I've got a Thrawn Hunter lightsaber that I've put together but I've accidentally inserted the battery incorrectly and may have fried some parts. I'm trying to determine which parts I need to replace.
I've noticed the main saber color when I set it to White looks lower in intensity than my other saber with the same color setting. All other colors (red, blue, green, etc) settings look fine, it's just the White color that looks off (when comparing it to the other ones). They both used to look the same so I'm pretty confident something's wrong with it.
Would anyone know what the issue is? I'd prefer not buying both a proffie 2.2 and pixel strip if it's only one of two that is broken.
Any help appreciated!

Synopsis: After eight years of living a nomadic life, one filled with constant danger, Duck and his family have finally found a home in a school for troubled youth. It didn't come with out cost, friends either died or were taken away during a raid from the Delta. But that was over, the residents of Ericson's won, the Delta was defeated and they can finally live in peace.
But one fateful day, months after the Delta was gone, Duck is faced with a terrible discovery. Three horrible words that made his blood run cool.
"Clem is missing!"
Now Duck must undertake a journey like no other. He doesn't care how long it might take. He will get her back. one way or another, he will get his sister back.
____________________________________________________________________
The cool winter breeze wisps around him faintly, as he sits by a fire, reflecting on his past… Coloring with his best friend, pretending to be Robin, solving mysteries… Were this another life, he'd be roasting hotdogs over the flame. Fishing with his Dad. Toasting marshmallows with his friends until they reach that perfect, golden-brown skin. Instead he was thrown into this hellish world, one that brings out the worst in humanity. One that transforms people into monsters; mentally and physically. One ruled by the dead.
Duck closes his eyes, taking in all the senses. The smell of woodsmoke. The feeling of snowflakes gently landing on his skin. Hearing the light creaking of titanic metal power lines. He smiles softly as he remembers this place. It was the last place he felt at peace. As close to peace as one can feel in this hellscape anyway. His smile grows as he hears the sound of crunching snow behind him. “I recognize your footsteps old man.”
Chuckling, Kenny sits down next to his son. “Nothin’ gets by ya, huh kiddo?”
“Nope.”
Duck looks at his father and can’t help but beam. They sit together in silence for what feels like forever, enjoying each other's company.
“It's been a while, hasn't it?” Kenny asks.
“Yea, it has.”
He pauses for a moment, “So we're still having our talks here?”
“Yea, I mean, this was the last place I’d spent some time with you. At least before everything went to shit.” He looks down with a woeful tone in his voice. Memories of that day begin to fill his mind. The cold bite of the blizzard, friends lost, enemies gained.
Kenny sighs, “Yea, that was a shitty day wasn't it.”
Wanting to change the subject, Kenny then glances at his son’s hat. “Still wearing that dirty old thing I see.”
Duck turns his gaze towards the campfire, taking off the old cap from his head and staring at it. It’s a crusty thing, the once orange and white colors now faded, along with the memories that come with it. Duck’s smile falls as older memories start to surface. Kenny knows that look.
“Hey,” he gently grasps Duck's shoulder, “it wasn't your fault, you had no control over what happened, no one did.”
“I know, it just feels like I could've done something, anything, to save her.” Duck takes a breath to keep the tears welling up in his eyes from falling.
After a few minutes of silence, Kenny speaks up, “So, how’d the rescue go?”
Duck then goes on about what happened on the boat. How they snuck aboard. How they encountered Minerva after her and Lilly’s manipulation of Violet. How Minerva was brainwashed into killing her own twin. He tells him everything. Right up until the events on the beach. “So I’m the last one to the cart before Louis. Helping Vi into it. I suddenly hear someone shouting Clem's name. I turn around and see Minerva chuck a grenade at Clem and AJ, yelling ‘fuck you!’ Next thing I know the grenade goes off, the horse goes crazy and bolts because of the explosion, dragging everyone away..”
“Shit.” Kenny contemplates this.
“Yeah.” Duck sighs as continues the story, “Later, after we returned back to the school, I practically flew out of the cart and went searching for Clem, AJ and Tenn. At the time, I didn't know Louis followed me. So you could imagine my reaction when he accidentally stepped on a stick.”
Kenny chuckles, with Duck joining him. “Poor guy nearly pissed himself.”
As Duck continues his story, tears start to well up his eyes. “AJ found us, I expected to see Clem with him, so as you can imagine I was worried. When he told us what happened, I just- I dunno.”
Kenny pulls his son into a hug. Duck lets his tears fall, he tries holding it back but the sobs come in heaves. The combination of his father's embrace and recounting the events of that night overwhelm him. He feels it all as if he’s put right back in that moment, lost and helpless. His ribcage shudders as his tears dry and sobs soften. Duck clears his throat.
“So, how's Clem been?” Kenny asks after waiting a few moments.
“Better, lately. She's been moving a lot more the past few weeks. She's actually to the point where she can help fish for a bit. I think she might be better than you, dad.” Duck laughs as Kenny gives him a playfully offended look, but regains his composure, “She has a boyfriend now too.”
Kenny’s eyes widened a bit. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“So, who is it? Was it what's his name, Gabe is it? Was it Gabe?” Duck could help but laugh at his father's guess.
“No dad, It's not Gabe, thankfully.” and with an annoyed tone Duck reveals, “It's Louis.”
Now it’s Kenny's turn to laugh, “She’s dating Billy Joel!? That her boyfriend?”
“Yep.” He said, popping the ‘p’ as he spoke, “I don't understand what she sees in him. He's loud, annoying, and has a flair for the theatrics. The only thing I will say is that he's decent at the piano.”
“Hell, sounds a lot like a kid I know.”
“Hey!” Duck smiles.
“You’re right… you’re right. You never were too good at piano.”
“Hey…”
Kenny grins before getting back to their previous conversation. “So how’d you find out?”
“It was a few days after AJ brought Clem back. I was wandering around the school, when I heard Louis playing. I went in to talk to him, I walked in, looked at the piano and saw a carving that had a ‘C + L’ on it. As soon as I saw the heart around it, I knew they were a thing. I had a long talk with him.” Duck remembered his impromptu speech. “But, as long as Clem is happy, I'll tolerate him. Besides, if he hurts her, it won't be me that he'll have to worry about.”
Kenny chuckles, “Yep, Clem always had that fire in her… Must’ve gotten it from Lee. I swear… those two have gotta be the most protective sumbitches I’ve ever met.” Kenny looks up, and thinks for a moment.
“Yeah, she’s a fighter, that’s for sure. I’m glad someone like her is there with you, to watch over you and all.” Kenny cheekily looks over to Duck, knowing this’ll get a rise out of him.
“Hey, I’ve protected her plenty too y’know!”
He laughs, before getting more sincere “I know. You’ve come so far since before this all started. Grown, more than any kid your age should have to. I never got the chance to tell you… I am just so proud of you.”
Duck takes a moment before the words come out, for once he’s left speechless. Kenny looks at him, with a look of deep recognition and understanding. The blustering blizzard winds rustle his hair and eyepatch, as Duck looks back up at him.
The flames slowly die as the two talk. Kenny looks down at the small tongues of fire with a look of sad longing. Duck follows his gaze and sighs. “Time to go?” Kenny nods.
Duck hugs his father. “I miss you dad, so much. I hope you're happy wherever you are.”
“Me too son, me too.” He gives his son a warm, fatherly smile, “Let's talk again soon, Duck. Can't be sitting on my ass in the snow alone now, can I?”
Duck smiles bittersweetly, “Sure dad, we'll talk again.”
They say their goodbyes and the world fades into darkness.
____________________________________________________________________
Duck awakes on a soft surface. A crisp, cool smell of the imminent arrival of autumn fills his lungs. He stretches his legs, wiping the sleep from his eyes. As he sits up, several satisfying pops run along his back. Being tall has its advantages, but some days he envies Clementine’s height just so he doesn't have to deal with his back joints stifling up.
Getting up from his bed, he observes the empty room. AJ and Clementine are gone, obviously, he figures they went on their morning walks. Ever since she got her new leg, the two have gone and started walking every morning so she can get her strength up. Willy still boasts about how he made it for her in less than a week, he’s trying to find ways to improve it though. Two months later now and Clementine’s almost ready to start helping outside of the walls again. AJ is really looking forward to going fishing with her. Soon, Duck gets up and starts making his way outside for his work.
Walking into the courtyard, Duck soaks in the crisp early fall air on his skin. He knows they’ve gotta start storing supplies before snow comes. Scanning the yard, his eyes land on Violet. She’s holding a piece of paper and knelt in front of a cross, it’s been a while since Duck saw her doing this. Making his way to her, he hears her hushedly speaking to the small wooden cross. Duck finds a spot beside her. If she’s surprised by his arrival, she’s not showing it. The past few months have been hard on Violet. She shut people out for the first few weeks after getting back from the boat, a mixture of guilt and depression. But she is getting better, and Duck makes sure to be there for her when he can. After all, he’s no stranger to loss.
“So, how's the eye?” He asks hesitantly.
“It's better. Still can't see shit through it, but it's better.” She answers, “at least I have one of my eyes working, sorta.”
Duck smiles. “On the bright side, you'll be back to kicking walker ass before you know it. Meat cleaver in hand, cutting down an entire herd single handedly.”
Violet chuckles, “single handedly, huh? I like the sound of that.”
The two sit in silence for a few moments before Violet speaks up. “Do you… think that they watch us? Tenn, Minnie, Mitch, Sophie, everyone who didn’t make it?”
Duck thinks about that. “Maybe.” He answers, “If there's anything after this life, then maybe they do.”
Violet then turns towards him, eyes still filled with regret. “Kenny- I wanted to-”
Before she can continue Duck butts in. “Violet, I’ve said it before and I'll say it a million more times. There is nothing for you to apologize for, not any more. Yes what happened on the boat was shitty, but Lilly got in your head. You're my friend and a mistake ain’t gonna change that, okay? So you can stop apologizing, because it’s not yours or mine or anyone else’s fault..”
She looks pensive but leans in and nudges his shoulder with hers, “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
“I always am,” he grinned back, then his face became more sincere, “just know that despite everything, you're still my friend Vi. Flaws and all.”
“Thanks Ken.”
After a minute or two, Duck stands up. He offers Violet a hand up and she takes it. “Well, I gotta go, Ruby is expecting me in the greenhouse.”
Violet smiles and waves him goodbye as he heads off to help Ruby. As he makes his way over, he can’t help but look at the trees, their leaves now a beautiful mix of gold and green. Soon they’ll turn to browns and reds, then slowly, one by one, fall from their parent tree and float down and down to the floor. He always admires the beauty of the colors, especially during the transition period between summer and autumn. It’s one of the few things in this world that brings him some semblance of peace. That was until he, Clementine, and AJ were brought into Ericson's. Ever since that day, he knew this could be a new home.
As he arrives at the greenhouse, he draws a long breath, taking in the smells of the plant life growing within. He strolls in only to find Ruby swearing up a storm, her hands firmly gripping a stubborn root. Chuckling, Duck moves over to help her.
After what seems like forever, the two finally manage to uproot the root with a tumble. Laughing, they get up and Duck starts tending the rest of the plants.
Hours later, Duck hears a frantic yelling. Someone’s calling for him. He and Ruby share a worried glance as they quickly leave the greenhouse. As they enter the main courtyard, Duck sees AJ on the bench surrounded by everyone. The poor boy’s hyperventilating, tear marks stained his cheeks. Duck runs straight over to him.
“AJ, what happened?” He notices that Clementine isn’t around, “Where's Clem?”
“She's… She's…” AJ's breath is very shallow, Duck feels the fear in his eyes. Something is very, very wrong.
“AJ, slow down, take deep breaths.” Duck inhales and exhales deeply, motioning AJ to mimic him. After a few moments, AJ calms his breath and smiles meekly at Duck for helping. “Good, now AJ, do you know where Clem is?”
AJ looks him in the eyes, like he was about to cry again. AJ looks down, shaking his head before continuing. Duck’s blood runs cold.
“Clem is missing.”

First, a little explanation of my situation & mindset: I really do like how versatile Fighters can be. Even though they are seen as simple & even boring by a lot of people I still think that if I was to play a martial instead of a spell caster (most of my characters have been either full, half or pact magic spell casters) then most of my ideas involve the Fighter subclasses. Right now I'm making my primary & backup character for the upcoming Vecna campaign since our DM has NO problem with high risk high reward fights & risking player deaths. As such I like to have my backup just in case my primary character temporarily or permanently dies. In my case, I'm looking at Rune Knight.
Now my build: I'm thinking of a mostly cloud & Storm Giant theme, running the Rune Carver background to start off with the cloud & storm runes, respectively. The DM knows that it gives a feat & has green lit it as he allows the entire party to start of with a non-half feat if our race & background doesn't provide it. Thinking Cloud,
As far as ability scores & race I'm starting Hill Dwarf with Point Buy with 16/10/16/10/13/10 then putting a +2 in Strength at levels 4 & 6, a +2 in Constitution at 8 & 12, Resilience: Wisdom at 14 (most common mental saving through he throws at us), Tough at 16 & not ENTIRELY sure what to get at 19. The campaign starts at level 10 so I'll be 20/10/18/10/13/10 & end at 20/10/20/10/14/10 with 285 HP.
Cloud, Storm Stone & Hill runes are what I'll most likely be picking for my subclass starting at level 10. Not sure about the 5th though.
Any ideas on what I should change in my build, what I should get at 19 & what, if anything, I should add to a DM's request as far as magical items (he's currently considering 1 rare, 1 uncommon & DMG starting gold)?

TRIGGER WARNING S/A!!!
Ok so the title is basically it. For context i am now 17 and the teacher is in jail for abuse but no one knows about the s/a. So my kindergarten teacher, mrs. Rachel (ru-shell) was very abusive towards all her students. She had a paddle that had nails on it and holes in it that she beat kids with, she had pills and drugs and alcohol with her everyday and forced kids to eat or drink them, and she had a closet and forced kids to sit in their for hours on end. I remember one time she got mad at this boy and broke his arm, she didnt allow us to play at recess but she let us this day bc she made him fall off the slide and act like he broke his arm bc of the fall. I was the star kid bc i didnt wanna get in trouble but i was still verbally abused by her, we were drawing one day and i colored the pirates skin green and she said that i was stupid and it looked ugly and i should know what skin looks like. We were assigned homework everyday and one day i had to go to a funeral and i forgot to do my homework, since i nv made mistakes before she was extra mad that i messed up. She put me in the closet for a few hours and 2 boys were throwing paper airplanes so she caught them and screamed and yelled at them for playing with paper airplanes and threw them in with me and about and hour later you can hear her saying something like “all you kids need to learn something” and she opened the door to the closet and told me and the 2 boys to come out and stand in front of the classroom, u can see where this is going. She went on a rant about respect and we need to learn our lesson and told me and the 2 boys to get naked, we were hesitant but we eventually did what she said. From there she told the 2 boys to stick their 🍆 into my mouth and vagina. Mind you were about 4-6 years old so we didnt know what to do and she got mad and forced one of the boys 🍆 into my mouth and vagina. I dont remember much pain or anything it was just traumatic. Not long after that in may i snitched on her to my parents saying she was abusive and beat kids and we told the principal and she was fired and arrested, her husband divorced her bc he found out she was doing the same to their kids and they moved to texas from what i remember. Me and the 2 boys made a silent packed to nv speak of it again. To this day i have done so and told only 2 ppl. I will not tell my parents this bc later in life i was s/a again and i told my mother and she blamed it on my father bc i lived with him, my father will prob nv know bc i dont want him to end up in jail. The teacher is still in jail to this day, i dont remember how long her sentence was but ik it was more than 20 years.
Yes this story is true, i get it may seem crazy and like “theres not way” but i can promise u that this story is very much real. I do not want ppl telling me to tell my parents about this bc it will not go well. Im ok now and do not have problems talking about it and i even laugh on certain things. I suffered no internal issues from this.

Our Ring cameras keep missing things they shouldn’t. I’m looking for advice on how to proceed. It will help if you have some context.
My wife and I recently used my VA loan benefits to buy an investment house in what we’ll call an “up-and-coming” part of Houston, Tx. For those that don’t know, VA loans require you to live in the home for at least a year. We moved in 4 months ago.
The neighborhood is not without its charms, although I’m not convinced the pros have outweighed the cons. There are many new-builds going up like the one we bought, a great daycare a few blocks away, and bike lanes and speed bumps popping up every other week. There is good food nearby, and it’s quieter than our previous neighborhood. But the enjoyable silence is often interrupted by loud dogs, car alarms, shit-box Hondas blasting homemade SoundCloud mixes, fireworks and gunfire. There’s one neighbor two blocks away who often gets drunk (presumably) and repeatedly puts several mags through his pistol. It’s always around 2am. One of our neighbors had his second-story window shot out over the weekend. The cops said it was likely random, or a stray bullet, and not gang related or meant to be intimidation. But who knows. We’ve heard people will do that sort of thing in an attempt to ward off gentrification.
We also have the pleasure of living next to an abandoned building that we call the “treehouse.” We share a fence with it. It’s butted so close up against our property line that I can reach over the fence and touch it.
You can guess how it looks based on our nickname. Large weeds with woody trunks grow out of every orifice of the structure. Out of the stove pipe protrudes a plant with a stem as thick as a baseball bat. The house is wrapped in vines that sprout thick foliage from ground to roof. The siding that is still visible is covered in moss. The gutters are packed with dirt and dead leaves. They look like unkempt flower boxes with the many small plants growing up every few inches. The ground is covered in a thick layer of shrubs and thorn bushes that poke through to our side of the fence. If we don't trim them as they grow through, the dogs get snagged by thorn branches.
The treehouse creeks in the wind and the shingles and vinyl siding are beginning to fall off as weeds grow between the overlaps. A few windows are busted out. I’ve seen many opossums and raccoons climb in and out of the treehouse through the windows as well as holes in the eaves and soffits where the wood has rotted. The windows that are intact are covered with blankets from the inside. Each second story window has black, iron bars placed on the inside, which struck me as strange. Most homes in this neighborhood have barred windows, but always on the outside.
Last January, a harsh cold front came through. You may have seen “Texas freeze” in the news. Having lived through two of those already, we decided to skip town and stay with my wife’s parents who have a large property in a small town about 45 minutes away. We returned home to a loud hiss. I immediately thought a pipe had burst. I searched the downstairs, upstairs, and garage, but didn’t find any signs of water. When searching the outside of the house, I felt a mist on the back of my neck. I instinctively turned toward it and saw a puddle at the base of our fence that borders the treehouse. I looked over the fence and through the shrubs I could see an exposed pipe gushing water. The treehouse yard was flooded and was beginning to spill over into ours. I walked around the corner and turned the water off at the street which stopped the hissing and flooding. The power is also on to the house. I know this because, unfortunately, our master bath window looks directly into a second-story window of the treehouse that glows every night around the sill. My guess is a light was left on when the house was abandoned for good.
My biggest concern is a hurricane will hit Houston, as they do, and knock it over onto our property. We’ve reported it to the city but—shocker!—they haven’t done shit. Public works came out once, took pictures, cited it for overgrown weeds, and closed our 311 complaint.
In addition to that, the homeless in this area are aggressive. There is one who is nicer and more coherent than most, and so we try to help him out. But I had to put an end to that after he walked into our back yard while contractors were assembling our pergola and took a beer out of their cooler. I had a talk with him, and to his credit, he didn’t come around for a while. But lately he rings our doorbell at every hour. We finally unplugged it when he woke our 5-year old from her nap.
Speaking of contractors. A month ago they had about $500 worth of tools stolen from their truck while it was parked in our driveway. They knew the neighborhood and had locked the truck. But the thieves busted out the window, grabbed what they could, then sped off. The contractors ran to the front of the house when they heard the glass break and alarm go off, but were too late. And our garage camera didn’t catch any of it. This is when our Ring troubles began.
The same camera also missed my car getting stolen out of our driveway. Based on the 1-hour snapshot Ring cameras take, it was between 11 and midnight. Through a stroke of good luck, the cops recovered the car and insurance paid for everything. It’s parked in my garage right now (which is where it stays parked). We were very frustrated the camera missed the theft as my car was parked directly underneath it.
Our garage camera and gate camera, which have overlapping sectors, both managed to miss a package getting stolen. It was a man wearing a black hoodie and ratty jeans. I only know this because I witnessed it happen. Our home office sits over the garage and my desk looks out into the street. I watched as the bastard sprinted up to our gate, then sprinted off with our chewy order. I found the box lying in the ditch in front of the tree house a week later. The bag of dog food was missing.
The camera covering the walkway from the front gate to the backyard failed to catch an old window AC unit fall from the second story of the treehouse onto the walkway. The camera is maybe 10 yards from the window on a direct line. Fortunately it happened at night and no one was hurt.
I was really baffled when our backyard camera missed our patio furniture moving in the middle of the night. I was letting the dogs out one morning and almost tripped over one of the chairs. It had been moved and the cover was neatly folded and placed behind it. I asked my wife if she sat in it the night before and forgot to put the cover back on. She didn’t know what I was talking about. So, I opened the Ring app. 11pm. Chair where we left it with the cover on.12 midnight. Chair moved to face the backdoor and cover on the ground behind it. The chair was 3 feet from the camera. Someone made significant movement directly in front of it without triggering it.
I have to admit, although this sort of trespassing is common in Houston, it’s made me uneasy. It’s why I keep a gun in my nightstand.
Can any of this be explained? It’s especially confusing because we know the cameras work. My wife and I, our dogs, passing cars, and pedestrians trigger the motion sensors every day. We’re at the end of our rope with Ring. We’ve contacted them after each incident and they only ever suggest turning the sensitivity up, making sure the batteries are charged, and checking the Wi-Fi connection. We’ve tried it all.
I have zero evidence someone is meddling with them. But what else could it be? Maybe someone is hacking them?
Please let me know if you’ve had a similar problem and how you fixed it.

Hey swap 🤠 only thing left is the bugout, take her for a steel hehe. Price reduced. Now 1️⃣8️⃣0️⃣🚢 for the beast bugout.
I am really really downsizing the collection. I was once a spyderco enthusiast and I have switched my taste over to CRK and Hinderers (womp womp). All prices or OBRO. Shipped USPS Priority CONUS. Zelle preferred, but also take paypal ff (no notes).
Now the good stuff.
Updated timestamp: https://imgur.com/gallery/FHcimVZ
Timestamp: https://imgur.com/gallery/wdwYdAw
S90V Bugout: 2️⃣0️⃣5️⃣🚢 now 1️⃣8️⃣0️⃣🚢
Bought this a couple weeks ago now, idk why but i also buy and sell bugouts. I just miss em from time to time and never use em. You know the deal here, carbon fiber, s90v. No cut no carry from me, but i am the second owner. I see nothing that would signify the previous owner did either.
Bugout video: https://imgur.com/gallery/gyY2NxO
Para 3 10v 🦂: 2️⃣3️⃣5️⃣🚢SOLD
First owner, no scorpion etch on this one. I wanted to mod it out but only got the chance to add Rockscale Design Scales on it and it looks SWEET. Carried 1x, no cut however. Bought the scales used so some very minor wear on that and the blacksmith lynch clip. Bought the scales alone for $100, and the $30 lynch clip. Heck of a deal. Centered, super sharp factory edge. Could use some pivot adjustments to your liking.
Para 3 video: https://imgur.com/gallery/xe3qJig
Manix 2 Avocado: 2️⃣1️⃣5️⃣🚢SOLD
Not a factory second, i see a lot of those. Has been carried and cut with for some minor amazon packaging. Disassembled and installed a lighter spring and it has amazing action now, almost too good? If it’s not your flavor i will include the OG spring as well. Some wear on g10 from carry. Centered, other than that, it’s great and sharp. CTS204P steel on it. Comes with black MXG clip.
Manix video: https://imgur.com/gallery/5qJJrNW
Pm2 Avocado: 2️⃣1️⃣5️⃣🚢SOLD
I promise you this as as LNIB as it gets. This is BY FAR THE cleanest PM2 i’ve gotten from factory. Extremely sharp, like super sharp. I put my finger against it and it cut me sharp, not kidding. Comes with poker chip, and a FDE Green lynch clip. Awesome knife.
Pm2 video: https://imgur.com/gallery/w2dt4k3
St Nicks Shaman: 3️⃣7️⃣5️⃣🚢SOLD
I’ll be honest, i didn’t know where to price this because i haven’t ever seen one of these on the swap and no one I know has one. I’m just selling it for what I bought it for. I couldn’t even find it on EBAY of all places. This one hurts me dear to my heart. This was my all time grail knife for a long time. I finally got it 2 months ago and have been scared to use it because honestly look at it, it’s TOO DAMN clean to use. 4v steel, st nicks sprint run. Comes with a blacksmith lynch clip, and all red titanium screws, that’s how I bought it. I don’t not have the OG screws, but i’m sure you can find all black ones on websites. Centered, great action.
Shaman video: https://imgur.com/gallery/wFi1Wl5
940 M4 Jade: 1️⃣8️⃣5️⃣🚢SOLD
Second owner, bought this one with the bugout up there. I try to love the 940, thought an exclusive would make me like it more, but honestly i prefer the original one lol. No cut no carry, great action. Not much to say.
940 video: https://imgur.com/gallery/qekRfSf
As always, thanks for looking.

[First]: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1btq89j/a_victim_of_online_fiction_ch1/
I was midway between my chicken chip breakfast and my chicken chip mid-morning snack when Alex called me.
He was wearing a purple tie with little pinstripes on it – it’s hard to explain exactly why, but it was a very smug tie. The sort of tie a parking warden would wear as they write you a ticket for being one minute and 20 seconds over parked – that is... if parking wardens wore ties.
‘Alex, you’re looking happy. Who died?’
‘Mr Hill, have you checked the number of reads on your stories lately?’
I shook my head, ‘I’ve had a lot of other things on my mind. Just writing the damn things is hard enough.’
‘Oh right... the whole Victor thing... you realise that most of the problems in your life are brought about by you?’
I snorted, ‘If that’s the case, I must’ve done some messed up shit in another life to end up dealing with you.’
He sighed and some of his smugness disappeared, ‘Just check your reads.’
I brought up the stats table. They were looking good. Damn good.

	A Victim of Online Fiction	The One Who Walks Alone
Reads last 24 hours	40,000	1500
Reads all time	721,000	64,000

I closed the reads tabs and kind of regretted it because I had to look at Alex’s face again.
‘I don’t need a new computer – I’ve got enough chicken chips to last me a month, and I’ve already covered my rent for this month.’ I put a chip in my mouth and crunched down on it, enjoying the pained expression on Alex’s face, ‘does this mean I can pay my debt and get the hell out of here?’
Alex’s grin returned, ‘Not just yet Mr Hill. You’re a very special case. A million dollars is a lot to earn back. It’s gonna take you at least ten million reads to break even.
I sucked air between my teeth, ‘Ten million reads! Are you out of your god damn mind?!?!’
Alex shrugged, ‘You’re the one who read all that Wuxia... Naruto vs Goku epic fan fiction.... Battle of the ages, Sonic the Hedgho-’
‘-Okay okay... I didn’t ask you to read my entire browser history.’
‘All I’m saying is you dug the hole Mr Hill and I... being the generous and selfless manager that I am have found the next step to getting you out.’
He paused, like I was going to get down on my knees and sacrifice a baby lamb to him or something. Instead I just shoved another chip into my mouth and munched it loudly.
But even the chip couldn’t dampen his enthusiasm, ‘Mr Hill. You’re leaving the dorms. It’s time for you to go to the village.’
His hands were outstretched like a runner who’s just crossed the finish line. I made him wait in that position as I chewed on the remnants of my chip. Then I brushed the salt off my hands and yawned, ‘Nah. I think I’m just gonna stay here.’
Alex’s eyes widened, ‘Stay there?!? Man you don’t know how many authors have begged me – begged me to let them go to the village – and you just wanna stay in your grimy little dorm.’
I picked up another chip as Alex shook his head, ‘Mr Hill. Can you please refrain from eating while I’m developing you.’
‘Developing me? The only thing I’m developing from you is haemorrhoids.’
He waved his hand, ‘I’m not here to swap insults with you Mr Hill...’
‘...only because you know I’m gonna leave you crying…’
‘...I want you to go to the village. Mr Hill.’ he squeezed the bridge of his nose, ‘I don’t care about your feelings, your health, or what’s left of your sanity – we both know that. What I do care about is your writing, because that’s how you make me money. You going to the village will level up your writing career. I would not be saying this if it wasn’t true.’
‘Why don’t you just force me to leave, like you did with these dorms?’
‘Because whether I like it or not you’re more powerful now. You have people higher up watching you. I can’t just do shi- I mean things to you against your will anymore.’ he straightened his tie, ‘Remember how much you didn’t want to be in these dorms? Now you don’t want to leave.’
He stared into my eyes across the screen, ‘It’s time for you to reach the next level. You’ve earnt it.’
Our call went silent. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for me to make my move. I just shook my head, ‘That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.’
‘Don’t get used to it. You’ve just racked up a lot of reads this month... you’ll piss me off again soon enough.’
‘How about I piss you off right now-’
‘- Mr Hill, I-’
‘-I’m not going Alex. I like it here. I’m gonna save my reads and eventually get out of this shithole.’
Alex threw his hands up in the air, ‘Can’t say I didn’t try. There’s no reasoning with you. Go rot in hell.’
The call ended and I slumped back in my chair. I stared at the blank screen for a while, then slowly I turned my head.
Hera, Astra, and Victor were staring at me, mouths open.
‘What?’ I frowned.
‘Was that the gestapo?’ asked Hera.
‘Yeah. Alex wanted me to go to the village. I told him to stick it-’
‘-the village!’ Astra rushed over and hugged me, ‘Oh my god. That’s amazing.’
I frowned, went to speak, but Victor chimed in.
‘You managed that really quickly,’ Victor said, tapping at his keyboard much harder than he usually did.
‘It usually takes like years,’ Astra said, she leant back in her chair, ‘But look at you – our little Eli, all grown up.’
I stared at them, ‘Did I miss the admission class for this shithole of a place? I don’t see what’s so great about the village.’
‘It’s where all the successful writers go.’ Astra said, ‘There’s cafes, you can freely move around, meet other writers.’
‘All the pros go there,’ Victor said he picked up a can of soft drink, sculled it back and then crushed it, ‘Even the writer of the chicken story.’
I swallowed, ‘Yeah, well, too bad I told him to shove it up his ass.’
There was silence. The girls had their mouths hanging open, Victor was smiling and frowning at the same time.
Astra grabbed me, ‘Do you have a moment?’
I would’ve replied, but she was already pulling me into my room. She slammed the door and I rubbed my arm where she’d grabbed me.
‘It’s too late Astra, I already told him-’
‘’-no!’ I stared at the tears that were forming in her eyes, ‘Don’t blow this Eli. Don’t throw away this thing the rest of us have been working years for.’
‘I-I’d miss you. I’d miss you all too much. I’m fine just here.’ I bit my cheek, stopping myself from saying more.
She shook her head, wiped at her eyes, ‘Go there Eli. Show them what you can do. Show everyone who’s trapped that there’s a way out.’
I touched the side of her face, opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
I stared into those greeny-blue eyes and she stared back, this giant happy-sad-angry-frustrated smile on her face.
I knew I couldn’t say what I wanted to say. So I just let my arms slip down to her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.
****
It took ten tries before Alex answered my call.
‘Mr Hill! It’s not often I get a call back from you.’
I wiped my nose on the elbow of my shirt, ‘It’s not often that you... you...’ I shrugged, ‘Anyway. I want to go to the village.’
He leaned back in his chair, a big cat-like grin settling over his face, ‘Is that so?’ He folded his arms, ‘It’s not going to be easy to regain your spot. They may have filled it already. No one else is foolish enough to pass on the opportunity.’
‘Great.’ I gave a sigh of relief, ‘I guess I’ll stay here then.’
‘Not so fast Mr Hill.’
His meaty hand landed on the mouse, gave two clicks, then he nodded, ‘The guards will pick you up in an hour.’
I stared at him, ‘That’s it?’
He pulled at his tie, ‘No... that’s just the start Mr Hill. I’m going to deduct your increased rent out now, plus a little extra which I’ll use to pay Manuel.’
‘Who the hell is Manuel?’
‘He’ll be your guide to the village, show you around, help you get comfortable.’
‘And I need to pay him because...’
‘Because Mr Hill, I’m worried you’re going to do something stupid. Every time you get a taste of freedom you... how do I put this politely...’
‘...I lose my shit?’
‘Yes. Precisely. Plus, life is very different up there. I want to get you settled in and writing as soon as possible.’ Alex peered at the corner of his computer screen, ‘It’s 1pm now, you better get packing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’
I nodded and just as he went to end the call he stopped, ‘Oh, Mr Hill...’
‘Yeah?’
‘Good choice.’
****
Packing didn’t take long. After I shifted the boxes of my stuff out into the writing area I helped Astra shift her meagre possessions into my room so she could look at the stars each night.
Then we all sat talking until a groaning sound came from the metal door to the outside world. It slid open and two guards – one guy with a moustache and one without sauntered into the room.
‘You,’ said the guy with the moustache as he jabbed a finger at me, ‘You’re Mr Hill?’
I nodded and turned to my three dorm mates, ‘I guess this is it.’
Hera gave me a hug, then punched my shoulder, ‘I would wish you luck, but you’re a psycho like me. You don’t need luck. Just keep showing Crusher that you won’t take shit from them.’
Victor just nodded to me, ‘Take care out there Eli. I’ve heard of authors losing their writing ability to the village. Don’t let it take yours.’
And finally there was Astra. Eyes shining like stars.
‘You take care,’ she said, ‘I’ll see you on the other side.’
The guards grabbed the cardboard boxes that contained my worldly possessions (mostly chicken chips) and I picked up my computer, then waved a final goodbye to my friends.
The metal door opened out onto the dingy, rust coated hallway I’d come through when they’d brought me to the four-dorms.
The two guards’ feet tapped a beat on on the floor as we moved. We reached the end of the hallway, stepped into an elevator and the guard with the large moustache jabbed a finger at the button with the number 4 on it. The elevator gave a pathetic ding that died halfway through. The guard drew his fist back and gave the button a brutal whack. This time the elevator dinged with more enthusiasm and we started to move upward.
The moustached guard caught my eye, ‘You’d think with all the money they spend on you lot they’d at least get us a decent elevator.’
I just looked away.
The elevator opened onto a carpet lined hallway with fresh wallpaper and art hanging from the walls. At the end of the hallway were a pair of double doors.
On the other side of the doors was the brightest light I’ve ever seen. I was blinded as I pushed through and I felt heat on my face. The guards were calling to me but I ignored them and turned away from the light. As my vision recovered I saw green grass, and a tiny fern. They made me laugh. I turned back to the bright light and held the computer box up in front of it. Beyond the light was a blue ceiling with white flecks all through it. It took me a while longer to realise that I was looking at the sky. I lowered the computer box and closed my eyes and the sun’s light – which still seemed really bright – warmed my face.
‘Come on, you’ll have plenty of time for that when we’re gone.’ said the moustached guard, only this time he didn’t sound angry.
I followed the two of them down a row of beautifully manicured cottages. They were wooden with white picket fences – like something from a dream.
‘This one’s yours,’ said moustache man. He was pointing to a weatherboard cottage surrounded by lavender.
I blinked and the guy waved a hand in front of my face.
‘You hear me?’
I pointed at the cottage – it was four times the size of our four-dorm and about 50 times bigger than my first cell.
‘That’s mine?’
The guard grinned, ‘Yeah buddy.’
They walked up to the front door and dumped my boxes of chips and noodles – the boxes seemed tiny compared to the cottage.
‘Do I need a key or anything?’
The guards laughed, ‘No. There’s no crime here. Ever.’ The moustached guy patted my back as he left, ‘Welcome to paradise.’
****
I walked through the house touching everything – the door frames, the windows, the television, the solid oak writing desk. Then I found the bedroom. It was humongous with a king size bed all made up for me.
I dropped the computer I’d been carrying and ran over to the bed, bouncing up and down a few times before thumping down on my back on the mattress. The sun streamed down on my face and I slowly drifted off into bliss.

I haven't edited this, but here it is, all 9 pages, for your reading pleasure. I am very excited to hear your opinions on my critique, and what you thought about it. I loved the book, and I'm very ready to watch the movie in a couple days. I had so much fun reading it. Thank you for reading! -Ari
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An Analysis of Turtles All the Way Down, in lieu of the movie*,* from a feminist and communist perspective
When talking about mental illness, especially with a book like Turtles All the Way Down, one has to acknowledge the sense of isolation and feelings of catastrophizing that come with the mental health crisis brings. The first time you have a mental health breakdown, especially when you’re not a seasoned veteran, dealing with the first hospitalizations and medication stabilizations, one doesn’t know what to expect.
From personal experience, the book talks about the situation in a couple of weeks, but in my personal experience, it took months to stabilize myself, get my meds right, to leave the hospital, and I wasn’t “myself” again for another six months after leaving the hospital because the medication they had put me on had inevitably turned me into a zombie. But, of course, mental health journeys are not all the same, and not everybody’s experiences are the same. Sometimes, it takes longer, sometimes less.
But, I think it is worth talking about Aza’s journey from a literary standpoint from a communistic and feminist perspective because it talks about the human experience that real people find themselves in in the real world, in real circumstances, especially when it comes to the value of the mentally ill in society, the roles we place on our care givers and support systems around us, and the dangers of turning everyone around us into a caregiver (such as “caregiver’s fatigue” or “codependency”).
“I felt my stomach begin to work on the sandwich, and even over everybody’s talking, I could hear it digesting, all the bacteria chewing the slime of peanut butter- the students inside of me eating at my internal cafeteria”. (Green 2) When Aza talks a lot about her OCD, she mentions the idea of C.Diff bacteria eating away at her, and depersonalizing (not feeling like a real person, or being a fiction). I think it’s important to talk about the nature of her mental illness, about the symbolism of the disease because, in the context of the book, she technically is a fictional character, and that her fears are not unfounded in the sense that we are reading about a fictional character afraid that they’re a fictional character. And that there’s a strangeness in that there’s an awareness that she’s experiencing that maybe the other people around her aren’t experiencing, on some level that is perceived as mental illness, but is hyper alertness or hyper awareness.
The sense of depersonalization is the fact that she is being controlled by the writer, John Green, who wrote the book about her, and the sense that she is not in control of her actions is also, not unfounded.
So, there’s a sense of irony when describing her mental illness because it should be given with care and compassion because the irony is that, she is a fictional character, and the things she’s experiencing are real, and they shouldn’t be understated or devalued in any meaningful way in the same way that for a lot of mentally ill people the experiences that they have have value to them and what they are experiencing are real to them and what they are experiencing feel real to them.
“You know how old people lose all shame about eating, and it makes you puke to watch them? (Burroughs 6)”
“They can consume us like parasites, eat us, drink us, and leave us lifelessly prostrate. And yet we are always inviting the parasite as if we are eager to be drained and eaten. (Bellow 62)”
The thing about her friend, Daisy, which I found fascinating in the book is that, from a feminist perspective, although Daisy calls her “Holmsey” which refers to Sherlock Holms, Daisy is slated as a main character type who is always chatting away and leading the show and being the person who is leading in situations. In fact, it’s to the point that Aza turns Daisy into a mother figure and has her, at several points throughout the novel, direct her actions like her own mother does.
“And we will improve your mood until you are able to say three or even four words in a row; sound good?”
“Sounds good.”
“And then you can take me to work, Sorry, but I need a ride.” (Green 8)
There are several references to Daisy even being about the same physical statue as her mom, to the point that Daisy has physically reduced all the women in her life to one role: caretaker and sees them as one overseeing entity.
“Daisy was about my mom’s size…”. (Green 20)
This serves a purpose in that she feels incapable of being autonomous to herself because her mental illness has depersonalized her and made her out-of-control of her actions. It’s very much like she is like Mychal, who is physically described as a baby by Daisy (and, at first, is physically repulsed by the idea of being in a relationship with, but still gets into a relationship with him). Daisy is constantly taking care of the people around her. Her mother is constantly taking care of Aza, even to the point of, during her breakdown, carrying her from her bed to the bathtub, and back again, much like a baby.
And this is because society thinks, through the communistic perspective that mental illness renders us useless and infantilizes us. And, we see that several times throughout the novel that Daisy vents her frustration for Aza in her fanfictions by calling Ayala, the character that represents Aza, as “useless” which embarrasses Aza.
Capitalistic society demands that we constantly prove our worth and value to the system every day by proving our fitness, lest we become infantilized and are deemed “useless”. Though we will receive love, care, and support from those around us, the people who deem us mental ill might never see us as “normal” or “functional” to the needs and wants of the system in a way that is useful to the system.
Which is where Davis comes in as a very interesting character as well as the symbolism of the White River.
“The White River is beautiful in the abstract- blue herons and geese and deer and all that stuff- but the actual water itself smells like human sewage. Actually, it doesn’t smell like human sewage; it smells of human sewage, because whenever it rains, the sewers overflow and the collective waste of Central Indiana dumps directly into the river.” (Green 19-20)
We learn that the reason for the smell is Pickett’s Engineering mishandling funds to set up a tunnel system would handling the Sewage Retention Systems for when it rained in Indianapolis. Pickett got the money twice, for contracts that were mishandled, making him very rich, and through bribery, but the tunnels were never finished.
At the end of the novel, his body was found in the tunnels, dead, which is a strange fitting end for someone who tried to escape through tunnels that he was never able to complete, but also sad, because he had explained that he would try to outlive death by trying to leave his money to his pet tuatara.
It is the use of wealth in the novel that is very interesting from a communistic perspective because the mishandling of funds got Pickett his wealth, and destroyed the natural resources of the White River’s natural beauty, thus alienating the natural resources enjoyed by the citizens. But, at the same time, the tunnels that were unfinished later became co-opted as a guerrilla effort to beautify an ugly space that was mishandled by the bourgeoisie and average citizen to create an art space, in which Mychal showcased the seemingly popular “Prisoner 101” piece.
Also, the wealth that Pickett received from the mishandling of funds was later redistributed after his disappearance in smaller amounts to his children, unsuspecting bystanders of the affected nature of his actions, as well as Aza and Daisy for their silence, active bystanders in the investigation in the form of $100,000.
“We are about to live the American Dream, which is, of course, to benefit from someone else’s misfortune. (Green 23)”
The misfortune that Daisy and Aza had profited from was the disappearance (and later death) of Pickett himself.
“He freely gave to charity/ He had the common touch /And they were grateful for his patronage /And they thanked him very much /So my mind was filled with wonder /When the evening headlines read/“Richard Cory went home last night/And put a bullet through his head.” (Simon, Garfunkel)
But, it supported their college fund, and continued future that would assure their ability to have a more sustainable future without worry or care, a redistribution of wealth in the circumstance.
“But maybe the money is just part of me. Maybe that’s who I am. A moment later he added: What’s the difference between who you are and what you have? Maybe nothing. (Green 78)”. The struggle that Davis had was that he felt as though he weren’t good enough for Aza because of his wealth, that it made him inferior because it made him pompous, that because he because he only had material things to give her, especially in the eyes of her mother, that he was pompous, egotistical, and arrogant.
“They say love flies out the window when poverty comes in the door, but people get the sense backwards. (Dazai 81)” From the feminist perspective about Davis, he was the poorest person in the group because he lacked a mother figure, which is something that everybody else had, and that what everybody else was rich in, experience, which can’t be exchanged for material possessions, are one of the inalienable things, like people.
It’s why have been proven, in communistic theory to be important, though they aren’t necessarily providing a working function to the system because they provide intrinsic value elsewhere.
“The capital given in exchange for labor power is converted into necessaries, by the consumption of which the muscles, nerves, bones, and brains of existing laborers are reproduced, and new laborers are begotten … the individual consumption of the laborer, whether it proceed within the workshop or outside it, whether it be part of the process of production or not, forms therefore a factor of the production and reproduction of capital; just as cleaning machinery does. (Rivkin, Ryan 903)”
That’s quoting Marx, which places inherent value on women, though lesser value and seeing them as wives, mothers, and cleaning machines, as part of the labor force, just unpaid labor force.
The whole point is that Davis saw her as normal because he himself seemed to be struggling with mental illness himself, and that his wealth deemed him privilege to be seen as normal. And, a lack of a support system didn’t get him always the adequate care he needed in order to be taken care of, that he had to be a “strong man” or “man up” and take care of his brother and be the support system (thus, from a feminist perspective, it seems as though the infantilization of mental illness only falls towards women because we often ignore the problems of men’s mental health struggles).
And, as well, it seems as though, through this normalization that Davis did for her, he allowed her to be seen in a way that provided her support, and as well as giving her financial support was able to provide for her in a meaningful way in her future that would change her life and make it so that she was able to provide for herself, despite the fact that, at the end of the novel, she would see many future struggles, but she would be able to gain the autonomy she needed to be a fully fledged, realized human being in order to take care of the next generation.
“Merrick: Ladies and gentleman, thank you… for revealing yourselves tonight. I’ve always found that when I have had an audience, they learn nothing true of me.. But I see what’s real in them. And, if they are lucky, they go home a more honest version of themselves. (A beat.) Maybe that is only what I wish to believe… that my visage could bring some good… (a longer beat.) I’m tired. I’m so very tired. (Martin 50)”
I think there is a fine line of being seen with mental health struggles and being infantilized, and it’s so hard to walk it because most people are trying the best they can do to make people feel supported and loved. So, if you’re helping and supporting someone who has a mental illness, know that what you’re doing is the best you can, and it’s always appreciated. I know with my family they have made mistakes, but it’s what we all learn along the way.
I think my mom has said it best, “we are fragile, fallible creatures who are not perfect, we’re only trying our best with what we know at the time.” And nobody sees the value in you more than your support system. Though, turning everyone into your support system does have immediate benefits, there are problems with being infantilized and being resented, as shown in the book, and working through that to have healthy relationships that are more mature is the way that we work to undo those things in adulthood.
Works Cited
Bellow, Saul. Dangling Man. Penguin Classics. New York: 6 September 2006.a
Burroughs, William S. Naked Lunch. Grove Press. New York: 1959.
Dazai, Osamu. No Longer Human. New Directions Publishing. 1948. Green, John. Turtles All the Way Down. Kindle Edition. New York: 2017.
Martin, Del. The Elephant Man. Your Stage Partners. 2023.
Rivkin, J., Ryan, M. (20170123). Literary Theory: An Anthology, 3rd Edition. [[VitalSource Bookshelf version]]. Retrieved from vbk://9781118718384
Simon, Paul and Garfunkel, Art. “Richard Cory”. Sound of Silence. Columbia Records, 1966. Transcript of Lyrics.

So, me and a good buddy of mine, Hog Meat, were out in the middle of Mothman River fishin for channel cats in my old john boat. All of a sudden this most foul and putrid stench permeated the air around us. It were one of them REALLY bad stanks too, like the kind that makes yer eyes sting and get all watery. I immediately suspected that the smell’s genesis was in old Hog’s drawers, as he had been muchin on a truck stop burrito made up of goat and cheese and washing it down with Papst beer.
“Goddamn it, Hog!!! You gotta warn a fella before you go ripping muddy nukes in your drawers!!! That bout made me puke, you dirty sumbitch!!”, I said. But old Hog Meat just turned to me and said, “It weren’t me.” I retorted, “The hell it wasn’t, you no good sumbitch!!”, and picked up the paddle so I could crack his skull.
Just then came a blood curdling scream from the ridge above the river. Instantly, I knew what it was. It were one of them goddamn sasquatch!! Them sumbitches are known to inhabit this here valley, and they put off an odor that would make the Reverend Wilson slap his momma! That sumbitchin, mangy motherfucker must be up thar on that ridge spyin on us, I thought to myself.
See, them old sasquatch put off a putrid odor. That’s how you knowd they is in the vicinity. Some folks say it is some sort of furmoan they put off as some sort of self-defense mechanism. Or, it could be a wet old fart emanating from their hairy nethers from all of the rotten shit they eat. Or, it could just be that they don’t bathe. Whatever it be, it smells like microwaved dog shit!!
Well, we kept on fishing. I figured, “Fuck that damned old mangy beast!! He is not gonna fuck up my Monday fishing. I layed outa work down at the saw mill just so I could go fishin.” But if’n it moves closer or starts throwing rocks at us, then I would have to whip out my .44 magum and cut down on its ass. That is when the second toe curling scream erupted.
It was like “HOOWOOOOOWOWOWOOOOOWWWWWWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”
Then it dawned on me. That weren’t no damned sasquatch. Old Hog Meat turned to look at me. We both knew something was off with that second scream. He said, “I don’t reckon that thar is one of them boogers. I think that is ….a…” Then I cut him off and completed his sentence, “Dogman!”
Even the word “dogman” sends chills up and down my spine. It am is a big old mangy mutt that looks like a wolf. They can be all black, or gray, or shit-stained brown. They stand up on their two hind legs and walk just like a man! They got them long ears that stands straight up on their haids with frilly little tufts of hair standing on the ends of them. They got them big old ferocious teeth, and glowing yellow eyes! They got no front legs. Instead, they gots them some arms and hands that looks like a tyrannosaurus rex! You know, thar hands kind of dangle out in front of them like some sort of fairy.
Those dogmen motherfuckers are pure evil! They ain’t good fer shit! Take sasquatch, for example. At least when you murder one of those monsters you can carve it up and slow cook it fer a couple of weeks and eat it. But them dogmen, shit, they is uneatable. When I kill one of them thar dogmen I usually just take em off and throw their corpses in a ditch on the side of the road. I tried burning their bodies at one time, but the smoke from the fire made me hallucinate. The last time I inhaled the smoke I wandered around butt-ass naked in the woods fer 2 solid weeks thinking I was Jesus Christ for squirrels. When I finally came to, I was down thar in Wendigo General Hospital. They found me in front of the Dairy Queen making love to a VW bug in the parking lot. They carted me on down to the hospital. They told me I was foaming at the mouth and dug 11 pine cones out of my ass. That were sum fucked up shit right thar! But I digress. Now, back to the story at hand.
Hog Meat had already unpacked his AR-10 rifle, apparently preparing to defend hisself. I said, “Hog Meat, put that damn shootin iron away, you shit head! Everbody knows that dogman don’t attack nobody when the sun is out! They wait fer dark. That old fuck is jest gonna pace around on the ridge top, howling and making an ass outa hisself until it gets dark. Then – and only then – he will skulk down to the water’s edge and make his attempt to murder us. But listen to me. By then we will be long gone!”
This made old Hog Meat feel better. It was about 2:00 pm at the time. I said, “Let’s just fish fer a couple more hours, then leave at 4:00 pm. The sun don’t set til 6:00 pm, and by then we will be back at my trailer cleaning these here catfish and sipping shine!” Hog Meat agreed, saying “Damn, son, you is right! Fuck that damned old dogfuck. Let’s git to fishin!”. I nodded in agreement.
Well, over the next couple hours we heard that sumbitch up there on the ridge, stalking around, back and forth, and occasionally howling. I am thinking to myself, “Shit fire!! What kind of hunter can this here dogman critter really be if it lets it prey know where it is at like this? What a fucking asshole!” But anyway, it did not matter none. We will be long gone soon enough. Then that old monster dog will have to be content to dine on road kill. Serves him right!!
Well, the next couple of hours the fishing REALLY turned on. We soon passed our limit of fish, but kept on a’fishin’ anyway. Fuck them game wardens!! Ha ha!! We was gonna have us enuff meat to put in the freezer! We just popped open a few more beers and kept fishing. Then, something terrible happened.
Hog Meat said, “Hey, I hate to break it to you, dude, but we are out of beer.” He looked at me, and I looked back at him. Then I spoke. “Goddamn it! I can’t fish without drinking beer!! I was so pissed that I picked up the boat paddle and flung it into the river. Next, I grabbed the tackle box and was about to sling it into the drink too, but Hog Meat stopped me just in time.
“Whoa!! Calm down, dude! It’s ok. It’s ok! I got something even better than beer!”, he said. My eyes grew bright and wide in anticipation. I asked, “You got some blow?!?!” Old Hog Meat shook his head no, then proceeded to pull out a half gallon of Jack Daniels. At first I was not very impressed. “Oh, its that fancy smancy, high-filutting store bought whiskey. Oh well, I guess if that is all you got …”, I said.
So we kept on fishing, passing the bottle back and forth between us. After a while passed we had filled up every stringer we had and every ice bucket we dun brung with us with catfish. We had to start throwing them down on the floor of the boat. But after a bit even that became ridiculous. It looked like it was bout time to stop fishin. “Well, hell, I guess we got to call it a day and git to skinning these here fish”, I said. Old Hog Meat was drunker than a drunk-ass skunk. Me, sure I was a little buzzed by the time we finished that bottle of store-bought hooch. But for the most part, I was fine. That damned old store licker ain’t high-proof enuff to twist my testicles, if you know what I mean. I decided to pull up the anchor.
As I was busy doing that, old Hog Meat had pulled out his AR-10 again and was blasting away at ducks flying by. I screamed, “WATCH IT! GODDAMN IT!! THOSE SHOTS ARE GOING RIGHT BY MY HEAD!!!!” He laughed and put the rifle down. “Fuck face!”, I said.
As I was bout ready to crank up the old Evinrude for the ride back to the boat ramp, old Hog Meat got a really serious look on his face. I figured he needed to shit. But that was not it. Instead, with a quivery voice Hog Meat said “What the fuck happened?!?” I said, “You is drunk! That is what fucking happint. You need to pull yerself together, brains-fer-shit!”
“No!! Look around!! It’s … dark! What happened?!?!?!”, he said. I replied, “It’s called night, motherfucker!! It’s what happens after the fucking sun goes down!!!.
Then it hit me. There’s a fucking dogman in the woods. After cypherin on this here predicament fer a moment I realized that the boat ramp was on the same side of the river as that infernal dogman. Hog Meat, now clutching his rifle, knowd it too. “Well, goddamn it!!! You forgot about that goddamned dogman in the woods, you hooch swilling sumbitch!!!!”, I said to Hog Meat.
“ME?!?!? What about YOU!!!!! You forgot it too!!! And you is the smart one!!!”, protested Hog Meat. He was right. I have about 30 IQ points on the old boy. Afterall, old Hog Meat still can’t figure out how his phone knows to ring right at the exact moment someone decides to call him. “It’s like it’s designed to do that, er something”, he says.
Well sir, we high tailed it to the landing. I told Hog Meat that I would load the boat on the trailer and that he had to stand guard with his rifle while I was doing that. Then we would dive into my truck get our asses outa there. He agreed.
When we got to the landing everything was going like clockwork. I was busy loading the boat and Hog Meat was standing guard like a champ. We was all loaded up and ready to skedaddle when headlights from on oncoming vehicle approached. Hog Meat got all excited. “IT’S THE DOGMAN!!!”, he yelled. I replied, “Shut the fuck up! Dogman don’t drive no truck, dumbass!”
In fact, it weren’t the dogman. It was the game warden. He got out of his green truck and walked over to us. “Hey thar”, he said. “Ya’ll been doin sum fishing out on the river today?” We said that we had, and then he asked to look in the boat. There were more than our legal limits just lying on the floor of the boat, and many, MANY more on stringers and in coolers. The warden said, “Well, it looks like you two boys had a good day on the river. But I hate to tell ya’ll this, but you is about to have a shitty night, cuz I is taking ya’ll to jail for poaching catfish!”
“Aww shit!”, I said. Hog Meat asked the warden if he could just let us off with a warning this one time. This seemed to rub the game warden the wrong way, as he pulled out his baton and started beating the shit out of old Hog Meat while telling him that you can’t catch and keep 300 “fucking catfish in one day of fishing!”
Then it happened. Quicker than the human eye can see, that damned old dogman shot out of the woods and flew by the warden, taking off his head with his razor sharp claws as he passed!!! Then it came by for another pass, scooped up the headless body, and took off with it into the woods. Then he, and the warden, were gone! Hog Meat was standing there in disbelief. I said to him, “Git in the goddamned truck, Hog Meat!! Let’s git outa here!!” Hog Meat hastily complied, and off we went!
The ride home was quiet. We were both a little bit in shock from what we had just witnessed at the landing. Finally, I reached into the glovebox and took out a Slayer cassette and put it into my truck’s tape player. The gentle shred calmed my nerves.
When we got back to my place, old Hog Meat looked like he was gonna puke. He started ambling off to his truck, as if to leave. “Where in the fuck do you think you are going?”, I asked. He turned and looked at me with a blank stare. It was as if his soul had left his body. “Git your fat ass over here and start helping me clean all these fish, fuckhead!”, I demanded. After a moment, he did as I said. He knowd I would throw a good beating down on his ass if he did not.
In about a half hour we wuz armpit deep in fish guts. Old Hog Meat looked over at me sheepishly and asked if we should tell someone what happened back at the landing, perhaps even call the police. I picked up a whole catfish and smacked Hog Meat over his head with it. “Fuck face, are you dumber than a dick?!?! Ain’t nobody gonna believe us if we tell them. The way I see it, that damned old dogman did us a real solid tonight. We got away with our hide and all of our fish!!! Otherwise, we would both be in the pokey tonight, cuddling with ‘Big Jim’ in lock up. Now shut yer yap and git to work!”
We finished up and called it a night at around 2:00 a.m. Hog Meat went home and I settled in with a nice jar of shine. Old Hog Meat was never the same after that night. He started staying to hisself and stayed real quiet around others. I reckon he dun up and got hisself a case of the dogman pussies.

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My LO turned 11 months old today. She’s been doing BLW since she was 6 months old and has become a very adventurous eater since she was 8.5 months old. She used to feed herself pretty well although occasionally she might still have some meltdowns in her high chairs or there are times she just doesn’t feel like eating anything. I was pretty confident that we could wean her off when she’s around 13-14 months old.
However since last week she keeps spitting out food during the meal time. I’m not sure if it’s because one of her upper teeth is cutting through or if it’s just a stage that we have to go through. It’s not like she lost her appetite or she’s refusing solids - she would still pick up food, play with it, rip it into pieces, try to have a bite and then spit it out without chewing it. She doesn’t seem frustrated but she would keep picking up, putting it in her mouth, and spitting it out. I feel like she still wants to eat it but she just can’t or doesn’t want to chew. I don’t recall she was like this when her lower teeth were pushing through.
I try to make everything softer - I make sure I steam veggies like broccoli and bell peppers until they are super soft. I make homemade chicken nuggets that’s tender and juicy (which she used to LOVE and can kill one within a minute). I boil soft tofu, make pulled pork or make beef short rib with pressure cooker. She still tries to eat them but spits all of these kinds of food out. And she would get bored and start playing with her bib 😩 The only thing she can have besides yogurt is kale chips - which is odd because it’s not soft at all but crispy but looks like she can handle it pretty well.
Just wondering if it’s just a common behaviour that happens around this age or it’s because of teething? Should I just keep offering the foods she used to eat or I should switch to foods with softer texture? Thank you!
ETA: I also want to add that after she gives each kind of foods a few tries (pick up, put in mouth and spit out), she would refuse eating them even if I try to spoon feed her. If I try to sneak some beans in the yogurt she would still eat the yogurt but spit the beans out 🤣

Most recipes I see tend to be garbage. Is there such a thing as a good homemade bloody mary mix recipe? Like with fresh tomatoes? Or tomatillos even for a green Mary?
Or is it all hogwash and you have to start with a good can of premade tomato juice?

First/Previous
Jack breathed heavily as he dozed in his hammock, trying his best to doze and get what little REM sleep he could. Despite his brain telling him he had to, his body just wasn’t cooperating that well, with a combination of the earlier ‘bedtime’, the rattling cargo on the shelves around them, and Jack clearly anticipating the probable danger ahead all leaving him in an uncomfortable flux state of semi-lucidity.
Deciding to make the best of the situation, he just kept his eyes shut, trying to clear his mind of his worries as he simply listened to the sound of his own breathing and the slight rumbling of the shuttle and he lay there in the hammock with Chiyo.
His battleskin underneath his clothes actually felt good in the heated cargo compartment they were in, in no small part due to his new armour, which had done a good job of keeping his body well-ventilated so that there wasn’t any discomfort when he moved. He had no idea if things were similar for the other armour types, but he and Nika had agreed that it was a perfect fit.
Jack had no idea how long it had been since they started, but there hadn’t been any problems on their journey. The crew had kept to themselves throughout, though Chiyo had been confident they had been drinking on the job, causing Sephy to loop the internal cameras and check more of the containers for anything tasty or expensive, and Jack was grateful for the bag of steak-flavoured crisps the Skritta had thrown his way earlier.
Almost idly he shifted slightly in his doze, causing the figure he was cuddled up to move with him. He had almost forgotten Chiyo was there, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her reassuringly, before all of a sudden there was a sudden sharp wave of force, causing him to snap awake with a start, spotting where his hand had accidentally been for a split second before the hammock tipped over, causing them both to thump down to the ground with a hard thud.
Hearing the groans from all around them, Jack could see that they hadn’t been the only ones woken up by that, as Sephy was rubbing her head on the floor, while Nika was on her feet scanning for threats.
“Fuck! What was that?” one of the crew at the front exclaimed.
“I dunno! Some kind of turbulence!” another one of the men grumbled. “Fuck, rookie! You’ve gotta keep an eye on things!”
“What!? The lights were green!” the rookie exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yeah, suuuure they were!” the first voice retorted, clearly not believing them.
“Um…sorry about that,” Jack whispered. “Accident!”
Suuure it was! Chiyo teased back. Some warning would have been nice!
“Damn, well that timing could have been worse!” Sephy shrugged with a grin. “We’re nearly there, only about fifteen minutes out.”
“In that case, gear up and get ready to move,” Alora ordered them all. “We don’t want to hang around here.”
“Roger that.” Jack sighed, as he got up and began to pack.
*****
“Coming in for a landing,” the old captain professionally called out over the ship-wide comm, as Sephy finished hiding the evidence of their scrounging of the cargo.
“We all good?” Nika asked, as she gave her shotgun a quick check out of habit.
“Yep!” Sephy grinned, practising her quick draw with her twin pistols. “These magnetic clips on our armour are dead useful! Even you won’t lose your weapons easily, Jack!”
“Oh for fucks sake, you’re still gonna bring that up?!” Jack groaned as the others snorted in amusement. “You would have dropped your stuff too!”
Well, even if you do drop anything, they should automatically reattach if you’re in close enough proximity and nothing’s impeding it.
“Like Iron Man or something, right?” Jack asked, earning a bemused look from Chiyo, who obviously didn’t understand the reference, but nodded anyway.
“Heh, that doesn’t work with grenades, right?” Sephy asked with a grin. “That one might be a bit counterproductive!”
“I am very sure it doesn’t!” Alora giggled. “But Clan Bharzum know what they’re doing! I’m sure everything will be fine!”
They all held on as the shuttle made its final approach, before finally plonking to the ground. Everyone was ready by the time the crew had everything powered down.
“So, head to the docks, find the crew and be out of here in less than ten minutes,” Jack stated as if to remind everyone of what they were here to do
“Yep!” Alora confirmed. “This should only be a border town with not many people around, so I doubt there’ll even be that many ships around. Add the fact that the crew is all Megafauna, and the fact they know we’re coming, and it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“Um…guys….” Nika called out as the cargo ramp began to open, and Dante gave a low whine of concern. “We might have a slight problem…”
The crisp, cold breeze that buffeted them was instantly punctuated by the sounds of shouts, screams and bedlam in the distance, broken up by the occasional burst of gunfire, but it was only when the ramp fully extended to let them down could they see the chaos they were about to walk into.
The Cypherport they had expected should have been a quiet, small border town with a simple dock for traders and fishers…
The Cypherport they had landed right at the edge of made the most ghetto streets of Detroit look tame by comparison!
Tightly packed shacks and dilapidated houses leaned menacingly over a labyrinth of narrow winding streets, barely illuminated by the many grimy, flickering neon signs all over the town that cast eerie shadows over the crumbling streets, adorned with gang symbols, crude drawings and warnings, with all sorts of dangerous looking people milling about, from what they could see from where they were.
I don’t understand… Chiyo began. This can’t be the right place? We researched this place, it wasn’t meant to be like this at all!
“Maybe the info you found is outdated,” Sephy pointed out. “But everything I’ve got says this is the place…what the fuck!?”
“Everybody stick close together!” Alora warned as they slowly and carefully made their way down the ramp, with the workers barely giving them any acknowledgement. “Our plan hasn’t changed. We head to the docks and get out.”
“I can plot us a basic route, but I’m not throwing drones up until we need to,” the Skritta warned as she typed a few things on one of her tablet devices, converting the view they saw from the cargo ramp into a basic map.
“Should we use the Broaches of Disguise?” Jack asked Alora, who nodded instantly.
“Good idea, Jack,” the Eladrie agreed. “The less attention we bring to ourselves, the better.”
Quickly activating their magic, the group cautiously made their way out of the tiny Corvin Enterprises drop-off point into the shadowy dystopian streets. Now that they were close up, they could see that the buildings around them were thin and mostly composed of wood with multiple floors, with the majority having steep, high-peaked roofs that dissuaded them from attempting to traverse along the rooftops.
Looking around Jack could already see a few faces of the shady-looking inhabitants gazing their way with suspicion and curiosity, causing him to keep one hand on his gun. He didn’t care what any of these guys wanted, if anyone came up to them with no good reason, he was ready to attack at a moment's notice.
Was this what it was like to be a cop in America?
“Hey man! You wanna buy some grass?” someone called out from the side, and Jack could see a few street vendors peddling their wares from makeshift stalls. The one that had called out to them was obviously trying to sell them drugs of dubious quality, but a few others had weapons or random electronics, probably stolen. Many of the vendors were obscured under hoods or facemasks, making it impossible to discern their intentions at a glance. Jack just curtly shook his head, and kept walking forward.
This is so sketchy, Chiyo pointed out, while doing her best to keep up with them on foot, not attracting any attention by floating in the air like she usually did.
“So far so good,” Jack whispered back, before a shark crack of gunfire echoed through the streets ahead, followed by the sounds of a few smashed bottles.
“That was closer to the centre of the town,” Sephy told them, checking her map. “We stick along the outside, we can avoid that shit.”
“Speaking of shit, fucking hell it smells bad,” Nika growled as her nose was assaulted by the pungent odour wafting around them.
“It’s just like the bad parts of the city,” Alora noted. “The quicker we get out of here the better.”
“Docks aren’t far,” Sephy whispered to them. “Just down the hill.”
“I see it…” Jack whispered back as they rounded a corner onto a particularly narrow street, where a gang of thugs aggressively stared them down as they passed, though didn’t go after them. A few of them whispered among themselves and pointed, causing Dante to lowly growl under his breath.
“Reckon they made us, Chiyo?” Nika asked the Ilithii as the group briskly kept walking, toeing the fine line between casual walking without fear and running to safety.
It is possible, Chiyo replied unsurely. I don’t know for sure.
“Then we lose them in the alleyways,” Alora muttered under her breath. “Are they following us?”
They look like they’re debating it, Chiyo confirmed.
“We can break line of sight up ahead, alleyway to the right,” Sephy whispered, and Jack nodded as he led the way. They turned down the alleyway, quickly sprinting for the next turning the moment line of sight was broken, keeping their footsteps as quiet as possible as they maintained their general direction down to the docks, before finally emerging on the waterfront to a few curious glances of some very inebriated sailors.
“How are we for time?” Alora asked nobody in particular, as Jack checked his commlink.
“It’s been about ten minutes,” Jack told her. “Just need to find our ride and we can get out of here.”
“Yeah, but these docks are fucking huge,” Nika pointed out. “It’s nobody’s fault, but we’ve still got bad intel about this place.”
“Then we just walk up and down and hope for the best until we see our guy.” Jack shrugged. “We know the kind of people we’re looking for at least, right?”
Right, Chiyo agreed. Let’s go! Keep your wits about you!
*****
“Where the fuck are these assholes?” Nika grumbled about 15 minutes later as they checked the various piers for any sign of their contact. “The client told us they knew we’d be on our way!”
“Doesn’t mean they have to sit in place I suppose,” Jack reasoned. “Though I’m surprised that in a place like this they wouldn’t have a guard set up for their ship.”
“Raises a valid point though,” Sephy spoke up. “Could we steal one of the ships and make our way to where we need to go?”
Don’t forget that we need to come back here! Chiyo warned.
“Okay, we ‘borrow’ one of the ships and return it intact then…” Sephy suggested half-heartedly with chuckles from the others.
“We can keep looking around here or we can wait for someone that looks like our contacts to show up,” Alora began grimly.
“Which will take time, which we shouldn’t waste, especially if people have worked out we’re here,” Nika prompted. “Anyone with basic astral sight can see through our disguises, and anyone smart and knowledgeable enough can work it out too, so waiting around is a huge risk.”
“Or we go looking for our contacts.” Alora grimaced, hating the idea herself. “There was a lot of noise in the middle of the district. Whatever it is, if they’re not here, they’re probably there.”
Along with everyone else, Chiyo pointed out. It’s a risky move.
“Do you think it’s a risk worth taking?” Jack asked, not having a particular opinion either way.
“I would frame it as our ‘least worst option’”. Alora tentatively nodded. “But in this situation we don’t want to hang around any longer than we need to.”
“You’re right, but we’ll need to be careful.” Jack sighed. “If we can’t find them, Sephy’s idea is probably the next best thing we can do. Unless anyone else has any better ideas?”
Looking around, everyone shook their heads.
“Very well then.” Alora nodded slowly. “Everyone stay as close together as you can without attracting attention. Jack, Nika, you lead the way.”
“Got it.” Nika whispered, Jack nodding in agreement as he took point, heading towards what looked like a busy main street in the distance. Though it wasn’t as covert as he would like, he figured that they could hide in plain sight while looking for their contacts.
“Eww…” Alora muttered under her breath, as a slurring reptilian almost stumbled into them, reeking of cheap alcohol and vomit as they staggered aimlessly past, weaving unsteadily across the dirt road with glazed eyes before they smacked into a crumbling wall, earning laughs from a few nearby crowds as he pitched forward and threw up on the floor.
“Damn! Wouldn’t want to be him in the morning!” Sephy quipped, as the group saw two shady-looking men approaching the drunk with ill-intent.
I doubt that fool has anything left worth stealing, Chiyo noted as they put some distance away from the imminent mugging.
“Wait, shouldn’t we do something?” Jack asked, only for Alora to sharply shake her head.
“Best not get involved,” Nika added as they saw the two muggers run away, while the drunk guy flailed around helplessly. “Or we bring much worse down upon us.”
“Yeah…” Jack sighed, who couldn’t help but agree with the logic. He felt uneasy as they weaved their way through the sea of gutter trash, not finding anybody who looked like their contacts, but gradually getting closer to the sounds of debauchery up ahead.
As they got closer to what sounded like a wild party up ahead, Jack spotted a small, rat-like Lizta squatting down right in the middle of the road taking a dump, to the immense displeasure of Alora as they gave the degenerate a wide berth.
“Reckon that was the Pooping Bandit?” Sephy joked, as Alora shuddered in disgust at what they had just witnessed.
“Doubt it.” Nika snorted in amusement. “Designated shitting streets are probably the norm here. Hell I’d sooner trust a dirt road than anything else in this shithole.”
Let’s hurry up so we can get out of here! Chiyo hurried them along. With any luck this will be the worst thing that happens this weekend.
“Let’s hope.” Jack agreed as they kept on moving, ignoring the inquisitive glances from the various beggars and panhandlers sitting at the side of the road begging for change. Though Jack wouldn’t have minded tossing a few credsticks their way, he didn’t want to look like an appealing target for any of the gangers and other trash hanging around.
“Watch out for pickpockets,” Sephy warned, as she checked the movement of a mangy toad-looking being who tried to sidle up past them, flashing him her gun, which caused him to back off.
As the group reached the top of the hill, the sounds of raucous laughter, clinking glasses and pounding music became deafening, drowning out everything else in a cacophony of noise that reverberated through the air. The streets around them were packed with a dense crowd, clamouring and jostling as they drank what looked like ale out of dirty-looking glasses, many of them chipped or smashed.
At the centre of the main street was a great obelisk jutting out of the road several metres high that looked like it was made of bright green glass, with white runes gently glowing in swirls along the base, but Chiyo looked genuinely upset by the way the star attraction of Cypherport had been defaced and almost completely blanketed by old graffiti and vandalism, and Jack couldn’t blame her. Though it bore little significance to him, he still felt a pang of sheer disappointment at seeing such disrespect for what should have been a cultural artefact, as a blue-scaled reptilian walked up to it, dropped his trousers and began pissing against it, while another placed his hand against it and puked, leaving a yellow stream along the faded glass.
“Leave it Chiyo, it’s not worth it.” Alora whispered to the distressed Ilithii, who looked like she was about to attack the men for their desecration, with Dante whining as he pawed at Chiyo’s leg.
“Guys? Over here.” Sephy called to the group and pointed. Just ahead of them was a huge building that might have once been a town hall or a temple of some kind, but looked like it had long since been repurposed into a huge nightclub.
Bolting onto the remains of what could have once been a religious symbol was a poorly maintained neon sign that kept flickering the words ‘The Soggy Pussy’.
“Welp.” Jack began. “I think we know where they probably are.”
“Well, they’re not out here.” Nika sighed. “No getting around it then, looks like we’re heading in!”
“Looks like it.” Alora sighed, as she took point.
I doubt it needs to be said, but don’t drink or take anything here, Chiyo warned, as they sidestepped a group of four off-duty Red Legion soldiers who were taking turns snorting lines of white powder off of a half-rotted wooden picnic table.
“Really? Aww damn,” Sephy joked as they politely made their way through the crowd to the front door, where a greeter was hyping up the crowd.
“You like dicks? We’ve got dicks!” The Xarak grinned as he pointed to members of the crowd. “Here at The Soggy Pussy we got lotsa dicks for you to choose! Hairy mammal dicks! Dry reptilian dicks! Wet amphibian dicks! Soft aquatic dicks! Questionable animal dicks! Laaaaady dicks!”
“Lovely…” Alora muttered under her breath as they gave the hypeman a wide berth and headed to the door, past the towering bouncers standing guard at the entrance. For a moment Jack thought they would give them trouble, but after assessing their worthiness in the mysterious way that bouncers do, they allowed them to pass without a problem.
Ducking under the buzzing signs and projections of various disgusting things that would make even Kizzarith blush, they group was immediately engulfed in a maelstrom of chaos. The pounding bass of the local shitty music swirled through the air like a physical force, shaking the very foundations of the building and almost completely drowning everything else out. Overhead, lights flashed and span in a dizzying array of colours, casting the room into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow, disorienting the group as they looked around for their contacts. Overhead, they could see a set of well-used heavy turrets scattered all along the ceiling looking out over the crowd, a sure sign that violence was commonplace here.
We should head to the bar. Chiyo indicated to the far end of the huge room. Maybe we can ask the bartenders if they’ve seen them, might need to throw them a bribe though…
“Stay behind me.” Jack warned, as he pushed his way past the writing, dancing bodies all around them tangling to the rhythm of the music, causing him to almost gag from the putrid scent of alien sweat and pheromones. He kept to the walls as a fight broke out in the middle of the dance floor between a few rival gangs, only for a few more bouncers on duty to step in and royally beat the perpetrators until they could no longer move, chucking them against the wall to take a nap.
Turning around to make sure his friends were still close, Jack moved away from the outer wall to avoid a series of women giving ‘special attention’ to a few guys, their expressions far from focused on what was going on all around them, making a beeline for the bar past a group of mercenaries smoking something questionable that left a sickly sweet smoke in the air around them.
“What you kids want?” one of the grungy-looking Xarak bartenders grunted at them with a sly expression as they approached the bar, surprising Jack that he didn’t call them out for their age, or being here in the first place. He simply guessed they didn’t care.
“A crew of River Giants,” Alora asked the man, slipping a credstick across the bar, which he pocketed with a greasy palm. “We seek the captain.”
“Yeah they’re around.” The barman grinned a creepy, toothy smile, staring at Alora a little too intently. “First balcony up on the left.
“Thank you.” Alora nodded as politely as she could before turning away.
“Finally, let’s find them and get the fuck out of here!” Nika shouted out over the noise of the crowd. “This place is dodgy as fuck!”
More than that, there was something off about that barman, Chiyo added, with all of the group agreeing with nodding heads.
“We’d better make this quick then!” Sephy urged them on. “I see stairs heading up over there!”
Making their way through the crowd they got to the staircase in the far corner of the room, near to where an avian DJ in a ridiculous purple pimp outfit was changing tracks while hanging a crack pipe out of his beak.
“Watch yourselves going up,” Jack warned as he noted the many spills dripping beneath their feet. Carefully they made their way up, dodging a few intoxicated patrons coming in the opposite direction with by now well-practised fitness.
“That looks like them over there!” Nika pointed in the distance. Indeed, a group of about 5 or 6 large green-skinned megafauna were sat around a small coffee table laughing at a joke one of them had told in between taking shots of hard liquor.
“Excuse me?” Alora called out to the oldest one, a bald man with a thick grey beard in a simple toga. “Are you Captain Ripples-On-Salt?”
“That I am lass!” The River Giant boomed out with a grinning jovial voice. “I must say you kids are all here much earlier than we expected!”
How so? Chiyo asked curiously. You were made aware by our mutual client that we would be on our way and to expect our arrival. You didn’t even post a guard on your boat!
“What in the name of deep waters are you talking about?” Captain Ripples-On-Salt scoffed. “We got word that the mess in the city meant we wouldn’t expect you until morning, got some tokens to come here to tide us over…”
“Word from who?” Alora asked incredulously.
As Alora spoke to the captain, Jack had an uneasy feeling as he looked around. Though the crowd was massive, and most seemed to pay them no heed as they conducted their business, he could somehow sense that eyes were on him, even if he couldn’t identify where they were.
“Guys, it doesn’t matter!” Nika told them. “We should finish up and get the fuck out of here!”
As Jack looked around he suddenly felt a strange sensation forcing his senses into overdrive. Immediately dismissing it as nothing malicious, he found himself looking down at his hand where the Ring of the Berserker was snugly attached. If it had actually done anything since he had first put it on, Jack didn’t know, but now for the first time it seemed to vibrate slightly, as the gem in the middle began to glow a slight blood-red, and only grew more intense in feeling…
“Alright, finish up…” the Captain began to order his crew. “We have a-”
“Fuck!” Sephy yelled in alarm, but Jack was already moving, suddenly aware of the danger as he quickly dodged to the side to avoid the knife, before grabbing the Xarak attacker’s knife-hand in a counter, using their forward momentum to drag them in a circle to smash it’s head into the wall in one solid motion. Sephy quickly used her wings to put some distance between her and her attacker, before she magdumped her twin pistols into the Korrigan that tried to stab her while the others had barely processed what was happening.
Sensing thunderous movement closing on him, Jack drew his axe and spun around in a diagonal slash, only for the axe to be caught in a single meaty hand, while the other reached forward and closed around his neck. Quickly letting go of his axe with one of his hands, the panicking Jack grabbed onto his attacker’s fingers to barely hold them back from snapping his neck then and there…
As he struggled to break free from the hold, Jack growled in defiance at the large Ogar man he really didn’t want to see again…
“Embrace your redemption boy!” the Redeemer snarled with a face bearing scars from their last encounter, his eyes staring into Jack with hatred as he squeezed tighter…
Desperately, Jack tried to break the grapple, but the Redeemer was just too strong! Behind him, he could hear the others with their own problems, so he couldn’t afford to stall for time. The confines of the balcony made it difficult for him to move around to try and slip out of The Redeemer’s grasp.
Unless!
His legs swung at the wall as the Redeemer flailed Jack about, trying to finish him, but Jack held stubbornly on. Gritting his teeth, Jack kept his footing, before he suddenly kicked off from the wall in a burst of strength, sending The Redeemer staggering back, still keeping his hold on Jack’s neck. As the two heavy forms hit the wooden safety rail, the long-rotted wood gave way like paper and smashed into splinters and the two figures headed straight to the ground below…
*****
First/Previous
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