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Before anyone could say anything else, there was a blinding flash of white light. The Dreadnought appeared directly in front of them, impeding their progress. Stormy fired the thrusters and tried to duck underneath.
"Get back into your seats! I'm going to link away again." Northern and Zhe dove towards their seats and bucked back up, but before Stormy could link, there was a clatter and a shudder throughout the ship. New alarms sounded throughout the ship, a kind of wailing trilling noise. It was incredibly loud.
"What's that Stormy?" Zhe clapped her hands over her large ears. "Can you turn it down any?"
"It's... It's a grapple. We've been grappled!" Stormy's rage permeated her voice. "Those were banned centuries ago! I can't believe they used a grapple on us."
"Can we do anything?" Fen asked. She looked down at her screen. There were new spots of orange on the readout where the grapple was damaging the hull.
"Our options at this point are to allow us to be taken aboard, or blow the reactor." Northern shook her head. "They've got us."
"Stormy, might as well disconnect and come up here. I don't want them doing anything to you." Fen closed her pad with a snap. She looked at Zhe and Northern. "Sorry."
Zhe shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry about, Fen. We're in this together."
Northern nodded. "Despite myself, I do find that I like you two. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. It's not your fault Fen."
Fen sighed. "Yeah, but if I wasn't a clone of the first Empress..."
"There's no way these people know that Fen. They're just after their current Empress and probably think we know something about it. I'd say just answer their questions mostly honestly." Northern ticked off points on her long fingers. "We saw her on Picaresque, we went out drinking, we partied with her and her honor guard, and in the morning we left. None off that is a lie."
Stormy walked into the Command Deck and looked around. Finding a seat, she sat down and buckled in. "The four of us is enough to operate a frigate of this size without raising too much suspicion. They shouldn't ask about whether we have an AI pilot."
Zhe's ears flicked in surprise. "Really? Only four people?"
She nodded. "It's just about the bare minimum, but it's possible. It could be explained away that we're a new merc group and haven't taken on more crew yet. These kind of ships are meant to be run lean and mean anyway."
Fen wasn't so sure, but she couldn't do anything else.
They waited.
About 30 minutes later, there was a pounding on the airlock. Fen unbuckled and went to the lock. Peering through the window she saw three armored spacesuits. She toggled the intercom. "Yes?"
"Human Imperial Navy. Open up please. We have some questions for you."
Please? That was interesting. "Why did you grapple me? You could have used your radio."
"The Admiral wishes to speak to you in person."
They did not elaborate further.
The voice of the suited person sighed. "Look. If you just open the doors, it'll go better for you. We won't even restrain you. You just open up, we bring you to the Admiral and then we let you go once she's happy with the answers."
"And if I don't open the lock?"
"Then we force it open, capture you, restrain you-" They hold up some metal zip cuffs. "-and still bring you to the Admiral. Only now, your ship is damaged and you can't leave once she's finished speaking. Your choice."
Fen cut the intercom. "Fuck." she said to nobody, and pressed the purge button. Both airlock door snapped open and there was a puff of air as the pressures equalized. Fen's ears were pained for a moment, but she swallowed and her ears popped.
The guard lifted their helmet. It was two men and a woman who looked so similar they could have been related. The woman smiled. "Thank you, really. My name is Lieutenant Shelly Cooper. What's yours?"
"I'm Captain Fenchurch Whitehorse, but please call me Fen."
"Very well, Fen. Who else is aboard?"
"The rest of my crew. They're on the Command Deck. There are four of us."
That caused Lieutenant Cooper to raise an eyebrow, "Four? That's it?"
Fen smiled awkwardly. "I wasn't able to hire anymore crew than that. Believe me when I say I've been trying." It wasn't a lie, not really. Fen found that there weren't many people who were willing to sign on to an unproven merc company, even if they were a couple years old.
The Lieutenant turned to one of the men behind her. "What did the bioscan say?"
He looked down at a pad strapped to the arm of his suit and tapped at it with a gloved hand. "She's not lying. Ship is empty except for the command deck."
"Curious." Cooper stared hard at Fen. "Have we met? Are you from Sol? You seem familiar to me."
"I don't see how. I grew up in a Gren station, far outside of Colonial space." Again, it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. Of course people in the military would know what the first Empress looked like.
"Hmm. Okay. If your crew agrees to keep the reactor powered down and be powered by an umbilical, they can stay confined to the ship and you accompany us. Deal?"
"Yes, I agree to those terms. Let me go tell my crew."
Lieutenant Cooper nods. "You have three minutes."
Fen hurries back to the command deck. "The Admiral wants to talk to me. They said you can stay here so long as you agree to be powered only by their umbilical."
Zhe stood up and crossed her arms, her tail swishing irritatedly. "It won't matter, because we're coming too."
Northern looked to Zhe and sighed, but only a little. "We can't leave you out to dry, Fen. We'll come along too. How bad can it be? Plus, if we come with you we can't suffer "an unfortunate accident" in the hangar."
Fen exhaled. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath in. "Thanks Northern, Zhe." She turned to Stormy. "You're welcome to come along, but I also know this isn't your thing. We had just hired you after all."
Stormy looked at Northern who shrugged with her eyes. "Up to you."
She runs her hands over her face. "Fuck, me. I swear Northern, you know how to pick them." Stormy stands up and smiles. "I'll come along, what the hell. Sitting on the ship was going to be boring by myself anyway."
The four of them went to the airlock, and Fen went up to Lieutenant Cooper "I spoke to my crew, and they want to accompany me."
Lieutenant Cooper throws up her hands. "Fine, I guess we'll just give you the VIP tour on the way." She gestures out towards the hangar. "Here is the hangar, where we store our smaller ships and boats, as well as the frigate of a merc captain we captured that the admiral wants to speak to and offered to let her crew stay onboard but they want to follow their captain to the ends of the galaxy."
Fen crossed her arms, but said nothing.
"Come on then. We'll find you some more chairs or something." Lieutenant Cooper turned on her heel and walked out of the hangar, without waiting for them to follow. The two guards with her looked at each other and one of them gestured for them to follow.
Not too far from the hangar, Lieutenant Cooper came upon a small conference room. She opened the door and led them inside. As they sat, a steward came by with a small cart of drinks. Fen was offered and accepted a coffee, and they went around offering beverages. Lieutenant Cooper also took a coffee, but everyone else abstained.
Cooper took a sip and looked down at the comm on her wrist. "The Admiral will be here shortly. Please be respectful. She's... lived a long life and doesn't suffer fools. If you want to make it back to your ship, answer her questions quickly and honestly."
Fen wasn't halfway through her coffee with the door chimed. Lieutenant Cooper stood. "This is where I leave you. The guards will wait outside the door and - should you be able - will escort you back to your ship." Her face was odd. She looked worried, and also like she felt bad for them. Just what kind of person was this Admiral?"
The door whooshed open and the Admiral strode in. She was about the same height as Cooper, maybe a few centimeters taller than Fen. Her hair was blond streaked with grey and she wore it clipped very short on the back and sides and a little longer in the front. She wore her hat at an angle that probably was against regulations. Her uniform was immaculate and her chest bulged with medals. She had a hard, but not unattractive face, lined with time. As she entered, she looked down at everyone sitting, and as she passed over them she stopped at Fen, and her breath caught.
"You are dismissed, Lieutenant."
Cooper saluted sharply. "Yes, Admiral."
"Dismiss the guards as well. I will not need them."
"Admiral? With all due respect-"
The Admiral turned to face Cooper and stared at her. Without saying anything at all, Fen could feel her shouting at the Lieutenant. Her gaze was withering. Cooper swallowed and saluted again. "Yes, Admiral."
The door closed behind her and the Admiral's demeanor immediately changed. She shrank down a little, looked older, less hard. She strode around the room and glanced down at the carafe of coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat at the head of the table. While everyone watched, rapt. She took a sip and placed it down on the table without a clink. She looked at Fen.
"You look like her, you know? I can see that you're different. A product of your upbringing. It's your eyes, and the way you carry yourself. I can see so much of her though. It's a little spooky."
Fen blinked. Whatever she expected, it wasn't this. "You know I'm a clone of the first Empress?"
The admiral laughed. Her voice was surprisingly musical. "Fen, I knew Melody. I was friends with her. I... I was on a different ship when she was killed. I became Empress after her."
Stormy gasped. "No. No way. She retired to Venus, and let her daughter reign. She would be over five hundred years old. You're not her."
The admiral smirked. "If you know all that, then you know that the Nanites can extend life. I can't do the Voice anymore, and it's been more than two centuries since I carried a crown and wings, but I am still me.
Northern turned and stared at Stormy. "Who is it, Stormy?"
The admiral spread her hands wide. "I am Empress Helen Raaden, First of Her Name, Ruler of Sol - Retired."

It was brutal. Absolutely brutal and there's no way around that. Cody's outburst has been posted about repeatedly today, but even beyond that the show was rough.
The crew was off on yesterday's show across the board. Not sure how much can be attributed to Soly not being there as the host/anchor that keeps everyone in line and the discussion flowing...but it was a complete disaster all around without him. Seemed like the whole show goes off the rails without him to contain the dialogue, as the other guys can't walk the line between their "bits" and actual logical golf takes. On the other hand, a show with just Soly would probably be incredibly boring with zero new/interesting content, so I guess it just highlights how the group is much better together vs a simple sum of their parts.
Cody's outburst was very odd, out of place, and disruptive to the show. Quite frankly, there's zero place for that BS in a golf podcast. This has been beat to death today so I don't need to add more here.
TC and Neil speaking about things that didn't even happen makes you question if they even watched the round of golf. Both of them went on and on about how great it was that Theegala didn't take TIO?? They were praising him as some kind of saint. The only problem is they were 100% wrong. The dude hit it so far into the wine vendors that he took a free TIO drop that was close to 100 yards away....Yet TC and Neil commended him for not taking TIO at all? It was one of the biggest TIO drops in the history of the PGA tour. The only logical explanation for their comments is they didn't even watch the event, and instead just saw highlights that misrepresented the actual events.
Cherry on top was TC saying Xander "got away with a lot on the back 9", when Xander hit 8/9 greens and the 1 miss was when his ball rolled a few inches onto the fringe (basically hit all 9 greens)...and yet he shot even par on the back. How do you hit every green, shoot even par, and yet you "get away with "a lot"?
Overall just a very rough night for the boys that highlighted a ton of issues they face, both internally from a relationship standpoint and externally from their lack of actually watching the golf they are commentating and podcasting on. Hopefully they improve from here.
Side note: hats off to KVV and how he handled Cody's absurd interrupting of his reporting. KVV was the only one bringing actual insightful golf commentary and reporting to the show, yet Cody tried to blow it up. Hats off to KVV for how he handled it.

The new weapons are a lot of fun for PvE but they haven't really seen a lot of serious use in PvP, and at this point in the season people seem to agree that they're just not as strong as the classic blundesnipe (or pistol/snipe once in a blue moon if you're feeling spicy) meta. Scattershots are also pretty unreliable in my experience because of the sheer randomness of the spread making 2 or more of the shots whiff even at point-blank. Overall, to me this just feels like the harpoon tightrope season so far. Rare seems to know this, as they hinted towards a balance update in their latest update video.
This is a tricky topic to talk about because while people have been sick of blundersnipe & boarding meta for ages, it is objectively hard to use and making the more technical strategies equally as strong as blind sword-spamming would be bad game design. At the same time, I think this game's pirate-v-pirate combat really fails to satisfy the pirate fantasy unlike the naval and the open world. Bhopping around, spamming food as soon as you get hit, gambling on oneshots... It's all very videogamey. Right now is the perfect opportunity to touch up one of the game's only objective weak points. Here's a list of ideas I've had:

• Remove the one-blundy. Make the thing shoot one fewer pellet. It's just too much. It's uninteractive, it's overcentralizing. This one feature completely warps the dynamics of boarding PvP. You are throwing by not having access to it on ladder defense, and you are throwing by not having access to it on offense. It doesn't make sense for the big loud clumsy shotgun to be the perfect stealth weapon, and it makes kills and deaths feel unearned.
• To compensate, slightly tighten the spread and increase the knockback. This turns it into more of a two-tap combo tool, while making it more consistent at ranges other than melee. Still synergizes well with the sniper
• Give throwing knives their 1-hit-KO backstab. Honestly I think knives are pretty well balanced, maybe make them a bit quicker to arm for how hard to hit they are. But the fact that you can't sneak up behind a cannoneer and spy tf2 backstab them is just heartbreaking. The stab doesn't feel like it has a usecase. It would probably be a pain in the ass to add back detection codewise, but if they plan on giving more content to stealth pirates later this year, this is an absolute must.
• Make sword blocking and whiffing more important. Take some cues from fighting games here - in sword v sword duels, committing to the whole 3-hit combo should be risky. If you block all 3 hits, the opponent should be recovering for long enough that you get to guarantee some serious hits on them. The "hitstun" / combo interruption also needs to be addressed, as at the moment its janky nature just leads to mindless M1 spamming. This would add a nice dynamic of patience to sword duels. A parry system would also be awesome, but that's beyond the scope of a simple mid-season balance pass.
• Add some sort of jump cooldown or something. Endless bhopping artificially buffs long-reload weapons like the sniper and blundy. More mobility does not always mean more fun.
• Make eating a slightly longer animation that can't be cancelled. Make people quit complaining about "foodreg" when they mess up their swap times by just eliminating that as a concern.
• Increase the reload times on the sniper. It's important that the eye of reach stays strong in ship-to-ship combat, but right now I don't think it has much of an opportunity cost when you're on the same deck.
• Let the double-barrel charge its shot faster. Right now it just feels so gummy and terrible to use. Maybe even put the charge on a different key or something, like R when you're already reloaded.

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.

I've been trying to turn these stairs for ages to get the key for big hat logan but I cannot figure out how to get on them.(I would post a picture but it won't let me as I don't have enough reddit points)

If I as someone interested in veganism would try to educate myself about said topic in the rightly called vegan subreddit, then would I find?
I would find people calling me sociopathic, stupid and inhumane. I would see people arguing that it literally doesn't matter how 'polite' or 'impolite' vegans are talking to people like me - which implies, again, that it's actually alright to bring out the big guns. And so on and so on and so on. I think we all know what I'm trying to get at.
As a fellow vegan I tip my hat. Great going everybody, only a couple more years and we will surely end animal abuse.

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

All I feel for my parents now is indifference. All I see in them is financial support.
I'm a 24-year-old man, happy on the face of it, with a good job, a great education and a great girlfriend. I thought everything was going well in my life. However, I realised that this wasn't the case. I had a breakthrough: I no longer feel anything for my parents. No love, no hate, no contempt, just nothing. As the title says, for me they're just a financial help.
I wasn't aware of this until a few months ago (well 6 months ago), but a discussion between friends made me realise it. It took me even longer to realise that I needed to talk about it, and today I've decided to talk about it on reddit, because it's weighing on me, and I don't know what to do.
To put it in context, today I'm with my girlfriend, quite a long way from my parents. I'm the eldest of 3 siblings. My parents divorced when I was 8-10 I think, and at first it was shared custody. As far as I remember, the divorce didn't affect me that much. It was a bit more complicated for the rest of my siblings, but nothing more. We alternated between my father and my mother on a regular basis, and everything was fine on the face of it.
However, my father is a violent person. He regularly lost his temper at the drop of a hat. He wasn't an alcoholic, he wasn't depressed, he was a normal person, but he sometimes lost his temper. And of course, we paid the price. I won't go into the details, but first it was my brother, who was almost sent to hospital, and then after an initial blow of pressure from my mother, he took it out on me. It was very violent. To tell you how angry he got over nothing, my beating was provoked by forgetting my notebook at school. That was it.
But apart from that, he was surprisingly a good father, who looked after us, organised activities... Even though I was still afraid of him. One day, I told him, and he said that was fine, that way I wouldn't do anything stupid.
Anyway, after his outburst against me, my mother took me to lodge a complaint against him. Then, of course, she got custody of the children. And that's when another ordeal began: life with my mother.
You'd think that with her everything would be fine, but it was horrible. I'd be tempted to say that with my mother it was worse, but that's probably because I spent longer with her (about ten years, before I left home).
So now you're probably wondering what it was like: well, she was violent in every way, both physically and psychologically. She's still a woman, so it wasn't as violent as with my father, but it was definitely more humiliating (pulling my hair, kicking me when I was on the floor, throwing herself at me to hit me, threatening me with a knife and saying she was going to kill me...). As with my father, she had violent outbursts (I strongly suspect she's bipolar, but she never wanted to admit it). On top of that, there was a lot of psychological violence, where I was belittled, humiliated, in short, the whole package. The worst was her mood swings, where one minute everything was fine, then the next minute I was being called names. I remember one memorable moment when I wanted to buy a $40 game, and I'd saved up half of it, and Mum told me she'd pay me half. So, all happy, we go to the shop, I get the game, I give her my $20 and she gives me her credit card so I can go and buy it. Only, I don't know what happened, but when I got to the checkout, she started calling me a thief, saying that I was ruining her, that I was a shit, that I was going to get us into trouble, that I was no better than my father, etc. I was so shocked that I couldn't believe it. I was so shocked that I didn't know what to do, and by the time I'd made up my mind, I'd bought the game... the next day was horrible. Or again: I was humiliated because I had put the pasta in the water before it boiled (my mother didn't want to cook, she was ‘lazy’). It may not sound like much, but it was a regular occurrence, mood swings and being insulted for no reason at all. Was she angry about a phone call? We took the blame. She spent all her time taking it out on us.
After a while, it started to take its toll, especially on me. I became unbearable with her. In fact, I was entering adolescence, the age when you start to rebel, and so I rebelled against her. But of course, she made me look like the big bad. One day, she even tried to make me look like a schizophrenic. Especially as, according to those close to her, she was very brave, because she was continuing with the divorce proceedings, continuing to ‘fight’ against our father, who had appealed against the sole custody decision. But she never gave up for several reasons: because she was simply lazy, because it would have been too complicated to abandon all the legal procedures, especially in relation to her family, and because this situation, which made her look like a poor, grieving mother, suited her anyway. In exchange, all she had to do was provide documents and go to the tribunal once a year on average. So, in terms of difficulty... Especially as everyone was supporting her, I was stuck. The only thing I can say in her defence is that she had a long depression, but I think that was mainly due to her poor mental health, which she never wanted to treat. But in my opinion, that in no way excuses her crises.
Fortunately, I was a surprisingly good student, so I never had to worry about getting into a good university. There were a few problems during my time at school, including of course bullying, mainly because my mother was so horrible that I shut myself off, had no friends... So obviously I became an easy target. But being away from all these family problems forced me to educate myself. I asserted myself, and the harassment stopped on its own. I even became friends with my former harassers.
Then the problems with my mother started to stop when I went away to boarding school. Then, after I graduated, I had to leave home to go to university, with a student loan. Even though my mother had other problematic behaviour with me, and with the rest of my siblings, I gradually distanced myself from her. I won't go into the details, but it had a lot to do with financial problems, where she demanded the money from my loan, or the money I was saving... And then recently I got back in touch with my father. It's complicated, because I haven't seen him or anyone else in his family for a long, long time. In fact, one point I haven't touched on is that my mother did everything she could to turn us against our father and his family, by telling us horrible things. It was typical parental alienation. So, on top of not having seen him for a long time, the fact that he beat me up, and his constant bouts of bloodshed (even if it's not physical), I'm finding it very hard to get back into a good relationship with him. Looking back, I know that a lot of the things my mother told me were false, or very exaggerated, but it's still complicated to sort out the truth from the falsehood.
Today, I can no longer call my father ‘Dad’ or my mother ‘Mum’. I find a way to avoid having to say these words. Or I force myself to use them when I need money, for example. I try to maintain a semblance of a relationship, but my parents realise that something's not right, especially my father. But for example, my mother has had serious health problems (several cancers...), and that hasn't affected me that much.
I've been able to take a lot of distance from everything my mother put us through. I realise what she put me through. But it's going to be a long time before I can tell her the 4 truths and move on. With my father, it's a bit easier, because there hasn't been as much damage. I think deep down there's still a bit of love left for them, but it's going to take a while for that to come back.
I hope I've made myself clear. Obviously, I haven't suffered nearly as much as some people, but it's weighing on me and I want to talk about it. I don't really know why I'm doing this, but I'm sure it's an outlet, because I can't really talk to anyone about this situation. I hope this will help a bit. Thanks in any case for reading all the way through.

I started reading this Novel and the first and second chapters were good however everything after those chapters was NONSENSE. The plot is like this, "Debby Alessandro received a sudden text from her fiancee that he had annulled their engagement. Heartbroken, she ran to her bestfriend's house to cry out her sorrow, but she unexpectedly saw her fiancée and her bestfriend having s*x. She felt like her heart was being butchered by a heartless murderer. Having nowhere else to run to, she landed in a club where she angrily and recklessly drank herself into a stupor. She unexpectedly woke up naked beside a strange man. She immediately parked her stuff and left the country. She came back five years later with her handsome boy. She didn't expect her son to get her in trouble by deflating one of the tires of a Mercedes-Maybach. How will she deal with the fact that the owner of the Mercedes-Maybach was not only her CEO but that he also has a striking resemblance with her son?"
This story had the potential to be good however the plot was wasted. I understand that there are bound to be misunderstandings between the leads however not every other chapter. The male lead is brainless even though he has a lot of power. What's even worse is that he doubted the female lead time and time again only to get proved wrong countless times, I think by now he should have unwavering trust in the female lead. Why is it that he is always clouded by anger continuously fails to discern the truth and gets easily manipulated by others when he has the power to uncover stuff and make a better judgment? I have never seen such an incapable CEO. Next is the female lead. The female lead has no backbone and can't stand up for herself. She is easily manipulated and plotted against. Although she knows it is a trap, she sits there, and it leads to her being prosecuted by the villains. All she does is beg and plead that she is innocent. By now she should be able to stand up for herself man geez. She needed to be stronger.
If I had to rate that book out of 5, it would be given a 0.5 because that story was ridiculous. Hats off to the author because at least you tried but you need to work on your grammar issues and plotting for a successful storyline that hooks your readers. Sadly, I would not recommend this book to anyone.

Im currently an injury negotiator for a large auto insurance company making 74k plus a 18% bonus at the end of the year.
Put simply this job suuuucccckkkksss. I fucking hat it. I started as a liability claims adjuster and then got promoted to this role which i have been doing for about a year now. Getting ready for another 12k promotion to a new role but i just hate it.
The only perk is that were are remote but otherwise I would jump ship in a minute if i could find something else.
Im looking for more money. How can i make 200 or 300 grand? I have a degree in media and journalism.

I started reading this Novel and the first and second chapters were good however everything after those chapters was NONSENSE. The plot is like this, "Debby Alessandro received a sudden text from her fiancee that he had annulled their engagement. Heartbroken, she ran to her bestfriend's house to cry out her sorrow, but she unexpectedly saw her fiancée and her bestfriend having s*x. She felt like her heart was being butchered by a heartless murderer. Having nowhere else to run to, she landed in a club where she angrily and recklessly drank herself into a stupor. She unexpectedly woke up naked beside a strange man. She immediately parked her stuff and left the country. She came back five years later with her handsome boy. She didn't expect her son to get her in trouble by deflating one of the tires of a Mercedes-Maybach. How will she deal with the fact that the owner of the Mercedes-Maybach was not only her CEO but that he also has a striking resemblance with her son?"
This story had the potential to be good however the plot was wasted. I understand that there are bound to be misunderstandings between the leads however not every other chapter. The male lead is brainless even though he has a lot of power. What's even worse is that he doubted the female lead time and time again only to get proved wrong countless times, I think by now he should have unwavering trust in the female lead. Why is it that he is always clouded by anger continuously fails to discern the truth and gets easily manipulated by others when he has the power to uncover stuff and make a better judgment? I have never seen such an incapable CEO. Next is the female lead. The female lead has no backbone and can't stand up for herself. She is easily manipulated and plotted against. Although she knows it is a trap, she sits there, and it leads to her being prosecuted by the villains. All she does is beg and plead that she is innocent. By now she should be able to stand up for herself man geez. She needed to be stronger.
If I had to rate that book out of 5, it would be given a 0.5 because that story was ridiculous. Hats off to the author because at least you tried but you need to work on your grammar issues and plotting for a successful storyline that hooks your readers. Sadly, I would not recommend this book to anyone.

Hello everyone, this is my first EDC. I loved day 1 so far, it was a lot of fun, but I did notice things. Some are good and bad. For reference I'm a male, 30 years that went completely solo.

1. Wear comfortable shoes! - I can't stress enough how important this is, by the time I had to emigrate back to south brown lot, my feet felt like they were run over by a tractor.
   
2. Which brings me to my next point. If i don't have an official EDM shuttle next year, I'm not going. It's literally that bad. It's an insanely far walk, has no seating and my shuttle was an hour late, leaving me to be chum for the nearby bugs while I debated if I should just throw my shoes away.
   
3. People are really friendly and social until it gets crowded. I was already sprouted and given 2 little ducks by random people. The crowd is awesome, but once it starts getting packed, prepare to get pushed around. A lot.
   
4. Use the insomniacs app to streamline what set you want to see. It'll sort it by time and place where the DJs will be for the day.
   
5. Bring a hydration pack and ask for 2 cups of ice when you buy waters. Fill it up and keep your water cold all night. I must've drank like 8 liters
   
6. Reception is terrible but I was able to send and receive messages here and there under the kinetic fields owls.
   
7. A lot of tents have 2 lines and people don't realize it so if you see someone behind a tent that doesn't have a line, it usually means you'll get first dibs.
   
8. Screenshot the map from insomniac app. I had to help a few people find things cause they didn't have a map.
   
9. Go to Walmart and get a little fan you can charge. I have one that hangs on my neck and I'm sure it's what kept me from heatstroke
   
10. My most important tip. Get the eargasm plugs! I was able to hear everything clearly and I have absolutely no ringing in my ears right now. And spend the extra bit for the cord. It's very worth it
    

But overall it's been a very fun experience, thank you to everyone that came up and talked to me and gave little trinkets. Say hi if you see me. I may look like I'm in my own little world (cause I am) but I'm friendly. I'm a black guy and I'll be wearing a playboy hat (only one I brought) with a blue mushroom sprout and all black and white outfit tonight. Probably at your local bench haha

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It-tabella emblematika tal-IMĦABBA ta’ San Ġiljan se tkun imgeżwer f’kaxxi tal-kits tal-awtotest tal-HIV b’tifkira tal-Ġimgħa Ewropea tal-Ittestjar, bħala parti minn inizjattiva mwaqqfa minn għadd ta’ organizzazzjonijiet lokali.
Checkpoint Malta u l-artista lokali Emma Grima ħolqu l-installazzjoni u ħadu fuq il-midja soċjali biex jaqsmu l-proċess kumpless.
“Malta għandha waħda mill-ogħla rati Ewropej ta’ HIV u STIs, parzjalment minħabba stigma jew nuqqas ta’ informazzjoni dwar is-suġġett. L-installazzjoni interattiva se tinkludi informazzjoni dwar l-importanza tal-ittestjar tal-HIV u kif u fejn isir it-test,” kiteb il-Moviment Graffitti fuq il-midja soċjali.
""Billi n-normalizzazzjoni u ż-żieda fl-użu tal-ittestjar tal-HIV u l-iskrinjar tas-saħħa sesswali, it-trażmissjoni ġenerali tal-STI tista 'titnaqqas u l-mard jista' jiġi skopert kmieni, u twitti t-triq għal trattament effettiv.""
Il-kontributuri ewlenin ikkollaboraw ma’ diversi organizzazzjonijiet għall-kampanja, fosthom Moviment Graffitti, MGRM, HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo, u Sexual Health Malta. Jibda llum u se jkompli sal-25 ta’ Mejju, u jservi ta’ tfakkira viżwali tal-importanza tal-ittestjar tal-HIV permezz tal-informazzjoni pprovduta fuq l-installazzjoni interattiva.
Minn din is-sena, Checkpoint beda joffri b’xejn sessjonijiet ta’ ttestjar tal-HIV immexxija mill-komunità kull xahar fil-Belt Valletta u Għawdex, kif ukoll sessjonijiet ta’ kull xahrejn f’Raħal Ġdid. Il-punti ta’ ttestjar ġew organizzati b’kollaborazzjoni ma’ xi aġenziji tal-istat, bħal HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo u d-Direttorat tad-Drittijiet tal-Bniedem, fost oħrajn.
L-entitajiet involuti qed jagħtu wkoll kits tat-test tal-HIV b’xejn lill-pubbliku bħala parti mill-kampanja.
Se tkun qed iżżur l-installazzjoni?
AQRA LI JMISS: 5 Raġunijiet Biex Issaħħaħ il-Marka Tiegħek Ma' Lovin Malta
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffiti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
—
L-Amazon Deals tal-lum (Afljat), id-destinazzjoni tiegħek one-stop għal oġġetti affordabbli, perfetta għal dekorazzjoni tad-dar, elettroniċi, provvisti għall-annimali domestiċi, sports u selezzjonijiet tal-ġugarelli. - https://amzn.to/3FeoGyg
Ċaħda ta' responsabbiltà: Dan is-sit huwa għal skopijiet informattivi biss u m'għandux jitqies parir legali [saħħa, taxxa, professjoni]. Aħna m'aħniex responsabbli għal kwalunkwe telf, ħsarat, jew obbligazzjonijiet li jistgħu jinqalgħu mill-użu ta 'dan il-blog. Dan il-blog mhux maħsub biex jissostitwixxi parir mediku professjonali. Il-fehmiet espressi f'dan il-blog jistgħu ma jkunux dawk tal-host jew tal-maniġment.
https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews
"
"「我們是積極的」：馬耳他檢查站與當地藝術家一起改造標誌性的「愛」標誌，以進行愛滋病毒宣傳活動
聖朱利安標誌性的「LOVE」標誌將被包裝在愛滋病毒自檢套件盒中，以紀念歐洲檢測週，這是許多當地組織發起的一項倡議的一部分。
馬耳他檢查站和當地藝術家艾瑪·格里瑪創作了這個裝置，並在社交媒體上分享了這個複雜的過程。
「馬耳他是歐洲愛滋病毒和性傳染感染發生率最高的國家之一，部分原因是恥辱或缺乏相關資訊。互動裝置將包括有關愛滋病毒檢測的重要性以及如何以及在哪裡進行檢測的信息，」Moviment Graffitti 在社交媒體上寫道。
“透過規範和增加愛滋病毒檢測和性健康篩檢的使用，可以減少性傳播感染的整體傳播，並可以及早發現疾病，為有效治療鋪平道路。”
活動的主要貢獻者與多個組織合作，包括 Moviment Graffitti、MGRM、HIV Malta、LGBTI+ Gozo 和 Sexual Health Malta。該活動從今天開始一直持續到 5 月 25 日，透過互動裝置上提供的資訊以視覺方式提醒人們愛滋病毒檢測的重要性。
從今年起，Checkpoint 開始在瓦萊塔和戈佐島提供由社區主導的免費愛滋病毒每月檢測課程，並在保拉提供每兩個月一次的檢測課程。這些測試檢查站是與一些國家機構合作組織的，例如馬耳他愛滋病毒、LGBTI+戈佐島和人權理事會等。
作為活動的一部分，相關實體也向公眾免費贈送愛滋病毒檢測試劑盒。
您會參觀安裝嗎？
閱讀下一篇：透過 Lovin Malta 提升品牌形象的 5 個理由
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/ Sex-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
—
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https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews
"
"‘We Are Positive’: Checkpoint Malta Transform Iconic LOVE Sign For HIV Awareness Campaign Along With Local Artist
The St. Julian’s iconic LOVE sign will be wrapped in HIV self-test kit boxes in commemoration of European Testing Week, as part of an initiative set up by a number of local organisations.
Checkpoint Malta and local artist Emma Grima created the installation and took to social media to share the intricate process.
“Malta has one of Europe’s highest rates of HIV and STIs, partly due to stigma or lack of information on the subject. The interactive installation will include information on the importance of HIV testing and how and where to get tested,” Moviment Graffitti wrote on social media.
“By normalising and increasing the use of HIV testing and sexual health screening, overall STI transmission can be reduced and diseases can be detected early, paving the way for effective treatment.”
The lead contributors collaborated with several organisations for the campaign, including Moviment Graffitti, MGRM, HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo, and Sexual Health Malta. It starts today and will continue until 25th May, serving as a visual reminder of the importance of HIV testing through the information provided on the interactive installation.
As of this year, Checkpoint started offering free community-led HIV monthly testing sessions in Valletta and Gozo, as well as bi-monthly sessions in Paola. The testing checkpoints were organised in collaboration with some state agencies, such as HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo and the Human Rights Directorate, amongst others.
The entities involved are also giving out free HIV test kits to the public as part of the campaign.
Will you be visiting the installation?
READ NEXT: 5 Reasons To Boost Your Brand With Lovin Malta
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
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"'हम सकारात्मक हैं': चेकप्वाइंट माल्टा ने स्थानीय कलाकारों के साथ एचआईवी जागरूकता अभियान के लिए प्रतिष्ठित प्रेम चिन्ह को रूपांतरित किया
कई स्थानीय संगठनों द्वारा स्थापित एक पहल के हिस्से के रूप में, यूरोपीय परीक्षण सप्ताह की स्मृति में सेंट जूलियन के प्रतिष्ठित प्रेम चिह्न को एचआईवी स्व-परीक्षण किट बक्से में लपेटा जाएगा।
चेकपॉइंट माल्टा और स्थानीय कलाकार एम्मा ग्रिमा ने इंस्टॉलेशन बनाया और जटिल प्रक्रिया को साझा करने के लिए सोशल मीडिया का सहारा लिया।
“माल्टा में यूरोप में एचआईवी और एसटीआई की दर सबसे अधिक है, जो आंशिक रूप से कलंक या विषय पर जानकारी की कमी के कारण है। इंटरैक्टिव इंस्टॉलेशन में एचआईवी परीक्षण के महत्व और परीक्षण कैसे और कहां किया जाए, इसकी जानकारी शामिल होगी, ”मोविमेंट ग्रैफिटी ने सोशल मीडिया पर लिखा।
""एचआईवी परीक्षण और यौन स्वास्थ्य जांच के उपयोग को सामान्य बनाने और बढ़ाने से, समग्र एसटीआई संचरण को कम किया जा सकता है और बीमारियों का शीघ्र पता लगाया जा सकता है, जिससे प्रभावी उपचार का मार्ग प्रशस्त होता है।""
प्रमुख योगदानकर्ताओं ने अभियान के लिए कई संगठनों के साथ सहयोग किया, जिनमें मोविमेंट ग्रैफ़िटी, एमजीआरएम, एचआईवी माल्टा, एलजीबीटीआई+ गोज़ो और यौन स्वास्थ्य माल्टा शामिल हैं। यह आज से शुरू हो रहा है और 25 मई तक जारी रहेगा, जो इंटरैक्टिव इंस्टॉलेशन पर दी गई जानकारी के माध्यम से एचआईवी परीक्षण के महत्व के दृश्य अनुस्मारक के रूप में कार्य करेगा।
इस वर्ष से, चेकपॉइंट ने वेलेटा और गोज़ो में मुफ्त समुदाय-आधारित एचआईवी मासिक परीक्षण सत्र, साथ ही पाओला में द्वि-मासिक सत्र की पेशकश शुरू कर दी है। परीक्षण चौकियों का आयोजन कुछ राज्य एजेंसियों, जैसे एचआईवी माल्टा, एलजीबीटीआई+ गोज़ो और मानवाधिकार निदेशालय आदि के सहयोग से किया गया था।
इसमें शामिल संस्थाएं अभियान के हिस्से के रूप में जनता को मुफ्त एचआईवी परीक्षण किट भी दे रही हैं।
क्या आप इंस्टालेशन का दौरा करेंगे?
आगे पढ़ें: लविन माल्टा के साथ अपने ब्रांड को बढ़ावा देने के 5 कारण
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
—
आज की अमेज़ॅन डील (संबद्ध), किफायती वस्तुओं के लिए आपका वन-स्टॉप गंतव्य, घर की सजावट, इलेक्ट्रॉनिक, पालतू जानवरों की आपूर्ति, खेल और खिलौनों के चयन के लिए बिल्कुल सही। - https://amzn.to/3FeoGyg
अस्वीकरण: यह साइट केवल सूचनात्मक उद्देश्यों के लिए है और इसे कानूनी [स्वास्थ्य, कर, पेशा] सलाह नहीं माना जाना चाहिए। हम इस ब्लॉग के उपयोग से होने वाले किसी भी नुकसान, क्षति या देनदारियों के लिए जिम्मेदार नहीं हैं। इस ब्लॉग का उद्देश्य पेशेवर चिकित्सा सलाह को प्रतिस्थापित करना नहीं है। इस ब्लॉग में व्यक्त विचार मेज़बान या प्रबंधन के नहीं हो सकते हैं।
https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews
"
"“Somos positivos”: Checkpoint Malta transforma el icónico cartel de AMOR para una campaña de concientización sobre el VIH junto con un artista local
El icónico cartel LOVE de San Julián estará envuelto en cajas de kits de autodiagnóstico del VIH en conmemoración de la Semana Europea de las Pruebas, como parte de una iniciativa creada por varias organizaciones locales.
Checkpoint Malta y la artista local Emma Grima crearon la instalación y recurrieron a las redes sociales para compartir el complejo proceso.
“Malta tiene una de las tasas de VIH e ITS más altas de Europa, en parte debido al estigma o la falta de información sobre el tema. La instalación interactiva incluirá información sobre la importancia de la prueba del VIH y cómo y dónde hacerse la prueba”, escribió Moviment Graffitti en las redes sociales.
""Al normalizar y aumentar el uso de las pruebas del VIH y de la salud sexual, se puede reducir la transmisión general de ITS y detectar las enfermedades tempranamente, allanando el camino para un tratamiento eficaz"".
Los contribuyentes principales colaboraron con varias organizaciones para la campaña, incluidas Moviment Graffitti, MGRM, VIH Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo y Sexual Health Malta. Comienza hoy y continuará hasta el 25 de mayo, sirviendo como un recordatorio visual de la importancia de las pruebas del VIH a través de la información proporcionada en la instalación interactiva.
A partir de este año, Checkpoint comenzó a ofrecer sesiones mensuales gratuitas de pruebas de VIH dirigidas por la comunidad en La Valeta y Gozo, así como sesiones bimensuales en Paola. Los puntos de control de pruebas se organizaron en colaboración con algunas agencias estatales, como VIH Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo y la Dirección de Derechos Humanos, entre otras.
Las entidades involucradas también están entregando al público kits de prueba de VIH gratuitos como parte de la campaña.
¿Visitarás la instalación?
LEA A CONTINUACIÓN: 5 razones para impulsar su marca con Lovin Malta
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
—
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https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews
"
"« Nous sommes positifs » : Checkpoint Malta transforme le panneau LOVE emblématique pour une campagne de sensibilisation au VIH avec un artiste local
Le signe emblématique LOVE de Saint-Julien sera emballé dans des boîtes de kits d’autotest du VIH en commémoration de la Semaine européenne du dépistage, dans le cadre d’une initiative mise en place par un certain nombre d’organisations locales.
Checkpoint Malta et l'artiste locale Emma Grima ont créé l'installation et ont partagé le processus complexe sur les réseaux sociaux.
« Malte a l’un des taux de VIH et d’IST les plus élevés d’Europe, en partie à cause de la stigmatisation ou du manque d’informations sur le sujet. L'installation interactive comprendra des informations sur l'importance du dépistage du VIH et comment et où se faire tester », a écrit Moviment Graffitti sur les réseaux sociaux.
« En normalisant et en augmentant le recours au dépistage du VIH et au dépistage de santé sexuelle, la transmission globale des IST peut être réduite et les maladies peuvent être détectées précocement, ouvrant ainsi la voie à un traitement efficace. »
Les principaux contributeurs ont collaboré avec plusieurs organisations pour la campagne, notamment Moviment Graffitti, MGRM, HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo et Sexual Health Malta. Il commence aujourd'hui et se poursuivra jusqu'au 25 mai, servant de rappel visuel de l'importance du dépistage du VIH à travers les informations fournies sur l'installation interactive.
Depuis cette année, Checkpoint a commencé à proposer des séances mensuelles gratuites de dépistage du VIH à La Valette et à Gozo, ainsi que des séances bimensuelles à Paola. Les points de contrôle de dépistage ont été organisés en collaboration avec certaines agences d'État, telles que HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo et la Direction des droits de l'homme, entre autres.
Les entités impliquées distribuent également des kits de dépistage gratuits du VIH au public dans le cadre de la campagne.
Allez-vous visiter l’installation ?
LIRE SUIVANT : 5 raisons de booster votre marque avec Lovin Malta
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
—
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https://www.reddit.com/SinoMaltaNews
"
"„Wir sind positiv“: Checkpoint Malta verwandelt zusammen mit einem lokalen Künstler das ikonische LOVE-Zeichen für eine HIV-Aufklärungskampagne
Das ikonische LOVE-Zeichen von St. Julian’s wird im Rahmen einer Initiative mehrerer lokaler Organisationen anlässlich der Europäischen Testwoche in Kartons mit HIV-Selbsttestkits verpackt.
Checkpoint Malta und die lokale Künstlerin Emma Grima schufen die Installation und nutzten die sozialen Medien, um den komplizierten Prozess zu teilen.
„Malta hat eine der höchsten HIV- und STI-Raten in Europa, was teilweise auf Stigmatisierung oder mangelnde Informationen zu diesem Thema zurückzuführen ist. Die interaktive Installation wird Informationen über die Bedeutung von HIV-Tests und darüber enthalten, wie und wo man sich testen lässt“, schrieb Moviment Graffitti in den sozialen Medien.
„Durch die Normalisierung und den verstärkten Einsatz von HIV-Tests und sexuellen Gesundheitsscreenings kann die Gesamtübertragung von STI reduziert und Krankheiten frühzeitig erkannt werden, was den Weg für eine wirksame Behandlung ebnet.“
Die Hauptmitwirkenden arbeiteten für die Kampagne mit mehreren Organisationen zusammen, darunter Moviment Graffitti, MGRM, HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo und Sexual Health Malta. Es beginnt heute und dauert bis zum 25. Mai und dient durch die in der interaktiven Installation bereitgestellten Informationen als visuelle Erinnerung an die Bedeutung von HIV-Tests.
Seit diesem Jahr bietet Checkpoint kostenlose, von der Gemeinde geleitete monatliche HIV-Testsitzungen in Valletta und Gozo sowie alle zwei Monate in Paola an. Die Testkontrollpunkte wurden in Zusammenarbeit mit einigen staatlichen Behörden organisiert, unter anderem mit HIV Malta, LGBTI+ Gozo und dem Human Rights Directorate.
Die beteiligten Einrichtungen verteilen im Rahmen der Kampagne auch kostenlose HIV-Testkits an die Öffentlichkeit.
Werden Sie die Installation besichtigen?
WEITER LESEN: 5 Gründe, Ihre Marke mit Lovin Malta zu stärken
https://lovinmalta.com/lifestyle/health/sexual-health/we-are-positive-moviment-graffitti-transform-iconic-love-sign-for-hiv-awareness-campaign/
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"

Feels pretty surreal.
A few-take-aways:
-we had way less time for prepro on this one, so it was a much more collaborative effort then my first (not that the first wasn't collaborative, but I had storyboards...etc) this one was a lot more, figure it out on the fly.
-On set I waaaaay more confident in every aspect compared to my first film, from handling crew and cast to producers and location management.
-better understanding of time management/how long shots take to setup/ how long HMU takes
-moving forward get a production designer for all future films
-used SFX for the first time, and dropped the ball a bit here, but learned what to prepare for next time
-used a script supervisor for the first time. Ive edited a handful of short films, and this was the first time Ive had notes. Was nice to have
-editing is my favourite part of the pipeline, but i will never edit my own films again. I did both my films, and realize it's too many hats, and I start to have one foot out the door onto my next project this late in the game.
-prob lots more I can't remember right now...
Anyone else have any take aways from their own experiences?