 6th week mark to retest.
A week after that i started to feel like there was a lump in my throat. I went to the doctor, he said that my throat and nose are a little inflamed and i have a slightly swollen glands on my neck. Not visible with naked eyes tho. He gave me antibiotics. The sore throat and stuffy nose went away. But till this day i still have some phelgm built up in my throat. Sometimes it comes out green/yellow but mostly it comes out clear.
The white tongue still persist to this day. I can't scrape the whiteness off. Haven't gone to the doctor since it doesn't hurt and does not affect my taste. Since i was thinking this could be thrush, i bought some dequalinium cloride candy since this does not need prescription and from what i read it helps with bacterial and fungal infections. This did not help at all and just make my tongue blue from the coloring. I've been drinking a lot of water too but this does not improve my condition much
Ps: Last year i also had an HIV scare, and my tongue was also white. But i forgot whether this time is a different kind of white or not.
Below i present some pictures and some context to help:
Before: an hour after eating rice with chicken and vegetables.
After: after i gargled salt water, brush my teeth and tongue, and using listerine.
I've been drinking a lot of coconut water too. I am lactose intolerant and have a sensitive stomach since i was a child. Had a reccuring loose stool and sometimes diarrhea.
Pictures : https://www.reddit.comDramatic-vampire1234/s/M2DkF6lAO3
Any idea what this is and how i can fix this issue? Thank you in advance

He hoi me noi my buds. It is your baker man Pirate here. With Human Trauma book two coming to a close in the next week, I wanted to shre with you all the next planned novel I am working on. This time around we will have a stuborn human mercanary, a lizard princess, and one goal---escape Heavalun Mass city. all thats in thier way is corrupt cops, gangsters, the general populace and thier willingness to tolarate one another.
Lets get this Bread.
-----
Shooting up from the blankets, Conor grabbed hold of the neck of whoever was jostling him awake, his cybernetic arm whirring while activating. Suddenly touching someone asleep was a stupid idea to do to anyone from Heavalun. Any sentient from this city was on edge most of the time and was usually particularly ornery when waking up.
He was especially prickly after years of contract killing and near-nonstop battles. While most people from Heavalun Mass City were used to fighting or having to keep an eye over their shoulder, watching for gangers, junkies, pickpockets, or the local police, his experience working and living here made him like a rubber band, ready to snap. Be that a neck, arm, leg, or whatever the poor sod he was fighting had.
“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Conor snarled, his natural and cybernetic eye narrowing and focusing in the wan light of his drab bedroom.
In an action built into him like an instinct, he willed his cybernetic eye to switch to see in infrared thermal sight, letting him get a good look at whoever this was while his natural eye adjusted to the lighting.
In bright orange, reds, and whites, Jurilra's face came into focus. She was a Jurintik, a werewolf like species; while he was human through and through. She had dull brown fur, long, dirty blonde hair, and a gaunt face and frame. The Jurintik was an alien species widespread throughout the galaxy, be it in the GU(galactic Union), Freespace, or here deep in the COS (concord of systems); you can’t swing a pipe without hitting at least two of them.
“Conor—let—-go,” Julitra gagged, clutching at Conor’s cybernetic forearm, her claws scratching roughly at the overlapping metal plates. “It’s me.”
Realizing who it was, Conor let her neck go, and she fell to the ground. He had only lifted her several centimeters off the floor, but doing that when half your torso, including your shoulders, one arm, and most of your organs were non-organic, or at least cybernetically enhanced, was a simple task, and he had done so out of sheer reflex.
“What were you thinking waking me up like that? You’re lucky I didn’t just dust you with my hand cannon,” Conor said, gesturing to the massive handgun sitting on the bedside table. “What in the stars are you doing here anyway?”
Taking a moment to rub at her neck and gag for a moment, Conor pieced together what likely happened. Considering that Julitra was naked, save for a thong, he must have hired her last night to blow off some steam—it wouldn’t be the first time he had done that when drunk.
“You didn’t pay me for last night,” Julitra said, standing up and nervously scratching her furry forearms and looking deeper into the shithole of an apartment toward the room where Conor stored all his weapons, money, and other precious items for barter or fencing purposes.
Conor sighed and scratched behind his still intact ear, the other having been halfway taken off by a frag grenade a few local years ago. After taking a moment to swing his legs out of bed, flexing his sore muscles, and rubbing his palms on his thighs, he looked up at her, having deactivated the thermal vision in his eye. “Fine; in the room top drawer on the right, you will find some bags of Murt and Syntrit. Take one of each.”
“Alright,” Julitra said, turning around and sashaying in that direction, clearly doing her best to move suavely and gracefully.
But Conor knew that was a load of Kret shit; She was little more than a strung-out junkie who just managed to keep herself on another fix fast enough by either guy like himself paying her for a quick lay or by managing not to get taken advantage of by one of the dealers on a street corner.
At least if she was selling herself for the night, she wasn’t going to end up in some slave market in the lower sections of the city or crammed into a skiff bound for a star on the far side of the galaxy. Julitra did have some kids to take care of, after all.
Not that it mattered to Conor if she went missing; there would be another skag he could bring in here. He just preferred her because she never tried to steal from him nor kill him in his sleep—finding another girl that he could trust would not be easy, especially in this shithole of a mass city. That well over a billion sentients were nestled in it did not matter; finding another piece of ass would be a pain.
“And only take one. I know how much product I have,” Conor grumbled, standing and heading toward the kitchenette. The dirty, blood-stained carpet was uncomfortable under bare feet.
God he hated going around with bare feet. It paid to have good boots to keep your feet safe from glass, nails, and other debris. That was especially important when operating in urban areas.
When he was out in the countryside or the house, he would forgo wearing them, and switch to sneekers, but being bare foot still sucked.
“I know,” Julitra replied from the room, “can I use your shower?”
“Whatever,” Conor replied flippantly, pulling down dried stulk leaves and tossing a pot of water on the stove.
So long as she didn't cause any issues with him getting started for the day, he honestly could not care less. All he needed to start the day was a pipping hot cup of stulk, and his stims. On that subject, the datapad built into his artificial arm chimed and reminded him of just that.
He frowned while retrieving the volatile cocktail of stimulants from the cupboard. He was almost out and only had enough for three days. Inside were six small autoinjectors about 20 centimeters long, marked with several warnings indicating that they should only be used in dire combat situations. But he was a particularly unique case and needed them just to survive.
After having a solid forty percent of his body replaced with cybernetics, from a metallic jaw, fake eye, a few replaced organs, torso, numerous enhanced joints, and even a few bits of wire running through his brain, the stims kept him working.
Without his friend Stich’s unique stimulant blend twice a day, Conor would start to fall apart. First would come the tremors, then body lockup, followed by seizures and eventually death. He had never made it that far in relapse; it was just easier to keep his organic parts cranked up to keep pace with his enhanced parts, and the video Stich showed him of sentients who relapsed was a good dissuasion.
Those poor sods were mangled wrecks, limbs at unnatural angles, blood, hydraulic fluid, and bone everywhere. And they were at most twenty percent wired up—what he could end up like was something he would rather not learn.
Dutifully and like clockwork, Conor ripped the cap off an auto-injector and shoved it into his thigh; a dull hiss sounded out as the brackish fluid flowed into his muscles. Just as he tossed the now empty injector into the trashcan, the sounds of Julitra starting the shower and humming flowed into the joint living and bedroom.
While Julitra was showering, Conor's friend and coworker Brakul sent him a message.
Brakul: Hey, conor, what are you doing tonight? I think I might have a contract for us to pick up.
Conor: No plans at this point. I just gotta get Julitra out of my safe house.
Brakul: Are you still fucking that scag? You know that won’t end well.
Conor: Yeah, gotta get my dick wet somehow. Besides, aren’t you still plowing that Kurilta we worked with a few months back—the one with the red hair?
Brakul: Yeah, I am. I like the crazy little woman. Plus, she is only a meter tall and makes me feel massive. But are you in or not?
Conor: Yeah, I'm in. When, where, and who is the client?
Brakul: Perfect, meet me at Zyntle’s around 2100. If all goes well, we got a contract for some new upstart to the north out of town. He is looking to hire some muscle for a few months. Don't worry about the contract's legitimacy; Norla sent this man my way to arrange half a dozen bodies. I just want you there in case something goes down.
Conor: So, bring a few extra solutions?
Brakul: if you would, and keep ‘em quiet, no shotguns. We will be in Zynie's place and need to keep things civil.
Conor: Afirm, see you then.
After switching off the arm-mounted datapad, Julitra stepped back into the room, redressed in her clothes from the previous night. They weren't anything fancy by any stretch of the imagination. Just a simple lowcut dress, showing off a shallow valley of furry cleavage, and cut to give ample view up her thighs and see the thong barely covering her womanhood.
For a hooker, it was good enough.
“Want to have some stulk?” Conor questioned, pouring himself a glass.
“Sure,” Julitra replied, going and lounging at the dingy table in the corner of the room.
They were quiet while eating their meager breakfast; neither had much in common or to talk about as is. The only things Julitra knew about Conor were: he killed people for money, sold stolen goods, and could give her a mean dick down. Whereas Conor knew damn near everything about her, acquired through basic profiling of her actions, attire, and mannerisms or from some of the intelligence brokers he dealt with regularly.
Some friends called him paranoid for keeping such tight tabs on anyone he dealt with; at least Brakul and Stich did. But Conor knew that knowledge was power and was needed if you wanted to always end up with your opponent dusted and not you. Conor knew better than anyone that you don’t survive like he has without a bit of paranoia. Hell, he was more persistent than a Hureclian beetle seeking water.
Once they had finished scarfing down crackers, canned meat, and the bitter, brackish brew, Julitra quickly took her leave, with Conor locking the door behind her. First, the deadbolts, then the chain, followed by a biometric scanner, and lastly, he kicked a metal wedge underneath the door—it would take a whole breaching team from the local government a solid hour to breach that reinforced metal monstrosity, and that was just how Conor liked it.
Unless you were invited into his home, it would behoove you to stay out and not try to get in.
Now that he was alone again, Conor trundled into the room Julitra had gotten her payment from and opened up one of the massive ceiling-high safes lining the walls. Inside was some of his equipment. This specific one contained most of his low-visibility equipment: body armor, weapons, knives, toolkits, and anything else he might need for more subtle operations.
In the other safes were other tools he might want, but those kits were built for more specific jobs: sniping, heavy assaults, aerial and maritime operations, along with anything else he could use in a warzone, but most of that was overkill for tonight.
So Conor pulled out a few items he thought could be useful and started his preparations in such meticulous detail that it would take him the rest of the day.
—-
The area outside of Zyntle’s nightclub was insanely crowded, even for Heavalun standards. Up and down the street, as far as the eye could see, were nightclubs, bars, and restaurants, catering to whatever vice once could possibly want.
Unlike some of the out portions of the city, areas in the inner and lower regions like here, you could not see the sky. Instead, if one looked up, they would be met with obnoxious neon signs and more buildings arching overhead, choking out any star or sunlight that might be visible.
Aiding in the choking and oppressive atmosphere, Aliens of all shapes and sizes bumped into one another with little grace, care, or concern. Most were decked out head to toe in bright neon colors that melded together in a caleidoscope of shifting brilliance.
At least that gave the usual drab greys, rust reds, and browns of the cityscape some color, even if Conor usually found it more annoying than not. Thankfully, neither Conor, Brakul, nor their strange contact could not hear the crowd outside from the second-floor window. Instead, they were being bombarded by something as if not more grating.
The happy tones and idle conversations of the crowd on the dancefloor below them, along with repetitive keyboards, synthetic snapping basslines, and ethereal vocals, filled the air to a near-deafening level. If not for the three of them having wired up to a local chatterbox that Conor brought along, they would not be able to hear one another.
The chatterbox was not fancy; it was just a tiny device Conor had whipped up. That lets them speak normally into microphones on their collars and be heard in earpieces. He had devised the idea for it after a few skiff airborne operations, where unless you were jacked into the aircraft comms, you could not talk without screaming.
Now, the chatterbox just doubled as the perfect tool for having conversations you would rather not have others around listen into. Hell, unless you were inches from them, you would not be able to hear them at all.
Brakul and whomever this Farun’se was, a two-meter tall feline-like alien, had been going over the finer details of the contract for the last half hour. Conor had been listening just enough to keep in the loop, but his focus was elsewhere. Namely in the crowds around them, watching for anything he did not want to see: other contractors, a gang war about to erupt, or anything else that caught his eye. People-watching was one of the things Conor enjoyed about setting up jobs; it gave him plenty of time to keep tabs on the ever-shifting city.
He had not spotted anything yet, in regular vision, Thermal, or through tracking, but something was off—he could feel it in his hackles. As such, One of Conor's hands was in his somewhat oversized brown leather jacket, wrapped tightly around the grip of his suppressed handgun. Neither Brakul nor the Client commented on him keeping watch; they both knew he was just filling the role of an enforcer and was backup for them.
“So, what do you think about the contract?” The Farun’se man questioned before taking a sip from his drink.
Whatever that glowing drink was, it was not ethanol-based; the smell was far too sweet. Conor could tell that much even through the skull-like mask covering his face. Not that the flat black ballistic bask he wore to cover his metallic jaw and mangled face covered scents much. It was built much like the other equipment he wore to enhance his senses, not diminish them.
“I think it is perfectly acceptable. But are you certain you only want a ten-man team to provide escort and transport for your client while within the city?” Brakul asked, flipping a palm up. “I am certain I can get more, considering your daily generous payment offer.”
Generous was one way to put it. The politician the Farun’se represented offered a whopping 15 thousand crit a day for well-experienced mercs. It was enough to get Conor's tail wagging; Most jobs barely pay that out, and this contract was supposed to be ten days long. You could almost buy a house outside the city for that kind of crit. If they were actually paid it out and not betrayed by their employer, at the end of the day, Conor likely would do just that; then, he would have a place to live without the threat of death around every corner.
Each of his jobs over the last few years was a means to that end—escaping this shithole. But getting out of the city was difficult, even for guys like him with opportunities to leave and a reasonably regular income.
“Well, we can work that out via messaging, but for now, I am just offering what I am allowed to,” The client said. “Anything more than that, and I won't be able to pay you half upfront.”
At least they are offering half the credits upfront. Conor must have missed that part during their long-winded discussion about what type of experience each mercenary needed, what weapons they would be allowed, and the specifics of the contract.
All they would have to do was finalize details of the team when Brakul had assembled another eight bodies, but they could do that in a few weeks.
“If that’s the case, then I think we should be good for now,” Brakul said, standing and extending a hand for the client.
“Perfect, expect to hear from me in a few days. Please have your team prepared by the end of the week,” The client replied, shaking Brakul’s hand.
After removing his earpiece and microphone, the client nodded to Conor and disappeared into the crowd looming around the stairs leading to the ground floor.
“So you like the sounds of that?” Brakul asked, sitting back down and sipping at his drink.
Keeping his sight on the crowd below, Conor tracked the client as he struggled to weave through the jostling dancers. The Feline was clearly out of his element in the crowds of the mass city. Based on how quickly he was recoiling from each touch by the intoxicated patrons, he was uncomfortable with all the physical contact forced onto him.
The sight was almost comedic, but Conor was used to dealing with people like the client's representative. If you had enough crit to hire ten mercs, you came from one of two walks of life: you were an influential underground leader who could afford the extra muscle, or you were a sheltered individual with no real business in Heavalun Mass City but decided you wanted to make some friends in low places and needed locals who would be loyal to the almighty crit.
But all of that was neither here nor there for the time being; Brakul would handle any issues with the contract. He was far better at being a politician than Conor was.
“So, any issues with what he wants?” Brakul smirked, knowing that it had been several months since Conor's last contract and that he needed the money.
Conor passively waved at his friend; he did not need to comment. Conor would take any contract that came his way so long as the pay was solid enough. In the past, he had taken contracts Brakul refused for moral reasons.
This contract of defending some high-born trader was in no way out of the ordinary and was relatively tame by Conor’s standards. His last contract was far more low-brow enough that he had almost said no. But for the low, low cost of 100 thousand crits and the fancy nanotech armor he was wearing under his tank top, he was more than willing to blow up the wing of a hospital with a firebomb—insurance paid to fix the building and burry anyone caught up when he killed a lowborn noble or some distant planet.
“I’m more interested in what's going on down below,” Conor said, pointing to a group gathering near the club's back entrance.
Below, barely visible through the flashing strobe lights and low haze of fog machines, seven Kyrail lingered at the back doors. One of the amphibian-like bipeds was giving instructions to the others. It was a shame the music was so loud; if not, Conor and Brakul could easily hear them, but even without sound, it was easy to see what they were doing. They were scouting a mark.
“What do you think, Voodals gang?” Conor posed, scanning the crowd for whomever the lead croaker was trying to target.
Voodal is a leader of one of the area's crime families and merc groups. They had been competitors of Conor and Brakul and their usual hiring groups for a long time. While Brakul and Conor did not have beef with them, one of their usual employers, the Farklut clan, had generations of bad blood.
That rivalry was nasty, to the point anyone who was a direct member of either family would dust the other on sight. Both had been caught up in that rivalry several times and had a negative opinion of the Voodal family and any of their ilk.
“Likely. This is part of a contested city, after all,” Brakul replied, sipping his drink.
“I wonder what they are doing here?” Conor said, still not having located whatever it was they were doing, but he had seen them pull out a particularly nasty drug, giving him an idea of precisely what they planned on doing—abduction.
The gaggle’s leader had passed out plastic bags with what looked like Visage clinging to the bags. That drug might as well be chloroform on the strongest combat stim out there. It would put you in a trance and make you forget the next several days until the effects wore off. The perfect drug for slave traffickers and abductors.
The only reason Conor could tell was that he had used the tactic several times to capture targets alive. It was great; you could fish information from them freely, and they wouldn't remember anything beyond where they had been picked up and whenever the drug wore off.
“I see their target,” Brakul muttered, “switch to IR. I will laze her for yah.”
As his friend and partner told him, Conor switched his false eye to IR and watched, and Brakul’s pistols laser pierced the crowd and danced on the back of a red scalled Kurlatra, dancing happily with some other repltilians of her species. All were woefully ignorant of the Kyrail weaving through the crowd toward them, hands tucked into jackets, likely clutching knives, pistols, and bags of drugs.
“Hmmm, odd, not a lot of Kurlatra on this side of the GU borders,” Conor commented.
“For sure,” Brakul agreed.
Kurlatra were a noble-esc species in the GU and tended to stay in the GU, as opposed ot the COS; most here only cared about their nobility for the sake of making money on ransom after all.
The GU was safe but was overbearing compared to the COS. It had far more laws, restrictions, and limitations on carving out a living. Conor’s chosen profession of being a Mercenary was outlawed in the GU unless you were on the Union congress's payroll, But he was not on that list, despite trying a few times.
“Wanna toss a wrench in their plans?” Brakul questioned.
“How so?” Conor replied, keeping a keen eye on the crimson scalled in the center.
Compared to those around her, she was different. Unlike the others who wore simple clothes, she wore a very revealing yellow dress that was low cut in the back and front, showing offer cleavage, but that's not what made her so different. It was all the glistening jewelry that made her smell of crit.
All those stones and precious metals were likely worth a few hundred thousand crits on their own. That was before you sold her pert ass to some slaver.
“We can go down, nab her after the entourage is dealt with, and be big damn heroes. Then we get an award from that payday of a ruby. If she is not feeling up to it, we could ransom her off to the Voodal; they want her for some reason,” Brakul explained, using his keen eye for diplomacy and deals to guide Conor’s mind to the potential payout.
Conor took a moment to take stock of the situation; he had enough ammo to carve through the Voodal family present and could carry such a Kurlatra if needed. Should this shit go sideways and end up in a firefight, they could just use the crowd and vanish.
“What about the contract we just took,” Conor posed
“We haven't taken one yet,” Brakul reminded, “that rep needs to get back to us with upfront payment. Until then, we are freelance.”
Conor could not deny he was right; no crit had changed hands yet, they were still unemployed, and this bitch might be worth some cash. Before Conor had a chance even to comment one way or the other, Brakul pressed on a nerve he knew would get Conor to act.
“Come on. I got fifty crit that says you can't extract that Kurlatra before the Voodal drug her,” the fellow Jurintik mocked.
The bastard knew how to get to Conor for sure. He was competitive and hated to have his abilities brought into question. Just out of professional pride, Conor could not let that lay.
“Two hundred,” Conor countered.
“One hundred,” Brakul retorted, “oh, look, they already nabbed one of the entourage.”
He was right. One of the Kurlatra heading toward the bathrooms near the back entrance just had a bag of Visage slammed into their mouth and had already gone glassy-eyed. Now, there were only five Kurlatra left, including the clear HVT(High-Value Target)
“One fifty,” Conor snapped, eager to have his friend stop messing with him.
“Deal, I will cover and feed you intel from her. Open channel one,” Brakul sneered.
Without missing a beat, Conor shot up from the table and descended the stairs into the crowd, drawing his suppressed pistol and activating his target tracker to keep sight of the HVT.
Conor did not know it yet, but that little bet, one that was not even worth as much ammo as he was about to expend, would send his life on a journey that would change him forever.
----- So what did you all think? was it a good time? a fun start at bare min? next chapter we will have connor dealing with the voodal, follwed by us meeting the little princess. It should be fun.
Please dont forget to updoot and comment. I will see you all in the comments.
Your Humble baker
-Pirate
-----
Next

Our journey may have ended short of the playoffs, but the fire within burns brighter than ever. Three consecutive losses marred the end, exposing chinks in our armor. Yet, we heed the words of Dylan Thomas: "Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
The spirit forged under KL Rahul's exemplary leadership remains unyielding. His calm demeanor and tactical acumen steered us through turbulent waters, proving his mettle as a captain. His ability to galvanize the team, even in the face of adversity, is a testament to his leadership. He embodies the spirit of raging against the dying of the light, refusing to surrender to defeat.
As the grand auction looms, bidding adieu to our current squad is bittersweet. Yet, it paves the way for a fresh start, a chance to build a stronger, more balanced squad capable of clinching the coveted trophy.
The unwavering support from Lucknow and Uttar Pradesh fuels our determination. Next year, we return with renewed vigor, a reimagined LSG ready to roar. With KL Rahul at the helm, we dare to dream, to strive for glory, and to etch our names in IPL history. We will not go gentle into the good night of rebuilding. We will rage, rage against the dying of the light of this season's disappointment. The future is bright, and 2025 holds the promise of triumph.

Personally, I have never played ultrakill but I have watched it before so I somehow made the most bullshit theory I could muster and this is how it goes.
​
I believe that V1’s yellow lens is actually a hole (like Minos) but the reason why it’s yellow is because it’s really hot, you can like cook a chicken wing there (or burn it) do’t ask why I made this, I made this theory in less than 15 minutes

The new gift-specific dialogue from the 1.6 update has me absolutely tickled pink! This one especially… I also haven’t practiced my creative writing in a while, and I decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later, so here, have a short story! Sorry if it's boring… I’m a little rusty!
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”

Not too long ago I uploaded a picture of my hair loss and someone in the comments said it looks like “Diffuse Pattern Hairloss”. This hair loss is consistent on my entire head and is a symptom of a thyroid disorder. I was also feeling a lot worse and experiencing worsening symptoms. I first noticed this hair loss over a decade ago along with all these symptoms listed below which I wrote in my notes:
Lower back pain
Neck pain/clicking/crunching
Constantly having to pee
Yellow pee even after drinking a lot of water
Sometimes clear when I barely drank water
Not fully emptying my bladder
Sometimes I get cramps(urethra?)
Tired/fatigued almost all the time
Feeling weak
Not able to sleep/waking up a lot
Headaches
Constipation(3-4 days not feeling like pooping)
Diarrhea fairly often
Bloody stool twice
Confusion and not able to focus/zoning out a lot
Forgetful/Not remembering things
Brain fog feeling
Depressed and anxious
Easily angered over any small inconvenience
Sharp stomach pain sometimes
Hair thin(diffused pattern hair loss?)
Tired/out of breath walking up stairs and other activities
I haven’t seen a doctor in years so I made an appointment to see one(Primary Care). She said a lot of my symptoms could be caused by a thyroid issue. After that I did some blood work and my doctor said I have high Calcium and high PTH(Para-Thyroid Hormone) levels. She referred me to an Endocrinologist to do an ultrasound on my thyroid glands.
The Endocrinologist did an ultrasound and said “it’s hard to tell with an ultrasound, but it looks like one of your glands isn’t normal”. He gave me a referral to see an Endocrine Surgeon so that she can do a CAT scan on my neck to get a better, clearer view of what’s going on. He also said the only cure for this is surgery. After I saw the Endocrinologist I went and got a bone density test and a kidney/bladder ultrasound.
I’ll be seeing my Primary Doctor next week for the results and a physical. I’m still trying to schedule with the Endocrin Surgeon around my work schedule.
This disorder has been debilitating and I want to let everyone know it exists and if you suffer from these symptoms, please get your blood work done. I hope I can help someone else who doesn’t know they have this condition.
PS: It took me way longer than I expected to write all this out as I kept losing my train of thought zoning out and kept having to rewrite things or forgetting to add things or details as there’s a lot I could have added or went into detail. Feel free to ask me anything or just add to the discussion.
PS2: The surgery is a relatively quick procedure and upon waking up people said their symptoms were completely gone or significantly reduced instantly. I’m excited.

Step by step I trecked deeper and higher into the mountains. Reprieving myself from the human world and embracing the cold, windy and slate ridden world that is the mountains. They were my home long ago, I feel almost at ease with the freezing wind gusting against my back and through my short-spiked hair. I say almost because slipping and cracking my head like an egg is a very real possibility I’d like to avoid. The summit was still a ways off, but I enjoy the climbing aspect best anyway. Finding the correct hand and foot holds, the strain on my muscles hauling my whole weight and my view of looking over the ranges of valleys, mountains and the far off wooded foothills and of course the fjords. It was truly freeing in a way I couldn’t describe. I’d equate it to looking up and watching the entirety of the night sky. Not just looking at one facet but embracing all indiscriminately and seeing it all in conjunction. It makes you feel insignificant and tiny to nature's machinations. Though that feeling doesn’t come close to reaching a peak. I was traveling through Jarlsburg, a Nordic province that was covered with ice, snow, and fjords. Herders and merchant men mostly occupied the area, farming was practically impossible with the constant cold fronts and not many cared for the job anyway. It was encroaching midday by the time I had nearly reached the summit, when an eagle the size of a leopard swooped at me. Its talons landed square in my back. I lost a foothold and slipped, though I recovered with the grace of a fat fingered invalid. I’m glad no one could see my near colossal fuck up. It circled around for a second attempt and missed me entirely, that’s when I realized it didn’t care for me at all. It was actually after a family of tiny mice hidden in a minute alcove, the entrance was hardly the size of my fist but would make a good foothold. The small rodents all had giant ears in comparison to the rest of their body and their fur seemed to be a yellow in colour. I decided to continue moving up so the eagle wouldn’t have a third attempt on my life. Once I got to a higher point I stole a moment or three to watch it soar. He was graceful, each flap of his wings pushed him further and further into his own realm of freedom. If I was stupid I’d think it a god of Asgard, descended to mingle with us mortals. He had bright brown feathers with black spots on his beak, it stuck out like a sore thumb with all of this snow. After a short time of climbing I finally reached the peak. I wasn't quite up with the clouds but they were significantly closer to me now than 5 hours ago. It’s like I could almost touch them but my reach was bound to my conquered rock, preventing my falling demise. I could see so much of the surrounding area. There were so many branching rivers leading into giant fjords, the land itself was almost entirely white with ice and snow, this solidified my belief that farming was impossible. The terrain was hilly and mountainous, a field couldn’t possibly take shape under its current conditions. Despite that I could see the two villages; Jarlsburg itself and Nautic Row, Jarlsburg was a village of merchants, business and debauchery. It was regularly abuzz, almost everyday new ships came and went. Whereas Nautic Row was smaller and held firm in fishing, herding and raiding other nearby villages. Many of the people kept to themselves unless it was to trade or gather at a Thing. Both villages were littered with vagrants if you ask me. The trees looked tiny in comparison to the villages, like little toothpicks with white appendages jutting from the ground. I tried to take in the scenery all as one. Almost like it was breathing, you don’t just take in the parts of air you need. You take it all indiscriminately and let it occupy a space within you. I breathed in as much as I could of the summits thin, crisp air. I listened to reverberations of the wind off stone, and tasted the tiny specs of snowflakes that finally began to fall. The sun had prepared to enter early evening before I decided to make my descent. The reflection of light on the snow was blinding but it was very reminiscent of the ocean, the way the light bounced towards me also reminded me of lizards skin in glistening sunlight. An ear to ear grin had slowly crept its way onto my face as I realized the perfection of what I was witnessing. A memory that would stay with me forever, something only I alone could cherish wholeheartedly. In this time I had made it back to the family of big eared mice. The eagle had snatched a few of the babies but the two larger ones looked over and fiercely protected the remaining younglings. I can attest as they tried to nip my boot on my way down. I passed them by though I was somewhat saddened and sympathetic to their loss of family, it can be difficult. It was difficult losing my own but we work and push ourselves further than where we were yesterday. Loss is a frequency in most people’s lives and if you don’t learn to adapt with it, it can take you down a dark and depressing spirality of despair and emotion. Those willing to change and evolve their principles or values survive, but many cling to the past and wallow too much on what they had. Not what they have. Me, I am content as a traveler, experiencing the human condition and learning for myself about all walks of life. Having nothing to my name can be bothersome at times but with a few days work anywhere, I can scrape together some coin to continue pressing forward. Shepherding flocks to new grazes is a nice way of working as I can read while I watch over them. Wood carving is another small job I enjoy, you can make some handy things with a chunk of wood lying around. But whatever I don’t buy or trade, I hunt. It’ll take some time for me to return to Nautic Row. I'll have to camp at the foot of the mountain to wait out the downpour of snow. I called back to a memory of a small cabin with smoke billowing out of its chimney. I’m sure the inhabitants will let me stay if I can hunt some food, hopefully an unfortunate rabbit will cross my path as I get lower down the mountain. Speaking of getting lower by this point I had reached the halfway point of the mountain and the sun was about to touch the horizon. I began my scout for game trails and tracks that lead into brush. Not having much luck I pressed forward, though I could still be too high. The cold was certainly starting to creep in now, snow began seeping into my boots and trousers. It could be a problem in a few hours but I think I’ll reach the base before then. After 2 hours of more or less skipping over rocks I had made my way to an inlet of trees where stone started to recede and squishy, muddy snow took its place. There was surely something still out and about looking for a morsel. The forest was thick with flora despite the time of year, the evergreen pine trees looked to be hundreds of feet tall. If I was gonna find a rabbit, here it would be. The looming canopy of leaves above made it all the more darker, hiding the moon's light from me and every other creature within the thicket. After spotting a dead game trail, I decided to give up on my search for wildlife and make way for the cabin. It had become too cold and even looking was a hearty task I struggled with greatly. Perhaps I can rent out my services of work in exchange for a night under some shelter. Even a meal if I’m lucky. In the distance, between the trees of the Black Forest I spotted a light. It was that of a campfire, I almost threw my caution to the wind desperately wanting to feel unrestricted warmth. But my better judgment kicked me upside the head and I decided to be sure if they were friend or foe before approaching.