"Princess, please remain close to me now, these woods are dangerous. Infested with goblins."
Anastasia, second captain of the royal guard, was an impressive woman any day of the week, large, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. But now, in full plate armor, her helmet hiding half her face, which warm, friendly expression normally helped to ease her martial experience, and im combination with her wide hips and chest had led to her soldiers giving her the respectfull nickname "Momma bear", she looked outright terrifing.
"But surely, you three are more than a match for any goblin we might encounter?", the princesses best friend, the Lady Kyra asked with an amused puff and waved at the three guards accompaning the two highborn girls.
She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, tight on her curvy upper body, but flowy past her hips. She sat elegantly and with thr confidence of any young highborn woman who spent more time in the sidesaddle ontop her horse, than in her studies. Her long flowy dark hair in perfect curls as always, her slighty tanned skin just above what would be considered appropriate for a nobelwoman who didn't have to work the fields.
"Aye, a single goblin is not a threat, Mylady, but they tend not to come alone", the second guard Athena chimed in.
Younger and less massive than Anastasia, she was still a force to be reckoned with, with an athletic body, tight and lean, though not without a decent amount of muscle. Her bronzed skin almost matched the color of the bronze-armour her knightly order was famous for still using, even after Steel having become wildly known and wildly used, her short black hair matching the Lady Kyra.
She gestured towards the woods. "There are probably a dozen of goblins in those woods, just waiting to swarm unsuspecting, ill prepared victims. They attsck always in huge groups. Since a single goblin would barely reach to my chest and weigh less than half of me, a single one would be easily overpowered. Also, since they are sneaky by nature, the don't attack in the open, prefering to ambush they victims."
"Are... are you sure we are save to enter this forrest at all? Shouldn't we circle around it?" The princess asked, guiding her horse - maybe instinctively - closer to Anastasias. The princess` looks stood in stark contrast to her best friend. Where Kyras was curvy, the princess was petite, her hair - though as long as Kyra - was red and straight with only a very light natural curl. Also, while she wore a wide green dress matching her eye color, the dress was so flowy, she could ride a normal saddle - something her mother - the Queen - had insisted on she learned, due to the possibility of needing "to ride for real" like her mother had called it. But with her pale porcelain skin, the high cheekbones, the full red lips and those big, round eyes she was without a doubt one of the greatest beauties in the realm.
"We will be safe, my princess" the big woman calmed her down, reaching for her and putting her heavy plate-gauntlet on the young womans shoulder. "We are on our guard and heavily armed. I doubt they will pick a fight 12 on three. It would be suicide for them.“ As if to stress her words, she reached for her sword and loosened it it its scabbered, with Athena following her example.

Medea, the third member of the small group of guard, who had fallen back slightly previously to check up on a trail, caught up to the other four women. Her gorgeous face was radiating, her joy lighting up an already great day. Clearly, the woman who had been a huntress not long ago, reveled in being out in nature, and not locked in a castle of stone. In contrast to the other guards, she didn´t wear plate armour, but instead leather armour with metal scales fixed onto it. Also, she was significantly smaller than the other two women. Shooting her heavy bow had given her muscular shoulders and back, as well as toned arms, but also her legs and butt were very well trained, looking even bigger, considering the woman was barely 5 feet. Her short brown hair was only be kept together by a single leather-headband. On her saddle hang a bow and on her back a big knife.
„I have never been to these woods myself“, she explained. „But I have heared gruesome tales of more than one unfortunate woman who went into them unprepared and was ravaged and massacred by goblins. And not necessarily in that order“, she remarked, as she let her eyes wander over the trees right in front of the small group.
„Enough!“ Anastasia cut her of, as she saw the princesses face getting even paler.
Medea raised a hand in aknowledgement. While she was a very capable warrior, she was still new to the demands of appropriate behaviour around noblewomen.

The shadow of the big leaf trees fell over the five women, as they followed the path into the wood. The path itself was well maintaned, with the plentiful undergrowth of the forrest having been cut away. It was a nice, peacefull atmosphere. The big trees to both sides of the road gently swayed in a gentle breeze, their branches forming a dome-like ceiling over the path, birds chirping, and several small animals to the side of the road to be seen.

Suddenly, Kyras horse, a beautiful white stallion, started to prance, and whicker. „Keep him calm, Mylady!“ Anastasia ordered and looked around on high alert. Kyra pulled on her horses rains and struggled to stay on top of him, as he clearly tried to break out, making a jump sidewards and buckling, almost throwing her of. „I can´t! Damn, he is going crazy!“, she squealed, fear creaping in her voice just as much as pure surprise, since her well trained Hose normally never acted that way. Than, the stallion reared, and jumped, loudhly neighing forward and ran along the path, before he took a small gap between trees and dissapeared into the undergrowth, his rider screaming curses, though clearly not less scared than angry.
„Gods be damned. Medea! After her!“, Anastasia commanded and drew her sword. She reached for the princesses horse and grabbed the rains. „Stay close, your highness!“ The princess, scared, clang to her horse and didn´t even dare thinking about going anywhere.

Medea spured her horse on and galloped after the girl, whose screams they could still hear in the distance. „I am coming Mylady!“ The small woman yelled out, as the horse jumped of the road into the woods, where Kyra had dissapeared.

Athena drew her sword as well and gestured towards a small forrest clearing a bit further ahead and to the left – the opposite side to where Kyra and Medea had dissapeared to.
„We should get of the path, we are sitting ducks here!“ she shouted.

Anastasia nodded in agreement and the three galloped onto the forrest clearing.

So we're 2 years na sana sa July. We have our fair share of milestones and problems and l've always thought it would still work kasi we both showed growth every time may naoovercome kaming issues. Anyway one of the key parts of our relationship is the age gap and may mga gusto siyang maexperience na naexperience ko na before nung college pa ko but the thing is I know how the hook up culture can fuck up your sense of self and l've seen how alter people sometimes devolve into jerk off material nalang regardless kung matalino ka ba and all. Even though we're monogamous by nature naman it shows na kaya namin (or at least ako) na paghiwalayin ang idea ng sex at romance. I offered na we can explore sexually together kasi takot akong mamanyak siya before, then I offered an open relationship kahit alam kong mostly siya lang naman may kailangan non since I'm done with all that na, just so he wouldn't feel na he's missing out anything in his early 20s. But in the end we decided to call it quits nalang and yun nag boom alter account niya and what l'm worried about is gamit na gamit niya don identity ng school niya tapos naka display pa sa grindr profile yung X account niya even though I already told him when I had the right pa na ingatan niya identity niya kasi all that studying can go to waste pag na doxx siya and all, eh ang sipag non mag-aral. I guess at some point rin ang sama ng loob ko kasi he made cut ties with so many people just because hindi siya comfy sa hook up culture before and ngayon parang mag-isa nalang ako sa mundo kasi sa kanya talaga umikot lahat pati mga future plans ko tapos nawala nalang in a snap. Meanwhile siya ang daming shallow validation na nakukuha since enjoy na enjoy yung mga tao sa mga posts niya sa alter. Selos of some sort but I cant tell him that di naman na kami. I know naman na makaka move on rin ako at some point but it gets tight in the chest talaga knowing na merong dadating na hindi siya aalagaan at mababa ang tingin sa kanya. All I wanted was to protect his potential and be there for him because adulting will for sure hit him hard.

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

Prompt: The Variants of Vampires. Think of an alternative vampire that survives on something other than blood. Write a story or scene based on this character.
As the sun faded over the horizon, Vlad’s eyes opened slowly. A sigh escaped his cold lips, and he stretched his long legs onto the red velvet lining of his coffin. Another day has come. He thought sadly, as he had everyday for last 206 years.
He checked his timepiece in the left chest pocket of his silk pajamas, 8:36 p.m. Thankful for the spring sun that set earlier than it would in the coming months, he pushed on the heavy hardwood lid of his resting place. With a creak the wood swung open, landing heavily to the side. While a modern coffin would no doubt be lighter, and easier to open every evening, this one was sentimental to him. As he had been buried in this exact coffin 206 years ago, at 35 years old.
With a heavy sigh, Vlad rose and climbed onto the step that sat beside his coffin. His stomach rumbled, and he knew he had no choice but to venture to the kitchen of his estate home. With his head hung low, he began to undress.
You see, Vlad was not like other vampires. His long life was full of loneliness, even for one who was undead. When he had first been turned by his Maker he was optimistic, excited even, for the wonders of the world he would be able to see. With no time limit, no fear of death, and an infinite supply of food walking the earth- the possibilities stretched before him like the vastness of the night sky.
However, Vlad was unable to satiate the hunger that filled him, that turned him into a ravenous beast, night after night. The mere thought of blood churned his stomach, much to his Maker’s chagrin.
Isabel was her name. Even the thought of her filled him with longing. Her had loved her once, and she him, until they learned the truth: Vlad could not be sustained by blood, but one of the things that all Vampires feared: Garlic. Of all things. The thought still flooded him with embarrassment, even after more than two centuries of living as a Vampire.
He climbed the steps from his dirt cellar, whose entrance lay hidden behind a false door that led into the Master bedroom of his estate. He lifted the heavy wooden lever that would propel the door open to his closet. The clever vault disguised by many shelves of his expensive leather shoes. He kept an armoire near his coffin for convenience, as sometimes he awoke before the sun had set. A terrible habit he picked up 50 years prior.
He wound his way from the closet into the room, down the long hallway, and the curved staircase to the first floor. His heavy footsteps echoed eerily in his quiet manse, as his staff had already left at the end of their workday, thinking that he was abroad on business. A ruse which was quickly growing thin. Soon I shall have to replace my staff again, how much easier this dreary life would be if I could simply drink from them. He mused.
Vlad had no excitement for the night, as even the mere smell of his skin repulsed those of his kind. He was unable to rejoin his coven, the one that he had briefly reveled in. Expensive goblets of crisp red blood he could not drink, dances and guests from around the globe each night, the women with their necks adorned with jewels, some thought long lost to the mortals of the world, but safely stashed in the secret rooms of the elites of the Vampire world. The men in their black tuxedos, fashionable hairstyles and long white teeth often exposed in laughter. His tenure in his coven had been short, merely days, but it had been a lifestyle he mourned. He and Isabel had tried to make things work… But this train of thought was far too painful, and his stomach panged once again, so he quickened his steps and focused once again on his coming meal.
He made his way into the back kitchen, not the formal kitchen he would have likely entertained Isabel in (if he was a “normal” Vampire), but into the staff kitchen where the fridges were, and food was prepared and stored. Rows and rows of dried garlic bundles hung from the exposed wooden beams, all harvested from the garden on the grounds.
Vlad once again rued his life, as he wished the preparation of his meal didn’t fall to him each night. But he reached up and took down a bundle, released a corm from its tight knot, and sat at the stool at the quartz countertop, grabbing for one of his Japanese Damascus knives that made his task of slicing his garlic head easy.
Briefly inspired, Vlad decided a garlic comfit would be nice, and he got to work.

I am pretty sure this is what is going on with me! Without me realizing it originally….
Short story; about 2 weeks ago I noticed that I had some frontal neck tightness, like my veins I could feel more blood flow happening in them? Or my pulse? Idk, but it didn’t feel right. Also had some irritability and hot flashes. Then I noticed my chest was tightening! I had already experienced some pins and needles feelings in my hands and arms. I had just started an upper dose of my thyroid medicine which can also cause quite a bit and thought it was just that. So because of the cardiovascular issues I was feeling, I decided to completely stop caffeine just in case bc I didn’t want to exasperate my symptoms. Important to note, I had already decided to bring down my caffeine content because I know it was too high, but I did not really connect any of this to lowering or tapering my caffeine at all until the last couple of days! I truly thought it was just my medication. However, seeing as I was very dependent upon caffeine for the last 20 some years at anywhere between 500 to 700 mg of caffeine a day throughout the day, caffeine withdrawal makes total sense! Could my thyroid medicine have contributed? Absolutely, probably so but at this point I think that I’m really in the thick of it when it comes to caffeine withdrawal because I have completely stopped my medication. Symptoms included: I have been experiencing some chest tightening/discomfort. It was never painful but it was just very tight and heavy feeling. I have had heart palpitations that I could feel in my chest and in my neck, along with neck restriction, almost strangulation feeling! Bad headaches and I would say the oddest one were cold tremors. There was one night where I was wearing a full clothing plus a onesie and a blanket and my whole body was tremoring. I ended up going to the hospital ER twice thinking that it was something to do with my heart and each time they ran an EKG which came back totally normal. The first time they also checked my blood for troponin which signifies whether or not you may have had a heart attack and it was fine. They did a CT scan on my neck since I complained of tightening and restriction and it completely came back fine and a chest x-ray to check my heart and lungs which was also fine. The second time I went to the hospital they did, like I said another EKG, which was fine and another x-ray which was also fine and basically asked if I was stressed or have anxiety (which I never have!)
So, all this to say, it’s gotta be the caffeine withdrawal! I’ve always been someone who has tried to be physically fit and today I felt probably the best I have felt in two weeks so I went on the smallest jog ever and it felt fantastic during but after resting for about 10 to 15 minutes that sudden rushed pulsing in my neck came back and after doing some research it looks like caffeine normally will restrict the blood flow to your head and so it seems like maybe I’m getting more blood flow now that I’m not having caffeine to restrict blood flow, which is causing the pulsating to where I can feel it as well as the headaches. It’s insane!
Please tell me I’m not alone?! How long does this last!

Today, I lost our Alfie after 11 years with us.
Alfie was a rescue that we met 11 years ago, to this day. A small, chihuahua mix – he was often timid with others and people, but for some reason, grew very interested in us at the dog park day. We were there to actually review adopting another dog, but that dog took no interest. Instead, Alfie (then named Rugger) followed us around the dog park as my partner (now husband) and I walked around the dog park. We would look back, and there he was – checking us out and shyly walking the other direction each time we caught him. Our heart became set on him, and as he sat in the back while other more aggressive dogs with their love came forward, we were set on him and pushed our way through the crowd to get back to him.
Right away, we could tell that he was possibly abused as a stray from San Bernardino. He was cautious and hated us picking him up – his body would fall flat to the floor. Regardless, he still worked through his timidness and crawled into bed and went under the sheets on our first night and slept with this. He always felt shy and timid with strangers, never scared just not too sure, but he blossomed and showcased his love, fun and energy with us. We always got to see him for all he is and could be. I could tell that he trusted us – and I know that sounds cliché since I’m sure every pet parent feels this way, but it seems like he knew we would always have his back. He never left our side and would come with us to family gatherings just as if a child would. He was our baby and he knew it.
Last year, kidney disease popped up on our radar at stage 2 – it was a shock, but after 10 years and an unknown true age (rescue estimated 3, vet estimated 4-5), we knew that we were getting into this old age problems. Suddenly, his teeth got bad – and we were hesitant to do anesthesia. But they got worse and worse as in the case of most Chihuahua’s, and we did some blood work to see if he was stable before scheduling an appointment. Then we were told it was stage 3.
He was so uncomfortable with his mouth, we knew we had to do something – but then we started considering his medications, his back injections, his anemia, his lethargy, his qualify of life… We made a decision, then it was back and forth on some good days, til it wasn’t. We made the decision to put him down yesterday, and this AM the vet came over and put him down in the living room with him in my arms.
I am absolutely heartbroken and I cannot stop crying. I’m physically feeling pain in all parts of my body. My head hurts, my nose hurts, my eyes hurt, my throat hurts, my chest hurts… everything is just hurting from nonstop convulsing crying. The vet said he was passing already from the sounds of it and her visual examination, and not even a half dose of his sedative caused him to start going and an irregular heart beat (he pulled away yelping from the injection). But I can’t shake that I chose this and chose his death. I can’t get rid of this guilt and this horrible feeling. And then I remember everything, then I focus on missing him, then its guilt, and now its me being pissed that I didn’t get more time with him and that this feels so unfair and how dare God take him from me with conditions that led us to this point.
I don’t know what to do. I am just repeating everything in my head nonstop. I keep expecting him laying right next to me and to feel his warmth, or him asking for help onto the bed or couch. I can’t stand to look at all the things that gave him joy (being a Chihuahua from CA in Washington State, mostly blankets and space heaters). Everything is causing me grief and pain. I feel like this is excessive but I cannot stop – it’s been 7 hours but I don’t know. This feels like too much and I don’t know if I’m strong enough.
I don’t even know what I’m looking for, it just seemed like someone could take this mess and tell me something. Anything. I just miss my boy and the only thing that would make me feel better is having him back. This is just too hard. I know he may have been up to 16 years old, but this still just kills me.

I have sleep paralysis somewhat regularly, it comes and goes. I have noticed I tend to get it more often when I don’t have a lot of sleep for a couple days. I have seen different sleep paralysis “demons” how ever the hat man experience I had was probably the worst sleep paralysis I have ever had. Here is the story
At the time I was living by myself in somewhat rural Alaska in a small duplex. My place was sorta small it was about 1000 sq ft with 2 bed 1 bath. When you open the front door the living room opens up to your right, the kitchen then bathroom are to your left and the 2 rooms are straight back with the doors being on the back side of the living room. Both rooms were pretty small, one I used for storage and the other my bedroom. Since the room was small my queen sized bed only fit comfortably in one orientation with the front door to the home being in direct line of sight from my bed and vice versa. Normally I sleep with my door closed but this particular night I slept with it open because I was so tired and accidentally fell asleep when I got home from a long day of work. I remember waking up to a noise and immediately noticed I couldn’t move. Since I get sleep paralysis often I have gotten better about not freaking out and normally if I close my eyes and focus on quickly rolling my body or moving my arm or leg I can move myself out of it. So almost routine at this point I quickly get myself out of it and sit up and look out into my living room to see what the noise was. Right next to my front door is a big window, I leave the blinds closed but light goes through them fairly easily. On this night the moon was probably full and the moonlight was coming through the window pretty bright and I could see my living room and kitchen fairly good. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I figured the sound came from sleep paralysis because not only do I sometimes see things but I also sometimes hear things. I went back to sleep. I again awoke in sleep paralysis but this time my chest was a bit heavier and my heart was pounding. The anxiety was a little more frightening and I didn’t immediately do my routine to get out of the sleep paralysis and mistakenly started looking around. That’s when I saw the hat man. My front door was wide open and white moon light shining in. At the door way the completely black figure with the distinct hat stood staring at me. I was in a state of panic and shock, I couldn’t tell if it was real or not because normally the environment doesn’t change and this time my front door was clearly open. I have a pistol I keep for self defense and it was on my nightstand. I did my routine, rolled my body and quickly grabbed my pistol. I sat up and pointed my pistol at my front door but it was closed and everything was normal. At this point my anxiety was high and I was nervous to fall back asleep because I haven’t had such bad sleep paralysis in a while but I laid back down, went on my phone for a bit and decided to go back to sleep. The way my duplex is set up my neighbor is on the bottom unit and I’m on the top so you have to go up some stairs to get to my front door. There is a small one car garage but it belongs to my downstairs neighbor and was used for storage so I parked my truck in front of it and the stairs to my front door was to the right of the garage and my truck. Now the dream is foggy but for some reason I dreamed that I woke up again, gotten scared and went outside to get in my truck and fell back asleep. I woke up again in sleep paralysis but this time I was in the passenger seat of my truck. Again I didn’t follow my routine, my head was foggy, confused, and nervous. I started looking around not being able to move and having my heart have this indescribable heavy pit of anxiety. I looked at my front door open with the hat man standing there looking inside my house. I was at this point, in such a state of panic I wanted to start crying, the type of crying when you make those disgusting audible sobs and gasp for air in between each sob, but because I couldn’t still being in sleep paralysis and not being able to move or make sound all I could do is watch this hat man in horror. It would get worse, while being a completely pitch black figure I could see the hat man move and turn his body around. He was now looking at me, my anxiety was at an all time high and at this point everything felt so real and looked so real that I believed it was real. I watched him slowly walk down the steps and make his way to my truck. He walked up to the window and I looked directly at his pitch black figure staring at me through the tinted window of my truck. And for the first time I saw a sleep paralysis “demon” with a color other than pitch black when the hat man grinned from ear to ear with pearly white teeth. His smile looked like Chester cat’s smile from Alice in Wonderland. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of fear at any other point in my life, panicked, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to roll out of the sleep paralysis. I could vividly feel the cold leather of my car seat on my skin but when I finally rolled out of my sleep paralysis I was in my bed. Safe to say I didn’t go back to sleep. That was my worst and most frightening sleep paralysis experience and (knock on wood) I haven’t experienced anything nearly as scary since.
That was when I was about to turn 20, I’m now about to turn 23 and I have made significant improvements to my sleep which in turn has caused me to experience way less sleep paralysis. That time still haunts me. The worst part was how real it felt I legit thought I was in my car I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and dream, everything felt so real. Sleep paralysis is the worst and none of my friends and family experience it, so when I talk about it they don’t seem to grasp how scary it is for me. I have had demons squeeze my throat to where I couldn’t breathe while their pitch black face stares at me. I’ve had people stand in my room and all I could do is watch hoping they aren’t real feeling so vulnerable from not being able to move. I’ve tried screaming at my partner to help as I watched them sleep next to me not being able to get the scream out and feeling so trapped and anxious. It really does suck and I’m sorry for all the other folks who have to deal with it. Feel free to share your worst sleep paralysis stories I’m curious as to what other people have experienced.

Background:

I'm a noob ofc, but I feel pretty proud of finally figuring out ways to put together the 4 takedowns that actually clicked for me so far. I learned my breakfalls to the satisfaction of our judo guy. I've experiemented with those "basic takedown/throws" lists and pestered the hell out of coaches and judo/wrestling guys. 4 clicked and I started experiemnting with them. I think I like to attack limbs first because... I have really long limbs. As a taller heavyweight the usual beginner takedowns--hip tosses (ogoshi) and double legs are hard to land. Big level changes require so much setup for me. Against smaller agile people I'm just to slow. Against other big people they're really risky--fuck getting sprawled on and/or guillotined by 220+ lb people. Neck crank city.
So this is what I've got.

From a collar and sleeve grip (ideally high cross collar plus tight wrist control):

1. Take a step back or better yet spin them backwards to get them to take a big step forward with their lead leg.
2. Hook ankle pick (the kind where I hook their foot with my foot to trap it and further off balance them before I reach)...
3. Snapdown with whatever grip I can get while the momentum is fresh.
4. Osoto gari the in the opposite direction I snapped them down.

From a 2-on-1 or if I can at least snag their elbow:

1. Arm drag (supposedly this can be a takedown by itself, but for now I'm just using it force them to shift their weight or step)...
2. Osoto gari from the "front 2-on-1" or "seoi nage grip"--really have to rip this one so they can't recover and work towards my back.
3. Switch to a normal 2-on-1 aka the russian tie. Make sure to lean on their shoulder so keep up the pressure.
4. Kick/sweep their near leg to force it back.
5. Hook ankle pick their far leg.

From a tie up or clinch where I can get good head position

1. Duck under. The duck under seems simple but it's not. There's a lot of nuance to both the steup and follow up I'm trying to work out.
2. Drop ankle pick (the kind where you drop to one knee) on the side I ducked.
3. Drop ankle pick the far leg if they they take near one away. I really only have to move my arm.
4. ??? Double? There's one somewhere around here, but it'll be a while before I start to sense it. The duck is a safer entry than a traditional shot for me and the ankle picks factor in too, but I'm not ready for that yet.

immediate work to be done

1. Practice the duck under, arm drag, and snapdown a lot. They look easy but are not and they are the keys to letting me chain takedowns.
2. Keep practicing grip fighting and stance without hyperfocusing on them.
3. Work my defense.
4. Tighten up the ankle pick and osoto gari mechanics.

stuff I probably need to do in the future but am not worried abt rn

1. Learn a few foot sweeps and other ashi waza. I like the hook ankle pick and osoto lot and using my feet as weapons feels pretty natural.
2. Try out some te waza like tai otoshi.
3. Work on my shots. Even if I don't use them much... A credible fake double can open doors based on my experimentation.
4. Learn knee picks and singles that compliment or expand upon my ankle picks. Sometimes we get one of those by accident anyway.
5. Learn a sacrifice throw.
6. Learn a takedown from the back--mat return, ura nage, etc.
7. Develop a way to attack the rear leg sometimes. Right now I only attack the front leg and that's fine but I'll need to learn sasae or something eventually.
8. Make sure whatever 3-6 takedowns I eventually settle on work gi and no gi.
9. Figure out something for chest-to-chest clinches other than "pummel for an underhook and go for an osoto!".... or at least get good at that move.
10. Try a lifting throw, just for funsies

So i get a side effect of swelling/tightness of the chest and nipple irritation and burning from finasteride.
For context i am natural so not on trt
I was on 0.25mg finasteride with a topical fin on top without issue for 10 months, but i swapped topical fin brands and got bad sides. I took a month off fin but still didnt recover but started to lose hair so jumped back on.
Pre side effects my e2 was mid 30s-40 range. Well while experiencing side effects it had gone to high 60s! My testosterone and shbg were always high.
This has happened in the past and i had to take multiple months off fin to flush it out., but i dont wanna do that now.
I planned to go back to 0.25mg fin with arimidex temporarily in the hope that the excess fin in my system would flush out back to baseline, then i could drop the ai.
So 3 days ago i took 0.25mg arimidex. I kept the dose conservative as everyone always complains about crashing e2 which i dont wanna do at all, i wanna keep e2 as high as tolerable. However the arimidex seemed to do nothing for my side effects.
I was gonna wait a week but my chest was annoying me so i popped another arimidex around 0.2mg around 4 hours ago. I still dont feel shit.
Is this normal? How long would it take to feel breast symptoms relief specifically? Do you guys think i may need 0.5mg instead maybe in a week or so? i wasnt expecting to need so much

All right here it is finally, thank you all for your patience and let's hope chapter 5 is a little more expedient. As usual I hope you enjoy and would love to get everyone's thoughts.
4: Memory transcription subject: Zeak, Harchen orphan, citizen of the Venlil Republic. Date: standardized human time July 13th 2136.
The sky was a roaring mass of fire and pungent black smoke that choked out the light of the sun. As I ran down the street, green blood flowed like a broad shallow river. It splashed up with every step I took, sticking to my scales, the smell of it made me feel sick. As the piercing wail of the emergency sirens seemed to grow louder and louder with every step I took making my ears ring and filling my head with a thunderous pain. My heart pounded, my lungs were on fire, and my legs felt like they were made of lead.
A herd of towering blurry figures appeared out of nowhere and ran past me, some almost knocking me down. In their panic they began to look more like crazed wild animals than people. I cried for help but they couldn't hear me. I waved my paws then grabbed one of them a male Venlil, tightening my grip with all the strength I had hoping this would get his attention. He threw me off like I was trash, less than trash. I turned around and continued pleading for anyone to help me, reaching out for others. But their frantic idiot eyes looked only straight ahead and not down, never down, as the herd passed me.
I turned back around and continued to run, blood splashing up soaking me all the way to my knees. I stumbled, my legs were so tired I could barely stand, and I fell down catching myself, plunging my paws into blood as deep as my wrists. I felt myself scream but I couldn't hear it over the ringing in my ears. A scrap of paper gently floated past me, a single word written on it that echoed in my mind “Weakling.” It passed and four more took its place, “Coward”, “Liar”, “Oath breaker”, “Murderer.” I screamed in rage and slapped the pieces of paper aside, blood splashing onto my snout, but the meanings of those words remained. Getting back up I stumbled forward, and fell down again. Then with an effort born out of sheer desperation I managed to stand again lurching forward. My legs were too tired to run but I had to keep going, I had to save them. Or at least her, please Protector if you're listening please let me save at least her.
It felt like I was searching for an endless time. Lurching forward, stumbling, falling down, getting back up, lurching forward once more. Eventually I saw it and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. My family's car was turned over on its roof, the driver's side had been caved in. It was engulfed in fire and thick black smoke that rose up into the sky. I struggled forward and when I reached it I collapsed, my knees hitting the hot pavement. The smell of burning metal and something else I didn't know assaulted my senses making my stomach turn. Every muscle in my body begged me to run away. Calling out their names l looked inside, and a wave of nausea and horror flooded through me.
I turned away and vomited, then reached up with my blood soaked paws and covered my eyes. Those words thundered in my head making me think it was going to burst open, as hot tears welled up. “WEAKLING! COWARD! LIAR! OATH BREAKER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! “I'm sorry I'm sorry, I should have stayed, I should have helped. Why did I run?” I wailed, still unable to hear myself. Someone rested a delicate paw on my shoulder, and the world went quiet. As the pain in my head melted away.
My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the gentle ringing of my alarm. In a rush of adrenaline I leaped out of bed not even bothering to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Running out of my bedroom and down the narrow hallway towards the living room. Convincing myself It had all just been a horrible, horrible nightmare and everything was alright. Mom and Dad would be fixing breakfast, Dad softly singing a Harchen folk song while making something savory and delicious as mom sang along in harmony, preparing something special for my baby sister Naila. Oh yes and Naila, she would probably be sitting on a cushion in the sunny part of the living room. Holding her crooked tail, a birth defect which my parents said could be fixed when she was older. And making excited chirping noises at my arrival, while sunlight shone against her emerald scales. I loved my baby sister, I knew other kids resented having a younger sibling. Dismissing their responsibilities and spending less time with their family and more with their friends. I never once felt that way, the moment Naila hatched I devoted every spare minute I had to her. Finding music that would help her fall asleep, watching over her when my mom needed a break. Excitedly telling her about the day's events and what I learned at school, especially what I learned in computer science which was my favorite class.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled bursting into the living room. “I just had the worst…” My voice trailed off as I was greeted with nothing “dream.” My heart tightened painfully in my chest, as I frantically ran through the house throwing open every door, knowing that they had to be here somewhere. They were just playing a game on me that was all, a game I would tell them I didn't appreciate. After the final door had been opened and no one was there to yell “Surprise!” My body slumped and I felt heavy as reality set back in, and the memories of what happened hit me like a hammer. I made my way back down the hall to my room, tail dragging behind me as I crawled back into bed. Wrapping myself tightly in a blanket, trying to find some comfort.
It must have been hours I lay there feeling numb all over, wishing I could get up the energy to just cry. I think I might have fallen asleep at one point. If I did it was a dreamless sleep, thank the stars for that. Eventually I did get up, sitting cross-legged on my bed, resting my chin in my paws, staring holes into the wall. I took a deep breath and side numbly looked out the window, searching for anything to distract myself with.
It was overcast, and eerily quiet. The emergency sirens had stopped blaring yesterday mere hours after everyone had gotten to the bunkers. The bodies of the dead had already been collected and their blood cleaned from the pavement. So as to not attract any predators into the neighborhood. I saw my neighbor A'shul was home, his white vehicle was sporting some new dents. I wondered, when he got into his vehicle yesterday morning and drove to the nearest bunker; did he try to help anyone? Or was he thinking only of himself? I suppose it didn't matter really. Nothing mattered.
I turned my head away and looked around my small room taking in everything, every trinket, misplaced item, my old second-hand desk, a big green crackle finished monster. Better suited for a Venlil than a young Harchen, heck I needed a stool just to use it. I had gotten it for basically nothing about a year ago, when the local extermination office was getting rid of their old furniture. All it took was a small bribe and they put it in my bedroom when no one was home. My parents, but especially my mom we're not happy when they saw it the next day. They would tell me at least once a week that It was too big for me and they were going to get rid of that eyesore. “Wouldn't you like something a little more modern dear?” My mom would ask, practically pleading for me to say yes. I used to pray that my parents would just shut up and stop bugging me about that stupid desk. I thought it was great, it made me think of private detective Bal from the exterminators show. Bal was a no nonsense Harchen who was so often pivotal in tracking down the predator or predator diseased person. My desk was very similar to his and that's why I wanted it. But at that moment, I would have given anything to hear those words again.
On the desk there was an ornate wooden box, with a fruit tree in full bloom delicately carved into its lid. There were also scuff marks where it had been dropped, and a deep crack running down the center. It was known as a blessing box, Naila's blessing box to be specific. When she hatched nearly ten months ago the whole neighborhood had been invited to come and write a blessing on a scrap of paper and put it in the box. I had written one too, not a blessing but a promise, a promise I couldn't keep. The belief was that if kept near the infant, the combined power of all those blessings would keep the hatchling safe until their first birthday. Where on that day the box would be set on fire and burned to ash. Releasing those blessings back into the world so they may protect someone else. It was an old tradition and not commonly practiced anymore, but as my dad always said “It is important to keep the old traditions alive my son. Both in song and action.” I remember asking him why? And he looked at me like he had been waiting for that question for a long time. “Because” He said, his tail moving with authority. “Someday when you lose your way, and you don't know where to turn to. You will always have something to guide you back to your center.”
Looking away from the box not wanting to look or think about the damn thing, I shifted my gaze down to my bedside table. There was a little holographic projector showing pictures of me, Mom, Dad and Naila on holiday back on Fahl, the Harchen home world to see family. I was born and raised on Venlil prime, so I didn't really know any of my extended family. There was a picture of my mom and Naila sleeping at the beach. Naila’s crooked tail coiled around mom’s arm, their scales a deep emerald in the light of the sun. The picture changed to me and Dad putting the finishing touches on a sand skyscraper taller than him. I had to sit on his shoulders to place the last bucket full of sand on top. Both of our scales were as blue as the ocean. My tail flicked sadly thinking of that day. I reached over and turned the holo protector off.
My holopad lay next to me flashing, alerting me to an urgent message. I hadn't really looked at my holopad since yesterday morning. Picking it up I tapped the flashing icon. It was an official government statement signed by Governor Tarva herself, saying that the humans Noah and Sarah were peaceful explorers, and that they only wished to be our friends. ‘No, that's impossible, they’re predators. Predators don't want peace, they want to conquer, kill and eat us,’ stunned and confused I kept reading. The rest of the message stated that the two human scientists were completely unaware there was intelligent life of any kind on Venlil prime. ‘No! Lies! Predator lies!’ I yelled inside my head. Something hot began to form in my chest as I read the last bit. Governor Tarver had shown the two predators footage of the Arxur torturing Venlil pups. It said that the humans were capable of empathy and felt deeply saddened and angered by what they saw. They vowed to do everything in their power to get their united nations into the war against the Arxur.
I scrolled all the way down and what I saw stopped me cold. Standing in her office being flanked by General Kam, stood Governor Tarva. Beside them looming over the two Venlil one bigger than the other, both of them covered in some sort of protective suit. Their faces were obscured by dark visored helmets. It said that the larger of the two Noah was male, and the smaller one was Sarah female. Sarah had her hands clasped in front of her, while Noah kept his to his side. Neither were acting threatening, and neither Tarva or Kam looked to be harmed in any way.
Something in me snapped, that hot thing inside my chest erupted and I could feel my scales turn black. I very carefully set my holopad down beside me, then I uncrossed my legs and got out of bed. I stood there in the center of my room shaking slightly, feeling terribly calm as white hot rage flooded my body, spreading to my paws and all the way out to the tip of my long tail. It never had to happen, the panic, the stampede, the death, we could have stayed home and avoided those people. ‘No… no not people,’ a bitter thought came over me. ‘They're not people at all, people stop and help, like that Venlil girl Kayleik, she was a person maybe the only one. But the rest of them were just wild animals, masquerading as sentient beings. ‘Do you really think you're any better, coward?’ Some internal voice said.
A sudden impulse took control of me and I grabbed my desks stool and hurled it against the wall. It dented the wall and bounced off still in one piece. Enraged, I leaped forward grabbing it by the legs, then turned around and slammed it into my desk. The sheet metal dented and the green crackle finish paint flew off, but the stool made of good dense wood from the string fruit tree stayed whole. “DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM!” I screamed, slamming the stool down again and again, my tail whipping wildly, striking the bed and the floor. The tip of my tail began to hurt, which only fueled my anger. Finally I heard cracking and wood began to splinter off. They didn't have to die, we could have stayed home. The muscles in my shoulders burned and my heart pounded as hot tears began to well up. I brought it down one final time narrowly avoiding the blessing box, and the stool broke in two. I hurled the pieces away from me, one slamming into the corner the other crashing through the window.
I leaned against the desk catching my breath as tears flowed freely. ‘Well that definitely showed them didn't it. Hey I got a great idea! Let's go break some more stuff, that will definitely make you feel better. Idiot!’ That internal voice said all coldness and bitterness. As I cried, the burning in my chest cooled, and I was filled with the same numbness as before. After a while my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I moved sluggishly out of my bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, quickly grabbed some fruit and left to go and watch the view screen or something. The moment I entered the living room, memories came flooding back. Mom and Dad laughing, Naila sleeping peacefully, the lingering aroma of breakfast, and the warmth of our home. But now it was all gone and I was alone. For the first time in my life, I had no one to go to.
It was right then I realized I couldn't stay here anymore. This place felt like a tomb, all cold and filled with the memories of the dead. Besides, if I stayed here someone would eventually send the authorities to come and get me. Ship me off to an orphanage, foster care or maybe to my extended family back on Fahl. I balked at the idea of being forced to live with people I didn't know or trust. Memories of yesterday's stampede invaded my mind and I shuddered. I couldn't trust any of them not anymore. No, there was one person I could think of that maybe I could trust. Turning around I went back to my room, found my backpack and grabbed my holopad, the blessing box, the holo projector and my blanket stuffing it into my pack. Then I went to the kitchen and filled my pack up the rest of the way with dried fruit and vegetable snacks. With my backpack looking like it was going to burst I shouldered it and made my way to the front door. When I rested my scaly paw on the door handle I stopped and looked back at the place that was once my home. “Goodbye” I said in a shaky voice, knowing this would be the last time I would never set foot in this house. With my head low I opened the door and stepped out, into the dim light of a new unfamiliar world.
Previous First

The town of Frostwood was a small, isolated community nestled deep within the Northern Rockies. The surrounding forest was dense, a labyrinth of towering pines and ancient oaks, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky. Winters were harsh and unforgiving, turning the world into a monochrome prison of ice and snow. It was here that the legend of the Wendigo was born, whispered among the townsfolk on long, cold nights.
Sarah had lived in Frostwood all her life. She knew the stories well: a creature, once human, transformed by an insatiable hunger for human flesh. Her grandmother used to warn her never to venture too far into the woods, especially after dark. "The Wendigo waits," she would say, her voice trembling. "It waits for the foolish and the lost."
One evening, Sarah's younger brother, Tom, didn't return from playing in the forest. Panic gripped her heart as she grabbed her coat and a flashlight, plunging into the twilight maze of trees. The search party had already scoured the nearby paths, their shouts echoing through the cold air, but Sarah knew Tom had a favorite hiding spot deeper in the woods, a secluded clearing they had discovered together.
As she trudged through the snow, the light of her flashlight danced across the shadows. The forest was eerily silent, the only sound the crunch of her boots on the frozen ground. She called out for Tom, her voice growing hoarse and desperate. The wind picked up, carrying with it a faint, chilling whisper.
"Sarah..."
She froze. It sounded like Tom, but distorted, as if coming from far away. She turned in circles, the beam of her flashlight slicing through the darkness.
"Tom, where are you?" she cried, her voice shaking.
"Here, Sarah..."
The voice was closer now, but wrong. It was accompanied by a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. She stumbled forward, breaking into the clearing. Her flashlight revealed a figure standing at the edge, barely visible in the shadows.
"Tom?" she whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.
The figure moved into the light, and Sarah's breath caught in her throat. It was her brother, but his eyes were hollow, lifeless. His skin was pallid and stretched tight over his bones. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a guttural, inhuman sound emerged.
Suddenly, the true horror stepped from the shadows behind Tom. The creature was tall and emaciated, its skin a sickly gray, hanging loosely from its skeletal frame. Its eyes were deep pits of darkness, and its mouth was a grotesque maw filled with sharp, rotting teeth. Long, clawed fingers rested on Tom's shoulders, as if puppeteering him.
The Wendigo.
Sarah screamed, but it was too late. The creature moved with a speed that defied its gaunt appearance, closing the distance between them in an instant. It swiped at her with its claws, tearing through her coat and grazing her skin. She fell to the ground, the flashlight skittering away, its beam casting erratic shadows.
The Wendigo loomed over her, its rancid breath hot against her face. Sarah struggled to crawl away, but the creature grabbed her leg, pulling her back with terrifying strength. She kicked and thrashed, managing to land a solid hit against its head. The Wendigo snarled, releasing her for just a moment.
She scrambled to her feet, grabbing the flashlight and swinging it wildly. The beam caught the creature in the eyes, and it recoiled with a shriek. Seizing the opportunity, Sarah bolted into the trees, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't dare look back, the Wendigo's furious roars echoing behind her.
She ran until her legs gave out, collapsing in the snow near the edge of town. The search party found her there, delirious and babbling about the creature in the woods. They didn't believe her, attributing her terror to the shock of losing her brother.
But Sarah knew the truth. She had seen the Wendigo, felt its hunger. Tom was gone, taken by the forest's dark secret. As she lay in her bed that night, she could still hear the creature's whispers, a promise of hunger that would never be sated.
In the heart of Frostwood, the Wendigo waits, its appetite endless, its presence a dark stain on the town's soul. And Sarah knew, deep down, that one day it would come for her again.

So, I wrote up a little intro to an RP I was taking part in with a friend, and it kinda... Spiralled.
I quite like what I ended up writing, so I'm sharing it here. I think I did a good enough job offering up an interesting angle on Stormcast.
For a bit of context; Améline is a Knight-Questor, and Gorgo is a mortal she's taken on as almost like an apprentice. Gorgo heard about this 'storm-goddess' that was immortal and couldn't be beaten, and glory-hungry tried to first defeat Améline in a fighting competition. Long story short, Gorgo got knocked out so early she didn't even get to fight Améline, but she ended up getting to train under her instead. Gorgo's grown quite a bit over the training, which includes getting traumatised by fighting Chaos alongside Améline.
Gorgo also has six snakes on her head instead of hair.
The reference Améline makes to being worshipped is that, well, she's pretty much a goddamn superhero. She inspires others, and because she's a demigod born from Sigmar some of that becomes outright worship, which she doesn't know how to deal with.

Out in the field, Améline could put on her sigmarite war-plate in just a bare few minutes, a skill refined by repeated necessity. Here, in the safe confines of the fortress, she could afford to take her time, slowly easing on each piece of her gear onto her body and tightening the leather straps until her armour was securely placed. As she did so, Améline quietly whispered prayers of warding to her armour in one of the secret tongues of Azyr, taught to her by her Lord-Relictor, Herakes Who-Carries-The-Firmament-And-Laughs.
Améline smiles to herself as she remembers when Herakes had let her in on a secret; the prayers by themselves, unless charged with arcane or divine power, did nothing for her armour. They were simply tools to focus the mind before battle and calm it with rote.
"And a Retributor-Prime needs all the focus they can get." the venerable Lord-Relictor had laughed. Scant moments later, she would watch him be eviscerated by a Bloodthirster while bellowing oaths of . But Améline liked the memory of that day regardless, and was thankful that it hadn't been one of the ones taken from her by the Anvil of Apotheosis. Try as she might to put the pain of loss from her mind, Améline missed the uncomplicated camaraderie of the Blackhammers.
It had been simpler in the early days of the Realmgate Wars, she muses to herself, not for the first time. Not easier, not by any measure. But Améline's world had been the Stormcast she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with, the enemies at her front, and the survivors she had rescued. Lord-Celestant Phionas gave the Retributor-Prime her orders, and she would enact them as best she could or die trying. She was surrounded by siblings who implicitly understood her in ways others struggled.
She hadn't stood out; she'd just been another warrior in Sigmar's army.
She hadn't been been a hero that people looked up to; just another Stormcast fighting to free the Realms.
Améline hadn't been worshipped back then.
And now...
Améline hears a knock on her door, and releases a quiet breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
This was nostalgia talking, she reminds herself. Cherry-picked memories of a hellish period of war, further pared down by numerous Reforgings. It had likely been just as messy back then too; she'd just managed to overcome the problems that had plagued her back then. She would do so again with the present, and whatever might come in the future.
She just wished she had the Blackhammers again, she thought mournfully to herself, before slowly easing herself upright, going over to the door and opening it.
When the door is opened, Améline finds herself looking down at Gorgo. The quiet gloom of the Stormcast's thoughts pervade further; though now she knew Gorgo was on the road to recovery, she couldn't help but see the young woman's trials marked all over her body. Not just in scars, but in the way she carries herself.
When Améline had first met Gorgo, she'd been a strutting peacock of a warrior, staring proudly right into Améline's eyes as if challenging the Stormcast to refuse training her. Améline hadn't begrudged the youth's pride; instead, she took it upon herself to let Gorgo remake it into something more productive, and healthy for the warrior. Améline remembered how her snakes had flared outwards, looking like the crest of a multi-coloured tropical bird.
The product of that training now stands before her; wan, tired, her shoulders slumped by weights that couldn't be seen by eye, but pulled her down terribly nonetheless. Even her snakes lounged down over her scalp and shoulders. Gorgo still looked up at Améline's eyes with a strange kind of confidence, born of experience rather than arrogance. Whatever her agony, Gorgo wasn't broken yet.
It still sent a pang of pain through Améline's soul to see her student seem so diminished. Perhaps the life Gorgo had chosen would have inevitably led to this moment, and thanks to Améline she would survive it; but that didn't stop Améline's mind from furiously rebelling against Gorgo's misery.
Would that the battle against Chaos had ended with the Realmgate Wars.
The words 'I'm sorry' had almost left Améline's lips when Gorgo pushed a spear into Améline's hand. The Stormcast immediately recognised it; it was Gorgo's choice weapon, the one she brought to training pit and battlefield alike. It was sturdy, a product of good craftsmanship and materials, and the tip was meticulously sharpened until it could pierce flesh and armour with but a thrust. Below the tip hung a stone carved with a rune that Améline didn't understand, but had seen Gorgo hold onto tightly when she thought no one was looking.
Améline had never seen Gorgo give that spear to another person.
"To fight the Khornates." Gorgo blurted out, pre-empting Améline's question. "You're going to need every bit of help you can get."
Gorgo shifted her feet, starting to turn as if to beat a hasty retreat, but Améline stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
There was so much that she wanted to tell Gorgo. The countless words welled up inside the Stormcast; how proud she was of Gorgo, how much she regretted failing the young warrior, how Améline wasn't worthy of training her, and just how dearly the Stormcast wished she could shelter Gorgo.
Instead of all the thoughts that swirled around her said, Améline said, almost surprising herself;
"After the Gorestorm is beaten, we're not going to train."
Gorgo flinched, and looked up at Améline with a hurt, betrayed look. Améline didn't know where her tongue was leading her, but it continued speaking for her;
"For a few weeks. Until then, I want to spend some time with you."
"You already do when we train." Gorgo mumbles, but the hurt in her eyes abates, and she starts looking curiously up at Améline.
"We're going to spend some time together at rest." Améline clarified, her voice becoming firmer as her thoughts slowly coalesced into coherency. "Theatre, dances, taverns. Whatever you want. My treat."
"Is Allassía going to be there?" Gorgo groans, and Améline's heart lightens as the young warrior's mood lifted. She might be grumbling, but by this point Améline knew when to recognise pantomime.
"If she wants to." Améline lightly replied, and was rewarded with Gorgo theatrically rolling her eyes, as if her lips hadn't just ticked upwards in a smile at the thought of spending time with her Hurakan rival.
And then, Gorgo seemed to throw away any last pretence of annoyance as she surged forwards and wrapped her arms around Améline's waist. For a moment the Stormcast wondered if Gorgo was trying to wrestle with her, before the warrior's sudden stillness revealed that she was instead hugging Améline.
"Thank you." Gorgo grunted, with a sincerity that broke Améline's heart a little. "For everything."
The words bubbled up once more from the dark recesses of Améline's mind, but this time she quieted them as she wrapped an arm around Gorgo's shoulders and hugged her back. There would be time for them.
But later.
Gorgo held on to Améline for a while longer, before just as abruply as she initiated the embrace, she broke from it. She took a step back with a laugh, put her hands on her hips, and looked up into Améline's eyes with some of her old, cocksure fire.
"Say hello to the Chained Butcher for me." Gorgo commanded, and Améline couldn't stifle her laughter before it bubbled up from her throat, hale and hearty and utterly taking her by storm. Gorgo joined in with Améline, before turning on her heel and strutting down the corridor, leaving Améline alone with the spear.

Basically the title. He will have a cough for a week and then it will go away. Instead of a cough, he will have a TON of snot. Then the cough comes right back a couple days later. He's in daycare unfortunately, but I dont have any options to move him. His ped seems unconcerned since his chest always sounds good. But this kid has just been sick with some crud or another a good deal of his life.
Is this just the daycare sick tax? My first didn't have to do daycare until almost 3 and I don't remember him going through this. It just seems like a lot for a baby.
Also, any ideas welcome to help a tickly itchy throat cough in a 3 month old would be great!

I am exhausted of trying to distract myself daily from my reality. My stomach sinks when I remember who I am, or see my skin, or catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
I work two jobs and try to fill my day but it is hard to keep going when I am reminded it is all for nought. The distractions don't work to keep my mind occupied. There is nothing for me to live for because I hate what I am.
I hate being black and I hate having been born to a muslim family. I am ashamed of these labels because these demographics have been the cause of many problems in the west. I hate my past experiences and I don't see a future for myself. I don't belong with any group so I find myself in limbo and isolated. I am too ashamed to leave the house because people like me are invading the western world. I hate everything about the way I was born and I wish I were white.
I don't have any good relationships or things I enjoy doing. I have this constant feeling of restlessness and tightness in my chest, as if I'm waiting to "wake up" from this nightmare. I deeply hate everything I am and if I died tomorrow nothing of value would have been lost

He's leaving his village to get away from a civil war between the branch family, and the main family. His dad doesn't expect to win the war Yes I understand d that using dots to represent a pause isn't the best way to do it, and that it confuses people. This is un-revised. I plan to do a little more research to better signal a pause for emotional exclamation. Tell me what you think of my first exerpt
"Why do I have to go mother?, you said I wouldn't be leaving for another 4 more years. so why?" Luceon asked.
"We are sorry son but the circumstances have changed. It is becoming too dangerous for you to stay." His mother said
"Father, at least tell me why I wasn't told before hand. Why so suddenly am I being torn from my home without even a warning?" Said Luceon
His father got down on one knee so as to be close to eye level.
"Luceon my son. You are a wise boy. The light behing your eyes seuggests an age far beyond your years so i..... I assure you that" for a moment his father's cheeks reddened as if he was about to let loose a tear. But only for moment. Then it was gone. His father, ever stoic wished to keep an air of "everything will be alright. Don't worry about us". Although Luceon could tell right away that something was horribly wrong. Something was being kept hidden from him. "I assure you... that if there was another way, we would keep you by our side... one day you will understand why it is you have had to leave."
His younger, adoptive brother by one year, crawled out from behind his father's legs and asked "brother, why are you leaving us? Why do you have to go?" His voice became quivery and a tear slid apart from his left eye. "I don't want you to go brother."
Luceon wrapped his arms around his brother and said "I don't want to go either. I really do hope we'll see each other again one day." He tightly held his brother., just as tight as his throat felt.
His mother stooped beside them and gripped them tightly. She said " Audrey is a fine woman. She is an old friend of ours, and of yours as well. She was here the day you were born. She's even held you in her arms. She has been anticipating the day she would see you again, though it is a bit early.... please come and greet luceon" his mother said aloud, so Audrey, who was still waiting inside the [not yet named animal] drawn carriage could hear, and be signaled to come out.
The woman who stepped out had the brightest shade of red hair he had ever seen. And the deep green color of her emerald eyes was a stark, and beautiful contrast. The fair and smooth features of her face gave him goosebumps. Yes... she had the kind of beauty that could spark war between nations. The kind of beauty that would tempt even the most zealous of clergymen. Yes.. to say she was beautiful was an understatement to be sure.
"Hello there child. I am Audrey Harpa. Though it is far to soon for us to meet, and the circumstances are less than optimal, I am more than happy to make your acquaintance." Her voice had a slight lilt in it. An echo of a forgotten accent, long since sanded away by the cogwheels of time. Luceon tucked himself away behind his father's legs just like his brother. "Luceon" his father said "say hello! You aren't like this with anyone else. Where did this bashfullness come from?"
He reluctantly came out from behind his father, and slowly raised his hand. Instead of stooping down to hold his hand like a normal adult would to greet a child, she stretched her arm down to meet his, as if she were greeting an equal. "I'm not happy for the circumstances either, but.... well, it's nice to make your acquaintance."
"So well spoken for your age" Audrey said
"Son, I would love to stay here with you and hold onto you for a few moments more but.... we really must say goodbye now. Audrey cannot linger any longer " his father stated.
"Father be truthful. Will I ever see you, mother and [unknown name] again?" He asked
This was the final straw that broke his father's composure."Damn this boy's intuition." He thought. He let loose more than a few tears, and his mother followed suit. "I..... I honestly cannot tell you. I really wish I could assure you that we will. But I cannot..."
His mother broke down into sobs next to him and held him. She said through choked tears "son.... promise me one thing.... promise you'll never forget who you are. Promise you'll never forget where you came from..... no matter what obstacles come, or what challenges you face, you came from us, and because of that we..." she was barely able to talk through the sobbing. "We are always with you..." she said as she placed a small leather bracelet adorned with little copper oraments into his palm. "Remember us"
They all held each other a little longer. Him, his mother, father, and tiny little brother. They cried for a few moments then, with his head facing the ground, he walked over to Audrey's side, unable to pick up his face.
Luceons father handed Audrey Luceon's baggage, and a small leather satchel as well as he whispered something into her ear. She nodded her head. And the climbed into the carriage. As the carriage departed, Luceon looked back through the dirty glass paned window to take in one last image of his family and his village. He stared until they were to far to see any longer... once his eyes were sure that they were out of sight.... luceon turned his back on his family. He turned his back on his old cobble stone village that housed his prideful clansmen. He turned his back on the rolling emerald plains that stretched across the isle of skye. He turned his back on scottland And most importantly, he turned his back on his home.
He shed one more solitary tear, and whispered "goodbye."

Hello All!
I am new here, and would like some insight from people, who deal with achalasia already, and could give some guidence.
I am 35 years old female, non drinking, non smoking. For about a year I am dealing with seems like some mistery illness, and I cannot figure out the cause. I thought I have asthma, sinusitis, allergies, LPR and you name it.
My most deliberating symptoms are: -mucus in throat shortly after eating, some days more, some days less, it cause coughing and throat clearing -fullness in my chest after meals, feeling like I can't take deep breaths in, chest feels tight in sternum area and feels like lungs have no space to expand, it passes maybe about half an hour after eating, warm tea helps and rest helps to calm it down -with excessive throat clearing and cough, comes feeling like I always have upper respiratory infection, lots of rawness in throat, sensitivity to smells, and strong tastes. Feeling asthmatic. Many times I will keep coughing, feeling like something is there, but it is not providing any relief -difficulty swallowing, sometimes feeling like somethings tickles my throat or food is stuck -regurgitation of foods, many times undigested, feeling of food sitting in my chest -thick mucus in my throat, food getting stuck sometimes as I swallow, and I cannot tolerate any sticky, slimy foods, like yogurts, peanut butter, breads, chocolate etc -tounge feels swollen, raw, coated and I do have sour taste in mouth
I had done so far: -lung function test, and chest xray that was normal, waiting for chest ct -ent scope, saw lots of mucus and dr thought it's mix reflux and allergies, waiting for sinus ct scan -autoimmune panel, came back slightly positive and waiting for reumatologist
Waiting for GI visit in October this year and PH probe November this year. I am currently on Acid Watcher diet and not taking anything for reflux, trying to deal with it with dietary and lifestyle adjustment. I am really hoping to get barium swallow soon, and gastroscopy done in the future.
Could my symptoms be related to achalasia?
Thanks for any tips!

So at 2.5 the boys are flourishing. We’ll do the 2 mile circuit around the neighborhood, running and walking at their pace. There’s also a 5 mile loop around a local lake we’ve done a few times where I’ll have them hop in and out of a wagon depending on fatigue and how safe the immediate surroundings are.
They fall down sometimes, scrape a knee, or bump their little coconuts. It’s remarkable how quickly they bounce back. Things that used to cause melt downs barely phase them now, they’ll still cry when they munch it at speed, but the boys and I seem to have an agreed upon time limit for crying spells.
During a crying spell, I’ll pick them up and count softly to ten, holding them to my chest in a tight embrace. Upon reaching ten they’ll sniffle a couple times and they’re done crying. I inspect the booboo, and have them move the affected area, and tell them they’re fine and they’ll hit the ground running. Sometimes if they’re right near me I can tell them to shake it off and they do and keep on trucking. I never ask them if they’re okay because they don’t know I’m supposed to be the adult.
Working on fostering resilience. I don’t want them to be having melt downs at every bumped head, skinned knee, or jammed finger in front of all of their potential friends when they reach school age. They I mean they still hit and steal from each other, and have meltdowns over that, but at least they don’t with other children. Lot to work on still, but they’ve exceeded my wildest expectations thus far. I feel very blessed.