In hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with The Caeles Academy of Acting.
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
It didn't exist, at least on Google.
So, I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him.
After being excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door.
I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back.
Lifting his head, half lidded eyes found the sky, before he dropped to his knees, heaving pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up.
She clapped loudly. Obnoxiously.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!”
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaked the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I yanked off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds that I had never realized was so thin.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone grab one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.

Hello! I tested positive on May 15 (I am not sure if that makes today Day 3 or Day 4). In any case, my test line on the RAT is still very strong and I am feeling a little anxious about that.
My symptoms are mild. Started off with a slight fever of 99-100, headache. Both of those are gone, and now I’m left with mild congestion and an occasional phlegm-y cough. HR is a little higher than normal as well (resting is in the early 80s currently).
I am a little concerned as to why the test line is not fading at all if I am starting to feel better? This is my first time getting Covid and I already am struggling with health anxiety for a while. And this just feels like a lot at the same time.
Any insight/reassurances (exaggerated lol or real) would be greatly appreciated ☺️

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!

On a beautiful day sunny morning ..
Japan complains .. “ Damn i hate South Korea so much ! She sucks ! “
“ I don ’ t even know WHY you are complaining ! “ North Korea adds ..
“ That is because you are too stupid ! Besides , i am. still waiting for South Korea ‘ s death ! “
“ Shut up ! Listen , South Korea is a tech nerd , not a country . She does not die like that . “ North Korea explains ..
“ Okay little sister if it is that , then i will not let you use my train money to go back home ! “ South Korea arrives and tells her ..
“ I don ‘ t care , Nukey will bring me back home ! “ North Korea retorts .
[ Later that day China decided to bring North Korea back home , so they sit togheter in the train they are leaving the clay of Worst Korea . ]
North Korea sees the vending mashine and there is only juice sadly .. she is starving.
“ Oh no i am hungry ... “ North Korea complains .
“ You made that super clear " China adds
Suddenly (💀) North Korea pulls China out of the train and brings her to the vending mashine ..
North Korea asks China for money abd China gives it , but North Korea is never satisfied because tüshe only gets "weird " juices ..
" Hurry up or the train might -" .. China begins but turns around and sees the train leaving ..
" Leave " ..
" It ’ s your fault ! You did wasted time buying weird juices from weird brands for me .. " North Korea says with her hands full of juice cannets . she puts it in a bag ..
China gets mad , and North Korea adds : " Don ‘ t be mad at yourself , i forgive you " North Korea gives China a warm smile .. China gets madder .
" Besides i have my pho- " North Korea pulls out a phone though it does not work .. ☎ " WTF " China facepalms and wants to take her SMARTphone , but everything is in the train that left . China looks to see if a new train is coming but does not understand Korean and asks North Korea to read it but turns out the next train comes in 7 hours ..
They decide to look around for the public phone . North Korea is thirsty and drinks her juice but sadly it is an american juice .. Coca Cola .. North Korea feels her legs weaken and falls to her knees while coughing .. China turns around to help North Korea .
" Korea , what happened .. " China asks .
" It tastes like american shit " North Korea explains
" What did you expect from coke ? " China asks ..
" Hmm .. i can ’ t stand up .. NUKEY .. HELP ME ! .. I want nukey~ " North Korea screams ..
" Welcome , to the outside world best Korea " China sarcastically says ..
" Carry me ~ ! " North Korea insists .
" Who is nukey? " China asks .
" He is my nuclear boyfriend , a masterpiece .. he is so nice and strong ! Like me ! " China facepalms again and refuses ..
" Nukey would have done it ! " North Korea insists ..
" I am not nukey " China states the facts ..
" Carry me NEW Nukey ! "
" Fine fine ! " China surrenders and lets North Korea go on her back . So she carries North Korea still looking for the public phone , but suddenly North Korea gets bored and starts a dumb conversation ..
" Hey China , i have seen you struggling and fighting with Japan earlier , due to the sea .. "
" Yes , but - " China begins ..
But suddenly North Korea explains her " perspective " of it all .. in a fantastical way ..
[ In the fantasy ]
" Japan ! I shall defeat you and claim Princess Sea as my bride ! "
" How foolish of you ! A true knight shall beg for forgiveness , in the eyes of the Land of the rising sun ! "
" You b#### ! "
They both take their swords out .. but suddenly princess Sea interrupts .
" Stop it China , you don ’ t need to kill her ! "
" I would like to see her try though ! " Japan comments .
" FOR MY LOVE ! " China screams and well they start fighting anyways ..
Aftr the fight ..
" Hahahhahahahhahahahha ! " Japan laughs and well hugs takes princess sea in her arms .. China fell down and lost .. Unconcious on the feet of Japan ..
" And when you wake up you shall look , as i take your bride to be mine ! I shall even wear your armor ! "
[ Back in real life ]
China blushes at the stupid idea ..
" Stop it i do not need you to dramatize my life like some dark fantasy .. "
" No no keep going i want to hear how ends .. " South Korea arrives along with her bros and surronds them ..
" Thanks a LOT , Best Korea" .. China sarcastically adds ..
END
Authors note : ( This is stupid .. i was bored .. I am not crazy ! This is really cringeworthy , cuz i was bored )

Sequence 4: Cataclysmic Interrer
New Abilities

• Calamity Creation: Within an initial range of 1 kilometer(increases to 2 kilometers after potion digestion), Cataclysmic Interrers can manipulate the environment around them to create four of the most common but extremely destructive calamities.
  • Tsunami: Through the creation of a sudden vertical displacement of the ocean floor, they can call forth huge water waves to crash down at their targets, washing everything away in a powerful torrent.
    • The further away the vertical displacement is from a Cataclysmic Interrer and the more digested the potion is, the more powerful the Tsunami will be.
    • Cataclysmic Interrers can choose to split a Tsunami into smaller waves and have its effects cascade onto a larger region.
  • Hurricane: By quickly swirling air together in a spiral, a Cataclysmic Interrer can quickly form a tornado that cleans through anything it passes, leaving nothing left.
    • The strength of the Hurricane depends on the potion digestion of the Cataclysmic Interrer and the environmental factors(such as humidity, pressure level, etc.).
    • They can choose to control the direction of Hurricanes or let it spiral out of control randomly.
  • Earthquake: Suddenly moving a fault within the earth can allow a Cataclysmic Interrer to split the ground in 2 and cause the surface to shake, forming an Earthquake.
    • Cataclysmic Interrers can move faults within a short distance from the earth's outer surface, allowing them to crack the ground around their enemies and bury them in the rubble.
    • In certain cases(where the ground is close to a volcano or near a magma chamber), lava may erupt inside an Earthquake. If this spot is repeatedly being assaulted, a volcanic eruption may occur.
  • Torrential Rain: They can manipulate the surrounding clouds around them to cast down heavy rain across large swathes of area.
    • The sensory chaos created by Torrential Rain is by far the highest among all the disasters they can make, even being able to disturb a Demigod's Spiritual Intuition.
    • Lightning Rain: By sending out a Lightning Strike near the area where their Torrential Rain effects, it can branch out across the entire area, forming a Lightning Rain. This is a Lightning Calamity.

Strengthened Abilities

• Siren Song: The mystical attributes of their singing voice have been enhanced significantly, making each of their songs have an indescribable effect on the target's body and mystical connections.
  • Roar: By simply roaring out loud, their vocal cords can produce a shockwave that has enough energy to topple a ship.
• Lightning Strike: The power of their Lightning Strikes has been enhanced.
  • It can hit their target with more intensity and accuracy, instantly scorching them and Purifying them from most negative influences.
  • Cataclysmic Interrers can conjure up and shoot out up to 10 lightning arrows at a time in a matter of seconds.
• Water Manipulation: The range and versatility of spells that they can use in the storm and sea domain have increased as their range of control has reached 200 meters.
  • Whirlpool: They can create a massive Whirlpool that directly leads to the deeper parts of the ocean.
    • With further digestion, a Cataclysmic Interrer would be able to create a Whirlpool that directly leads down to the deep seafloor.
  • Sealing: Through the use of tidal waves(created either from Water Manipulation or Calamity Creation), they can Seal and weaken various targets.
    • Attempts to break out of the Seal through the Spirit World will prove challenging as any possible opening to the Spirit World will quickly be swallowed up by waves of water.
    • Spirituality will be constantly siphoned by the tidal waves, increasing the potency of the Seal while also lowering the resistance of the target(s) contained within.
• Phantom Scales (Scale Armor): They possess exaggerated illusory scale defenses, enough for them to be able to withstand multiple bolts of lightning without their defense breaking.
  • If their illusory scales were to break, it would take merely a day for their scales to fully recover(provided no interference has been done on their scales).

Mythical Creature Form

• As a Sequence 4 Beyonder they receive some level of Godhood, and with it comes an incomplete Mythical Creature Form. Disregarding any consequences, Cataclysmic Interrers can choose to reveal this form and become a 1-headed Kraken.
  • While manifesting this form enhances Cataclysmic Interrer's defense, strength, and ability to control lightning, water, and wind to a degree way beyond other Mythical Creature Forms, it would result in one of the highest increases in madness among all Sequence 4 Beyonders, making it very dangerous for a Cataclysmic Interrer to utilize as a trump card consistently.
  • Their incomplete Mythical Creature form looks like a 30-meter-tall Kraken. Their skin turns navy blue and is made of a material reminiscent of a whale while their head swells up significantly and transmutes itself into the head of a squid. The area from their forehead to the nose will form the squid's eye whose pupil contains the traits of storm, sea, and authority.
    • If those under Sequence 4 saw this form, they would suffer a strong backlash as their brains would quickly be overcome with fear and devotion. If they succumb to the influence, they will prostrate on the ground and beg for forgiveness, an act that will form a temporary Anchor that can stabilize the transformed Cataclysmic Interrer.

Sequence 3: Sea King
New Abilities

• Ruler of the Sea: By establishing their Dominion over a portion of the ocean waters, Sea Kings can become the ruler and spokesperson of the area they dominate, granting them an array of unique abilities and passive boons.
  • As for how they establish a Dominion, they have two methods.
    • Merely staying near the area they want to control, and over a month, having one's influence and authority entrench into the surrounding real and Spirit World until a Dominion is established.
    • Conquest, relocating believers into the area, and any other form of external influence that is related to them to quickly infect the surrounding area with their influence and quickly establish a Dominion.
  • While the aspects and boons of each Sea King's Dominion will be different due to the environment, 5 traits remain consistent throughout these areas.
    1. When fighting in the ocean, they can unleash their fullest potential and completely overwhelm all Beyonders at the same level.
    2. They can sense what happens in the waters they control, and scenes of the overall situation would appear in their mind.
    3. They can bestow their Beyonder abilities with the ability to cascade across realms within their Dominion.
    4. They can use the natural Spirituality within the air to manipulate the weather in a controlled way.
    5. They can communicate with, and drive many sea creatures at or below their level to do their bidding.
  • They are only able to create 1 Dominion at first.
    • This will increase to 3 upon full potion digestion.
  • At the start of their potion digestion, Sea Kings are only able to control a 121-km² squared plot of sea.
    • This will increase to a 423-km² area of the sea upon full potion digestion.
  • Sea Kings can disband their Dominions simply through a thought.

Strengthened Abilities

• Calamity Creation: Its range has increased to 10 kilometers. In addition, each Calamity possesses a unique effect compared to the others.
  • Tsunami: Through the use of cyclical tidal waves, they can gradually increase the sea level within the surrounding sea, allowing them to set off large Tsunamis wantonly, better Seal targets, and further establish a sense of dominance and superiority over the surrounding environment.
  • Hurricane: Hurricanes at their highest level can now completely impede certain forms of Teleportation as the winds move around at such a high rate that targets attempting to cross into a Hurricane will often find themselves further back from where they started.
  • Earthquake: Sea Kings can create sudden displacements so powerful that they completely shock and release a powerful Sonic Boom around the affected area, causing great damage and stunning those nearby.
  • Torrential Rain: The Torrential Rain they can create could spread their Spirituality, making each cloud and each drop of water become their eyes and ears.
    • Lightning Storm: They can generate Lightning Storms by bringing down silver-white swaths of lightning from the sky or from thin air that spread into "branches" creating a silver "forest" that can span hundreds of meters, bringing forth a destructive aura and a sense of destruction. This is the enhanced form of Lightning Rain.
• Lightning Manipulation: Derived from Lightning Strike, they can generate and manipulate massive amounts of electricity from the surrounding area. They no longer need the right weather conditions to generate lightning.
  • They can create balls of lightning that instantly scorch massive swathes of land and sea.
  • Through the use of Lightning Strikes, they can produce Thunderclaps that stun enemies
• Navigation: With their newfound knowledge of various places and their enhanced intuition, Sea Kings can Navigate across various environments.
  • Even if they were to be transported to a random place in the Spirit World, their newfound capabilities would allow them to effectively Navigate through it and return to their desired location.
• Physical Enhancement: Their strength, agility, and balancing capabilities have been enhanced significantly.
  • They possess the strength of powerful sea monsters.
  • They have an incomprehensible level of balance.
  • They can travel faster than the speed of sound.
• Aquatic Affinity: Even if they haven't established a Dominion, their affinity with the sea makes them akin to a "prince of the ocean".
  • They can freely walk on the seafloor without having to worry about sea pressure and other environmental restraints.
  • Even while not being within a Dominion they control, they can command a large amount of sea monsters to do their bidding.

Mythical Creature Form

• Their Mythical Creature Form develops further. They are now a 2-headed Kraken. Their skin cracks up and resembles the sea as their first head begins to sink into their body, entering deep within as water continues to rush forth from the pores of their now hidden head. The second head will seemingly float in the air as the air around them would create storms blocking their visage
  • Their first head represents the sea and their second head represents the storm.
    • An individual looking at the first head would begin to cough up seawater and continue to experience massive levels of sea sickness, eventually turning into an unknown sea creature in the process.
    • An individual looking at the second head will begin to heat up as their nerves begin to fry up and overheat from overstimulation. If this goes on for long enough, they will eventually die as their deceased corpse becomes a new hotbed for ocean phenomena.
  • As a Sequence 3 Beyonder, they can listen and respond to prayers within a certain range. Their range is relatively far-reaching compared to other Saints as a result of their Dominions.
    • They can use Siren Songs to cast revelations and their weather-manipulating abilities to bless their believers.

First/Previous
Satan was on the air, on the night, within everything in the long shadows cast by the setting sun and with him came a chill to the air that I could never hope to internalize; it might kill me.
From a rotted abode across the street, I watched the large outbuilding and the field in which we’d buried the hand and I found myself in prayer—among the torn and exposed studs of dry-rotted wood and rusted metal I caught my own whispers and forced myself to stop like I intended to convene with God right there in the dark; I wasn’t there for Allah. It was something else that compelled me there. I whispered the prayer and felt foolish at my own voice and ducked lowly among the rubble and held my breath to watch the sunlight go from the land and in a blink, the light was gone, and I was there in darkness that at first was a terror and then I slipped into it through blinks and the surroundings became clearer even in the dark.
Time went on.
I was exposed, but the yougins were safe—Trouble too. If nothing else mattered in the world, then they should go on without me. It had come to me so suddenly (maybe it was the prayer that withdrew such a sentimentality) that I liked them okay.
Before anything else, a cat’s hiss came so faintly that I plugged my ear with my pinky, shook it and listened again; the noise grew closer, and I could do nothing but watch the field and squint in the darkness and wait.
Fumbling, I counted the glass containers with touch only—two in my jacket pocket and the third by my feet—and my fingers then danced to the threadbare strap of the shotgun on my shoulder; I shed my pack for mobility.
The domineering creature lurched forcefully from the shadows and then went on display in the moonlight properly and its arched back protruded even over its own head till it lifted that muzzle, so its rattish face was cut out in a black outline; it was sniffing, and the hiss came through the air again. The Alukah kept a serpentine strut, smoothly gliding across the ground as it used its hands like forelegs to press its snout against the ground. In watching, I consciously relaxed my shoulders and refrained from biting my teeth together. That creature found the spot it had been searching for—it seemed roughly the place we’d buried the hand—and it took its claws there with bestial shovelfuls.
In a hurry, I gathered the jar I’d placed by my feet—it would not slide so gracefully into my jacket as the others—and as quietly as I could, I slinked around the rubble, through two studs, and onto the dirt. Within milliseconds, my own heartbeat pounded all over my body and I stood in the street and lit the Molotov cocktail with a lighter and took closer to the creature.
It shifted around and in that moment I wished I had a light source powerful enough to expose its body; I tossed the cocktail in a high arch and it exploded in a moment by the creature’s feet as it stood and pivoted to look at me fully; its solid white eyes were wide in a glance of moon-shine and it slung itself from the eruption of flames around its feet with violent speed. Its black hair hung down the sides of its face and its head parted midway to expose a snarl. It stalked in a circle around the concentration of flames, remaining mostly in the dark; the thing moved slowly nearer, those long arms swaying in front of itself with each step.
You should know better. It stopped midstride, coming no closer and we each stood there in the field roughly thirty feet from one another, and I refused to take my eyes from it. The boy’s mine. The flames began to flicker and die. For how long we stood like that, I couldn’t say, and I waited.
I couldn’t find a voice till it was all dark again, besides the moon and stars. “Why can’t you leave us be? There’s easier pickins.”
You offer yourself too much credit, Harlan. We remained in silence and in the darkness the creature may have been a statue—in a blink it seemed as much. You are a corpse, no? A walking corpse of a man! A terrible sickness is in you. I know it. I see it on you as plainly as I see your fear.
Rigidity took over my body and I puffed my chest out like it meant something and I shook my head, “I’m not afraid.”
Not of me, no. Of yourself? Something. The voice lingered with the ends of its words, drawing them out first guttural then it left them on hisses. Something I know.
I lit the next Molotov, and the creature didn’t move; I threw the bottle furiously and it went into the darkness like a far candleflame till it erupted in the spot the Alukah had been standing—the thing had leapt from there, leaving me unawares and I lowered myself to the ground in a crouch, swiveling my head around to catch the thing in the dark. The flames on the ground danced brightly, leaving me light-blinded.
Not again, said the thing, You will not catch me so easily with fire again. It was behind me, nearer the outbuilding and it took a moment through blinks for my eyesight to return well enough to see the grotesqueness of the misshapen massive humanoid thing.
The Molotov explosion burned then disappeared and we stood looking at one another again and I felt silly, foolish, radically unprepared, and overwhelmingly trivial in the grand scheme of the universe—if it wanted to, it could leap the distance between us and rip me to shreds. Why didn’t it kill me? Why wasn’t I dead?
That damnable night creature extended one of its massive forehands, flexing the digits on the end of its arm and whispered its words like a plea, The boy, Harlan. That is all. Take that brimstone smelly girl and carry that shell of a body—walk on to whatever hole you humans call home.
Hoping to not draw a movement from the creature, I pressed my forearm against my ribcage, feeling the last Molotov that was there in the inner pocket and I gently slid the strap from my shoulder, and held my shotgun in both hands, licking my dry lips, watching the dark frame of the Alukah, fearing even a moment of distraction; my eyes locked on the creature and I refused to speak.
No deal then. It wasn’t a question; its rattish snout offered a mild nod of understanding. You despise a good sense of words.
I readied the shotgun, legs spaced in proper formation—looking down the barrel, I held my breath and upon squeezing the trigger, the thing knocked into my shoulder, but the creature was gone. In scanning, I found the thing had moved from the field and bounded wildly across the street towards the dead ruins of Annapolis, its muscular limbs made short work of fleeing.
The outbuilding remained quiet and erectly tall, and I moved to its shadow and cussed whispers for wasting ammunition. Only three shells remained; worse, I’d wasted two of my explosives. I watched the horizon in the opposite direction of the crowded foundations of Annapolis and carefully held my breath in watching and I prayed again, hoping that the commotion would not draw attention.
An overwhelming sense of foolishness welled in my guts, and I trotted off towards the direction I’d watched the Alukah go, through the ramshackle streets haphazardly.
The darkness was maddeningly empty, so I filled it with shouts, “C’mon! This is your turf, ain’t it? This darkness is yours so come and take me if you can!” Rusty as I was, I held the shotgun like never before, squinting my eyes, keeping my pace in unison with my heartbeat. There’s a place in that darkness that is beyond reproach, beyond the comprehension of a city dweller, beyond even my own understanding and I found myself padding through those streets at an accelerated rate, hopeful to confront the demon and I only found more dead and vacant lots and I crossed more than two intersections where the signs were either gone or indecipherable in the black shadows cast there. I wished for a payback of the demon’s hunt or perhaps I wished for something even more than that—what did I need to prove and to who? “You sick and twisted and foul beast!” I went so loud I continued to hoarseness, “Slimy fuck!” I’s so mad that spit came with the words too.
Still, there was nothing and I came to a final crossroads, a place more commercial—at least for a flatland dead town—where brick storefronts half-stood on those four corners. Finding my voice again, I continued my tirade, cursing the demon, “Come get some—c’mon already! Here’s your fight?” I was scared though.
A sudden noise from the dilapidated storefront to my left startled me to pivot and watch, gun pulled up, and I focused as hard as I could on the recesses of that shadowed place; it was a large antiquated face where a window might have sat many years prior. Wet and hungry sounds emanated from that place, the disgusting noises of a fiend—even in knowing it, I was surprised in seeing the new creature spill out in a lumpish mess of slickened muscles, lubricated, its innumerable arms and legs clawed its own body forward so that it rolled like a mushy ball—each of those limbs remained human in nature. Upon the thing pulling itself onto the street, I staggered backwards, gun still raised, and watched its form take a modicum of understanding in the moonlight; its mouths—sporadically, illogically placed over its mass of a body—opened and seemed to try and speak with each one merely letting go of meekly audible, painful sighs in doing so. The eyes, spaced much the same as the mouths, blinked and rolled as if it was torture for the thing to live. The mutant was a tongue-like mass at its center, and it was almost the size of a horse—I’d seen fiends grow much larger, but this was still a great threat.
In moving away from where it spilled onto the street, I stumbled backwards and caught myself on the backfoot and clumsily spun into a sprint; my boots pounded in my flight from the thing, and it chased after.
Its mouths exhausted terrible sighs as it gained speed in the relative openness of the street and in seconds, I would not have been surprised if the thing snatched me by an ankle and devoured me without thought—not that fiends had any other thoughts above the basest urge to consume.
The pursuit kept me going in the dark, watching the still shadows of the dilapidated housing and I pushed on until I tasted copper; my breathing went raspy—it’d been so long since I’d been forced to run from such a creature in the open. I took a glance back and saw it coming, gaining speed in its perpetual roll; its body excreted some fluid across itself so that it could glide more easily.
Coming to a crossroads I’d passed earlier, or perhaps it was a new one—I couldn’t fathom in the dark—I took in the direction of what I thought was south and ran full throttle; my knees ached.
In hoping to confuse the mutant, I quickly dove towards the right side of the southbound street, towards some ramshackle, through the skeletal framing of a skinless house without a roof; I pushed through the pencil-narrow vertical beams and stumbled through, landing onto the unseen ground on the other side. My left leg spasmed and in the millisecond that it took for my nerves to register the pain, I let out a mild, “Oh.” I tried to lift myself from the spot and found that my left leg refused to bend straight; in total horror—more so from my body failing than the mutant—I swiveled my torso around and scooted on my rear across the ground, raking myself in the opposite direction of the fiend.
The mutant slammed into the frame; its many arms reached through the bars and in a moment, it began to use its hands to lift itself along the exposed wall and I scooted further away till my back met the bars of where an opposite wall would’ve gone. In a scramble, I snatched the shotgun, pushed myself sniff against the bars on my side and watched the thing down the barrel; I waited and concentrated on my own breathing. If nothing else worked, I still had that Molotov—if not for it then for me.
As it crested the top of the wall made of bars, I watched patiently and only when I was certain I fired.
The mutant, the great meatball-thing that it was, lost its grasp for a moment and slipped onto the arrangement of vertical bars; I gush of liquid, illuminated in starlight, shot from its base of its soft body; it began to try and catch its grasp on the bars and I took a moment for myself to examine my left knee—I pulled it as close to my face as I could manage which was hardly at all—some black triangular mass had lodged itself into my flesh; more accurately, I’d slammed myself onto something sharp in my panic to flee the fiend. In a second, not thinking of the repercussions, I gripped the thing with my left hand and clamped my mouth onto my right hand, biting into fat of my hand by the thumb. The debris was free from my leg, and I let it to fall to the ground; blood ran freely into my mouth and I let go of the bite and tentatively lifted the gun again, ignoring the pain; the creature continued to struggle, and I fired again. It slipped again, further impaling itself on the bars.
I had one shell left.
Using the place I’d propped my back, I pushed free from the ground and put all my weight onto my right leg, testing the left; I staggered—hopped really—around in the small square of ground surrounded by metal framing and searched the ground for something long. I unearthed the dirt around my feet and found a long piece of metal rod; setting the gun to the side, I lifted the metal rod over my head and then slowly arched it out from my body. It would give me just enough room to further injure the thing while also staying well out of its grasp.
I swung the makeshift weapon down like a bat or a sword and the fiend slid a little further down the bars, the exit wounds began to show across the top of its roundish body, and I smacked it again—its mouths spoke words that could nearly be understood. Though it took only moments, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time the creature had reached the ground again, good and dead and impaled upon six of those vertical bars. I tossed the weapon to the ground, lifted my gun, and shimmied through the bars on the opposite side of the square.
Adrenaline only lasts so long, and my left leg throbbed to the point of nausea; I did not want to inspect the wound, but on rounding the ramshackle and watching the still dead thing, I stumbled into the street and knelt and lifted my pant leg. It was dark and bloody and already it was burning. Infection was my first thought. A puncture wound could spell a terrible fate. I shifted to sit in the street. My leg didn’t bend right.
The cat’s hiss came from the darkness and there wasn’t a way I could respond in time; I felt those long nasty fingers grab me by the back of my neck and I was lifted immediately from the ground—the gun clattered to the ground and all I could do was initially freeze and stiffen and then my hands moved to the grasp which held me firmly by the throat; those massive knuckles were like stones.
The Alukah had me and situated me so that it could look into my face, its long black hair hid its eyes but I could smell its breath and see its teeth which rested in its round mouth. I could snap you. It seemed to nod its head, but to detect humanity in that damnable pale face was a mistake.
I choked.
What’s that? It relaxed its grasp on my throat.
“Do it.”
Why’re you crying? Its foot brushed against the gun at its feet, and it lifted it with its free hand, and it commented casually, Little human toy.
It moved, holding me by the throat, dragging me along the ground in an abnormal sluggish gait. It was hard to see anything but the night sky, anything but the strange angle of the demon—with its grip, it was hard to breathe, and tears indeed welled in my eyes, and I held to its forearm to distribute some of the weight of my own body away from my neck. With its tugging, I could not speak, but it spoke.
I’ll squeeze you dry, but your blood’s too tainted to drink. That won’t make it any less interesting. I’ll twist you like a rag and see which hole it comes from first. More than that, you’ll scream. You’ll scream so loud everyone will know. Everyone will know what I’ve done to you—once you’re no more than ruin. Not even Mephisto would balk at my handiwork once I’ve had my time with you. God will look on your sour corpse with so much disgust there won’t be a place for you anywhere. Only Oblivion, a place worse than any.
The creature moved us to the open field, tilted its head back and forth, rose its rattish face to the sky and snorted and then clearly sniffed, dropping the gun to its feet to brush the long black hair from its eyes; its muscular body shone in the moonlight so that even its bluish veins stood plainly from its white skin. It shifted its gaze to the outbuilding—maybe fifty yards away—where the youngins were hidden.
Deftly, the thing lifted me from where it had kept me by its side and my feet levitated over the air, I felt feet taller, suspended from that long arm the way I was. It took its free hand to my midsection and I felt the digits of its hand squeeze my ribs and it let go of my throat and I coughed and wheezed, placing my hands on its fingers to dig into that thing’s skin—it didn’t matter—in seconds, a scream escaped my rattling throat; it squeezed more and I felt the glass bottle in my jacket burst from the force then the Alukah gave relief and I tried to gulp air, but felt pangs along my body. My jacket was wetted from blood by the broken bottle shards entering my body or from the contents of the bottle or both.
Urine? It pulled me close to itself, sniffed, and shook its head. Oil? it cackled, Again! Beg for the help you do not deserve! It held me outright once more.
Again, the great hand constricted me and again I could not help but to let out a scream—my lungs were on fire, my voice stretched like a dying animal. I heard barks and saw nothing through wild choking tears. The grip softened.
I coughed more and tried to speak; the Alukah brought me close to itself as if to wait and listen to what I had to say. Weeping words fell out in a whisper, “Kill me. Do it. I don’t mind.”
Another sharp laugh exited the thing’s throat and it squeezed again, facing me out so that I could look at the black outline of the outbuilding. I heard the barking again and I saw the figures stumble out from the sidelong face of the outbuilding. I blinked to remove the tears.
A voice, neither mine nor the demon’s, shouted an attempt at authority, “Let him go!” It was Gemma. They rounded the building so that moonlight removed them from obscurity. Gemma held Trouble on a lead while Andrew followed.
Trouble growled.
The smile was audible through the Alukah’s voice, Strong words for one so dainty. I felt its grip tighten and I chuffed and couldn’t manage a word.
“Get it!” shouted Gemma; she let go of Trouble’s lead and the dog looked curiously at me and the demon where we were and tucked its tail and circled to hide behind the children.
The Alukah laughed. Scary dog.
I was lightheaded while my vision went; I should die—I’d bleed out there or some unknown medical oddity would shut me off. Perhaps I’d will myself to death. My head nodded tiredly, and I fought it, blinking, shaking my head to maintain my eyes.
“You want me?” The boy took a few steps forward and his voice cracked. “We could make a deal.”
The Alukah lowered me so that my feet skimmed the ground but shifted to keep a tight hold around only my throat. Oh?
“What are you doing?” shouted Gemma; she closed the space between herself and Andrew and shoved him.
He shoved her back. “Me for him,” he addressed the demon.
Is that the deal?
Everything in my body protested while I reached for the jean pocket on my right side; I could not reach it. I stretched and my ribs screamed in pain—it was worse than bruising. The demon did not notice me moving. Maybe because my movements were weak, subtle. I tried again while mentally asking God for help and I came short of the pocket. I cursed Him and then my shaking fingers found the pocket. I withdrew the lighter there.
“That’s right,” said Andrew.
“No, he won’t,” Gemma’s voice was aflame.
It’s not your deal to make, girly.
I took the lighter to my jacket, lit it, and the flames grew around me in a flash, feeding on the oil.
The Alukah hissed, attempted to unwrap its hand from around me while I dug into its forearm with two claws and bit onto the thing’s hand for extra purchase. It swung me around and my legs flew limply. It took every bit of strength I had.
Let go! The Alukah shrieked.
Trouble barked, the children screamed, and I bit deeper till that thick black blood filled my mouth. The flames were immaculate, cleansing, more furious than I could’ve imagined. Not for life—that’s not why I held on so strongly—it was for them, for Andrew and Gemma. Me and that creature should’ve burned together. Fitting.
Delirium took over and I swiveled overhead in the demon’s tantrum, holding onto that arm. The Alukah hissed, roared, shouted nasty epithets.
The gunshot rang out and I met ground, hard.
Exhaustion or death could’ve taken me then, but it was the former.
When consciousness came again, it was hands, smacking hands that brought me to life—then the vague smell of burnt hair, cooked flesh. My body stung and I could not move but to lift my face from the dirt where I lay belly-flat.
“You almost died,” said Gemma somewhere between hope and sorrow, “You almost killed yourself!” She shook me and shoved me hard enough so that I rolled on my back. She’d been crying, but surely, we’d won. What was there to cry for? If we’d lost, she wouldn’t be talking at all.
She left me and I stared at the sky through slits. The sun was coming but I couldn’t feel the warmth; I couldn’t feel anything (that would be a sweet memory in the time to come). It was quiet save the crackling I heard; it was like the lowness of a dying fire. It wasn’t me? I wasn’t on fire?
When she returned, she lifted my head to place my pack underneath it; it elevated my vision. I surveyed my surroundings. The outbuilding was there and the Alukah lay on the ground perhaps ten feet from me; its body charred and sizzled and caught little flames in response to the cresting sunrise; everything was a daze—we’d won.
Gemma’s eyes glittered, and she called the dog over and the dog sniffed my face and the girl’s lips remained flat, expressionless.
I saw the boy’s body—it lay motionless alongside the dead Alukah and alongside that body was my shotgun. The body’s head sat on its side, disconnected from its owner, facing away from where I lay.
“He killed it. He shot it.” Gemma sat beside me, and Trouble placed her snout on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re going to die,” she nodded.
First/Previous
Archive

Last night my university appeared on the news.
As I watched the broadcast, listening to my old television set sputter and cough like a used car engine, I swore the temperature plummeted several degrees. The newscaster was still droning on in the background but it could’ve just been static. Meaningless.
It is always the same with this news broadcast. Burned and charred stone and concrete lying around in a pentagon in a way that could make any abstract artist proud. I try, whenever it comes up, to ignore everything scrolling on the screen. Or at the very least, skim through the programme. The less details I remember, the better.
But every time, my eyes are drawn to one tiny thing on the screen. It stands out screaming, a splash of red in an ocean of black. I can’t forget it no matter how hard I try, and it slips into my nightmares and I wake up screaming.
A rune of a blood-stained sword, inked in red and carved neatly in the stone.
“This is our pride and joy,” he nodded, gesturing to a rune of a blood-stained sword. His sunflower name badge read James and he was cute. Tousled hair, playful freckles–the works.
I swear girls swooned when they saw him.
The year was 2004 and I wished fighting over James was the least of our problems. Even now, during orientation week, a great hush fell over our little tour group. Everyone shifted their feet nervously and tied their fingers into knots.
James laughed.
“The stories about Helena Sword? That’s just it. Stories.”
“All the stuff you heard about her before you came here, they’re simply not true. Just something stupid to scare the freshies, that’s all.”
He trailed off in the middle of his speech, staring off into the distance.
“It’s been a thousand years after all…”
He laughed again, but it was as empty as the wind blowing down the halls. He cracked a smile, but his face was pale like the rest of us.
“Anyway,” he said, “the library is just down this hallway too. When our founder, Sir Gallus, founded this place, he sought out books from all over the world…”
As the rest of the tour moved on, I couldn’t help but stay behind. I was no archeologist, but there was something about this rune that would not let me go. I stroked the rune, fascinated by how my fingers crossed tall ridges and tiny valleys. It was very simply carved, almost like a child’s drawing of a sword brought to life, but as I turned to catch up with everyone else, I realised I wasn’t alone.
She was pretty, a girl around my height and build, with striking red curls and a rather long neck, almost like a giraffe. A tattoo poked out behind long blue sleeves, dressed in red ink. The girl turned to me and grinned sheepishly.
“Are you lost?”
I frowned. “Sorry?”
“The tour group moved on without you,” she stated, pointing ahead. Indeed I could hear James’ voice in the distance, rambling on about the portraits in the halls. I looked back at her and she nodded grimly.
“My name is Ginny,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it. It was as cold as ice. In fact, when I looked at her, it was like gazing at an ice sculpture, with frosty eyes and dainty lips.
“It’s my first day here too. Except well…my parents brought me here yesterday. So I know this school inside out. Do you want me to show you around? You don’t need that tour group. Especially since they well…abandoned you.”
My head was suddenly foggy. “Yes, please,” I mumbled.
In spite of her offer, Ginny didn’t say much as we walked through the campus. Didn’t point out anything interesting landmarks or anything like that; didn’t talk much about herself either. Instead we wandered through the grounds, enjoying each other’s company. It was the beginning of autumn, and golden leaves were falling down and the trees looked like they were on fire. Overhead we could hear migrating birds singing. It was lovely.
Eventually we reached my dorm.
And hers.
Ginny was my roommate. I found it strange, since I didn’t recall having a roommate or asking for one; and even if I did, wouldn’t I be informed of it months ago? Someone that I would share my life with for the next three years? But then she looked at me and smiled and all my questions flew out of my head. I mumbled a yes to her offer of assistance and we spent the rest of the afternoon making our dorm look like home.
Then we went down for dinner and were joined in the mess hall by two other girls, Ivy and Cleo, who told us their room would be next door to us. We sat down with our mashed potatoes and roast chicken and they immediately drummed up conversation, talking about their lives before they came to university, what they hoped to achieve during their time here, and everything in between.
“So what are you guys studying?” Ivy asked.
“Psychology,” I said. Helping people has always been a lifelong dream.
“Computer Science,” Ivy and Cleo said at the same time.
We all looked at Ginny. She stared back, completely taken aback by the question.
“Um,” she said, “Computer Science too, I suppose. That’s getting popular, right?”
“Yup,” Ivy mumbled, her head bowed over her mashed potatoes like a broken flower. “Everyone is fighting to get their slice of the Internet these days…”
We continued our meal in silence, the conversation suddenly over. We walked up together, too, and it felt strangely uncomfortable. A dark cloth had fallen over our little group, leaving behind an itch we could never scratch.
Finally we reached our dorms and we looked at each other.
“Well, good night then,” Ivy said. Cleo was already inside and I could hear her brushing her teeth.
“See you at breakfast.”
“Good night,” I said. Ivy nodded and closed the door.
Ginny was already in her bunk, her nose in a book. There was already a stack next to her, as tall as a mountain, and by the glare in her eyes, passionate and intense as fire, it looked like she was going to be reading all night.
“Don't classes start next week?” I asked with a frown.
“Yeah,” Ginny said distractedly. Her eyes were glued to the pages and she was flipping through them so fast her hands were a blur. “Just wanted to get started so I’ll be well-prepared, that’s all.”
She peered down at me, her icy blue eyes fixated on my muddy brown ones. “Go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, and soon I slipped away from the real world for a world of restless dreams.
For some reason, I woke up in the middle of the night.
I got my torch from under the bed and checked the time on my alarm clock. 4am.
Great.
I lay down on my pillow with my eyes open. I strained my ears, listening out for the sounds of nature. Back home there were birds that sang no matter what time it was, porcupines and rats scavenging around our trash, and crickets that performed symphonies that lulled me into slumber.
But out here there was nothing.
Great.
I couldn’t even hear my roomie. I didn’t really peg Ginny as the type who snored, but her bunk felt…empty. I peered upwards and couldn’t make out her shapeless form huddled beneath her blankets. Books were strewn all over her bunk, their pages wide open like the wings of lost paper birds.
I yawned and squeezed my eyes shut. It was too early to do anything and as Ginny said, we had a lot of things to do tomorrow.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Or rather, that of a clawed hand scraping down someone’s flesh, their hooked nails peeling off their skin in strips.
I groaned and smashed my pillow against my ears, but even my fluffy shield did nothing to muffle the loud screeches that rattled from my ears down my spine and to my toes.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I wobbled out of bed, clutching the bed frame as the world spun in front of my eyes. I breathed deep as another eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh screamed in my eardrums, making my hair stand on end.
Then I heard someone scream.
Was that Ginny? An image tore through my mind of my roommate in the corner, slowly strangled by rusty iron chains that curled around her body like venomous snakes. I know I shouldn’t open the door–it is a critical mistake made by so many horror movie heroines–but the thought of Ginny, alone, made my heart shiver.
So I yanked open the door.
There was Ginny, frozen like a popsicle stick. The shadows gathered and morphed into a hooded figure that blanketed her bodice.
Something—someone—slithered towards her, dragging behind a long blade. Eeeeeeeeeeeh
Ginny opened her mouth. Was she screaming?
But no, the silhouette brushed up against her skin and whooshed right past her, disappearing into the dorms. Ginny looked over, saw me screaming, then ran over and knocked me back in the room, locking the door shut.
“Are you okay?” she asked urgently.
I nodded a yes. Everything I felt at that moment couldn’t be put into words. It was dammed somewhere in the back of my throat, fighting to get out.
But I just couldn’t.
“What did you see?”
Nothing. Just nothing. My mind was blank. Everything was a hazy mess zooming around through my neural pathways. I sat down and rubbed my head. The room was spinning out of focus.
I needed to sleep.
“Yeah, sleep tight,” Ginny said kindly, pushing my blanket up to my neck. I curled up like a cooked prawn and breathed in deep. It smelled like home.
“Good night, Ginny,” I mumbled.
“Good night.”
We woke up to a sea of noisy chatter. It sounded like a thousand parrots squawking at the same time.
Eyes closed, mine still hazy, I stretched—and immediately bumped my head against the wooden frame.
Ow.
People were talking—no, shouting. It rang in my ears like a bloodcurdling scream. I groaned and attempted to muffle it with my pillow above my ears. Why do people have to be so goddamn loud?
Finally I gave up and sat up straight, forcing my crusty eyes open. Ginny was already gone, and her nightgown was draped across the top bunk like a country flag. The door was creaking in the wind. It slammed against the wall and came back strong.
Ow
Ginny came back. Without a word she took me by the arm and dragged me out of the room. There was a crowd mulling outside Ivy and Cleo’s dorm and as we passed I could hear snippets of their conversation:
“Dead…”
Ginny marched past them and took me down the stairs and to the mess hall, her eyes staring straight ahead like the world had vanished around her. Then she sat me down on one of the benches, took a sip of water and stared at me, her face white and shaking.
“WHAT?”
Even in the foggy haze of sleep, the bizarreness of the morning and the crowds outside the dorms were getting to me. All I had was questions, and I hated having so many questions.
For the first time since I met her, Ginny’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “So uh, you know the guy leading you around yesterday? When we first met?”
The description scratched my memory, and then I remembered. Tall and lanky, with tousled brown hair, freckles and a charming smile. He had a sunflower lanyard pinned on a checkered shirt–and that badge contained a name.
“James?”
“He…”. Ginny took a deep breath.
“He is dead. They found his body this morning.”
Ginny was still talking but I was barely listening. I only met this boy yesterday but it felt like I knew him forever. I felt like I was being pulled under, my reality torn asunder, everything that I know just…shattering around me.
Dead?
My throat was dry. Closing up. I sounded like a strangled cat.
“Yes,” Ginny confirmed dryly.
I looked at the two empty seats opposite me and that momental wave of dizziness turned into nausea.
“Bathroom,” I said.
Ginny watched me go, unblinking.
I rushed to the first unlocked toilet I found, ignoring the glares of girls already in queue. I gagged and watched my dinner and what little of my breakfast I had eaten swirl down the bowl. Then I flushed and staggered out. Everything was lit up way too bright; the chattering of students heading to their classes was way too loud; and I sat down in the corridor and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure how long I was out, because the next thing I knew someone was shaking me awake and helping me on my feet
“Come on,” Ivy said.
Her voice was brittle, her face pale. She was as fragile as stained glass, and she could barely walk herself. We limped together, nearly tripping over each other as we went up the stairs, until we collapsed, tangled between each other in a rope of legs.
That was when I felt something sharp brush across my cheek, drawing blood.
I looked up to see a hooded figure standing above us, wearing black gloves and a cloak made out of human skin. Her eyes were glowing crimson as she raised the sword. Rust gleamed at its sides like dew.
The sword slammed down, nearly missing Ivy’s leg.
We looked at each other, barely breathing, barely a word said between us. Then as if on command we got up and hightailed it back to our dorms. Through the shadows as we ran I could see a girl my age watching.
Her red curls shone in the dark like fire.
Ivy slammed the door behind us and shoved chairs up the edge to boot. I wasn’t sure it could hold a sword slicing through a wooden door but it would have to do.
Ivy sat on the bed and closed her eyes, whispering prayers in her native language. I didn’t feel like talking either
Author's Notes
If I remember correctly, this one is about a student who haunts the university 300ish years after her death. She is a witch, immortal and summoned by touching ruins. Her main weapon is the titular sword and instead of wielding it herself she hypnotises other students to kill for her.
The next scene is Cleo framed for killing James, the first sinister look at her powers of hypnosis.
The ending reveals that Ginny (taken from Ginerva, a romanized version of Queen Guinevre, yes me and JK Rowling had the same line of thinking) and Helena Sword is the same person and hypnotising all the other students. She dies when the narrator burns the school to the ground accidentally while trying to get away, ending the curse and resulting in the ruins at the start of the flashback.

I'm serious. I started smoking when I was 13. I'm now 38 and I don't even know what kind of "normal" my brain is capable of, since I've never been a functional adult without nicotine. It's quite scary when I think about it.
But. I quit in February, relapsed for a while in April (my job kinda got the most insane it ever was), and am now on attempt no. 2 - currently 9 days. It feels both easy and hard. Some things I noticed (both times...) -

• Irritability was horrid the first two days, but then pretty much went away.
  
• I am so tired. So, so tired. Like take three naps a day and still be tired, tired. Also unable to sleep through the night. Clinging to the thought that it's gonna get better someday (can it please be that day already?!).
  
• Not coughing at all, but I'm beginning to wonder how much of my hay fever is actually withdrawal symptoms. Who knows.
  

Genuinely: I'm not a very strong person, willpower is not a thing I possess and I can assure you that each and every person here probably has better odds of making it than I do. But even I am not going to smoke today, so - you can probably resist it too.
Just leaving this here for some extra motivation on the days I need it (because I probably will need it).

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Star Crossed [Multiple Free Sample Chapters] Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore
Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2160
With boot camp completed, I was free to leave the base in my off-duty hours. My plan for the rest day was to wander the city with Gress, who was eager to see Lecca and Juvre after weeks separated. His daughter had loved the idea of staying on “the human planet,” so we were heading to a hotel room where his ex-wife had planned a faceless handoff. The Krev hadn’t let me out of his sight since my abduction, because we’d yet to receive any leads on Mafani’s hideout. Where could that former black ops prick even be hiding, and why couldn’t Gress’ contact locate him? My exchange partner was worried the Resket would come back for me, and honestly, I shared those fears. I was jumpy and worried about going anywhere nobody had eyes on me.
It was a waiting game to see my persecutors get their comeuppance, and my patience was waning. General Radai was meticulous with his planning, instead of pressing our advantage before they’d have a chance to send another round of ships into our space. On the subject of lingering fears, when an armada twenty-thousand-strong burst in Tellus’ space, it had brought back memories of how the exterminator fleet had come to Earth. The greatest insult was that the bastards had figured out drones, most likely from studying my own species, so they weren’t pushovers we could use psychological warfare against anymore. Despite the advancements, the Consortium vanquished them; my faith was restored.
It’s cause for celebration. The scales—pun intended—are tipped in our favor. Now, it’s just a matter of waiting for the threefold decapitation strike to make the month-long journey; fighting a war across great distances will require patience. Persistence, some might say.
We hadn’t found too many hints in the wreckage, as the drone parts began to disintegrate almost as soon as their seams were undone. In my mind, there was no doubt they’d used our technology to some extent. Why worry about feckless crews when computers could do their dirty work? What we knew for certain was that their trails led back toward the Federation’s border, which left me wondering if our first strike didn’t need to include the Sivkits. This all started with their arrival, so they must be at the root of this conflict. Whatever General Radai might’ve thought, this proved that destroying their fleet was the right decision—who knew what kind of intel they might’ve gotten, if we spoke to them or allowed them any closer to our new home?
As much as I loved spending time with my Krev friend, perhaps the only person I’d ever felt close to, my heart was right in the thick of the war. No day wandering Tellus with Lecca could have a guarantee of safety, not until we convinced those Feddie bastards not to come knocking on our doors.
“I heard Quana was going on a tour of the caverns. She wanted to see how you lived; told Cherise it was insightful to witness a species’ conditions with your own eyes,” Gress said, as we ascended in the hotel elevator.
I tilted my head. “You two talked, voluntarily? Quana’s been less hostile since she was given the clearance to take Mafani out, but…”
“I overheard her talking with Cherise. Your Jaslip friend was interested in seeing the vault of your keepsakes from Earth. My guess is she likes the idea of making one for Esquo.”
“Jaslips had time to safeguard their artifacts, and plan the transition. I’m not sure what they’d need a vault for; they have more than fucking pictures and empty memories.”
The Krev looked at me with sad eyes, as the doors opened. “If we win this war, or are able to stop by Sol, maybe we could save a few artifacts. There has to be something, even if it’s at the bottom of the ocean, that we can save. I want to help, Taylor; my heart breaks for you and your people.”
“I know. I’m just fucked up, and I don’t know what I believe, other than that I don’t deserve you. Our history is me turning on you, doubting you, assaulting you.”
“You gave me a chance to get it right, like I couldn’t all those years ago. I’m going to save you as many times as it takes, even if it’s from yourself. You can’t push me away, or hide how you really feel.”
“How do I really feel, Gress?”
“I, um…you turned on me because you trusted me and were willing to be vulnerable. Because you care…we care deeply about each other. You express pain by blowing up, so you don’t have to admit it to yourself.”
“It’s not blowing up. I want to do something with my feelings.”
“There are other ways.”
That’s a nice statement from Captain Obvious, though he made it sound quite cryptic. Is there something more he’s not saying?
Gress steered me down the hallway, as I continued on in silence. We unlocked the door to Lecca’s room, and my leg was immediately latched onto by the little Krev. Her claws tore the fabric of my jeans, which caused her father to wince. The kid didn’t notice at all, instead bouncing up and down with excitement. Juvre crawled back into his cage, and began shaking it from the inside; of course the obor was acting possessed at the mere sight of me. He was basically a Fed. If it hadn’t been for how distraught Gress told me he was putting his first obor down, I’d suggest he give this primate some night-night syrup. There were better pets out there.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Lecca finally released me, diving on top of her father’s tail. Who made her so hyper? “Tell me something cute about the humans.”
Gress cast a sly glance at me. “Let’s see. Their celebrities walked down red carpets at big events, and pranced right on down the ‘fancy’ color strip.”
“I wanna see! If I make one for Taylor, can he walk down it? He has to show me!”
“Taylor would love to, wouldn’t he?”
“Absolutely not,” I protested. “What next, do I have to get petted by you?”
“You don’t have to, but…I figured out a way that humans will pay me to pet them. I hear you like massages: if I ran a massage parlor on Tellus, work would just be petting humans for hours. Might go for it after the war.”
“You can’t be serious, Gress.”
“That sounds like a great job, Daddy!” Lecca cheered. “That’s what I wanna do. I can’t believe we used to be scared of them; they’re so squishy, and adorable.”
“Yeah, I think I’m done with that conversation. Call me back when you figure out where Lecca wants to go. I’ll occupy myself snooping through your things.”
Juvre poked his head out of the cage as I ambled away, baring his teeth while on all fours. I found myself imagining the obor painted in clown makeup; perhaps I could persuade Gress’ daughter to do that to him, not knowing the true meaning. I rolled my hands into fists, faked a sad expression, then flapped them around near my eyes in mock crying. The primate made the motions of lunging at me, and I leapt away with a hint of fright. My friend’s worthless pet settled back on his haunches, and snickered in his shrieking register.
Demon. Diabolical little shit; I’m gonna rattle his cage in the middle of the night, right when he’s sleeping.
I took a closer look around the hotel, checking out the accommodations that visitors to Tellus would have; we had more guests on our world than ark settlers. The obor backpack Gress mentioned was sitting out on the couch, revealing a popup book about us for kids. I tugged the print media out, but was too lazy to get a visual translator to read the simplistic words. One picture showed a human kid playing on a swing set, and the child appeared on the next slide wearing a triangular hat and blowing out birthday candles. I turned the page, finding images of jump rope and hopscotch.
My hands slammed the book shut, feeling a bit deflated. We’d never done those kinds of things when I was a child in the caverns; our circumstances robbed me of almost every fun experience I could’ve had. I supposed this hardcover was about how human kids played, so that sated my curiosity. Perhaps it would’ve been better if I hadn’t been reminded about certain parts of our culture that I missed out on. Then again, it was never too late to start playing around and having fun, right? Something on the floor caught my eye; I reached my hand beneath the couch, pulling out some kind of puzzle cube.
“Well, what do we have here?” I picked up a four-sided figure with a few movable L-shapes fitted on the outside. Noticing a faint aroma, I brought it to my nose; it smelled fruity, and I wondered if this was some inverse, puzzle version of a Ring Pop. I shook it, feeling and hearing something inside. “Gotcha. Let’s see how to get this open…it’s like a Rubik’s Cube with an actual incentive.”
I rotated the L pieces enough to free one side, working to shift the square underneath into an upper layer. Getting parts of the cube to flip into an outer shell was easy, but the gaps were only big enough to jam my pinky into; it made a bit of a lattice pattern. I tried attacking it from two sides, freeing part of each surface—the contraption still defied me. Growling in frustration, I placed it between my feet and tried to tug it open. The commotion drew Gress and Lecca over to see what I was up to, and my Krev friend immediately morphed into a melty face. He caught himself, eyes shifting back and forth in a conflicted dance.
Stupid thing. I can’t get it open. This is a time waster: you’d have to be Einsteinian to solve it.
“Um, Taylor?” Gress ventured. “I…it’s natural and totally okay, of course, if you would share interests with other primates, but, well…that’s one of Juvre’s toys.”
I threw the cube away like a hot potato, bringing about a collision with the obor’s cage. “It just looked fun. Like a Rubik’s Cube, but it’s not solvable. Shit, I didn’t know. Only Juvre would be stupid enough to keep working on this; it’s a hamster wheel, man.”
The red-furred obor chittered, picking up the unsolvable puzzle. Juvre began unscrewing the pieces, moving certain blocks upward in various intervals. The primate seemed to be making tangible progress on it, and tinkered with it in silent focus. He screeched happily as he made an incision wide enough to squeeze his hand through. The monkey-like creature waved a red, powdery substance in the air, likely the source of the sugary scent; Gress called out, “Good obor!” There was a triumphant glint in the animal’s binocular eyes, as I gestured to him in indignant outrage; he popped the cookie in his mouth, crunching it in his molars.
“That’s not fair!” I shouted. “The bastard critter cheated. How come Juvre could get it open like nothing? He knows some trick, or gimmick you trained him in. He’s mocking me, chomping away at his treat like he earned it. Circus animal. Food thief gremlin!”
“I…uhhh...” Gress seemed at a loss for words; his tongue hung out of his mouth, twitching. “I can give you an obor treat too?”
“What? I don’t want pet food. Who knows what Krev put in that: you guys eat literal rocks.”
“Because we don’t have teeth. This would be perfectly edible, if that’s what you worried about. I don’t want you feeling, um, left out. There’s enough to go around, and it’s not a competition.”
“If it’s a competition, Juvre would’ve won,” Lecca said unhelpfully.
I scowled at the child. “Did your father teach you to lie? I did most of the hard work for the damn obor. He took what I already did.”
“Which is what exactly?”
“You little—”
Gress retrieved a treat bag from the kitchen, jingling it at me. “Will one of these make you stop arguing with my daughter?”
Juvre curled his lips upward, taunting me as he scooped crumbs off the floor.
“Fine. Give me one, just so that no-good obor can watch me eat it. Show him his place,” I huffed.
Gress’ eyes lit up, though he quickly attempted to mask his happiness. The Krev placed one of the cookies in my palm, and I held it up with suspicion. Maybe I should’ve asked if they’d crushed any dried insects in with the fruit paste, since I knew that was what they fed Juvre quite often. However, not wanting the pet to relish his feeling of superiority, I popped the treat into my mouth while staring right at him. My immediate instinct was to brace myself for a retching sensation, trying to hide my disgust. However, I wasn’t expecting it to taste fucking amazing. It was lighter than flour, singing with the juicy flavors of fruit snacks, then full of sodium in the center, reminding me of salted caramel.
“Shit,” I managed through a mouthful of food, raising my eyebrows at the Krev. “That’s…actually pretty good.”
Lecca stomped her foot, pouting. “Why don’t I get to give Taylor a treat, Daddy? You have all the fun!”
“Well…you can if he wants more, I guess. Just don’t throw it on the floor; hand it to him,” Gress ordered.
I searched for a glass of water, before holding out my palm. “If you want something to hand out at Halloween, this would definitely do. Maybe keep what they are on the down low.”
The Krev kid pranced over to me, carrying the bag. “So you want one?”
“Unfortunately for my little remaining self-respect, yes.”
“Okay then. Taylor, sit!”
I gaped at her. “The fuck did you just say?”
Gress wagged a scolding claw. “Lecca! How would you feel, being given commands like an animal?”
“I get told, ‘do your homework,’ take a bath,’ ‘go to bed’ as my whole life. At least he’ll get something for listening.”
“It’s not acceptable to treat my friend—a sapient being who I care about and respect very much—like Juvre.”
“You don’t care about or respect Juvre?”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m saying Taylor is capable of understanding much more than sit—as are you. Juvre couldn’t understand the concept of ‘do your homework,’ no matter the training he gets. Taylor can. It’s demeaning to the humans, and not how you treat someone as an equal, a friend.”
“I just wanna take care of them and be nice. I know he can talk, but look at him!”
“Lecca, what if there was someone out there who thought the same about Krev? Is it fair to disregard everything else about them?” Gress looked flustered, but walked over to me, placing a paw on my shoulder. “To another set of species, Taylor is a terrifying monster. He lost everyone he had in this universe, because they didn’t care about who he was—only what he was. How we treat people shouldn’t—must not be—based on how they look to us.”
I lowered my head. “Your father is right. I’m a primate, but I don’t want to be some caged animal that does tricks. I was that back in the cavern, going up to follow someone else’s commands. It hurt a part of my soul. Please don’t think of me as a pet. That’s not being nice.”
Lecca sighed, before setting the treat bag down. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna hurt you, Taylor. Is it…mean that I think you’re reeeeeeally adorable?”
“No. It’s a welcome change after being treated like a monster that didn’t deserve to live, and having people cower at the mere sight of us.”
“Those aliens’ eyes are broken! I just wanted to see what you looked like sitting down, or rolling over.”
“You could’ve asked. I don’t need a treat. It’s enough to make you happy, as long as you don’t treat me like some object to gawk at.”
“Okay. Could you please sit on the floor? I like watching humans just walk around and do simple stuff, so it’d be cool…and I think everything you do is adorable, if that’s a reason?”
I chuckled. “Fine. After that, would you like to go to the playground with the human kids? I saw you liked swing sets, hopscotch, and some other things; if your dad is okay with it, maybe you could try it in real life.”
“Really? Yes! Please, Daddy, can we—can we?”
“Okay, but you’re going to be very careful on the swings. I don’t want you falling off,” Gress responded.
“Yay! Quick, Taylor, sit down so we can go to the playground! I wanna go right now…um, I mean, please do that because it’d be nice and I’m so excited!”
Deciding to humor Lecca since she was at least trying to make it a request, I flopped down on the floor. I didn’t think much about how I situated myself, bending my legs and placing one foot beneath each knee: the familiar diamond shape shown by children in a reading circle in an elementary school classroom. Gress’ expression changed to the annoying one, which meant I’d inadvertently done something cute to him; Lecca rushed to take a picture, and I made no attempt to stop her. The Krev child squealed, flailing her claws around in excitement at my mundane behavior.
Well, this is a new way to make a kid’s day. By…let me check my notes…sitting cross-legged on the ground.
“Is that a normal way that humans sit? Your legs are all folded up and overlapping,” Gress gushed. “And your feet are like little pedestals for your knees; it’d be even cuter if I could see your wiggly toes!”
I facepalmed, standing up in a hurry. “There’s nothing special about this. You can’t be serious. It’s called criss-cross applesauce.”
“Aw, even the name is the cutest thing. I heard that rhyme…and it mentions fruit mash, if ‘applesauce’ translated. I can imagine it smeared all over your face, replacing that fur you shave away, where you coat your chin in that white foam. That made you look more babyish and harmless! I can’t.”
“You’re horrible; and how can you say I’m harmless one sentence, then go ‘primates are violent’ in the next? You know I’m not harmless, because I literally whacked you over the head.”
“I don’t put continuity between one thought and the next, because I’ll think whatever is necessary to make you precious and pettable! You can’t stop me.”
“Precious? Nope, I can and will stop you; I’ll look really sad if you use that to describe me again. I know how to hurt you.”
“But I can hug you if you look sad.”
I scoffed. “Playground. Now.”
The Krev coaxed his daughter out of the hotel room, and I thought to myself that there were worse ways to be spending this limbo, waiting for news on Mafani and the Federation. Human kids playing together with aliens hadn’t been in my wildest imagination four months ago, but now, I could watch other children have the fun times that I never experienced. That was a reason to press on and keep fighting. It was wonderful to have people in my life who cared about me, no matter what happened, and who could explore the new and improved Tellus with me.
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Star Crossed [Multiple Free Sample Chapters] Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore

Whats good buds. I hope I did not keep you all waiting too long for a new chapter. I am back with a new fun section of the interlude story between Human Trauma 2 and 3. This time we get a big peak into our leading man's mind and our leading ladies. one being a stuck-up spoiled brat, the other a gruff and too stubborn for his own good gunslinger.
Let's go save our bread
Conor slowly descended the stairs, muscling past a drunken pair of Purletric dancers loitering at the bottom. Once on the ground floor, he vanished into the crowd of undulating, grinding bodies.
None of the dancers paid him any mind as he weaved in and out of their groups. All were far too inebriated to note the predator stalking past or any weapons he carried beneath his jacket. Be it the knife on his hip, the pistol in hand, or the stun granades on his belt.
Clutching the pistol in his metallic hand, Conor wondered what the worn stippling was like to hold. It had been years since his right hand could feel, and the L1-JKL was nowhere near as sharp as when it was manufactured hundreds of standard years ago by Nekarilaqa arms.
At this point, the JKL was ancient, being over tenfold his age. But the Slug thrower was still effective and was integrally suppressed. Those who loved the weapon model would call it the Jackle; Conor was not one of those people.
He preferred to call it the Joker because the pistol was the perfect weapon for his needs or as helpful as breathing on someone. At least the suppressor would make it impossible to hear the weapons report beyond a few meters —-especially with loud base drums.
In an environment as ridiculously voluminous as the nightclub, Conor would not even be able to hear the weapon going off, much less the drunk and high partygoers keying their senses into the ear-splitting music.
Conor’s theory on the level of ignorance the inebriated attendees was given credence when he wrapped his hand on the slimy mouth of one of the Voodal mooks and sent four slugs through his back, blood and viscera showering a group of scantily clad dancers; all of them none the wiser that the warm liquid glowing neon in the club lights was the orange blood of the amphibian.
Instead of taking the time to hide the body in a trashcan like this was a B-rate hollow-flick, Conor shoved the limp body off to the side. the Voodal collapsed against the damp, durecrete wall with a dull thud.
Club security would find the body soon enough and toss it in the alleyway outback, likely assuming he passed out. Until then, the dancers would continue blissfully unaware of the cadaver in their midst. Conor just knew he would likely have to explain to Zyntle why he and Brakul were conducting business in his nightclub; that was in a way taboo for the duo.
“Good kill. Move to the right,” Brakul instructed through the radio. “Next target is lazed.”
“Copy,” Conor muttered coldly into his mask's communication device.
While he passed a pair of green-skinned Kubutals grinding hard against one another, Conor spotted Brakul's laser stock steady on the chest of the next Voodal. He moved quickly, distancing himself from the couple that was only two layers of cloth away from fucking on the dancefloor, needing to speed things up if he was going to win the bet
Once past them, Conor closed the gap between him and the next target, pulling her close. Before the woman registered that she now had a new and less-than-provocative dance partner, Conor slammed her against the wall, pushed his suppressed pistol into her groin, and stitched off four quick shots.
Usually, a bullet smashing your pelvic girdle would cause uncontrolled screaming, But with Conor's metallic elbow crushing the amphibian's trachea, she could only muster a weak croak.
As the Kyrail woman thrashed, her windpipe cracked and crackled; She struggled against Conor like an untamed Rehal: kicking, punching, clawing, all in a desperate animalistic desire to survive. But that could not last forever, and they both knew it; after half a minute, the fight in her amber eyes faded, having drained out with the blood coating her and Conor's boots.
“You better hurry it up; there are only four left,” Brakul mocked as Conor let the dead woman's corpse slump against the wall, and running her pockets.
“You could fucking help me, you Nurlik!” Conor flippantly replied while pulling a bag of visage from the woman's pocket.
“I am helping, just not too much; I still have crit riding on you failing—-remember,” Brakul sniggered.
“This was your idea,” Conor grumbled, leaving the woman gbehind and wafting past another dancer towards the next Kyrail.
Thankfully Brakul did not comment further while Conor was actively dealing with the next target; Brakul might be an asshole, but he was a professional and knew to let Conor work.
Conor covered the gang member's nose with the open bag and drove a swift knee into his grundle; the man’s autonomic functions did the rest. The strike caused them to gasp and breathe in a lungful of the acrid yellowish powder.
The amphibian coughed, bluckling over as his brain was forced to error code by the narcotic. Conor silently thanked Orphian Manufacturing that filters in his mask saved him from the zombifying cloud, unlike the other patrons within arms reach of his last target who also began to fall tot he deck.
“Do I have to remind you of our bet on the Driltol mining platform? Because last I checked, that was your idea,” Brakul commented, shifting his laser to the next target.
Conor huffed in annoyance, remembering that bet and horrible day all too well. He lost five thousand crit and his arm over the course of an hour. All because he was young, inexperienced, hot-headed, and not keeping keyed in on the task.
On top of the physical and financial damage, Conor also learned two important lessons about this line of work. Firstly, he had to stay focused on his current objective while being aware of what was happening nearby.
The second lesson he learned was to trust Brakul's wisdom and counsel. The older mercenary had a far better sense of business and an uncanny ability to tell when a gig would go bottoms up, and they needed to pop smoke.
Those lessons were things Conor still had to remind himself of regularly. He was far more reliable and wise than those days but could not hold a candle up to Brakul.
“Are there any updates on the others?” Conor questioned, slipped behind a pillar, pulling the trigger and splattering another Voodal ganger's brains on the bar, wall, and an unsepecting Farun’se.
“You better hurry up, conman. They just figured out something is going on and are starting to move,” Brakul said calmly.
Grunting to confirm he understood, Conor gave up on flowing like an unseen predator through the crowd and started to force the comparatively diminutive aliens out of the way. Sometimes speed was safety, and with his time hack being measured in seconds—now was one of those times.
Conor pushed through the last group of dancers, most falling to the ground with painful yelps. Once through, he finally had sight of the group of Kyrail. One of the Kyrail was bleeding out on the deck, and two were left standing.
One was a hulking brute with a beer gut, grey scales, and wore a tight tunic like cloth. The red scaled woman was using the older lizard like a shield, yelling something at the Voodal gangers, but the club's music drowned out her voice.
Conor had to give it to the old fool; he had some balls. Even though he was outnumbered and unarmed, he stood stalwart against the last three Voodal gangers, closing the short gap between them.
Balls or not, the Kyrail were not in a winning scenario and would be overwhelmed quickly. With their back-to-wall, Conor had to act fast; there was no way he would lose another bet. Brakul would never let him live that down.
—--
“Stay behind me,” Torkla hissed, pushing Eivaley back from the three aliens.
Eivaley clutched tightly to Torklas clothes and did what she was told. He was the champion appointed ot her by her father; and would fill most of the rolls of a champion until she found someone who could best him.
Her heart was slamming like a hammer and anvil in her chest while the three aliens cackled and kept getting closer. The only question running through her mind and body right now was, what was happening?
This was supposed to be an enjoyable trip, not whatever this nightmare was now.
Daddy had invited her to Heavalun and the COS to get a feeling for the city and the area of space his shipping company was expanding into.
Her father, Vuraley, handled all the tedious paperwork: setting up contacts, buying warehouses, hiring security, and setting up a private spaceport. All she was supposed to do was stay out of trouble, look pretty at a few meetings with clients, and stay close to her security detail.
Now Eivaley was cowering behind the back of one of her clans proudest warriors while three meter-and-a-half tall bipedal frogs brandished weapons and were threatening them. She could not imagine what Daddy would say about this when she got home. Would he cut her allowance? Not let her go out in town again? Or worst of all, not let her go out and see her friends anymore?
Either way, she was not looking forward to what he would do to her—it wasn’t like any of this was her fault.
“Oi, soljah, ‘and, ‘er ovah, and we hont ‘urt yah,” one of the grey-skinned toads croaked, pointing a pistol at Vuraley and flicking off the weapons safety.
“You had better get out of here,” Eivaley hissed reflexively, far to use to having others of her species following her everyword like gospel. “My daddy will have none of this; he will make you all regret this,”
“Stop talking,” Torkla yelled, keeping his eyes on the encroaching Voodal. “you’re not helping.”
What in the grand broods name? Torkla yelled at her. He never yelled at her, even though he had been guarding her since she was a little girl. Torkla was under Oath to obey her, and keep her safe; that includes listening to her. He should not be able to yell at her.
“Yah lil’ lady, yah should listen. We know yer daddy and don’t care, and you are worth too much to pass up,” The Voodal sniggered. “So soljah, yah gonna ‘and ‘er ovah?”
Torkla looked over the men who had paused, slinking closer, and were waiting for his answer. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Eivaley. The girl he might as well have helped raise was shaking like a leaf and needed him to be a rock right now.
“No deal,” Torkla replied, drawing a knife and readying to fight off the aliens or die trying.
The front toad clicked his tongue and languidly twirled the pistol while stepping off to the side. “Come on, no reason tah die fer ‘er. Be reasonable,”
“Torkla would never—” Eivaley started, but he yelled at her again.
“I said shut up,” Torkla barked. “You can get made at me later.”
Eivaley jumped then clutched his jacket and nodded silently, not wanting him to yell anymore. While yes she might be in charge of Torkla and the others her father assigned to her; until she found her own champion she would never have any true power.
“I said no deal,” Torkla affirmed.
The lead toad rolled his eyes and sighed while raising the weapon toward Torkla, readying to slump the stupid royal guardsman.
Once the pistol was full raised they nodded. Both accepting accepting that there was only one way this would go. One of them would end up in a body bag. While the Kyrail and Voodal had many differences this was one thing both accepted.
Neither group would detest giving someone a good death—even though both thought it would be others turn to hit the deck.
The next few seconds were some of the longest, most horrendous moments of Eivaley’s life.
Torkla roared like a beast dredged up from the bottomless dark pits of hell, shot forward, and tried to slip the pistol from the Kyrail’s grip; his fangs snapping as his potent venom trailed passed his lips.
But at his age, Torkla was not the young proud palace guard he was when he was first assigned to be Eivaley’s personal guard.
Now that he was pushing fifty, he was old, slow, and more willing than ever to lay it all on the line for the few people he was bound to protect. Right now, he regrettably could not meet the bill.
A deafening, unsuppressed shot cracked like thunder just as Torklas claws caressed the handgun. The round ripped through his palm and carved a deep canyon in the old warriors skull, showering Eivaley in blood, bone, and brain matter of the man who earlier was chuckling and asking her to dress more modestly.
The crack of the weapon turned the nightclub into pure bedlam. Drunken partygoers screamed while they shoved and trampled one another, desperately trying to get away. Their panic blaring overwhelmed the club's music and Eivaley’s screams.
As soon as the first Kyrail shot Torkla, the others tossed their bags of visage onto Eivaley, showering her in the drug that burned the image of Torkla’s canyoned skull and slumping body into her mind. An image she would remember until her dying breath.
Over her life she would se many more, and had seen hundreds if not thousands of commoners die so far. That one death meant something more to here; but how much it affected her would take many years for her to understand.
“Grab ‘er,” The lead croaker said just before the metallic hand of a massive beast grabbed his head and crushed it like an egg, blood glowing as it squirted between shining metallic fingers.
Whoever just killed the man who shot Torkla picked up the lead ganger and effortlessly tossed the corpse into another one of the gang members. As soon as he was done with that, he lifted his handgun and fired three rounds into the remaining mook, not even bothering to glance fully at them.
In her drug-induced stupor, Eivaley’s mind and body could not focus on anything beyond critical details. Sparse things that stood out so much she could never forget them.
One of the mans arms was covered in metal; whether it was armor or cybernetics, she did not know, nor could she care. At this moment, it was the shining armor of a night of yor: strong, valiant, and rescuing a damsel in distress.
The vissages causing her neurons to misfire, rocketed stories of strong brave men rushing to the rescue of the noble women when their homes were under siege. And as far as seh saw it, this situation was just that.
Her guards failed,and now as if summoned by the gods themselves a brave knight burst forth from nowhere and defied the darkness threatening the dainty princess. No it did not matter she was the 5th princess and would never be queen, just that she had her champion, and it seems that chose her.
Before the visage entirely took effect, Eivaley heard the man say a few words. It was difficult to listen to him through the skull art covered mask he wore, but her savior's voice was deep, reverberating, and filled with clear, driven intent.
“I got the girl; meet you at Stitches’s place,” the man said just as he tossed Eivaley’s now near limp body over his heavily muscled shoulder and rushed through the crowd.
The last thing Eivaley could remember before the visage sunk its fangs deep into her mind was the man kicking open the back door and rushing out into the Heavalun night, bright neon signs, and the dingy alley welcoming them into their midst.
So how did you like this one? nothing to bad right? we are just getting started, and have a fat chunk of chapters left. like my other stories, expect well-timed and thought-out violence and inter-character moments. I hope you give my new tale a chance.
Please do not forget to updoot and comment.
Your baking Buddy
-Pirate
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my 16 year old shihtzu, skeeter (mosquito valentine) has been suffering from pulmonary hypertension and heart failure since august. i honestly didn’t think she would make it 9 whole months with us since those scary emergency vet visits, but we’ve been so diligent in her care and medication schedule. also invested in an oxygen chamber for when things get bad but she’s been so strong and brave. on thursday she was doing great, aside from occasional syncope episodes that started at the beginning of april, her cough wasn’t bad and her breathing was really good aside from one scare on april 27th that she miraculous snapped out of.
yesterday in the early morning, about 3am, her breathing became labored and she spent practically all day in her oxygen chamber, as per directed by the vet, because she is maxed out on all her medications and there’s just nothing we can do. we’ve been hoping and praying that she’ll snap out of it again like last time, but things seem to be be getting worse. she’s struggling even in her oxygen chamber and hasn’t eaten since thursday. i know it’s time.
it’s been really hard for my partner as well, as she’s been his dog as long as he’s been with me which is 10 years now. i’ve had skeeter since i was 16. i’m now 30 and she is my whole world. my entire life has revolved around her and even more so since her diagnosis. medication every 8 hours and every 12 hours, waking up at 3am for her medication and checking on her everyday while i’m at work. she’s been my rock through all the worst things in my life. unexpectedly losing my dad at 22, my brother in law at 28 and my grandfather and 29. she was there for the very best and worst moments of my life.
since yesterday all i’ve been doing in sobbing and bargaining with the universe. to please help her snap out of this. to please give us more time. when truly no amount of time would ever be enough.
i’m heartbroken. i’m angry. i don’t know how to move forward. i need to make the appointment, i know i do. today i need to make it. there’s a few services in my area that do in home euthanasia on short notice but i know i should have made it already. but the way she keeps looking at me. i wish we could speak to each other. i wish i could tell her a million times that she’s all the stars in the sky to me and that i would do anything for her. i’m so scared of what’s gonna happen when she’s not here. she’s been with me through everything. lived in two states together and 6 homes. she was always my rock. my comrade. my absolute best friend no matter what and losing her feels like i’m trapped in a horror movie. a nightmare i can’t wake up from.
i just need to know im doing the right thing and that she knows i love her more than anything in the entire universe. i feel so broken and she’s not even gone yet.

Hello everyone. Some stats on my pup: 13 year old, intact, puggle, 34 lbs (slightly overweight but losing weight has been difficult as he has cataracts in both eyes and has to be carried down the stairs and his collapsed trachea ia acting up making walks shorter)
My puggle has had issues eith tracheal collapse over the past few years. The typical honking cough followed by an extremely loud gagging sound. Neither of us is getting much sleep because i won't make him sleep without me as he is older and looks for me when I'm gone.
I have now taken him to 2 different vets and today, a tracheal stent surgery was mentioned. My questions are, would his age affect the willingness for a surgeon to perform the surgery? Is there ANYTHING I can do to alleviate the coughing symptoms? He has tried a combo steroid/antibiotic, hydrocodone cough syrup, cough pills and briefly tried a bronchodialator pill. I can clearly see on his x-ray the narrowing of the trachea and I am willing to do anything to help/keep him around for as long as I can.
https://i.imgur.com/18sWazo.jpeg

[Part 2]
Aqua and Kana's Potential Relationship?
https://preview.redd.it/g1a1097c931d1.png?width=483&format=png&auto=webp&s=7876d0119236571972e7d1a0183dea0ac3bc77b4
I may not have loved chapter 149, but I'm still curious to see how Aqua would handle being in a relationship with Kana. On one hand, they do have similarities. Both enjoy acting, both hate bell peppers, both attempt to selflessly give up things they like for the sake of others, both enjoy facts and weird books.
But on the other hand when you take away the normal things from their relationship and just leave the low self-confidence (Kana) and guilt (Aqua) it makes me wonder if a relationship between each other would go well (if they were to stay in those states and not develop while being a couple).
Fortunately, something we do know is that in the flashforwards, Kana still seems to be on good terms with Aqua.
https://preview.redd.it/2uj8gfmrb31d1.png?width=862&format=png&auto=webp&s=11ab8876d4d4cb944c7a21652e22e1a560483473
Aqua, on the other hand, still has the mindset of someone who can’t love others, so unless he is lying, that probably means Aqua will either be in a relationship and still believe this, be lying to the camera for the safety of the person he’s with, or be single.
https://preview.redd.it/zsykxm5vb31d1.png?width=879&format=png&auto=webp&s=d3ece13029f7be70fbf5564654708ebc487bd8f5
Aqua also has a strong resolve related to not loving anyone which makes it hard for someone like Kana to get closer.
https://preview.redd.it/def3doddp31d1.png?width=675&format=png&auto=webp&s=a336fcb96df338801d8c8f363f6668a008480c5b
But that's where Akane's plan could come into play. Akane is already aware that Aqua is adamant about keeping his distance which is why she wishes to use the knowledge of what he likes and hates to give Kana an advantage.
She's already potentially hinted at Aqua's attraction to Kana, and even if these takes are coming from third-party opinions (Ruby, Miyako, Taiki, Gotanda, and of course Akane), the fact that multiple people have had thoughts on their relationship suggests that Aka wants us to observe it as well and question why Aqua views and reacts to Kana differently.
https://preview.redd.it/c81nf05bq31d1.png?width=659&format=png&auto=webp&s=fbfd8bddaa97887566033d650ba2edecf896148c
During his time dating Akane, Aqua tried his best to avoid Kana in order to protect her. After chapter 95's rain chapter and her scandal, however, he states that it would be more convenient to keep Kana around.
And that actually brings me to my last question:
What is Akane hoping fo where will this plan go?
Potential Outcomes of Akane’s Plan
This section is mainly me just typing out my thoughts after the chapter. The last ones are quite shippy, but I'll try my best to remain unbiased while discussing them. PS. Some of these might overlap and both be possible.
Possibility #1 Another Eye: Following her exact words from chapter 149, Akane wants to use Kana to place pressure on Aqua, who she is aware is distancing himself from his loved ones due to fear.
https://preview.redd.it/l8toyt9ns31d1.png?width=346&format=png&auto=webp&s=456db09df9b7c329c879b67c1dc6424712ec9fd6
The final panel of chapter 149 might show us that Akane may want to use things Aqua likes and hates and relay them to Kana, causing Aqua to notice that Kana is changing. These changes, depending on how severe they are, and how closely they align with his PTSD, may trigger Aqua to have a PTSD attack, something Aqua does not want others to know about.
Why would she do this? Mainly to place pressure on Aqua and make it harder for him to distance himself from someone that Akane is aware makes Aqua happy (shipping or not).
Overall, Akane may want Aqua in a relationship, so another set of eyes will be on him. This could place Aqua in a difficult position, forcing him to confront the future consequences of his actions and how they will affect the people around him.
Possibility #2 A Bright Star: Akane wants to use Kana because she still believes that Aqua is attracted to Kana.
https://preview.redd.it/1q81vpcxt31d1.png?width=930&format=png&auto=webp&s=6aee8e64f9a706ce84ed136c7f9644b6f9882432
chapter 76
During the Tokyo Blade Arc, Aqua told Akane that he believed Kana was “someone who shines brightest when she’s drawing all the attention to herself.”
From Akane’s point of view, she may feel that once Aqua and Kana are together, the happier, and more confident Kana (similar to the one from TB) will return and be able to constantly give Aqua some version of normalcy, happiness, and fun.
https://preview.redd.it/vfm3ybxmz31d1.png?width=786&format=png&auto=webp&s=268fcc1aa98fe35f091c8b8b18324c5587ba49ca
On top of that, if Akane's deduction of Aqua's feelings is correct, receiving the confidence, joy, and attention from someone he's attracted to could help Aqua reach a level where he can imagine being happy without revenge or at least begin questioning if he deserves to be happy again.
Possibility # 3 Distraction: This one’s short. Akane wishes to use Kana as a distraction for Aqua. If they were to date, Akane may have more time to figure out a better alternative for dealing with Hikaru that wouldn’t result in Aqua going straight to jail.
https://preview.redd.it/53t910ayv31d1.png?width=656&format=png&auto=webp&s=0cc5956bfd211d758cb225e6470e0632f7300a24
Possibility #4 Complete Failure?: Akane still wishes to use Kana in order to pressure Aqua, however, Aqua decides to reject Kana's advances, forcing Akane to come up with a new plan.
chapter 61
Possibility #5 He can't: Despite Akane being correct that Aqua likes Kana, Aqua decides to follow his resolve and keep his distance. Why would Aka write a scene where Aqua rejects Kana if he likes her? Well, so that one line from the movie arc can finally come back into play. The line I’m referring to of course is the“ I can’t love you” line.
https://preview.redd.it/l73mv1v8z31d1.png?width=474&format=png&auto=webp&s=0f417684a48bdc6be169c5873b59ef12d0be7c38
Yeah. I’m still a bit bothered that this line was skipped over in the movie arc, so in the hopes that it will ever be brought up again, I added it to my list of possible scenarios. Aqua ends up rejecting Kana, but in turn, he reinterprets the line Ai said to him on the DVD’s.
This allows us to also learn how Ai felt about Hikaru, and return back to Ai and Hikaru’s story. Kind of cruel, but at least this route would force Aqua to rethink some things concerning Ai and his feelings for Kana. It could also just make things worse. Who knows?
Possibility #6 (Extra Shippy One): Alright. If they really do like each other, Akane’s plan may be to change Kana, only for Aqua to admit he already liked how she was before. It’s a weird theory, but, in my opinion, if Aqua already likes her, there really isn’t any point in changing her… right? She would already be his ideal type.
https://preview.redd.it/ef3y307xz31d1.png?width=705&format=png&auto=webp&s=071fc3b154e4b538128b008d456d3da675fb570c
And Finally...
Possibility #7 A Slip-up: In this scenario, we have to believe Akane’s been aware of Aqua’s feelings since Tokyo Blade and knows he’s been holding himself back from pursuing Kana. Due to this, she views Kana as a weakness for Aqua and wants Aqua to experience being with the person he likes, or at least slip up a bit so that Kana is aware of his feelings and begins confidently pursuing him on her own. Kana being aware of this puts more pressure on Aqua which Akane hopes will force Aqua to abandon the revenge.
https://preview.redd.it/hy9kep4z041d1.png?width=958&format=png&auto=webp&s=c33ccedd4550cbc8444fe98ac673ad6bb6192157
So, will the plan of supporting Kana’s love work?
Hmmm...maybe? Akane’s been pretty confident about stuff in the past, but despite being incredibly gifted, it almost always ends with her questioning if she went too far.
No shade, by the way. I really like Akane. It’s just possible that her plan may lead her and/or Kana into a situation she's not prepared for.
We also have no idea if Kana will even say yes to Akane's plan or be able to express her feelings to Aqua. However, based on the original Japanese translation for chapter 149 that other fans shared, it seems we may get Kana's POV in the next chapter, which could clue us in on how she’s feeling.
https://preview.redd.it/le7gr656441d1.png?width=873&format=png&auto=webp&s=f0aec432ff97341c002c9bd2547fe90915afb49b
On top of that, there’s a certain third party *cough Ruby* that hasn’t received any romantic focus or mention following 143, and I’m starting to wonder when Aka plans to bring that up again.
In conclusion, while Akane’s plan could potentially influence the direction of the story, it’s uncertain whether it will succeed or lead to the outcome she anticipates. The presence of other characters, who have yet to be fully explored, adds to the unpredictability of the narrative and leaves us open to discussions that could go either way.
Final Opinions: From the way the last panel was framed, and the way Aka is setting it up, it does seem possible Akane will get her way, and that we may see Kana and Aqua dating this arc. Even still, dating may not mean Aqua will stop his plan or put down his pitchfork - he may simply choose to keep Kana at his side rather than lose her, and go in for different reasons other than romance.
This may still turn into a genuine romance down the road if Aka chooses, but it also might place Kana in a position where she goes back to shining brightly and becomes another shining star who could get harmed in the future.
But, what do you think? Do you have any theories of your own regarding the future of our characters or Akane's plan?
chapter 30

Race Information

• Name: BMO Vancouver Marathon 2024
• Date: May 5th, 2024
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: Vancouver, BC
• Website: https://bmovanmarathon.ca/
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11341057303
• Time: 3:33:31

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Sub 3:20	No
B	Sub 3:30	No
C	PB (Sub 3:34)	Barely

Splits

Mile	Time
1	7:39
2	7:30
3	7:51
4	7:51
5	7:51
6	8:11
7	8:58
8	8:25
9	8:14
10	8:07
11	7:54
12	7:49
13	7:40
14	8:14
15	8:29
16	8:15
17	8:10
18	8:18
19	8:21
20	8:10
21	7:40
22	7:46
23	7:36
24	7:58
25	8:10
26	7:38
26.2	7:02

Training

My last marathon was Toronto back in October, where I ran 3:34 (race report here).
I mostly followed whatever Garmin's auto-suggested runs were. My goal since last summer has primarily been to improve my aerobic pace with Z2 running. Comparing my HR during runs now to last year seems to indicate I've seen a lot of improvement there, and I can feel that. Another goal of mine since my last race was to work on strength after having issues with my adductors and glute, but I don't think I quite followed through on that. For the first few months of the year I was okay about going to the gym and doing leg curls, split squats, and core work, but I kind of fell out of the habit eventually. I also went to a few strength training classes that would leave me sore for several days, but I need to do that more often to really build on it; I did feel my hamstrings were stronger from doing deadlifts and step-downs.
In some of my long runs I wore a vest and had the idea that maybe I'll carry a vest during the race this time so that I could always have hydration and even add some pomegranate juice/coconut water to a flask for easy access to carbs and electrolytes. This worked well, but I ultimately decided after the training runs that the bouncing would be too annoying, I would sweat more because of the vest, and I am pretty good about drinking lots of water outside of running.
I didn't do a lot of speed work in my training, but when I did up the intensity, I noticed I would sometimes feel some tightness on the right side of my chest, which is an issue I had in high school. At the time I was worried it was a heart issue, but I got a lot of tests done to indicate there were no issues. The issue is that I don't change up how I breathe between easy runs (long, slow breaths) and hard runs. I think I need to breathe more intensely to avoid diaphragm tightness, and more speed training will help with that.
My shoe rotation was Saucony Triumph 20s as my daily trainers, Kinvara 13s as my speed shoe, and I picked up a pair of Endorphin Speed 3s from Winners for $60 a few months ago which I've been using for speed and long runs, which complement my Endorphin Pro 3 race shoes.
My Garmin race prediction was 3:19. My personal feeling was that I could achieve that goal if it was a flat race, but I was skeptical on how I would perform on the course. I looked up other race reviews, watched a video of the race, and tried to think about how I would handle the hills, but knew that I didn't have enough experience to not have it be a factor.

Pre-race

Flight and Expo

Two Fridays before the race I did Anaerobic intervals and that was probably a mistake because my adductor was sore for over 4 days after that. I probably still felt the effects of that on race day.
I did my 5k shakeout run in my race shoes Friday morning. I had leftover pasta before leaving for the airport in the late afternoon. I flew to Vancouver on in the evening, arriving at night.
On Saturday, I went to the grocery store immediately after waking up since it was closed after we arrived the night before. The main things I got for myself that were race-relevant were gluten free quick oats, coconut water, apple and orange juice, honey, sunflower seed butter, soy milk, and a carton of cold brew coffee.
I went to the expo to get my bib before we got lunch in Gastown. We went to MeeT, and I got the Philly Cheezesteak Poutine and Oyster Mushroom Calamari which I shared with my GF. They had an issue with my friend's order so they offered him a free dessert which he was nice enough to share, so I got to have a bit of his brownie too!
After lunch I recommended everyone check out Stanley Park on their own so I could go home and rest my legs. I stopped by Nesters to pick up a GF Caulipower Pizza for dinner to have with some juice. My blood sugar spiked from the poutine at lunch, so I took some insulin to correct that, pre-emptively took insulin for the pizza I was about to have, and took a nap. After that, I put the pizza in the AirBnB's toaster oven (on top of some foil to avoid cross-contamination), but this ended up being a mistake. We discovered later in the week that the toaster oven stops working after a minute or two. When I ate my pizza I noticed it was a bit soft but figured it may have just been the texture: now I know it was likely undercooked, and I feel stupid for not realizing that.

Race Day

The start time for the marathon was 8:30am and I was in the first corral. I woke up at 5:30am and had my oatmeal (quick oats microwaved in water, a spoon of sunflower seed butter, splash of soy milk, superseed blend (chia, hemp, and toasted buckwheat groats), and honey), and a tall glass of cold brew coffee + soy milk. Shortly after waking up I realized I had an upset stomach, so naturally I started feeling stressed that I would have GI issues during the race (see comments about the pizza above). We worried that I may have accidentally ingested gluten due to my group of 7 having gluten in my vicinity, not realizing it was probably the pizza. I had to use the washroom a few times, and hoped it would pass. I had a 500ml bottle of nuun with water mixed with orange juice that I sipped on for the next hour since I saw a Ben Parker video where he did that. Thankfully I wasn't stuck in the bathroom all morning, but I was worried I would feel sick during the race.
With me I brought:

• 5 Huma gels (I don't recall if any of them were caffeinated, but it was Blueberry, Chocolate, and Mocha flavours). I had 2 left after the race.
• 2 Larabars (1 cashew cookie, 1 peanut butter chocolate chip)
• A pack of salt tabs (I'd never taken one but got a free sample at the SF marathon and wanted to have them in case I cramped up for emergency purposes)
• Insulin pump and phone (wish I didn't need to carry a pump with me but it is what it is)
• GF cookies and cream Honey Stinger waffle
• A ziploc bag with two Gravels in case of stomach issues

I was staying in Mount Pleasant and wasn't close to a SkyTrain station. It would have been a 45 minute walk to the start line, but I intended to walk to Main Street and take the 8am bus going south (I originally meant to take the 7:45 bus but my stomach problems delayed my exit). I got to the stop at 7:55, saw a bus approach a few minutes later thinking it was mine, but it said "Sorry, not in service." Oh well, I thought, it'll probably come in a minute. A few minutes pass and no bus came. A different one did that wasn't the one I needed to take. I checked the Transit app and the bus I needed to get on was showing as having already passed. I guess it was the "not in service" one? Maybe it was full? I asked some people at the bus stop who looked like they were spectators, and they were also confused. We ended up walking from there, but I jogged since I needed to get to the start line with some time to spare. During the jog I could tell that my muscles were really tight, which didn't give me a lot of confidence about how the race would do go. I still made it to the start area around 8:15. I stood in line at one of the porta-potties and did my dynamic warm-up routine while waiting. I just made it out of there at 8:28 and rushed over to the start line while gobbling down on my Honey Stinger Waffle and taking a bit of insulin since my blood sugar was already a bit high. Unfortunately, I hastily got into the start line area wherever I could, and I ended up 3 or 4 corrals after the first. I tried as hard as I could to squeeze between people as politely as possible to try and get to my corral. Unfortunately I just missed it, so I ended up being at the front of the 2nd corral, which was fine given what my final time was; I just wish I hadn't wasted energy trying to rush to the front around everyone.

Race

1-6

I started feeling pretty strong, but I also know that my HR takes some time to go up when I start my runs, so I knew I would get cocky in the beginning. My dynamic warm up helped loosen up my glutes and hips, which I was worried about when I jogged to the start line, but immediately when the run started I could feel tightness in my hamstring. Not a great sign but I tried not to focus on it and accept that it's race time so I'll just have to do my best.
I was worried about the hills going in because I didn't do a lot of hill training, and I suck at running down hills. I understand that I simultaneously shouldn't run downhill too quickly to avoid bonking later on, but I also need to use the steady downhills to make up for the time I was going to lose on the climb at Cambie. I went to my physio a few weeks before the race and told her about how I feel tightness in my knee when I run downhill; she helped make adjustments and gave me exercises to do to help my knee feel more comfortable on downhills; they definitely helped, but I still don't have the right technique for running downhill optimally in a way that doesn't cause me to waste energy slowing myself down. I was a little bit ahead of pace by the time I got to the dreaded hill.

7-13

The hill obviously sucked, but that was expected. It was stressful to go slow and have my heart rate go so high, but I tried to keep a consistent cadence going up. At the top of the hill I had a hard time bringing my HR down while maintaining a decent pace. It looks like it took me a few miles after the sharp ascent before I got back to target pace. My hamstring hurting didn't help with this.
The scenery was beautiful and hearing all the positivity around me helped keep my spirits up. After having a gel and trying to pick up the pace a bit I could feel my stomach starting to rumble, so I took one of my gravols and slowed down. I figured they take time to have effect so I wanted to take them early.
I spent a lot of the race alone, which was nice when I would pass by spectators calling my name. It was nice to hear people cheering me on and comment how I wasn't even breaking a sweat. There was a jazz band playing before we arrived at UBC which was awesome to hear.
Right before the halfway mark was a steep downhill. I tried my best to avoid speeding up too much because there was still a lot of race to go. The views of the mountains at the turn were beautiful.

14-21

I started feeling a bit discouraged because my heart rate was in the 170s even though I wasn't going too fast, but my legs were still hurting from the beginning. I read online about how the Burrard Street bridge is brutal and the part of the race where many people hit the wall, so my mind was entirely on that. I also asked my friends to be at the bridge; they already had to go downtown at 9am to see the half marathoners finish and to get one of the people staying with us to his 8k start line at 9:30am. I didn't check my phone during the race but I would see Whatsapp notifications pop up on my watch, and it gave me motivation to see that they were on the way, and also comment on how fast I was going :)
I don't think I had trouble going through the bridge, which motivated me. I also saw a notification saying "we are at the end of the bridge" so I was prepared for that. I saw my friends, gave them a high five, and picked up my pace probably a bit too much 😅
I felt strong going into Stanley Park, but read about how it could be brutal, and was nervous about my HR being in the high 170s already.

21 - Finish

I was mentally prepared for Stanley Park. I was expecting it to be completely dead, but that was not the case for the first half of the Seawall with the aid and cheer stations. The second-half was definitely quiet, but I had my Shokz on playing some music that was fitting for the scenery (Amenra and Septicflesh). It was a bit hard to pick up the pace as the course was a bit tight but I was able to do so. I saw some bloodshed though; one woman was completely covered in a foil blanket with a vested individual standing over her on his phone, one man on a bench with his arm dangling who may have been unresponsive, with some staff rushing back in his direction after I passed him, and one person who started cramping, moved to the side yelling "Fuck!" I yelled at him "You got his!" but immediately realized that maybe those weren't the right words for someone who was cramping up. Not sure what I should have said, though. I started cramping up a tiny bit, my pump was complaining that my blood sugar was dropping, and so I decided to take a gel because I figured it had some electrolytes, and it had been a half hour since my last one. In retrospect I think perhaps a salt tab would have been more useful, but I didn't want to do anything new on race day, even if I only had just over a mile left.
After we left Stanley Park, I felt fine enough to kick up the pace. I saw my friends during the finish and they got some great pictures of me. I was disappointed at how close I was to not PB'ing but at least I reached that milestone. Finishing strong had me feeling like I was holding back elsewhere during the race.

Post-race

I got my medal and felt fine walking to bag check. I picked up a banana and a bottle of the fancy bottled water on the way. I felt sad passing by the sandwiches I couldn't eat. There were also bags of chips that I feel really stupid for skipping. For some reason I scanned the bag for a GF label, but I found out a week later that the brand they had was gluten-free: the GF logo was on the top left, and for some reason I didn't check there.
I passed by a change tent on the way, so I went back there after getting my bag. I put on my hoodie, while bending down to take off my shoes my right adductor started cramping very intensely. I asked someone who was sitting close to me if I could steal their chair and I sat down. I text my friends letting them know I'm in the tent but had a crazy cramp and so was going to take some time to get up. I munched on the banana I had and took a salt cap that I thankfully still had on me. It felt like it took forever but it was probably only 10 minutes until I was able to stand up and lean against a table again to continue putting on my joggers and sandals. It was raining lightly, which was a bit annoying since I was wearing socks with sandals, but it wasn't too heavy. I met up with my friends, got some pictures, and we headed out.
Unfortunately, one of my friends in the group was made aware on Little Red Book that the Lululemon stores downtown had a deal for that day only to get 20% off our purchase if you show your medal/bib. We ended up going to Lululemon 3 times because I'm bad at saying no, so it took a while to get home. We did go to Nuba in Yaletown for lunch which was really good. That night we went to East is East for dinner, which was nice, though in hindsight I should have realized that the loud music made it not the best choice when what I wanted was to feel relaxed and cozy.
We stayed in Vancouver for an extra week and we flew back on the 12th. It was a wonderful stay and I felt depressed coming back. I wish I could have gone on more hikes and even gone trail running through all the beautiful trails in the area.

Retrospective

• I think I ran too conservatively because I was worried about stomach issues (valid given the morning). I needed more electrolytes, though. Overall the race felt easier than Toronto, so it was frustrating that I didn't get a bit closer to my goal time.
• I also wonder how I would have performed if I ran slower in the first half. I know that's the recommendation, but part of me felt like slowing down on some of the downhills would have required me to adjust my form and engage muscles in a way that could have wasted energy. Something to consider for next time, though.
• I wore half tights this time as I had issues with my shorts falling down too much in Toronto. Surprisingly I had that issue this time too! I guess it's a combination of my race belt weighing my shorts down (maybe I should wear it higher?), the weight of Larabars, phone, and pump in my shorts weighing them down (I'm pretty sure I trained like this though), and me losing over 7 lbs in training that caused this. Not sure what I'll do for the next race beyond do more practice in race gear to see what adjustments I need to make.
• I feel like I didn't do a lot of speed work this time around, and any time I did anaerobic runs my adductor would be very sore, so I need to improve my strength there and really build up my speed again. I also need to focus on how I breathe when working hard instead of worrying about breathing in through my mouth too much. My watch would cancel out speed workouts often times because of my lack of sleep and because of my bike commutes and volleyball sessions, so I need to start planning out my own workouts instead of being too much of a slave to my watch's suggestions.
• I'll stop using Kinvara 13s as speed shoes; I'll wear them for some easy runs maybe, or even transition them to daily walkers/gym shoes. I have the Endorphin Speed 3s for speed work now. I also got a pair of Kinvara 14s from Winners for about $50, and the increased cushioning in them might be less likely to cause excessive soreness after doing fast intervals.
• I liked eating Larabars for energy. I am considering continuing with that and also perhaps making my own gels (mostly maple syrup, ginger, salt, and lemon juice is what I'm thinking, perhaps with some chia seeds or subbing for honey) to bring in reusable containers to reduce waste, perhaps be more appealing to consume even without water, and produce less waste/stickiness. Gels also get pricey, it's annoying that Huma's + gels with electrolytes aren't available locally here, and I figure less refined sources of energy would be better than processed foods.
• I want to do dedicated hill and/or trail workouts; I should set time for myself to bike to an area close by to do those as they are fun and will definitely improve my fitness
• There are a few places in Toronto that do Hot/Cold therapy (Othership and Alter) I've been meaning to check out for almost a year. I need to stop being lazy and shy about it and just go because I think it's something I'll like, although I would probably only go once a month considering how much it costs.
• After my last marathon I felt regret that my legs were sore before the race. I tried to fix that this time but wasn't successful. I guess walking to/from work on Friday, then walking with my luggage to the train station and then walking a lot in the airport to get to the gate contributed to that. I went to the expo the next day intending not to spend too much time there, but I was with a group and the people I was with wanted to spend time at a lot of the tables so I ended up on my feet for longer than I probably should have been. I should probably also review the training I do on the last week and maybe consider not even walking to work or biking around town for errands to try and conserve myself more.
• My sleep habits are shit. I watched the Running Channel's recent video on recovering after the London Marathon and Sarah's watch showed that she would casually get over 8 hours and have a sleep score of 90, which is unimaginable to me 😭. I need to change that and intend to do so immediately.
• On the one hand I should prioritize getting to the start line earlier, but I also want to leave as late as possible to avoid having to depend on a crowded port-a-potty. I think this would not have been an issue if my stomach wasn't upset that morning.
• I want to get a running form analysis done. There are a lot of places around me that offer that service and I can get it partially covered under my physio benefits through work.

Looking Forward

I definitely feel like I can PB by a significant margin if I have more discipline in my training, sleep better, and avoid the race day issues I faced. I am still deciding where to do a Fall marathon though. I am trying to weight between what would be a fun race, what would be a good place to travel to and stay for some time after the race, and what would not be too tough of a course. I'm considering the following so far:

• Loch Ness Marathon
  • + I've seen it recommended here a lot, and the Scottish Highlands look beautiful.
  • + Traveling to Europe is nice because it's easy to travel elsewhere on the continent if I do an extended stay before heading back
  • - International travel could make it harder to have an ideal race day, and reading race reports make me nervous about how I may have to take an early bus and stand around the start line for a long time
  • - I'm not sure how good public transit in the area would be since it's rural compared to big cities. I don't like driving if I don't have to and I don't like to use taxis or rideshare
• St George, UT
  • + Downhill marathon, although I think I would prefer a flat marathon as that seems like it would be technically easier unless the decline was light.
  • + I want to explore the southwest canyons as I've never been and it would be fun to explore the hikes in the area afterwards assuming recovery isn't a problem
  • - Presumably no shade since it's down a canyon
  • - Would need a car to get everywhere. Traveling to this area would be for doing a lot of active things but if I give it my all during a marathon it could feel like an incomplete experience.
• Malaga Marathon
  • + Popular flat marathon
  • + Love Spain, but didn't visit Malaga when I went last year. Lots of gluten free food in the area
  • + It's in December, which gives me a lot of time to train and knock out some half marathons in the meantime
  • - I suck at traveling to places where I don't speak the language due to social anxiety. This could be a good way to help get over that and work on it, though.
  • - It being late means it could be a good candidate for a backup marathon in case a primary marathon doesn't go well for whatever reason
• Victoria, BC
  • + BC is beautiful. I wouldn't have to worry about language barriers, and this is a place I would be down to stay for some time after the race.
  • + The race is well-rated for beauty
  • - While not too difficult, the race has a lot of rolling hills, so it will be mildly technical the whole way through
  • - Maybe too similar to Vancouver? Should I prioritize traveling somewhere else instead of doing another week-long BC trip?

Upcoming local races I'm signed up for are a 10k in June by the waterfront, and a 10k in September on the Toronto Island. I would like to see how close I can get to 40 minutes if I wore my Endorphin Speed 3s. I'm hoping to pick training back up this week, but not ramp up too quickly.
I also want to sign up for trail races because trail running is fun. It's unfortunate how it's hard to participate without relying on a car, though.
I may do the Presidio Half Marathon in San Francisco at the end of June; I was offered free registration so long as I record and upload the race as I did for the San Francisco Marathon; it looks like flights to the area area bit pricey at this time though, so even if I stay with a friend it might be a bit too much right now.
Made with a new race report generator created by herumph.

I hooked up with a long term friend recently. He needed a place to stay for the night after getting into some trouble- he’s kinda rough and not a blue collar guy. He’s a hustler and has been through some ish!!! Well it was an out of the blue thing, we hooked up and I instantly regret it. I got a whiff of his cock about 20 seconds in and almost gagged. He reeked of fish, and just smelled nasty!!! I instantly regret it and hopped in the shower and cleaned myself out . We had sex for maybe a minute… than we each took a shower. Well later that night we hooked up again this time for 30 seconds maybe a minute before he said he was gonna cum and I pushed him off of me. I’ve had the weirdest symptoms since… a rash with red dots all over my chest and neck… my leg bones ache and I’ve been getting horrible migraines etc. it’s hard to decipher the symptoms because my kids and I have all had a coughs for 2 weeks with congestion and idk if it’s related to that or my sexual encounter but it’s been a month now since we joined up. He gave me trich and it pissed me off because he told me he was clean. I am so paranoid he gave me hiv. I’m a white female 27, and he’s a black male 31… I told him I was concerned about hiv because he gave me trich and he called me crazy and told me that’s a strong accusation. He also ducked me after giving me trich. He never apologized and just ducked me entirely. The worst part is I’m a hypochondriac and he knows getting trich was literally torture for me to go through. I was having panic attacks everyday on the meds and by myself in the matter. HIV would ruin my life. I’m 27, a single mom of two boys and about to graduate college. My anxiety is debilitating without it. I can’t imagine the panic attacks I’d go through daily waking up with that status. We had sex for less than 2 minutes combined, if I ended up with HIV I’d literally have the worst of luck. I know sex workers who don’t even have it after years of working on the streets.. I feel like I make the dumbest decisions.

Just made it out of the creche on my second paladin playthrough, and I'm realizing how much I don't like the blood of lathander. It's not that the weapon is bad, far from it, it's the earliest legendary weapon in the game (excluding certain expoits, cough silver sword cough).
It's a powerhouse, a level 6 bound spell, a really strong healing effect, +3 to attack and danhe rolls at a point when the player may not have a high chance to hit, and a passive aura that really helps against undead (who makd up the majorityof enemy types in act 2).
So why do I not like it? It's too good. It's best in slot for most frontliner builds, especially with all the undead in act 2. There is no weapon that compares, unless your character doesn't use str based weapons, our focuses on two handed. The only argument for not using it, is that it's own damage dice is a d6, and most other competing weapons are a d8, but the other effects more than make up for it, and most comparable weapons are a +1, so the +3 to damage rolls means the minimum damage is the same.
I absolutely love the thing, for every reason above, but I just wish it had some competition for a paladin, or was a touch less effective, or something. Anything.
Rant over, back to cracking skulls with this silly thing for the next couple hours.

Hello. I just got back from the vet to a quiet house and not sure what I am supposed to do now. Maybe posting here will help.
I got home from work and Snickers was panting and wouldn’t stop. She fell asleep so quick, she was so tired, and she couldn’t catch her breath. I already took her to the vet so many times and she’s on so much medication I didn’t want to take her again. It’s just so expensive and it also stresses her out. She had so many issues but always pulled through and I thought that was what was gonna happen. I googled what to do and everything said to call the vet, so even though I didn’t want to I did. They scheduled an emergency visit for 6, I called them at 4. I hoped she would get better but she didn’t. I brought her in early and got there about 5. She has tremors and is blind so I thought her bumping into things and falling over was semi-normal, given the circumstance. Then she fell and went stiff, outstretched her neck. This has happened before. I had to leave her on the ground and get help. They picked up her tiny limp body from the ground. And I sat in that room, alone, not knowing what was going on, maybe she was already dead.
She had issues for so long. She was going to turn 14 in July. She was on heart medication for more than a year, then Lasix was added, then cough suppressant, then probiotic, a daily vitamin. She had tumors from never getting fixed (my mother’s choice when I was a kid). She lost her spunk. She was mostly deaf and blind, it came on quick. But she would still light up sometimes. She was still a happy little dog. She looked like a puppy, and acted like it at times. A good dog. We bought her a lot of time I’d like to think. I’d like to think she still had a good quality of life during the end. The vet always said she acted great for the circumstance. We knew it was coming, so maybe it’s not as hard. Maybe it’s worse to have been dealing with this so long. But it’s really not about me. I have no idea if what decisions I made were the right ones. It’s so hard to know what to do. I often considered putting her down, but she seemed so content just sitting there looking at me that it felt like cold murder.
Well, the doctor came back and said they could do tests but it seems like this is the end. Her heart stopped in that room. It started again, they put her on an ekg in the back and it stopped again. I asked if putting her down was something to be discussed and she strongly advised it. They got her ready to bring in to say goodbye. Normally she needs a muzzle but they said they put catheters in and she didn’t care. She came out and could barely breathe. It was frightening the way she looked. But it helped solidify putting her down was she needed. She had another episode while we said goodbye. I asked the vet when she started her episode to just go ahead with the dose. Her breathing got slow and quiet and stopped.
I’d like to think this was the best case. It seemed like her quality of life deteriorated quick today and were able to help her not suffer too much. I bought her a hot dog yesterday. I know she likes them. She hadn’t had one in years. She made it out to fishing this year. We got ice cream too. I’m glad we didn’t wait too long. It’s hard to know when she might go when we’ve had so many scares over the course of almost two years. But it came to an end today. She’s okay. Everything is okay. I just hope she had a good life. And a good last year. I hope she didn’t suffer. I hope she would agree with the decisions I made on her behalf.
I’m getting her ashes in a few days to a week. And her paw print in clay. But it’s all okay. I’m just not sure what to do with myself. Life can’t not go on, but it seems weird to carry on. But what do I do? I feel like I’m disrespecting her and not showing her love if everything continues as normal. But what do I do. I’m not sure. I just hope she's okay. Now to stop writing and go back to life I guess. It just feels wrong.

Standing in a desert with no one but Solomon and me, a quiet fear had me scratching the top of my hands. Snapping his fingers, the scene shifted to the president’s house. Staring down at my outfit, a frilly wedding greeted my trembling palms. Stepping back with a rounded eyes, his elbow hooked around mine. Leaning down to kiss me, a clammy sweat drenched my skin. Pushing him away, his claws sank into my arms. Shaking me while yelling at me, a scream burst from my lips.
Jerking awake in my chair, the other’s watched me with deep concern. Wiping my tears away, a wave of my hands shut them down. That monster was never going to be my husband, my teeth gritting. Rubbing at my dark bags underneath my eyes, that nightmare had been occurring too often. Jack’s words of comfort falling on deaf ears. Day two of a major migraine had me massaging my forehead, the lack of sleep leaving me feeling less than my usual self. Sinking into my seat, my fingers brushed against my chains. Another mission to a heavily populated planet had us rushing to aid those trapped in a discreet servant trade, my heart aching for them. Images of dead parents haunted me, the poor children probably sitting in cages. Remembering Scampy and Basy’s smile merely brought more unfiltered rage, the raw hurt of how they ripped me from my life biting my heart. Ignoring everyone through the long hours, we descended into the dark side of a mining planet. Undoing my harness, I dropped my helmet over my head. Everything doubled, Jack grabbing my shoulder the moment I snatched my staff off the wall. Mission first, then we can talk about my feelings. Although, the desire to talk about any of it wasn't there.
“What is going on with you lately?” He asked with an annoyed huff, my hand slapping his hand away. “You need to talk or you could compromise this mission.” Rolling my eyes, all of this was becoming too much. Icy and Whiskers joined my side, the conversation ended like that. Running in the shadows, the oxygen kicked one. Cloakie radioed me personally, his voice crackling in my ears. What did he want? Feeling cranky from my migraine, everything seemed to be a nuisance.
“Even I know that you aren’t okay. Talk to me while I hack into the system.” He spoke sternly, the corner of lips curling into a tired smile. “Don’t get me started on your lack of sleeping at night.” Digging at the light green sand, he had a point. Then again, would it be fair for Jack not to know what was going on before anyone else? His rights as a husband required that, my heart wanting to give him such a simple conservation. Alas, it was not a simple task to my anxiety- ridden mind.
“It’s nothing.” I spat impatiently, the three of us coming upon a clear dome protecting the kids. “Leave me alone.” The heavy door groaned open, Cloakie chastising me. Sprinting in, the door slammed shut behind us. Hiding behind a big rock, dirty kids walked by with carts of precious metal. Remembering the trauma that I was put through, horror rounded my eyes at the impaled parents on wooden spikes. Jack shook with raw fury behind me, my hand on his arm shutting him down. Turning on my radio, the boys shook their heads in protest at my order.
“Get the kids out of here. Pull the ship, Cloakie! I have a problem to deal with.” I ordered sharply, my concise words affirming my position on the matter. Skidding out of my hiding spot, golden energy glowed at the end of my staff. Missing my pets, my scaled ladies were on my ship waiting for my return. Think of something nice. Think of something nice to keep me calm.
“Come on out, Master Fachork! Face me like the man you aren’t!” I challenged him, his snake alien men looking up from what they were doing. “I suppose an appetizer is in order. Come and get me.” Sprinting into the mine, the ten henchmen crunched after me. Building up golden energy around my foot, a swift kick sent a cart clanking down a tunnel. Hiding in a large crack, the glow from my golden staff died down. Watching them crash down the tunnel with headlamps, the next step had to be completed. Coming out of my hiding spot, the number of casualties had to be kept to a minimum. Creeping out of the entrance, the pale moonlight of five moons gave me the light I needed while making my head pound harder. Sprinting towards a sea of tents, big eyes watched me skid into the tent. Jack appeared over the hill with about thirty children, the ten behind me cowering. Crouching down to their level, their breath hitched the moment I took off my helmet. Cupping the nearest child’s cheek, tiny tears dripped off of my fingers. The poor things had nothing to worry about in our care, a few of the homes opening up for them when we got back.
“You need to go with the blonde haired man. He is the way to safety.” I promised them sweetly, all of them running towards Jack. Pushing the flap out of the way on my way out, a big worn tent glowed in the distance. Hearing the ten men I ditched crunching behind me, time wasn’t on my hands. My footfalls echoed in the canyon, an elbow to each guard’s face had them hitting a patch of light green rock. Letting myself into the tent, a snake alien in a beat up leather suit placed his whiskey glass gingerly on a coaster. His neon green scales shimmered in the light of the flames, his golden snake eyes tracking me. Must they always be this creepy.
“Long time, no see. What has brought the great captain to my tent.” He commented casually, plucking a cigar from the case next to him. “Solomon said that you would come. Why don’t you want to be his bride? You could have all the riches in the world. After all, you are only a mutt.” Shrinking back, his words stung harder than usual. Slapping my cheeks to snap me out of it, I placed my helmet on his desk as gingerly as he placed his cup. Lighting up the cigar, he snapped his fingers. Solomon sauntered in, his arm yanking me close to his waist. Jamming a needle into my neck, my shaking hands shoved my staff into my belt before I went limp. Throwing me onto the bed, his steady hands chained me to the pole in the tent. Noting his horrid burns, our battle on that planet left a few scars. Smiling to myself, some damage had been dealt.
“Why am I not shocked at your survival? I should have known that my little prize had a way out.” He mused playfully, his finger tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear. Shuddering involuntarily, my nightmare became one step closer to becoming reality. Plopping down next to me, he crossed his hands on his lap. True terror swelled within me, my plan of attack biting me in the ass again. Why couldn’t I ask for help like a normal person? Turning his head to face me, he plucked dust bunnies off of his expensive ivory suit. Smirking cruelly, his palm rested on my thigh. Silent tears stained my cheeks, a bomb rolling in giving me reasons to cry harder. The lack of beeping would be my undoing, my cleverness with my weapons not helping. A loud boom had the toad’s venom splashing onto us. The pure agony of it searing my face canceled out his drug, one solution remaining. Yanking on the pole with the chains holding me prisoner, a thud had the canvas falling over us. The end of the pole had been upended, my muscles protesting as I shimmied down the pole. Hitting the sand with a gruff groan, Master Fachork rolled around a few inches from me. Army crawling over to me, his eyes widened at me draping my chains around his neck. Hissing had my ears perking up, Ratalia slithering in. Venom flowed freely from her fangs. Sinking them into the soft spot on his throat, foam frothed around his lips. Seizing until his hand dropped to the sand, Ratonia lowered a healing potion into my mouth. Biting the glass, the thick liquid coated my throat. Spitting out the glass shards, the cuts on tongue would heal in a moment. Scooping me up, her tongue flickered against my face. Rubbing her scales, her eyes flitted over to Solomon. Wiggling my toes, enough feeling was back for me to walk. Sliding off of her with a kiss, my eager fingers curled around my staff. Steadying my legs, ice shot out from underneath me. Melting it with my golden energy, this was about to be a death trap for him. Electricity crackled to life around his palm, another wave of ice foiled my plans. Cursing under my breath, my scaled pets whisked me out of the tent. Setting me down, Solomon pulled himself out. His staff glistened in his hand, a malicious grin twitching on his lips. Charging at each other, our weapons locked in a position of power. Pushing each other back and forth, his hissing skin peeled off of his arm. Jamming my knee into his stomach, his body smashed into the rocks. Coughing up a fountain of blood, a couple of his organs had burst. Icy tossed me a vial of the venomous oil, Solomon charging at me. Wondering if the oil would burn him, today would grant me my answer. Rubbing the oil into the metal tip, my gloves protected me from its negative effects. Catching my reflection in the ice, faded scars covered my cheeks. As if I couldn't get any uglier, I cursed bitterly to myself. Screwing the top back on, a throw behind me had Icy catching it. Spinning my staff in my palm, Solomon appeared over me with electricity crackling over his staff. Blocking his strike clumsily, my body hit the sand. Rolling around to avoid his blows, my free hand grabbing a big old handful of sand. Throwing it in his face, a thud announced him hitting the ground next to me. Jack called for me to hurry up, Icy tapping his foot with a mixture of anxiety and impatience. Putting my hand in the air, I raised my beat up staff over my head. Slamming it into his head, his tongue rolled out of his mouth. Ratalia rolled my helmet over to me, a quick peck on her cheek had her rattling her tail with joy. Sprinting next to Icy, the others yanked us onto the ship. Tired children were strapped to the bars, Icy throwing me into my chair. Guiding my snakes into their harnesses, the door shutting had him leaping back into his seat. Hooking everything up, Jack backed up a bit before zooming into the inky sea of diamonds. Working the switches, a wormhole hummed to life. Flying in without thinking, he rode the waves of energy with ease. Skidding onto another one of the many jungle planets, the neon trees shooting from the ground. Not recognizing this planet, our coordinates had to be further out. Slowing to a stop, Jack killed the engine. Undoing my harness along with my pets, my snakes couldn’t be happier to be free. Typing at the keyboard, my ship did a run through of the oxygen levels. Watching the bar move up and down, a sigh of relief flooded from my lips at it falling well within the safety zone. Ditching my suit, curiosity had me running towards the door to explore. Typing in the code to open the door, my heart ached for the poor orphans we rescued.
“Whiskers and Jack will take care of you. I have to go make sure we are safe.” I announced with a bright smile, the kids cheering up a bit. “Cloakie and Icy! Come along!” Smoothing out my mechanic’s suit, Jack’s protests fell on deaf ears. The door hissed open, Icy’s helmet resting on a seat. A sickly warm breeze lashed at my cheeks, Icy laying his hand on my shoulder.
“Maybe you should talk to Jack. He wouldn’t stop talking about how worried he is about you.” He suggested with a cautious grin, his words holding weight. “Do it for me if you can’t bring yourself to do it.” Pushing me towards Jack, Jack ran his hand through his hair. Yanking me closer to his hips, his forehead pressed against mine. Rocking back and forth for a minute, a hallucination of Solomon had me leaping back. Apologizing pathetically as I ran off the ship, Cloakie and Icy had no choice but to follow me into the lush neon blue and pink vegetation. My pets slithered to my side, the company feeling welcome. Icy cleared his throat as a bloody Bogs waved at me from behind a tree. The color drained from my face, a clammy sweat drenching my skin. Fighting back tears, the scientists from the bomb project had silent tears staining my cheeks. Something seemed off, the scent of deception poisoned the air. The dirt crunched behind us, Jack fussed with his leather jacket. Grinning ear to ear maliciously, a gun glinted in his hand. The others stared at me with odd expressions, my boots pounding deeper into the jungle. Running until I couldn’t, a spike cut my palm. Strange neon pink sludge oozed into my palm, a rough darkness stealing me away.
Standing in the lab of my bomb building project, the scientists waved at me as I crossed the threshold. Happy to be working for me, long emerald waves brushing against the top of my hand spoke of better times. Remembering what day it was, the petite mouse alien dropped the nuclear material onto the floor. A blast knocked me out of the space, a burnt scientist slamming the door shut to prevent a nuclear leak. A ringing in my ears mixed poorly with the rushing sounds of my burst ear drums, officers rushing in around me. Touching my forehead, blood painted my finger. Jack rushed up to me, his words sounding as if he was under water. Reaching for the door, a pool of blood hit my boot. All of them were gone, tortured wails bursting from my lips. The commander marched up to me, her hand pinning me to the wall. Her face blurred, her beratement fading in and out. Jack began to argue with her, a punch sending him into the wall. Kneeing her in the gut, she had no damn right. Dropping me to the floor, the crack of my skull plunged me into darkness.
Groaning awake in her secret torture chamber, the vodka was hot on the commander’s breath. Leaving me alone with someone else, terror had my muscles shaking like a leaf. A thick cloth covered my eyes, Jack’s screams shattering what composure remained. Chains rattled as I realized that a cage surrounded me. A familiar voice had chills running up my spine, Solomon’s claw tracing my cheek. Shivering with fear, my burst ear drum gave me a small bit of relief.
“The commander promised you to me. Together we can destroy all that is around us.” He bragged gleefully, his bright tone frightening me further. “We are the same age and from the same town. Let’s just say I am simply obsessed with you. Too bad the commander is under my control.” Laughing maniacally, the door blew open. Snapping her fingers, the heel of his boots clacked to the other side of the room.
“Do you know what you have done!” She roared thunderously, her slap had a stream of fresh blood dripping down my cheek. “The president wants my head.” Unlocking the cage, she ordered Solomon to follow her out. Too feeble to move, the image of blood pouring out from underneath the door haunting me. The door squealed open, Jack staggered in with bruises all over his face. Leaning down to check up on me, his arms draped me over his shoulder. Too weak to fight back, violent sobs wracked my body. Closing the door to our room, the lock clicked shut. Laying me down on my bed, he collapsed next to me. Burying me in a desperate embrace, my emotions soaked his blood soaked shirt. Apologizing profusely, his finger lifted up my chin.
“It was all an accident.” He wept as hard as I was, several of his friends being caught in the blast. “This isn’t your fault.” Unable to speak, his lips brushed against my forehead. Neither of us spoke of the feelings passing between us, a deep despair silencing our hearts.
Sitting up with a deep gasp of air, the streaks that were stars told me that we were heading home. The medical room greeted me, my frantic eyes flitting between the details. Wiping the tears from my eyes, every breath grew shorter. Violent sobs wracked my body, the memory of my friends getting disintegrated breaking me all over again. Cupping the sides of my head, a broken scream exploded from my lips. Jack burst in, his wet eyes glimmering with relief and a dark worry. Sweeping me into his arms, he buried me into a desperate embrace.
“They died because of me! They died because of me!” I cried into his chest, my breathing growing faster. Hitting his back repeatedly, I wanted to be anywhere but here. Letting me work through my panic attack, his finger lifted up my chin. His tears splashed onto my face, the corner of his lips quivering. Why was I so messed up?
“Like I said before it was an accident.” He assured me with his real smile, my muscles giving out. “You worked yourself up again. My friends died that day but they shut the door so you didn’t die. They knew what they were getting themselves into. I love you with all of my soul and I need you to know that I am here for you.” My tears raced down his arm, the inability to smile back scaring me. Attempting to smile, his head shook.
“Stop trying to smile when you can’t. The depression doesn’t go away but what you are doing is dangerous. You can’t keep shoving it down or things like this will keep happening. Please talk to anyone if it can’t be me.” He pleaded with another one of his loving smiles, his lips pressing against mine tenderly. “Let me see your palm.” Lifting up my palm gingerly, the infected cut oozed. Scooping me into his strong arms, my heart fluttered at how handsome he looked. Gathering his supplies with his free hand, he sat me down on the bed. Working on my wound, something had to be said.
“I hate myself every day. People like Bogs died for me and I can’t live with that.” I admitted brokenly, his lips pursing into a playful smirk. “I want to get better. This depression is drowning me but everyone keeps me going.” Finishing with my wound, his hand cupped my cheek. Jack was my rock and I really needed him in this vulnerable moment.
“I hear you. You aren’t the monster you think you are. We all love you. Get some rest.” He returned sweetly, kissing the top of my head. Turning to leave, I leapt onto his back. Begging for him to take me with him, a warm yes had a bit of life returning to my eyes.