Shoulder messenger bags

Hi there , So daughter #2 wanted a messenger bag and while I was going to line with shoe stiffening and cotton , we were in a fabric shop the other day and she spotted this Leatherette in a colour she loved .. now it’s her bag so I’m happy to put it in .. i have never worked with this stuff so can I just use Leatherette as a liner on veg tan and just glue it down ?

Hey!
I (F) am gonna do a travel abroad in latino america for 5 months. After that I want to travel through the continent for about 2 months.
Currently I am looking for a new backpack. I travelled with a old 55+10 backpack before, but I am pretty sure it will be too small for my planned study/travel. This summer I did a month long europe trip. In the beginning it was fine, but during the trip i bought some souvenirs and new clothing and I pushed the backpack to the limit.
And this time I not only travel, but I also live and study in another country. I know, it can be enough if i am more minimalistic. But I don't want to be. It's fine if you are, but I don't want to. I want to go out, dress up, not wear the same 2-3 outfits to university. Buy small souvenirs for friends and family. I know it's unnecessary stuff to take with me while travelling after, but it's worth it to me.
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Some requirements I have:

• sleeping bag compartment
• wide front U-opening
• floating top
• backpack especially for women
• bag(s) inside the hip strap
• around 60+10, 60+15 or 65+10
• raincover beneficial

I also need a daypack for when I go to university, or have a daytrip planned.
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I came across the deuter voyager aviant 60+10 sl. It seems perfect for my purposes, especially with the built-in daypack with a padded back. I like that i can easily pack it in the backpack, or clip it to the front (and don't have to carry it in my hand, or throw it over my shoulders on top of the big packpack). Also the plane-cover (that can be a raincover as well) sounds very good.
I want something very long-term. In the future I am thinking about living kind of a digital nomad life for a few months in a year. So I need same requirements: big enough backpack for my belongings, easy accessible but also daypack for when i go to work in a café or something.
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Do you think the deuter voyager aviant is a good choice for me?
Or should i prefer another backpack and buy a daypack seperately? Which ones can you recommend?
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TL; DR: I need a backpack for travel + study (in the future travel + work). I am not minimalistic (and don't want to be), so I am looking for something around 60l+10 to 65+10l.
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Thanks!

for the last let's say 8 weeks I've been living out of just the front pocket of my backpack and I've switched to a shoulder bag. now I'm shopping for a jacket so I can move from my shoulder bag to my jacket. I am doing this on part-time minimum wage, and I am not a tourist but I'm instead attempting to zero bag full time.
there are two ways in which I am "cheating". first of all since most one baggers and zero baggers are travelers who live in a hotel I give myself a trailer with all the amenities of the hotel. second of all I am buying a new $10 pair of shoes every week and I am buying a new $15 tracksuit every two weeks. so that means that I am going through 52 pairs of shoes a year and 26 tracksuits a year. otherwise my trash consumption and carbon footprint in all the areas is significantly smaller than the average American. I do this because I have listened to countless clothing recommendations but no matter what I buy it seems that my shoes my socks and my pants last me no more than four washes before they get holes in them. I am still open to suggestions of durable clothing that I need to last me at least 4 months of daily washes if I am to wear them.
my goal is to get this jacket and to live in this jacket for 6 months and if I can do that for 6 months straight while living in a trailer with all the amenities of a hotel that I will consider that my first successful zero bagging attempt, and then I will post my gear list and some photos.
as far as I know there are few one baggers in the community who do it full-time and there are even fewer if any zero baggers who do it full-time and not just for vacation. so I think that I am treading some very rarely treaded ground here and I am excited.
I want to thank the one bag and zero bag community for helping me all these years and I hope that this community thrives and flourishes and that we continue to develop new techniques and ideas to make the zero bag life more ubiquitous and possible for people who choose to seek it. I know it is possible to live out of zero bags permanently on part-time minimum wage and I will one day document how it can be done.
thank you again for being an awesome community and all of your support and ideas I do it for you and I do it for folks who have nothing and who are starting from nothing. my heart goes out to those folks who have lost everything cause I have lost everything before in my life.

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

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

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

I see a lot of posts of lonely ppl who want friends. As someone who has consciously taught myself social skills, now makes friends easily, and has maintained deep bonds over decades, I feel qualified to share what I’ve learned. I’ll warn you, tough love and even tougher truths are part of this. If you find yourself arguing, but don’t have friends yourself, ask yourself where that resistance comes from. Don’t direct it at me; take some time to journal and sit with it. This is part of the journey.
I have a lot of info so I’m breaking this into parts. I’m naturally pedantic and have a lot to share. I will do my best to keep it as concentrated as possible but be warned: this will be wordy with no TLDR.
The first part of making friends starts with your physical self. Humans are primarily visual creatures(all genders) and how we present ourselves is the first invitation or hurdle to interacting with ppl.

1. Hygiene: daily showering is a non-negotiable. You can rot on your own time in your own house. If you are going to be a part of society you need to wrangle your body smells so that ppl aren’t offended by your very presence. This is the first tough truth: no one wants to be friends with a smelly person. Use soap and a washcloth, stay away from those plastic nightmare loofahs. Wash every nook, cranny, divet, and crevices. Wash your booty hole and genitals. Change your washcloth daily (wash a$$ last) or use a separate one for your butt. Wash your sheets, pillowcases, towels, robes, and floor mat once a week. Wear deodorant (no, body sprays aren’t deodorant) daily. Some of us are extra stinky due to “stress sweat” aka apocrine glands and this is a common physical side effect of an overtaxed nervous system. Extra stinky ppl need to touch up their armpits with a disinfectant wipe and reapplication of deodorant; lunch time is great for this. Brush your teeth upon waking, after drinking coffee, and after eating. No, gum and mouthwash are only temporary, they aren’t good enough. You still have bad breath. Drinking coffee wo brushing in the morning leads to that extra stinky breath that smells like death. Don’t be that person. Floss once a day. When washing hair, use shampoo and focus on the scalp more than the hair. If you can’t feel the lather on every centimeter, add more to those spots or you will still stink. Most ppl need to wash it twice if they don’t shampoo everyday. Shorter hair, thinning hair, and fine hair need to be washed more often, sometimes daily. We can smell your scalp from far away. Keep your nails trimmed or neatly filed. I’ve had to school multiple men in my life on how raggedy their nails are. Don’t just grow them out until they break off. Keep them short unless you have the time and desire to file and shape them at least once a week. Wash your hands every time you use the bathroom. I don’t care if you didn’t touch yourself, that’s not the point. Ppl notice. Also wash your hands when you’re alone and at home, seriously it’s not that hard. How are you going to want friendship if you don’t value them enough to keep them safe and sanitary? Trim your toenails and stay abreast of how your feet smell. If you have smelly feet you probably have athletes foot. Sprays are an easy way to treat this. If you still have stinky feet after this, keep a change of socks with you so if you go to a no shoes house, you aren’t making ppl sick. Wash inner clothes like shirts and underwear after every wear. Sweat shirts and jeans can often be worn a few times before needing to be washed but smell the armpits and ass, and check for stains before you put them on.

Don’t proceed further until you can adhere to these standards at least when you’re in public. If you’re in a depression and can’t maintain these, stay at home until you can. If you don’t have the energy to bathe and be clean, you don’t have the energy for friends.

1. Grooming. This about looking neat and together. Humans are visual creatures, we judge others based on their looks. I’m not talking skinny/fat, ugly/pretty. I mean that if you look like your life is rough, ppl aren’t going to want to get involved with that. We have our own issues and struggles, we don’t want to add someone to our lives that looks like they are on the brink of a meltdown. Brush your hair and teeth before you leave the house. This is my bare minimum. Curly hair is different but my wavy hair needs to be brushed the same as straight. Combing is also acceptable. Keep an eye on your dandruff. If you have it, treat it. There are many otc options. At the very least shake it out and don’t wear dark colors until it’s fixed. Make sure you don’t have eye crusties, mouth corner goop, or boogers. If you’re showering these are usually not an issue but check for these a few times a day. I don’t iron my clothes but many ppl associate wrinkles with poor grooming. Consider getting a handheld steamer. I personally fold my clothes kon-marie style or hang them and that’s good enough for me. Keep your shoes clean. Lots of people are taught to judge other by the state of their shoes. Notice how many ppl look at your shoes the first time you meet. Wash the white laces regularly, polish and condition leather. Patent shoes are super hard to keep scuff free so avoid them if you are prone to scuffs or dragging your feet. My shoes come untied so I double knot my laces to avoid looking sloppy. Replace buttons and ask a dry cleaner to repair any holes or tears. Relegate worn out and stained clothes to lounge wear.
   
2. Posture. Your posture says so much about you. A relaxed and tall posture says you’re confident and easy going. The type of person we all want to be friends with. Forward head means life has beaten you down. Rounded shoulders says you’ve been hurt but haven’t healed. Collapsed chest says you’ve given up. Lordosis means your core body and core self are weak. Stand with your feet an inch or two from the wall and stand naturally. Your head and most of your spine should touch. If it doesn’t you have work to do. You can’t just force yourself to stand up straight. Your muscles have stretched and atrophied to accommodate this unnatural stance, you will need to rehab your body over weeks and months to regain proper function. Research and watch videos on strengthening postural muscles. My fave that’s easy to explain: when you’re at the wall checking your posture, bend your knees slowly until you can press your spine and back of head into the wall. Stay there for a moment and feel it. That’s the proper position of your pelvis; posture comes from pelvic position not our chest, shoulders, or back. Now clench your ab muscles, they might be weak or non existent. These are the muscles that need to be strengthened. Hold those muscles tight and try to straighten your knees while maintaining that pelvic position. Breathe and hold for 30 seconds. If you can’t do 30 start with 10. Do this every time you go to the bathroom, not necessarily in the bathroom but by tying it to an inevitable part of your day you have a better chance of being consistent.
   
3. Body language. Like posture, we communicate much more than we realize with our bodies. How we walk, sit, fidget, etc telegraphs nonverbal messages to those around us. Many ppl are very dissociated with their daily movements. Take some time to notice how you walk. Do you drag your feet? How would someone describe your walk? Do you schlep, shuffle, scurry? Or do you glide, prance, or stalk? I love to drag my feet and do this at home in my slippers. But in public I am more conscious of how I walk. This is much harder for me to explain. My main tip is to watch out for small, jerky, fast movments, like fidgeting and scurrying. These are prey movements and relegate us to an undesirable social standing: prey. Think of how a mouse moves: small, jerky quick movements. Now think of a panther. Every movement is intentional and controlled, smooth, slow. Go on walks if you are able bodied and start to notice how you move. Notice how those around you move. Which ones seem confident to you and which ones are off putting. Same with sitting. Do your best to sit up straight rather than completely melting into the chair. Don’t “throw” yourself onto someone’s furniture, use your legs to lower yourself down. When listening do your best to keep movements to a minimum. Breathing slowly and deep helps with this. I use my hands to talk when I’m excited and don’t see this as a problem.
   
4. Eye contact. Eye contact is very important but it also varies by culture. This will be regarding western/American culture. Eye contact used to be difficult for me. I now have an engaged and sometimes intense gaze. It’s more important to maintain eye contact when listening, not as important when talking. You don’t have to laser focus, break your gaze regularly to take in the other person’s movements and body language, look briefly at other parts of their face, lower your gaze, glance at the room. But don’t stray for too long, wandering gaze makes ppl feel like you aren’t listening and ppl don’t want to engage with bad listeners. Don’t look at breasts or genitals. Once you’re comfortable with someone you can look away much more or sometimes even look at other things while you listen. But in the beginning you are building trust.
   

Extra credit: cultivate your personal style. This is optional but supremely helpful. A pleasing physical appearance can garner compliments which is a great way to start conversations. It can also connect us with like minded individuals or show our place in a culture or subculture. Hair is one of the best ways to customize your appearance: cut, color, and style are all options. If you choose long hair, make sure you understand that long hair is a hobby; it takes tons of time and effort to maintain. Not to mention the research and trial and error to find products. Especially men who want long hair, make sure you are up for keeping it clean and neat. You will need to still keep it trimmed, learn to part your hair, learn to tie it back neatly, keep it from looking greasy, etc. if it’s thinning, it’s more flattering to keep it short. if you have curls you will need to learn different techniques that take even more time and effort. Same with vivid colors: they take so much time and money to maintain. Go for it if you have taken time to understand the upkeep.
For clothing, any style works. If you have zero idea how to build a wardrobe choose one dark neutral (black, charcoal grey, navy, or chocolate brown), choose one light neutral (white, ivory, light grey, beige), and one medium neutral (olive green, khaki, camel, mid grey, rust, beige). Only choose one of each and preferably ones that look nice on you. From now on only buy clothes in these shades. Focus on getting your basic covered before you choose colors: tshirts, sweaters, sweatshirts jeans, slacks, jacket, coat. There are so many options and it’s a great opportunity to get to know yourself. Do you like graphic Ts or plain? V neck or crew? Do you like sweatshirts that zip? Do you like hoods? For sweaters: turtlenecks, cardigans, pullovers, or quarter zips? Wool coats or puffers? Leather or denim jackets? Enjoy each detail you learn about yourself. Once your basics are covered, choose two colors. Then try to only get stuff in those colors. My pallet when I was blonde was: black, ivory, and beige with red or blush pink. Now that I’m my natural color it’s: navy, grey, ivory with sky blue or forest green. By putting limiting your colors, everything matches and you always look put together. Accessories are where your personality can really shine: loud sneakers, big belt buckles, unique watches, rings, necklaces, hats or caps, scarves, bags. There are so many ways to express yourself. Keep your accessories to your chosen colors at first. Once you have figured out your style and built up a wardrobe that works, you can add more colors and pizazz.

I was reading Vinland Sagas ( Eirik's saga). Penguin Classic 1965 p.87. In chapter 5 "Leif discovers Vinland" Eirik is about to go on voyage but before departing he buries chest with gold and silver. Spoiler alert he didn't reach the ship because he fell from horse breaking some ribs and injuring the shoulder. He said that he was punished for hiding treasure. And sends messenger to his Christian wife to recover the chest. Remark on the bottom of page says that "Burying money in Christian Iceland was illegal." I can't find information about it and though maybe you can tell whether it was more widespread and reasons for that rule? Eventually I found mentions that Christian Church prohibited burying money due to tax collecting so people won't hide money. Does it mean that Christian Church was looking into personal possessions to find money to tax?

I (27F) have an older brother, 33M. We didn't get along very much as kids due to the age gap, not for my lack of trying. I never really understood why my brother didn't really like spending time with me, because he was one of my favorite people in the world, despite all his bullying.
For context, I'll give some examples of what my brother has done to me over the years with some vague age ranges of when they occurred.
When I was about 3, my brother convinced me that red was orange and orange was red because I was learning my colors in preschool. He also used to steal food like tater tots off my little high chair tray and would pretend he didn't do anything when my mom checked on why I was crying (I was NOT a fussy baby/toddler, so it set off alarm bells when I did.)
I think when I was 4 or 5, my brother came into my room after I had already been put to bed, and he woke me up. Thing is, he was hovering over me with a scary mask on, only the hallway light, and a butterknife. Not sure I really have to explain why that was traumatic. I'm still afraid of masks to this day.
When I was around 10-12, my brother kept drinking all the milk or kool aid that I would make and never replenish/remake it. I told him to stop, he wouldn't, of course. My mom was fostering other children and didn't have time for squabbles like this. So I very visibly spit on top of the kool aid pitcher and left the lid off so it was seen. What does my (reminder, 17-19) brother do? He wrenches the bowl of cereal I'm currently eating out of my hands, spits in it, and shoves it back at me hard enough that it spilled all over me. Now, I'm not an angry person. I'm not a violent person. But I was still a child and fed up with being bullied by someone who was/almost an adult. I never tried getting physical before because I was so much smaller, but I hit puberty kind of early. So I splashed the bowl back at him to see how he liked it. He threw me to the ground and hit me. My mom had to break us up and told us we were both to blame, so he didn't even get punished.
Several times, he would turn the lights off on me when I was on the other side of the room in the basement away from the switch, because I was afraid of the dark for a very long time.
We had Sonic Adventure 2 we shared. If we ever fought about something, or I reminded him it was my turn, he threatened to say goodbye forever to my chao. I am extremely soft hearted so that accomplished what he wanted.
Sometimes I would notice my things go missing. I had assumed maybe my mom put them away somewhere and forgot, but I'm pretty sure I know what happened to them. Especially gamecube games-- Those discs were tiny! He was pawning them for drug and booze money. One time he was drunk and admitted he had been selling his adderall for other drugs. That came to a head one terrible Christmas Eve. Brother was home for the holiday and I'm not very clear on what events led up to it, but my parents caught my brother in the bathroom with a baggie of various drugs that he was already doing. He insisted it was just weed, but my parents didn't believe that. I wouldn't know, I only briefly saw the bag, but it was full of both a large green ball of like leaves and lots of white powder. It was a vicious screaming match for a few hours. I hid out in my room on a different floor and played a video game as loud as I could so I didn't have to hear my family. The screams died down after a while, and I cautiously went out of my room. My brother had left the house for a while. I had a few holiday assignments and decided to just crank them out while my family cooled off, and I did it at the dining room table because that's where our Christmas tree was too and I desperately needed that good cheer magic. I was quietly writing, not saying anything, not making much noise, when my brother came back in the house. He stopped off at the kitchen for something and muttered something rude and belittling to me. At this point I'm a preeten-early teen and he had already ruined the day that had always been magical to me before, as my grandma used to stay over with us on Christmas Eve. She had died rather recently at the time. And I can't tell you exactly what I said. I think I've blocked out as much as I can. I made some snide remark, something like 'at least I don't do drugs' and in the next second I was yanked out of my chair. My brother picked me up by the neck and slammed me against the wall. I know I clawed and kicked against the wall as hard as I could. I blacked out, and I woke up on the floor with my parents absolutely screaming at him that he could have killed me. As a side note to the whole ordeal, he never apologized, and it's made my adult life a lot harder as weed becomes more and more commonplace. Just the thought of it used to send me in a panic attack, I could feel the hands choking me again. I've gotten better about dealing with it, but I still refuse to have it in any part of my life whatsoever. It's cost me a few relationships.
When I was in college, my brother had moved back in with me and my parents because his girlfriend dumped him for being a piece of shit that worked at walmart and did nothing but drink all day despite having a state paid scholarship, that he wasted, because he couldn't keep his GPA above 2.8. He was a music major. The classes he took were things like 'History of Jimi Hendrix' and 'The Beatles'. He just partied too much to even attend class. He took the dog they got with him, not at all prepared for her. The dog is a high energy breed that is difficult to train, and we had two small 5-10 pound dogs at home. At 1 year old, bro's dog was about 30 pounds. He often left for several hours during summers/breaks when I was home, without telling anyone, knowing that I would either hear the dog cry if he crated them and feel bad and let them out or that I wouldn't banish them to a crate if they were already in a room with me. The dog bullied our other dogs and bit at everyone. Dog was incredibly overly protective of my brother-- Trait of the breed. I was back at college for a few months and had spent a good month mourning the loss of a 5 year relationship. I never really heard anything from him. Then out of the blue, my brother asks me if I can let him and dog stay for the night (we live 2 hours from the college) because my mom had kicked him out. The dog had bit her and she snapped at my brother to control his f'ing dog and he responded by calling her, the woman who birthed him, payed for his other college costs, paid back loans he promised to pay to other family members, never charged him rent, and he called her a f'ing female dog. She snapped. While I agree that my mom was completely in the right to do that, I have too soft of a heart to just leave him with nowhere to go. He promised it was just a night so he could get in touch with some friends closer to home and figure shit out. I let him come to me.
I really regret that decision.
At the time I had a new roommate (she was very nice though, I liked her) and a sort of FWB who doted on me for a little while. I texted FWB and asked if he could bring some alcohol by-- I was still 19 at the time, underage to buy it, but FWB was old enough and agreed the man could probably do with a drink. We stayed out on our little porch area to make sure that we wouldn't be disturbing my roomie in any way while we socialized. My brother got really wasted. He told me terrible things about our deceased grandmother (who he knew I had really loved growing up, and had no idea about who she really was because she had always loved me). And he laughed. He laughed when he saw the discomfort on my face. My FWB was feeling pretty bad for me and suggested we go to bed because it was also like 3 in the morning and both of us had class in the morning, so we go inside. The apartment has a shared common room/living room, little kitchen area, and laundry closet. My bedroom is on one side and roomie's was on the other-- Both bathrooms are also ensuite to the bedroom. So I went in and changed out of my clothes into something comfier to sleep in and crawled into my bed, letting my brother do his own thing in the bathroom. I'm just trying to rest and suddenly my brother is pulling me out of my bed and dragging me out of my own room. He's yelling that he's taking my bed, did I really expect him to take the couch? And I'm not very confrontational. I'm flustered, tired, and honestly a little afraid after the neck choke incident. FWB steps in like a hero and tries to calmly explain that its my bed, and I will sleep in it, I have been kind enough to let him stay and he should not be so ungrateful. Brother fucking loses his mind. Starts screaming his head off about how selfish I am and how reliant I am on our parents and won't be able to do anything on my own as an adult (I was financially dependent on my parents at 19 while in college, shocker). He starts drunkenly trying to pick up his dog's toys and searching for his keys, and both FWB and I step in and tell him he can't go driving like this, after like half a bottle of fireball. He at least needs to sober up before he can drive. I stand in front of the front door, as my brother is still searching for his keys, and there is no way I'm letting him out of here right now. Brother has found his keys, and starts pulling at me and hurting me. Lucky for me, FWB had been a pretty good wrestler in highschool. He got my brother pinned down and I snatched the keys, hiding over by the sink in case I had to throw them in there. He's screaming his head off and my poor roommate comes out and asks what the hell is going on because she knows I'm very quiet and tend to keep visitors in my room. I'm like half sobbing trying to explain and the FWB, still pinning my brother, tells her that we're trying to keep him from drunk driving. My roommate does not play around with that. She was in nursing school, and had recently lost a friend to a drunk driver. I don't know how it worked, but she put on her stern nurse tone and told my brother that he was free to leave when he sobered up, or she herself would be calling the cops on him, and both me and FWB could press additional charges for assault. He reluctantly agreed to this condition and FWB let him off the floor, but sat in front of the front door just in case. When he was sobered up, he left, saying 'I hope you like mom and dad, because I'm not your family anymore'.
And that was devastating. I couldn't stop crying. My FWB went back to bed with me and laid me down in bed and let me cry until I passed out. He skipped his class that day to be there for me. I know I don't paint a good picture of my brother, but I did/do love him. I thought now that we were older that he'd mellowed out and we could be good friends like I always wanted. I mean, I made like 300 fake facebook accounts back in the day to vote for his band to be a headliner at a large concert. Just a few years prior when he was home on a break he introduced me to a TV show we binged and he let my lay on his shoulder. (I was/am very touch starved but paralyzed by fear that I'm annoying the other person, and all my friends were made later in life and are states away). When Pokemon Go came out we would take late night drives around quiet places of town while hunting pokemon together. We traded off the controller on online battlefield games and compared scores and the most ridiculous deaths. I really thought that he loved me too, finally, after years of resentment.
He didn't speak to me for 2 years. I didn't find out until later, but my parents lied for him on my behalf that he still loved me and was just annoyed, and gave me birthday/christmas presents that they told me had been from him, just that he was working. I really treasured those objects when I didn't know the truth about them. I got a really stupid mug with the first letter of my name on it in pink and zebra print (two things I don't really enjoy) but I used that thing every single day.
So, these are glimpses into my previous relationship with my brother. I don't really remember when he started speaking to me again, but I sure know he never apologized. He had finally hit rock bottom and asked my father to put in a good word for him at (insert facility with decent pay and good benefits but hard work), which he had previously rejected by telling my parents that it was a shit job. My brother's name got put closer to the top of the resumes. He got in. It wasn't easy work, or comfy sometimes, but it paid well enough to endure that, I guess. My brother used to be rather athletic.
Between the cut off point and then, my brother had worked at a (also generic job) a town or two over and hated the commute. He also happened to find a girlfriend with an apartment sort of close by. She didn't like having him over because of his dog, and almost never let him do any overnight. But now that my brother had a better paying job, she was willing to move in with him, of course. My brother bought a house in our home town and she came with it. She pays a ridiculously low amount of rent to my brother.
If she was home and brother wasn't, the dog stayed crated up because she didn't want to deal with it. Both of them worked, but her job isn't at all difficult. And yet somehow, sometimes pulling doubles, my brother ended up doing most of everything. My brother, who didn't learn to do his laundry until his 20s, ate pizza every single day, and had left used condoms on the floor of his bedroom in our parents house when he left. He did most of the cooking because she says she's bad at it. But will make pies for her mom. When the holidays came around, instead of discussing or rotating, they will always go to her family first. If my brother can come to ours at all. He often misses entire occassions (we don't go out big, but like, cmon. Hand your dad the gift card on his birthday at least, not 2 weeks later).
I also used to get to hangout or see my brother sometimes. Maybe once every few weeks, and it was fun! It was the friendship I had always dreamt of. Now I can't even get him to do anything online with me from the comfort of his own home. I don't have a single text from him this year past 1/27.
At first, we all understood. She was quirky. I was quirky. We share several similar traits and interests. I used to like that and be excited to have a family member like me, but now I dread the day she becomes family.
Let's start with the smoking car. Me and my parents were driving near his street so we could cut through to the highway, and out of nowhere, black smoke starts coming from the hood. My father tells me and my mom to get out and he'll get it to my brother's and out of the road to look at it and see what was going on. This was like.... early August. It was very hot outside. Since I've 'been in the house before' and 'know what it's like' I am 'allowed' to come into my brother's house to cool off. But GF refuses letting in either of them, referring to the messy state of the house. Which, okay, fair-- But its HER messes. My brother cleans up after her. I learned later that GF snapped at him about his family always coming over unannounced and how she has to hurry to put on a bra and everything is messy and we can't just drop in its rude! She says, as her mother and brother do the exact same thing, in a house she doesn't own. But my family let it be water under the bridge for now. My brother called me a f'in a'hole for telling my mom about the conversation. Because my mom was livid.
The next thing is my father. My dad's family has a pretty big history of strokes and heart attacks, and he's had one heart attack. My dad had been in pain all day and he finally gave up at about 3AM and woke my mom up to drive him to the hospital. I don't have a license at this point, so there's little that I can do. My mom says the surgery he probably needs isn't even done here and they're transferring him, my mom asked me to keep my brother in the loop. So I told him about this and about the time they would reach the hospital, because my mom dad gran and I share locations. I asked if he would take me up, I had a bag full of things that might make him more comfortable or less stressed. The hospital they're taking our dad to is a little over an hour away. Everyone is more or less frantic. My brother is talking to work for him, I'm making sure that for however many hours that our pets will be okay and talking to my mom's work. We drive there and nothing major happens, but it was so... Uncomfortable? Tense. The thing that's hurting my dad is a blocked or enlarged blood vessel that cuts off oxygen to the tissue around it, which, cells die, and you really need your colon, the area my dad has an issue with. The thing is, until they can do the surgery, it was like he was a ticking time bomb. My brother takes me home when visitor hours are over and I hold my dogs tight. The next day is filled with lots of pricks pokes and prods at my dad so we don't go that day. We do go the day after, Friday. My brother's GF is in the truck with him. I'm not really paying attention to much of anything because for all we know my dad could die before we got there. Brothers' GF goes to get some snacks from the long drive and the fact that she's not exactly family yet. My brother, mom and I rotate who is away in the cafe and eating with GF. I see GF and my brother whispering angrily at each other. She's tugging at his arm. I manage to pick up 'We're going to miss my mom's dinner!" And I am just stunned. Her mother has a small family dinner every single friday and makes meatloaf. His GF wanted us to head back from our critical father, because she didn't want to miss a weekly event. And I really have to hand it to my brother for not snapping right then and there. He waited until we were in his truck and out of the hospital parking lot and says "How in the f'ck do you say something to me like that? Like, for real, wtf!" GF starts crying and says its a family tradition and her mom is all she has left-- False. She has her mom, sister, and brother, at least. Her father died in a car incident that hospitalized her as a kid. So my brother snaps again like 'are you seriously telling me you value a f'ing loaf of meat over a life? we have no idea what will happen, my dad could die within the hour and i'm not there, he could die tomorrow, how long d-" And GF cuts him off wailing that her dad is dead. Which, yes, is a horrifyingly traumatic experience. But she does not get to play the 'my dad is dead' card ten years after the fact, to justify leaving our possibly dying father before visiting hours ended. She tried to emotionally blackmail my brother by apologizing to me through tears that this must be so hard for me but honestly I was doing my best to block it out, staring at pictures of dogs in hammocks. I shared my brother's sentiment.
But wait, there's more! Remember that car accident GF had years ago? You would think that, if nothing else, she would be empathetic for someone/their family in a car crash? You'd be wrong! I was rear ended at 60 mph right in front of my house after coming home from work (the ambulance took me straight back to work lmao). The physical damage to me was pretty minimal, bruises and a sprained ankle because my foot was pressed on the brake, waiting for an opportunity to cross into the driveway. This was late October 2020. Covid regulations were pretty strict. So I was alone in a room for a while and in pain. My parents had followed the ambulance. My dad had actually heard the crash and went 'huh she usually comes home now' and runs over after seeing the wreckage. My parents had the crash footage, grainy, but there thanks to the cameras set up outside our house. I hadn't realized it by that point but I had a pretty good concussion, and I was hurt, and scared. I was texting my mom constantly but my dad had left his phone at home in the rush to get my mom and she hadn't charged her phone, they'd been in the parking lot for like an hour and a half already. They promised me they'd be back soon, they'll just pop in and let my brother know since he lives nearby. My parents didn't even ask to like, stay and sit with them instead of a cold car. My mom asked to pee and to borrow a charging cable (they had one, GF has the same model phone) given the, you know, situation. My brother barely cracked the door to speak with them. He said no, because GF was uncomfortable, because they were waiting for their second negative test to come in. Read that again. They had tested negative. It's not like my mom would go near anyone to the bathroom either-- The back door that's used more often is literally inches away from the bathroom door. My brother didn't even try to argue with his GF about his own home and some empathy for someone else dealing with a car crash. It absolutely disgusted my parents. And later on brother told me he got another earful about our parents just dropping in without notice and its like? Excuse me? Its his house!
Unfortunately, a tire popped on my parents' car when we were nearby. It was like, 3 years since the first issue with the car. I went inside and asked my brother to let my mom in because its raining. GF did not like that, and didn't realize I could overhear her down the hall, arguing with my brother and his family again. I went over the next day to my brother and he was actively cleaning up GF's mess so it wouldn't be as 'embarassing' for her. I sat him down and talked to him as realistically as I could. I have depression, anxiety, emotional abuse trauma, agorophobia, and very few friends. But I'm okay. He started very quietly expressing his frustration towards GF. She doesn't do much around the house or contribute financially, lets her family over but not his, him doing most of the cooking despite regularly pulling 12s. I sat there calmly, because of course I knew this. This is what makes the situation somewhat even more sticky. I asked my brother, "Do you actually love someone like that? Or are you afraid to be alone?" He's been in one relationship or another for most of my life. Lately he had been confiding in me about how bad his mental health was falling and I was like 'that's not a slump, that's. that's depression.' So when I asked my brother the question, he hesitated. That spoke loudly enough in my opinion. But then I also saw my brother's face crumpling as he admitted he just didn't want to be alone. GF wants babies but my brother knows with her medical history and condition on top of being so lazy and bluntly told me she would not be a good mother and hopes to God that day doesn't come. He is so unhappy being with her. We both heard the rustling of a comforter and my brother lowered his panicky voice and asked me to leave so she doesn't see me here. That is incredibly messed up, especially since its his name on the house. I haven't seen my brother at his house since then, and that was over 2 years ago.
During COVID, GF started working from home, and it stayed that way. My brother still takes care of most things.
In the mean time, he's proposed to her. Yeah. I managed to save things when all our faces dropped at the Christmas dinner he announced their engagement at. My brother calls her by a nickname that was also the name of a beloved family dog that had passed away only one month ago. My dad and my reactions at that time were genuine confusion and sadness about him bringing up our passed pet. Everything was pretty quiet after that. When we got home, I texted my brother and told him that hearing our dog's name in conversation after losing her so recently shattered us, be we were, in fact, happy for his engagement.
I lied.
None of us want him to marry her. I dread the day that I get a wedding invitation or GF shows up pregnant. She would be a terrible mother. My brother is aware of the fact that my parents think she's a rude, inconsiderate brat that only thinks of herself, from that earlier conversation that I talked to my parents about. My mom snapped that they don't have to like her, all they were required to do was be civil, and we are, so shut up.
At larger family functions GF tends to gravitate around me. Like I said, we have similar interests and personalities. And I have never told her to get lost or had it in me to upfront tell her we don't like her. I am absolutely horrible at confrontation, but my patience is wearing thin.
Last year my parents set up brunch for Mother's Day. We were at the table when my brother called and said they were going to urgent care because GF had another one of her migraines that make her vomit. Which, she takes medicine and has injectable solutions. Some situation always comes up with her right before my brother would come to us.
My parents tried again with the Mother's Day brunch last week. On the day of, he said that he was too tired to come, can we try next week? Please insert the eyeroll of the century.
Because of our clear dislike, my brother doesn't often bring his GF around anymore on the offchance she lets him. It occurred to me that my parents planned the same brunch as last year, and I was dreading my question. "Is GF coming with us for brunch?" They don't know. All my brother did was confirm the time and place. The thought of having to deal with her in the morning and pretend that I don't see her for what she is, is already exhausting me. I can barely get my brother to even play online with me. I feel like this has been festering long enough that at some point, its all going to overflow at once. But I am absolutely disgusted by how she takes advantage of my brother's fear of being alone and how the world revolves around her.
I had a dream the other day, actually, it was a good dream. I was at their wedding, and the priest guy said the standard 'speak now or hold your peace' and I stood up and loudly shouted OBJECTION! Every single person in the room turned to look at me, one because I don't raise my voice like that, two my patience is vast, and three, to upset me to this level of shouldering my anxiety by making a spectacle of myself. I then explained every detail, especially how much she was charged for rent, that my brother admitted he wasn't happy, and I wanted better for him than to just be an ATM maid.
If I bring this up to my brother again, I may lose him forever. But if I don't, he may be miserable together. And on the third side-- Do I actually really want my brothers' friendship at this point? Like, I'm definitely fed up dealing with his GF like she is. Plus, I pointed out and reiterated to him before that he admitted he wasn't happy.
I am very, very quiet by default. Never got into much trouble. I was and still am a gentle soul at my core being. If things get to a point where I cross lines of polite manners and call someone out on their bs, people around know that someone did something almost unforgivable. I'm wondering if my brother would know that.
TLDR; Brother's fiancee is disliked for good reason. My brother has isolated. I miss him, but also never want to see him again. I want to remind him that this marriage isn't a good idea, but I don't want to antagonize him.

Hi! I’m an upcoming freshman for Faculty of Arts and Letters. Is it still recommended to use/bring a backpack to school? Or is it better to just use other bags (e.g tote bags).
Need help deciding, cause I don’t really know how much AB students bring and if it justifies using a backpack. I prefer using a backpack kasi since it puts less stress on my shoulders (my shoulders often hurt from using tote bags), and it’s easier to organize my things. However, baka masayang lang yung backpack if di naman pala madami ang dadalin. Additionally, do you have any school bag recommendations? I’m currently considering Northface’s Jester bag, Herschel, and Kanken bags.
Sorry if it seems like a stupid question, I’m just canvassing how much I’ll spend din when I move to UST 🥲
Thank you!

Just a quick break from the main story while I try my hand at some more of the usual SMG4 hijinks to round out this Volume.
Hope you enjoy!
Over at the Guest House, Zooble carries some trash bags outside and hurls them into the dumpster. One of them opens and reveals a silvery hand protruding from inside. Looks like they're still cleaning up after last night's "infestation." She comes back inside as Gangle finishes sweeping up some remaining Murmur bits while Bob is also lazing about in the lounge.
Bob: Nice job, team.
Gangle: But you didn't even do anything.
Bob: I'm giving off positive vibes. It's important to spread positivity and promote a positive environment.
Zooble: Yeah, nothing more inspiring than a snoring trashbag on the couch.
Bob: Damn straight! And you guys did a pretty good job! Five stars all around.
Mr. Puzzles: distant OH COME ON!!!!
Don't worry, that was just a cameo.
Gangle: Why not just hang out in the Castle?
Bob: Usually I would, but Boopkins is busy with family stuff, and the rest are either over at Omnia or off to the Sweetlands. I'm also pretty much barred from the Castle because Karen hates me.
Gangle: Why is that?
Bob: She says I'm a "bad influence" on her kids or something. I was just teaching them some cool life hacks.
One of them was how to siphon gas from a car, by the way.
Zooble: So you only like being lazy around others, is that it?
Bob: Can you blame a man who just wants some company?
Gangle: What about Melony and Kaizo?
Bob: They're already dealing with the hole.
The two carnies exchange glances of confusion and concern.
Zooble: What hole?
The three meet with Kaizo and Melony behind the Castle. Gangle and Zooble are understandably concerned about the circular opening hanging in the air. The inside shimmers with mysterious colors that have never been seen before.
Zooble: I'm sorry, what the hell is this?
Bob: A hole.
Zooble: Yeah, I see that. Where did it come from?
Kaizo: It appeared last night. A Void Angel had come through and attacked SMG3's ship.
Zooble: And WHAT has been done about this?
Melony: We tried boarding it up, but the planks just fell in. Then we called E. Gadd over and he took a look inside.
Zooble: Hm.........
Zooble sticks their head into the hole to take a look. A tumultuous sea of quantum foam lights the omnidirectional sky. Small visages of vessels and islands dot the horizon as massive wormlike creatures slither through the surrounding void. Zooble pulls their head back and takes a moment to process what they just saw.
Zooble: pop Yeah, this is gonna be a problem.
Bob: Hey guys I brought snacks.
They all just give him the stink eye as he stands there with a bag of chips.
Gangle: Shouldn't you be taking this a bit more seriously?
A shadowy ghoul suddenly pops out of the portal. Gangle shrieks as it lunges towards her, but Bob swiftly uses his special technique and blows it full of holes. The visage of the creature collapses to the ground before vanishing.
Gangle: W-w-what was that?
Kaizo: Liminus. Nasty little things.
Zooble: Where the hell did it come from!?
Bob eyes the hole.
Zooble: Right, right, the hole. How the hell are you all so calm about this!?
Melony: I'm more worried about what's going on in the city.
And for good reason. Over in Mushroom City, shit is most certainly fucked. Duviri Dax soldiers, Corrupted units, and Murmur creatures flood the streets, laying waste to all in their path. In the sky, a mechanical roar echoes through the sky as the massive Orowyrm Lodun slithers across the skyline. The military has already mobilized, gunning down any and all hostiles with extreme prejudice. Chris and Swag leading the offensive against the Void Invaders as they regroup with Hal Monitor and the Police.
Chris: Whats the situation, Mr. Monitor?
Hal: We just lost the town hall to Dominus Thrax's forces, and those neural sentries are picking us off like flies.
Swag: Is the coffee machine still working?
Hal: Yes, but we don't know how much our coffee stores will last. My question is how the hell we're gonna deal with that dragon?
Chris: Don't worry, we found someone who can deal with that.
Galloping through the streets on a majestic Kaithe, a lone Drifter guns down Dax and Murmur alike with their trusty Sirocco pistol. They jump from their mount and draw their dual nikanas, cutting down any and all aggressors with ease. The Drifter looks up as Lodun slithers between the skyscrapers and they lock eyes.
Lodun: YOU PARASITE, I WILL GRIND YOUR BONES UNTIL THE VERY SPARKS CRY FOR MERCY.
Unfazed, the Drifter mounts their Kaithe. It's wings unfold as it flies towards the Orowyrm, the Drifter readying their blades..... right before we come back to the showgrounds.
Zooble: Huh.
Kaizo: Yeah. It's getting bad.
Gangle: Now what? There has to be SOMETHING we can do.
Just then, we see something digging it's way to the surface right next to the group.
Zooble: Oh God dammit.
Zooble transforms their arms into blades, readying themselves for another Murmur attack, but it turns out to be......... someone familiar.
Bob: Oh, hi Steve!
Yep. Our blocky lord and savior Steve has returned.
Gangle: You know this guy?
Bob: Yeah! Steve is an old friend of Mario's. He's also a business partner of mine but that's not important.
Melony: Hey Steve, we're having some trouble figuring out what to do about this Void hole. You think you could help us out?
Steve makes his way over to the group and notices the portal. You can practically hear the gears in his head turning as he aggressively focuses on what to do next.
Steve: Yeah I got time.
And just like that, he starts building. He starts off with a ring of cobblestone around the portal, followed by another ring with some dispensers and sensors sprinkled in there. Then he starts digging out tge ground inside, placing multiple cauldrons and some trapdoors on the bottom. Finally, he gets to wiring some Redstone contraptions and placing some chests until his latest project is complete.
Steve: All done.
Another Dax Gladius exits through the hole.
Gladius: Surrender or di-
Steve flicks a switch and the Gladius is immediately feathered with arrows from all directions, dropping his items upon death into the receptacles below. Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a mob spawner farm. And just as quickly as he arrived, Steve departs by digging below and hiding his path.
Melony: Huh.......problem solved, I guess.
Kaizo: Well, if anybody needs me I'll be taking a nap. Wake me up if somebody starts dying, okay?
Bob: I'm gonna go hit up Baro and see if he's interested. We may even get some relics outta this.
And so they head off, leaving a very confused Zooble and Gangle.
Gangle: I can't help but feel like this violates some kind of convention.
The two head back to the Guest House and settle down in the lounge.
Zooble: All's well that ends well, I suppose.
Gangle: Yeah.........
Gangle seems to be in a bit of a daze.
Zooble: You alright?
Gangle: Yeah, I'm fine........ it's just.......
Zooble knows what's on her mind, but she still gives Gangle the chance to speak hers.
Gangle: I think Kaufmo would've liked it here.
Zooble: Yeah.......
They scoot over to Gangle and place their arm around her shoulder.
Zooble: I think so, too.

I write poems as a hobby so it may be trash, but I had this idea for a poem and link click actually fit the topic I wanted to write about pretty well. Keep in mind this is a rough draft, but I figured I'd get opinions on it while I'm in the middle of editing!

So, this is my first time making a post like this where I'm sharing an experience, so sorry if my storytelling isn't that well and I wasn't sure if this was the right place to share this or if a different subreddit was better. Also, I'm high. :p This is probably going to be a long post so strap in or go below to find a summary. And before anyone says this is fake, trust me, I wish it was. This was very real and I'm still traumatized by what happened. I'm hoping finally sharing what happened with other people who can give me on advice on how to deal with it (mentally) can help.
I'm not going to be using any real names or specific locations for privacy reasons (I'm also deathly afraid he might come across this) I'll call myself L (20M) and the guy who I think could've been a serial killestalker I'll call B (26M).
For some minor backstory, I'm a twenty year old trans male and I've never had much experience in dating. I live in the bible belt, so my dating life was non-existent or was filled with creeps. I wasn't looking for a partner at this time, but I ended up meeting B who was super sweet, had an amazing voice/laugh, and was overall very attractive. The main reason why I liked him and wanted to try dating him was because he told me he had dated trans partners before and knew a lot about it and was very respectful of my boundaries. Most guys never cared how I felt and always wanted to 'see my tits' and so on, and even if they liked me, when it came to sex and my body they were all very disrespectful. To top it all off, me and B had the same interests and 'end goal' for our lives and we got along extremely well. I have a lot of mental disorders since BEFORE I met B, some being CPTSD, Agoraphobia, and Severe Panic Disorder, so meeting new people and trusting others was something very hard for me. I'm usually very awkward and have trouble keeping up conversation with others, but not with him. He was amazing and we flowed together well. All green flags. Sometimes I feel as though the guy I first met is still out there, because when I met this dude in person, he was completely different.
So, we met around fall of last year on a dating app. I was mainly looking for hookups because at that point in time I had given up on dating. Like I said earlier, we started talking and that changed for me. He told me he was poly and me and him had a long talk about it and we decided we would both keep it open and would be fine to see other people while we talked, and if things started to get more serious and it worked, then we'd be monogamous. (This is important for later) So, there were no red flags in the beginning, until a few started to pop up. He told me he was into guns, which at first was fine with me. He didn't hunt, he just liked to shoot and go to shooting ranges for fun. Hell, to me that sounded like every man's dream to shoot and blow stuff up so I was excited when he suggested to go to a shooting range together. Also, I'm in the south of the US as well, so I was used to that. Then he started talking about serial killers and darker stuff and how he was into that. Which again, was fine with me. I've been through a lot in my life and have a lot of trauma and dark humor, and dark things in general, doesn't bother me, and I love horror. We talked about how we should watch the new Jeffrey Dahmer show that has Evan Peters. I love AHS so I was down for it. It started getting a lot weirder though, and I should've known then that something was wrong, I think I was blinded by the chance to actually have a caring partner that was already educated on trans topics, so I didn't think. He told me that his former partner and him had gotten in a fight, the one before me. He told me what happened between for the fight, I'm not going to include this part as it's very specific, but by the end he had told me his partner had left in the middle of the night and got his family to pick him up (His partners family live in another state, so his ex partner ended up moving ACROSS STATES to get away from him.) He said when he woke up he was gone and wasn't answering his calls. The way he told the story in the beginning though made it seem like his ex was a really stuck-up and petty person who HE got away from. Now I know why his ex actually left and that his EX was the one who got away. Ok, so with that all out of the way, we had been talking for around three months when we decided to finally meet. We had taken some time figuring out where to meet since we both wanted to meet in public, which I thought was a really green flag. When I told him I'd just drive up to his place, he said no because he didn't want to give out his address before we met. Which again, I thought was SUPER GREEN, but apparently not. I didn't want him to drive here for the same reasons, but also because I live with my grandparents so I figured that'd be pretty awkward. We ended up deciding to meet at a park near his house to see that we weren't catfishing each other and basically to catch the vibes of the other. He lived in a different state but the drive was only two hours away, not too bad. I drove up there (I was 19 at this point in time btw...) and when I finally arrived I gave him a call and he said he'd be there. So, this 'park' ended up not being a park, but a CEMETARY. For some reason though, there was a playset on the other side of the road that was connected to it which is where I parked. After we were supposed to meet, we were going to go back to his place then I was going to drop off my car and we were going to take his and go out and eat. So, a few minutes go by and I see a car start to pull up toward me. I was still in my car as there was no where else to sit. I went to open my door and hop out when he pulled in beside me but all he did was roll down his window and said "you can follow me now." BRUH, WHAT, OK? That was it. He rolled it back up and started to drive away. Now, I know what most of you are thinking, BITCH RUN. Well, I was stupid and hate confrontation or anything like that so I went along with it. I followed him and then realized that the park wasn't 'near' his house, IT WAS RIGHT BEHIND IT. I drove not even another minute probably and we were already there. Making me think he wanted to watch me approach from his house. So, I parked and we both got out. He looked exactly as he did in the pictures and was more attractive in person, although his personality and the way things were going made it not matter. We went to head inside and he stopped me before going in and said something like, "Hey, I have a headache so we're just going to stay here. Is that ok?" I have no idea why, but practically the ENTIRE TIME I was with him that day, he had a constant expression on his face that made him look like he was constipated/confused. Think of Edward in Twilight when he is trying not to kill Bella or be weird. It was THAT face. Furrowed brows, mouth open slightly, with that weird look on his face. So, at first I felt a bit let down, that was until I realized everything else that had happened up before this point. Then it turned into anxiety. I told him that was fine and when he opened the door, all the lights were off. Like, ALL OF THEM. It was pitch black and he had black out curtains on his windows. He led me to his bedroom which creeped me out and we proceeded to sit on his bed. He told me he was sorry about not wanting to go out and that we could just watch tv and cuddle. Now, if this was the guy thought I had been talking to, then I'd would've been fine with it. But this dude seemed like a completely different person from who I had met. Keep in mind I had been talking with him for three months and we connected really fast and had hours long convos on the phone a day. I was honestly just creeped out but wasn't scared because I've been in similar situations like this before. I figured I'd just make up an excuse later so I could leave. That's when he told me to lay back and get comfortable and we'd watch, low and behold, JEFFREY DAHMER. So, that's what he put on while we made, really weird, small talk. So, he told he had a shit ton of guns and reached beside his nightstand and whipped out a pistol. He told me he had built it himself and let me hold it. But just the fact that this guy can whip out a gun like that, while acting like a creep, AND that show playing? Nah man, god I'm such an idiot. Anyway lmao, he started stroking my thigh and 'petting' me while we watched the show. I was SOOO uncomfortable and I noticed I had a texts from two of my friends and my mom who were all asking if I made it up here ok. I texted back and let them know I was fine, and this is when I started panicking a lot more on the inside. Anytime I'd get a text, or even open my phone at all, he'd lay his head on my shoulder to see what I was doing. He even ended up reading one of my texts out loud from earlier in the day. I felt that I couldn't just leave like any weird date, 1) because he had guns EVERYWHERE. 2) Because he was watching every move I made 3) Because that's when I realized he was potentially dangerous and unhinged on a physical level. A bit later after sitting in silence, 'watching the show,' he started talking about how he knew everything about Jeffrey Dahmer. What kind of poison or drug he'd use on his victims, exactly how he drilled the holes in his victim's heads, and basically everything about Dahmer's life. He even knew what steps Dahmer would do and in what order before killing his victims. Now, I knew a lot about serial killers as well because I like true crime and shit like that. I ended up agreeing with him and playing along. Looking back, I don't know how, but I found a way to still fake laugh at this man's jokes and act like I was the same as him. I even went as far to say that I felt bad for Dahmer and could be his friend. B's eyes seem to light up when I said that and then he went on a rant about how Dahmer was misunderstood and only needed somebody. It made me sick to my stomach but I continued going along with it. Later he went on to say multiple things that disgusted me and made me afraid. Like how he was into knife play, little brother play, where he makes his partners act like a younger brother. He also told me he loved taking sexual pictures of his partners while they held his guns in different poses and asked me if I would. I 'gladly' agreed and said we could do it later. NAH, FUCK THAT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Btw, this whole time he was still stroking me and putting his hands on me. He kept trying to push alcohol on me, and joked it was laced. I told him I wasn't a big drinker and didn't want anyway at the moment. Every time I refused he kept getting more irritated. He then made a weird comment, saying, "Isn't getting fucked up what you're here for?" UMMMM, NO????? He had a jar of moonshine and finally I told him I'd take a sip. I held it up to my lips and closed them before slightly letting the liquid hit them, then I pretended to take a small gulp and told him it tasted good. That's when he got a huge smile on his face and all the annoyance from before went away. Looking back, I think it was actually laced, and you'll see why next. Yay... So a bit after this, I started to get a slight headache and that's when I realized I left my bag in my car. I got a bit excited because I thought I could take this as a chance to leave. I asked him if I could go grab my bag from my car for my headache medicine and he said of course. Now listen, I said earlier I have dark humor and it's been a coping mechanism for me. So when I left to go to my car I made a joke to him and said, "Don't worry, Jeff. I'll be right back, I'm not leaving." DUDE. When I told my friend what I had said later she told me I memed a serial killer. BRUH, WHY AM I LIKE THIS? I COULD'VE DIED OR WORSE AND I CALLED HIM JEFF? Lord help me... Anyway, so my headache only got worse after I 'took a sip' of the moonshine and I started feeling dizzy. Now, even though I didn't actually drink it, a few drops still came in contact with my lips made it into my mouth. I went to my car and grabbed my bookbag from my floorboard. I sat in the driver's seat and looked on my phone. I was about to call my best friend, basically my sister, and then leave. My soul left my body though, because when I looked over, this dude was standing on his porch, WATCHING ME. Seeing if I was trying to leave. Knowing he had guns and we were in a small town where hearing gun shots were normal, I grabbed my bag and hopped right out of the car. When he knew I was walking back he walked to his car and opened his trunk. He pulled out a gun case that was like THREE FEET LONG. This gun was huge and he walked it into the house behind me. He told me it was some kind of sniper rifle and he said each single bullet costed 8$ or something like that. I later learned that owning something like that in the state he lived in was illegal. So, he kept making weird comments and touching/petting me while he told me all the ways he'd kill me 'if he was a serial killer.' I had been at his for almost 4 hours at this point and he FINALLY left me alone in the living room for a few moments, going back in his bedroom for something. I quickly texted my mom and told her to call me and give me an excuse. I didn't tell her what was going on as I knew she would've panicked more than me and probably would've made it worse. I just told her I didn't like him much and needed a reason to leave. I told her I was deleting the text I just sent and told her not to text me back as I knew B would read it. I told her to call me after a few minutes of seeing my text. So, luckily a few minutes later I got a call and she told me she was in the hospital and needed me to come home. Now, my mom has health problems and B knew of this before I came so it was actually the perfect excuse. I pretended like I was more annoyed than concerned since I'd told him before she was always in and out of the hospital with her health because she doesn't take care of herself. I apologized for having to leave so soon, (Before all this, if things went good I was supposed to stay the night.) And he didn't say a single word before looking at me coldly and going into his room. I waited for like ten minutes, unsure if I should just leave. I was deathly afraid of him now and didn't know if he was about to pull out a gun. I kept hearing bangs and loud noises coming from his room. When he finally came out though, he didn't have anything and still looked cold. I said my final goodbye and we hugged for a second before I left. As soon as I hopped in my car I put that bitch in drive and WENT. Now that I was out and everything started to hit me more, the adrenaline and fight or flight went away. Only leaving me with anxiety and I was completely shaken. I called my two of my best friends who are together and told them what happened. I asked if I could come to their place because I live with my grandparents (who are conservative Baptists if that says anything) and I DID NOT want to tell them about what happened. They didn't even know I went up there or that I was talking to someone. They said I could and my friend who I'll call M (21f) stayed on the phone with me basically my whole drive back home. The more I told her the more WTF she became. And honestly, there are a lot of other creepy/weird things he did that I left out because there are so many it's hard to remember every detail at once. Once I got to her place I noticed I had several missed calls and texts from him. I blocked him on everything and then M asked me something that made my stomach drop. She asked if my Snap location was on. It was. I drove the whole way back with my location on, straight to my friend's place. I turned it off immediately and started panicking a little. M and my other friend I'll call J tried to reassure me but then I got a phone call from an unknown number. M answered it for me and said hello. It was quiet because it was not on speaker but I could the voice. It was him and I felt a chill go down my spine. He asked if I was around and M told him he had the wrong number. He called back SOOO many times, each time with a different number. Even months after I kept getting calls from unknown numbers. After a few months, I wasn't sure if it was him or a scam caller and over the course of a few weeks I answered a few of them. I never said anything, just answered and never let the call time go over 10 seconds. Each time I could hear rustling noises and no voices. One time all I heard was heavy breathing. I decided to not answer anymore of them and luckily they've since stopped the last month or two. I was so scared soon after it happened though. Even though I never told him my address, he still knew where I worked and I was so afraid he'd show up with a gun and shoot up the place. Because it wasn't some random fast food chain or retail job. I work at a pretty good place to be so young and there is only ONE of these places. I'm not going to give away any details but he if wanted to he could GPS straight to where I work, anyone could because it's well known and public. I was nervous he'd scope out the place and wait until he saw me and which side of the building I enter, etc. During this time I kept a knife on me at all costs and had a necklace type sheath thing and both the knife and sheath were flat, so I'd wear it around my neck under my shirt and apron at work (even though I could've been fired if found with it.) A few days after it all happened, I woke in the middle of the night and even now I SWEAR to this day I smelt him. I know I didn't and my brain was probably making it up, but it was HIM. Him, and his whole house, had a distinct smell. Like booze and cigarettes mixed with his own scent. I was shaking and had cold sweats. I had never sat up so fast out of sleep before, especially because I hadn't been dreaming. It was like something had woken me up. His smell was everywhere and I looked to my dog who seemed undisturbed and that's when I knew no one was here. My dog is very protective and barks at anyone he doesn't know so I felt safe but still was uneasy and I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. I ended up telling one of my bosses what had happened and asked her if we could get the gate closed at night since I work second. About two weeks after everything, I was sitting on my back porch smoking when I saw a car that looked just like his pass by. I tried to look at the driver and when I did, my stomach turned. It looked just like him. Even now, I'm not sure if it was him or not but considering nothing has happened, I assume it wasn't. Although I told my friends that I was nervous. Since I know a lot about serial killers and true crime, my initial thought was if I was him, I wouldn't come after me right away. I'd wait and let them get comfortable, thinking they are safe and then get them. Which is why I guess I've been paranoid about it again lately. It's been about 6-8 months since then. I'm still traumatized from it and still look over my shoulder when I'm walking at night, thinking I'm going to see him again on day. Even though I don't get nearly as many calls now, I still do from time to time. Although no one ever speaks when I answer nowadays, It's like I have a gut feeling it's him. Though I don't know if I'm just paranoid or not. Also, this dumbass didn't want me to get his address but I found it anyway. So if something ever happens to me or he tries to do something I can give the police his address. Because since we met at a 'park' that was RIGHT BEHIND HIS HOUSE, me and my friend went on google maps and put in the address to the 'park.' Then I moved the maps down the roads we drove on until I found his house. We went in 3rd person and zoomed in on the numbers on his house and his street name. So, B, if you find this. Fuck around and find out. Idk if you are a serial killer or not, and maybe your just really weird. But dude, if that's the case you need to WORK ON THAT. Anyway, that's my story. Sorry if some things don't make sense or if the words are too jumbled. I'm still super high and kind of just ranted a bit. So, if anyone has any advice or something similar happen to them, I'd love to hear from you! I'll try to answer any questions, but nothing too personal. If you've read this far, your a real G, thank you. I know this is a super long post, so it means a lot. I hope the rest of you are having a good night / day wherever you are!
TLDR; Met a guy on a dating app who seemed like a really great and normal guy who turned out to be very weird and controlling and LOVES Jeffrey Dahmer. Watched my every move to make sure I didn't leave until I finally got out and SPED AWAY. Kept getting calls for months after.

So I, 15 non binary (14 at the time of this incident), work at a well known retail chain where we sell everything from makeup to ice cream to laxatives and everything in between. I had only been working there for a few months at that point and, at the time, I was also working with one of my friends, female 16 (15 at the time of this incident), who we will call M for the sake of the story. Now M started a few weeks after I did so she has even less time than I did. On that day, I was walking up to the front countetill 1 (for reference, I work as a cosmetition (makeup artist) on the other side of the store while she was a cashier) to return a few front store items left in our department. As I was walking up, I noticed a man who looked to be in his late thirty’s to early forties in the middle cubicle of our 3 self checkout machines. He seemed to be very secretive as he was hiding what he was buying with him body by standing quite close to the tiny counter. He was also constantly looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching him. We locked eyes and I smiled/greeted him. He gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement before stepping closer to the machine and working faster. M saw me and walked over to where I was standing. I explained to her the situation under the assumption that he was stealing and expressed that maybe we should keep an eye on him. We walked back to the counter in order to watch what he was doing. He, clearly frustrated at this point, was having some trouble with the self checkout machine. I called out to ask if he needed any help and he was quick to reject. I offered to clear out the transaction so I could restart and use the same machine but he, again, quickly declined and moved onto the machine to his right side. M and I extanged glances before moving on and leaving him alone. At that point, I needed to get back to my section so I wouldn’t get in trouble for hanging out while on the clock so I got out from behind the counter and started walking back to cosmetics. I tried to look and see what he was buying but all I say were a few black boxes in their side. A while later I had to go back to the front till (for reasons I can’t remember because this was a year ago) and M was in hysterics. I asked her what happened and she recited that after the man had finished using the second self checkout, he needed to get a bag from the counter. He dumped his products on the counter and reveal that he was buying 2 extra large “buz toys”, “protection” and a bottle of lubricant. For reference, we get people coming through and buying stuff like this all the time. I’ve checked out 50+ year old women for “buz toys” while having a lovely conversation about our favourite teas. This is not new to us and quite frankly, you become desensitized to it after a while. He, however, was quite embarrassed as she told me that while she was ringing him up, we went on an embarrassed tangent about how him and his wife just wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. I’m all his haste and over sharing, he was still trying to cough up the chance for the 35¢ bag (CAD) while people were laughing at him. He eventually got his bag and left with his little not-so-secret items. It had been a few minutes since he left (maybe 10?? Idk) and I noticed that people were avoiding the middle self checkout and laughing. M and I looked at each other before going to look into the source of the humour. What makes this better is that he doesn’t even know that this happened but he left him scanned but not paid for items on the screen if the middle self checkout. People were laughing because the screen read as follows:
Xl dual rabbit “buz toy” brand name Personal messager (purple) brand name “protection” flavoured lubricant ext bry blst (meaning extreme berry blast)
Do sir, if you’re reading this, just know that more people than you knew were laughing at your misfortune and for the people that say “Others won’t even remember your most embarrassing moments after a while!” Just know that I think about this in a weekly basis and it never fails to make me laugh. I don’t know if I’d be able to recognize him if he came in again but I hope to God that I will if he ever shows up again.
This requires me to add an attachment so here’s my poll;
Would you be embarrassed if this happened to you?
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So for where this all begins was back when I was 14 I needed 20 dollars to get this laptop that I wanted. I was about to go on this trip and wanted that damn laptop so I went into my dad’s room and took it.
Now my father is a rich man but he doesn’t hand out money without good reason. Anyways until I turned 16 I didn’t steal again, I just figured that 20 dollars was a one time thing done on impulse. Then I got my license on my 16th birthday and things began to change.
I got a job and money was ok but it only paid my phone bill and car payment and insurance and gas. I got this old hand me down car, couldn’t complain it got from point A to B but it was still 3k and everything else on top I was barely getting by.
Then mom and dad decided that me and my siblings that could work and still lived with them needed to value the worth of money, so now I had 400 in rent.
I don’t know man now I was losing money and dipping into my savings what little I had, and with school it wasn’t reasonable to get more hours or a second job, which my dad suggested when I told him I was low on money.
Then it happened I had a little bit of money left and my dad was sleeping on the couch my mom out with her friends and my siblings in their rooms.
I walked into my parents room and found my dad’s wallet and he always kept a lot of cash on him, like I said really really rich over 10 million net worth. I took hundred dollars and he never noticed.
For the rest of high school I’d take a little bit of money throughout the month always enough to pay rent and make sure my bills were paid, by the end though I was taking more so I could have some fun too, nice dates, fun times with friends. I just wanted to have a fun time as a teen not all this adulting.
My dad grew suspicious at times but could never pin anything on me and I stopped after graduation, the rest of that summer I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything so it didn’t look suspicious when it suddenly stopped when I left.
Yeah I left my nice rich family and joined the army still in don’t know why. Anyways things were good for that first year I didn’t steal didn’t get in trouble made some friends, outside of the regular bs in the military life was good.
Then I went to the store and discovered accidentally the self checkout didn’t have weight sensors in this area, I missed a scan and nothing went off, I didn’t even notice till I looked at my receipt and noticed the item wasn’t on their.
This was my spiral into the worst of me, for months I’d take a little bit of food or clothes on each trip to various stores, but the worst came when one of my friends saw me doing it, I thought he would be angry or rat me out to our higher ups at the command. No turns out he did it too and thought we could get more stuff if we worked together.
It got bad me and him along with some more guys that we brought into it just started getting out of hand with how much we were taking, clothes household goods food appliances electronics. Anything that wasn’t bulky or didn’t have an alarm on it we would take, though I mainly just got food clothes and household goods.
That went on till about six months ago, together as a group we probably stole over 20k I don’t know the exact number but it was over two years plus of doing it. But we would also do it solo at times and that was how I got caught.
Store I would go to for food got me as I was walking out had me on camera’s for a month and 200 dollars worth of stuff, I had taken a lot more over the year plus but they had me.
This lady she saved me she was this older lady probably in her sixties and real nice asked me why, I told her that my bills were too much and it was hard to pay for food and I was just struggling, I lied I know bad but I saw the alternative of being arrested and punished by the army as worse.
This sweet lady put her hand on my shoulder said she’s gonna give me a break, she took the bag of stuff said I couldn’t have it back but there were places to help me, then she walked me out and said I was banned permanently and if showed back up she would call the cops.
I quit it all after that never told anyone I got caught and went straight and I’ve since left that command and am on leave while transferring.
It’s hard I get such urges to steal I have a problem and I’m not gonna ask for pity or anything I was wrong for what I did. Suppose I’m posting this just to be able to freely say it. But I’m never gonna steal again I endangered my future my friends futures, I took so much. I can’t confess to anyone though it would damage my life too much maybe in the future I can come clean to everyone but not anytime soon.