This reddit has been a treasure trove of information and support. We have seen many stories of other families who are enduring a hard, long few months with a reflux baby. Thank you for helping us feel less crazy and like others understand.
In our experience, we found there isn't a lot of helpful information about how to help a baby going through reflux and how to know if your baby might have reflux. So, we wanted to share our experience in hopes that you will feel less alone and maybe encouraged too!
If you want the story, here it is! If not, skip to the bottom section.
Feeding has been a difficult journey since our daughter was born. She lost over 10% of her weight in 2 days (I am told that is normal for breastfed babies). So, the lactation consultants encouraged me to begin pumping after every feed to increase supply, or 12 times a day. I did this for 4 weeks. While my supply eventually came in, feeding continued to be immensely difficult. After 7 lactation appointments and multiple appointments with the pediatrician, we were greatly discouraged. By the time our daughter was 8 weeks old, she would scream every feed and feeds would take close to two hours. Even giving her a bottle of breastmilk would take more than an hour for her to finish. I was ready to throw in the towel on breastfeeding because I was devastated at how difficult it was. Our daughter would scream and cry more than 10 hours a day. It was awful. I also experienced lots of nipple pain around this time, which added to the frustration.
When our daughter was 8 weeks old, our pediatrician referred us to an Occupational Therapist thinking her suck reflex might have issues. We had a 3 hour appointment with the Occupational Therapist who assessed that she did have some issues with tongue positioning when swallowing and a shallow latch, but her assessment was that reflux was the biggest problem our daughter was facing. We began doing exercises for the latch and tongue issues. Because of the OT's assessment, our doctor prescribed Famotidine for our baby. Now, our baby is almost 12 weeks and is very happy! Breastfeeding is one of her favorite things and is a good experience for us both! She eats in under 30 minutes and most feeds are joyful. There are still hard reflux days where she is unhappy and struggles to latch, but overall it is much better!
Here are the top things we learned:

1. We learned the signs of reflux our LO was experiencing. For her reflux looked like: Clearing her throat, latching then quickly unlatching, throwing her head back, crying as if she was in pain, tons of spit up (even 30 minutes after she ate), and she needed to be burped a lot.
   
2. Our baby developed a fear of reflux which led to a fear of eating. She became defensive during nursing, despite her hunger because she was afraid of acid coming up. She also limited her eating because with reflux she would experience more acid when her stomach was full. So, this was a key reason why our LO fought eating. Knowing she was in pain definitely gave me more grace and patience, but it was so sad to discover that she was afraid to eat.
   
3. We began to choose a baby-led feeding position
   

In the hospital, I was taught the football feeding position and was told to smash her face into the boob so she would latch. Many lactation appointments confirmed this. However, for our reflux baby, this added fear because she would try to pull away but I wouldn’t understand her cue. We learned from the occupational therapist that the baby has to trust that I see her cues of struggle so she can regroup before taking in more milk. This meant, we had to do a breastfeeding position where I was not holding her head and where she could have more freedom to pull away as she needed.
For breastfeeding we did a side-by-side position. Where the baby lays on her side right next to me. This gives her the freedom to pull away as needed. Once we rebuilt trust, I was able to do a cross-cradle position. I still do not hold her head. She can pull away as needed.
We also do this with the bottle. We started with her mostly sitting up, leaned against pillows. When reflux started to bother her, she could pull away and then come back when she was ready.

1. With our LO, we developed a mantra: When it doubt, pull it out

Anytime we think LO is having trouble and might cough/choke, we started pulling off the breast or tilting the bottle to give her a break.
For our LO, choking means more frustration and fear of nursing. I was concerned she wouldn’t latch back on, but I found it is much better to give her a break then to push her.

1. Burping

Our LO needed lot of burping. Here's our signs she needed burped immediately: clearing her throat, anytime she starts wiggling a lot, anytime she is choking or coughing, etc.
We got into the habit of always burping every 10mL of the bottle or 4-5 minutes on the breast. I also burp in between sides.

1. Upright positions make a big difference for our LO

We keep her upright for 20 minutes after a feed so she doesn’t have as much burning acid come up. It’s our way of helping her keep it down.
We had to plan when we'd do tummy time and diaper changes so that our LO wasn't at risk of spit-up (or hiccups). We did it before feeds or after holding upright for a while.

1. We learned to use a pacifier or LO's hand to help her keep the reflux down

For our girl, we found the swallow reflex can be used with a "dry nipple" (finger, pacifier, etc) to get her to continually swallow. This helps the reflux stay down for her! You and I do it all the time to keep stomach nasties from coming back up.

1. Celebrate every minute of baby sleep you get

A well rested baby eats so much better. Our LO was much more patient with us during this difficult work of feeding when she had a good nap. Give yourself grace if all you can do is contact naps.

1. Our experience with Famotidine (Pepcid)

We saw some results immediately.
We saw better results after 5 days
We saw great results after 14 days.
All babies cry. This won't change that. But it's nothing like it was before. Our LO does not throw her head back and most feeds are very positive. She's still fussy in the evening, but that can be normal for all babies.
We think we notice when it wears off, right now we're on a single dose per day. The last feed before her dose, she usually struggles. But that's nothing compared to how it was.

1. Help your Dr. by eliminating all uncertainty that it truly is a reflux problem.

We have a great pediatrician! But how do you know if a patient really does need medication when there might be something less drastic that would solve the problem? It really helped our dr. that we gave her a detailed account of the symptoms and timing of our LO's problems. It also helped that we happened to need to bottle feed our LO in front of the dr and it was terrible! The dr could see for herself what it was. I also cut dairy and regulated caffeine early. This helped our dr. be confident that a reflux medication was the best next step. We haven't added dairy back in yet. Just happy things are better right now.

1. Don't be afraid to advocate for you and your baby.

No one will care about your baby as much as you do. Lactation, pediatrics, OT, every professional has a specific purpose and goal that's aligned with what they know best. But YOU are the kid-expert. Trust your gut. If you think something isn't working or your LO isn't alright, advocate. Lactation will hope for a completely breast-fed baby. Which is a wonderful thing. But what's most important is that your baby is happy and healthy no matter how that happens. Formula, pumped, or breast-fed. Many pediatricians will be concerned with the child's development. We hit our milestones, but it came a huge cost of time with 120 minute feeds each time, and very little sleep. Make sure that ALL medical professionals giving you important advice knows your LO's backstory. We made some mistakes with this... That's another post. Taking good notes helped our occupational therapist spot the problem over time.
And when you try new things, get some sort of timeline of how long to try it before there be improvement. Find out if the medication or technique should work after a week or a month. This will help you manage your expectations when you might be feeling hopeless.

1. Know your milestones

It is normal for certain weeks to be challenging. Knowing our milestones helped us understand the full picture of what our LO was experiencing, not just reflux related. And, it gave us hope that some of the misery wouldn't last forever. Haha.
Non reflux-related breastfeeding lessons

1. Pump-related

I hurt so bad from pumping and I assumed that was normal. I went through weeks of blanched nipples and very significant nipple pain only to discover I wasn't pumping correctly! Make sure to measure your nipples for your flange size. If you are working with a lactation consultant, they can help with this. Also, I learned to check the breast pump manual to learn about the settings. I have now made some adjustments to the settings. Now that I have discovered these things, my nipple pain has gone away.

1. Shame when breastfeeding isn't working

I experienced a lot of shame and guilt when breastfeeding wasn't going well. I thought I was a terrible mom and I felt embarrassed that something that should be natural and easy was a nightmare. That led me down all kinds of destructive thoughts, fearing that I wouldn't be a good mom moving forward because this area was hard. I had to learn to reframe things. I had to start to see that any volume of milk my reflux LO got was a win. I had to discipline myself to not compare myself to other moms who could breastfeed in public for less than 10 minutes while I had to make sure to feed in the car, knowing my LO would take over an hour and cry nonstop. I had to learn that if a feed wasn't going well, it isn't a failure to decide to offer a bottle to help LO fill up more quickly. Honestly, I had to learn to lay aside my expectations and do what worked. And, I had to have my identity not wrapped around breastfeeding and my child's success. Just as my LO struggled in this area, she will struggle with more things in the future. I will be a better mom if I can love her through it without feeling shame for where she is at. Having a supportive, loving husband greatly helped when I wanted to throw in the towel. I also found that talking with my counselor and having a space to remember the truth about my baby (i.e. her struggling to breastfeed is because of the reflux, not because I am a bad mom), greatly helped my mental health and my relationship with my baby.
It is the end of week 11 for us and it has changed dramatically for the better! We are on week 3 of the Famotidine. Our baby smiles all the time and is a joy to be around. I am beginning to like being a mom, which I couldn't imagine 2 weeks ago. People say things get better at week 12 and we didn't believe them. We felt hopeless. For us, it actually did get better. But, we know that isn't everyone's story. Regardless of how long you have been struggling with a reflux baby, it is incredibly hard on the whole family. And, I don't know when it will get better for you. My prayer is that it will get better for you very soon because it sucks and is awful. In the meantime, I hope this post helps in some way or at least helps you know that someone else in the world gets where you are coming from.

Sitting here, in this chair, it's hard to believe the view from my window used to be the endless stretch of the city. Now, it's all trees, hills, and the most picturesque town you could ever imagine. They call it Big Sky, right outside Yellowstone, which suits it perfectly. I've been here for six months, and honestly, I've never been happier to be out of the city.
But I don't think I deserve this peace after what happened. Ten years I spent as a cop in LA with little to no incident. That's why they only fired me, I suppose. Ten years and one day, I made a mistake that changed everything.
I responded to a bank robbery call, and half of the force was downtown in seconds. With no clear leadership, chaos ensued. I'm not sure who shot first, but it triggered an eruption of bullets toward the robbers.
We're trained to react in a second to situations like this. So, after only five seconds, every gun was empty. For some reason, I paused. I didn't pull the trigger. When I realized what had happened, I panicked and shot at the first thing I saw move while everyone else was reloading.
It was a mother and her daughter trying to run away from the shots. Everything stopped in my life at that moment. I saw every cop's eyes on me; some were confused, but some who realized what happened had a look of sympathy.
The media frenzy was insane, and I don't think I'll ever fully recover mentally. I've grown my beard, and my hair is longer than usual. I've successfully gone under the radar, except when I tell someone my full name. I can sense their looks of disgust, even though they never say anything.
There's not a night that I don't see the mother and her daughter in my dreams. Their faces haunt me, and their screams echo in my mind.
It's funny how things change, you know? One minute, you're a cop; the next, you're a park ranger. Well, not really a park ranger; more of a forest ranger. The forest's solitude amplifies the guilt that gnaws at me every day. Every rustle in the leaves and every gust of wind feels like a reminder of what I did. And yet, I can't bring myself to leave. It's as though I'm punishing myself, living in this quiet, isolated place where my only company is the ghosts of my past mistakes. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking about what their lives would have been like if I hadn't made that fatal mistake. Would they still be alive, laughing, and enjoying life? The weight of their loss is a burden I cannot shake.
Out here in Big Sky, it's not like dealing with bears and mountain lions; it's mostly just tourists lost in the woods and the occasional poacher. And then there are the kids... God, the kids. They're always sneaking into places they shouldn't be, trying to find a thrill.
The air is clean, the sky is blue, and the trees stretch for miles in every direction. The only time you see a cop around here is when they're escorting a senior citizen across the road.
And then, just like that, everything changed. Two hikers went missing. At first, it was just another day. I went about my rounds and checked in on the usual hotspots. But then I saw their faces. They were young, probably in their early twenties. Their faces were plastered across every news channel and every billboard in town. It was almost as if they were haunting me.
The first few days were chaotic. Search parties were organized, and the entire force was called to help find them. But as time passed, and there was no sign of them, the search began to die. It was as if everyone had accepted the fact that they were gone.
I couldn't help but feel a weight on my chest every time I saw their faces. It was like they were a constant reminder of my own failures. I tried to push the thoughts away to focus on the task, but it was impossible.
The search parties continued, and with every passing day, the hope of finding them alive dwindled. It felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for a miracle. But deep down, I knew that miracle was unlikely to come.
And with each passing day, the guilt weighed heavier, sinking me deeper into despair. Every time I looked at the faces of those missing hikers, it felt like a punch to the gut. Their disappearance was a haunting echo of my failure, a stark reminder of the lives I had unintentionally shattered. The knowledge that my hesitation and mistake led to this tragedy was a burden I could hardly bear. It felt like I was carrying the weight of their absence on my shoulders, and no amount of searching could alleviate the guilt that consumed me.
I decided to go where the hikers were last seen along the trail. They'd passed another group of hikers around the five-mile marker, but who knows how far and in what direction they have gone since their last sighting.
As I get to mile marker 5, I notice a tree that looks freshly fallen. The inside was splintered with fresh, healthy lumber in the middle of the tree like someone or something had pushed or fallen on it. I went to investigate and noticed large footprints leading further into the woods, but I'd never seen anything out in these woods big enough to create something this large. My mind immediately went to dinosaurs, but I quickly shook that off.
The footprint was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Enormous and ominous, it stretched deep into the earth, leaving a chilling impression of what had passed through the forest. Each claw mark was etched deeply into the soil, as though whatever creature had left it had tremendous power behind each step. For a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. It was a footprint like that of a wolf but far larger and more menacing, a stark reminder that things in these woods were far beyond my understanding.
With a shiver, I followed the footprints' trail into the woods, my heart racing. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step, as though some immense weight was pressing down upon me. The trees seemed to close in, forming a menacing canopy overhead, blocking the sunlight and casting the forest into a cold, eerie twilight.
The footprints led me to a small clearing, where I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart leaped into my throat as I whirled around, but there was nothing but a small opening for a cave on the side of the mountain.
I walk closer to peer in, but it's too dark to see anything. I contemplate using my phone light when I hear a huge thud in the trees behind me. I turn quickly, but I can't see anything. Thinking I was too paranoid, I decided to walk back to the path. I walk past the spot where I thought I heard the thud, and it looks like a fresh pair of prints. I have to be going crazy. I return to the path and make it to the station as the sun sets.
I can't stop thinking about those footprints and that cave. As I lay in bed later that night, every time I fall asleep, I dream about the entrance to the cave and the two hikers screaming for help inside. It's like there's an invisible wall preventing them from escaping. I see their faces better as I approach and realize it's the mother and daughter I shot in LA. I wake up covered in sweat every time.
The following day, I asked Lauren, one of my coworkers and the only person who treats me like I'm not an outsider from a secret club.
"You should ask Henry; he can access any record we've ever kept. Maybe he can find something about the cave in that clearing." She told me.
"You think he'll help? Since I've arrived, everyone has been so distant, like they're hiding something from me." I reply, hoping she feels enough sympathy to ask Henry herself.
No luck as she replies, "Yeah! Henry's a good one. Look, you've only been here, what, six months? Give it time; I know people will warm up to you."
"Thanks, Lauren," I say, disappointed, as I head to Henry's office. He's been here longer than anyone, so he must know something. When I knock on his door, he looks up at me over his glasses as wrinkles form inquisitively on his forehead. I wait for a greeting, but it never comes; there is only an awkward silence before I break it.
"Hey Henry, how's it going?" I ask awkwardly
Henry sighs and leans back in his chair as he folds his arms, waiting for me to ask him to do his job.
"Um, yeah, so I found this small cave entrance near the Hart Trail. I saw a tree that must've just been torn down from the middle a few days before I arrived, and I saw these giant, weird-looking footprints. I followed them, and I found the cave entrance. Do you know anything about that cave?" I ask, hoping he'll be more willing to help.
Henry's unamused look faded the more I told the story. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk, looks up at me, and says, "Nope."
I waited for him to expand, but once again, he left me to marinade in the awkwardness.
"I mean, can you look at least? And even if it's not recorded, don't you think you'd want to put it on record?" I ask, annoyed at his unwillingness to act like he wanted to help.
My frowns and sits back in his chair and says, "Are you telling me how to do my job, rookie? I've been here longer than most of these townsfolks were even conceived," He started to raise his voice the more he talked, "and you come in here after what you did to that poor mother and daughter. Yeah, you didn't think anyone knew?" I knew people were aware, but hearing him say it, it stabbed through my chest like a serrated knife made of ice.
Realizing that he has lost his temper, he calms himself and cleans off his glasses, "Get permission from Forest Supervisor Reggie, and I'll be your personal Google." He looks back down at his computer and continues doing whatever he does.
Still stunned, I stand there, not knowing how to react to this interaction. After a few seconds, I slowly turn around and return to my desk.
The rest of the day is a blur as I try to focus on my other tasks, but Henry's words keep replaying. Every time I close my eyes, I see the footprints and the tree that was torn down. Everyone in this office knows something they aren't telling me.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I muster up the courage to go see Reggie. I knock on his door, and he calls me in. He's an older man with white hair and a kind smile.
"Sir, I-" I say, but before I can continue, Reggie puts his hand up to stop me from talking and chuckles.
"Please, just call me Reg. Sir, sounds like we're in the military." He said as he placed his hand down on his desk.
A little thrown off, I continued telling him about the tree off the hiking trail, footprints, and the cave I found. Just like Henry, Reggie's face dropped as I explained. He stares at me briefly before fixing his face and responding, "Oh, yeah, that sounds like old Grungers Cave. It's probably recorded somewhere."
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Henry said I needed your permission to get more information about the cave." I reply
He looks at me, puzzled and weary, "What kind of information are you looking for, exactly?"
"Well, I don't really know yet. Something about it gave me a weird feeling, so I thought I'd look into it." I said
Reggie looked at me briefly before changing gears, "With all due respect, you don't have anything else to do?"
I was caught off guard, not expecting him to shut me down like that, "Yeah, you're right. Sorry sir, Uh, Reggie."
I turned around and left the room. As I thought of how to get information without letting anyone at the station know, I decided to try the library.
The library is quiet, with a few people here and there doing their own thing. I asked the librarian if they had anything on Grungers Cave, and she directed me to the local history section. I spend hours pouring over old newspapers, books, and archives, trying to find anything to help me.
One book, written by a local historian, has some information on the cave. According to the author, Grungers Cave was found in 1917 and nothing in particular sticks out except for a short passage that briefly mentions local tales about a giant creature who is said to live near this cave. After about an hour, I gave up and decided to go out there again to see for myself, making sure to bring a flashlight.
As I drive back to the trailhead, I wonder if the stories about the giant creature were just a cover-up for something else. Maybe there was something else in that cave that people didn't want found. Tonight, I'm going to find out.
It's getting dark as I return to the hiking trail and the cave. I can see my breath as I walk, and the air is crisp and cold. The trees loom overhead, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. I can almost feel the presence of whatever has been haunting me since I found that footprint.
I take a deep breath and steady my nerves as I approach the cave entrance. The entrance is narrow and covered in moss, making it appear almost organic. I flick on my flashlight and step inside, bracing myself for what I might find.
The cave's interior is more extensive than I expected, with jagged stalactites hanging from the ceiling like teeth and jutting stalagmites rising from the floor around me like bones. I move further in, feeling a sense of dread creeping up. There's an unsettling silence here, broken only by the echo of my footsteps and the distant sound of water dripping from above.
I shine my flashlight around, searching for anything unusual, and my eyes fall on a large, irregular shape half-hidden in the shadows. As I approach, my heart starts to race. It's a pile of bones, human bones. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. This is a crime scene.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I carefully move around the cave, finding more and more evidence of foul play. The further I go, the more confident I am that something terrible happened here. The bones of at least four people are scattered about, and there are signs of struggle everywhere. I try to remain calm, but I can feel my breath coming faster and faster.
Suddenly, I feel the air get thick as I hear the rumble of big footsteps in the shadows before me. My heart pounds against my ribs as I realize what's about to happen. Before I can react, the creature lunges at me, its massive form filling my vision. Its skin is pale and rough, covered in dirty and matted fur covered in moss and twigs, like it's been living in these caves for centuries. It's a monster, a beast that shouldn't exist in the modern world.
I manage to dodge out of the way, but it's not fast enough to escape its grasp entirely. The creature's claws rake down my arm, tearing through my jacket and leaving long, deep gashes that fill with blood. I stumble backward, feeling the cold, hard stone of the cave floor beneath me. My heart is racing, and all I can hear is the sound of my own panicked breathing.
The creature looms over me, its putrid breath washing over my face as it growls low in its throat. Its eyes are like two burning coals, glinting in the light of my flashlight. It's not human, not anymore. Whatever this creature was once, it's been twisted and warped by whatever horrors it's faced in these caves.
I try to stand, but my legs are weak and shaking. The pain in my arm is excruciating, and I can feel warm blood trickling down my side. The creature circles around me slowly, claws clicking against the stone floor. It seems to be studying me, sizing me up. I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't even scream.
It turns its back, and I take a moment to get on my feet and run out of the cave, hearing the creature's roar echo against the cave walls. I can hear its giant footsteps getting closer and closer until I finally reach the entrance and throw myself out. The creature doesn't follow as I sigh in relief on the floor.
Shaking uncontrollably, I try to catch my breath as I look at my bloody arm. The cut is deep, but I don't think it's life-threatening. I need to get out of here and call for backup, but first, I must find something to use as a tourniquet. I look around and spot a nearby tree, its branches laden with vines. I rip some of the vines off and quickly tie them around my arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
Once I'm sure I've done what I can, I return to the station, my heart pounding. My vision is blurry from the pain and shock, but I manage to make it to the front desk. I collapse into a chair, trying to catch my breath. The receptionist looks at me with wide eyes, concerned for my well-being.
"What happened?" she asks, her voice shaking. "Are you okay?"
I try to calm my breathing before responding. "I...I think so. But I need to tell you what I found." I gesture to my bloodied arm, and she jumps to her feet, looking horrified. "No, no, it's not as bad as it looks. Just...get a first aid kit."
She practically runs out of the room, and I lean back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment. When she returns, she carefully cleans, stitches, and bandages my arm, all the while listening to my story. I told her everything that had happened, but I could tell that she didn't believe me.
"You're sure you didn't imagine this?" she asks, her voice filled with doubt. You should get some rest and reconsider your story in the morning.
I nod, trying to convince myself as much as her. "I know what I saw. It wasn't a dream, and it wasn't a hallucination. That thing...it wasn't an animal. It was some sort of Monster. And it's still out there."
She sighs, looking unconvinced. "Look, I'm sure you've been through a lot tonight. Why don't you just go home and get some rest? We can deal with this in the morning, okay?"
Reluctantly, I agree and head home, hoping word doesn't get around to Reggie that I went back. The rest of the night passes in a blur of nightmares and restless sleep. I can't shake the image of that creature from my mind, and every time I close my eyes, I see its razor-sharp claws and ravenous yellow eyes.
When I finally muster the courage to return to the station the following day, I find that the receptionist didn't report my little expedition after all. Maybe she thought I was crazy too. I feel a strange relief as if admitting my story would make it real.
I make my way to my desk, still shaken from the events of the night before. The station is bustling with activity as usual, but it's difficult for me to focus on anything but the Monster. I try to convince myself that it was just a dream, a hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion.
I went through my day on autopilot, trying to make it through my shift. When I went home, it was only 8, but I went to sleep as soon as my ass hit the couch. I had dreams of the creature and what it could do to me. I woke up in a cold sweat; looking at the clock, it said 2:03am. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so I decided to start my morning early by brewing some coffee.
The Monster still plagued my mind as I showered and groomed for the day. I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the injury on my arm itching slightly as I pulled a long-sleeved shirt on to hide them. I didn't want to draw more attention to myself than I already had.
I decided to head to the station since I had nothing else to do. As I drive, I start concocting a plan to get the information from Henry. I knew he wouldn't be in for a few more hours so I could snoop around his office. I park my car and go to his office; I take a deep breath and slowly open the door. The room is just like I remember, messy and full of clues. I sit at his desk, feeling guilty but determined to find what I need to know.
I begin by searching through his files, looking for anything that might have a connection to the secret society. Finding a few files with suspicious names and symbols doesn't take me long. As I flip through them, I notice a hidden drawer in the desk. I pull it open and find a stack of even more incriminating files. They're filled with names, dates, and locations of people who have disappeared, all linked to something called The Covenant of the Hound. I feel a mixture of fear and determination as I slip the files into my bag.
With the evidence in hand, I know I have to do something about this. I can't just ignore it and hope it goes away. I decided to see if I could find anything else on The Covenant of the Hound. I search the dusty shelves and find an old, leather-bound book. The title page reads: "The Covenant of the Hound: Values".
I carefully open the book, expecting to find some twisted code or hidden message. Instead, I'm met with seemingly innocuous paragraphs about loyalty, obedience, and protection. As I read on, however, a darker undertone begins to emerge. The Covenant seems to be less about helping others and more about controlling them. There are mentions of ancient rituals and bloodlines and a monster demanding complete submission from his followers. In return, the Monster provides protection from any threats brought to the members. This had to be the Monster I saw in the cave.
Shaken by what I've read, I quickly close the book and put everything back in place. I can't help but feel a sense of dread as I make it to my desk. I know that I have to do something about this, but at the same time, my mind is running about who exactly is a part of the Covenant.
I decided to start with the files I found earlier and see if I could find any connections between the names on the list and Henry's friends or acquaintances. As I searched through the files, I came across Henry's note that he was meeting someone important early in the morning at a local diner. The time said 4:30am, an hour away. I decide to find the diner and wait for them.
I drive to the diner, parking my car discreetly down the street as I wait until I see them. I watch Henry's car pull up, and another person pulls up behind him. They exchange words before Henry hands something over, and the other man leaves. Henry returned to his car, likely heading to the station, so I did the same.
As I follow him, I can't help but feel a sense of dread in my stomach. I don't know what I will do, but I know I can't let him get away with whatever he's involved in. Maybe if I confront him, he'll tell me the truth. Perhaps he's not part of it, and this was a misunderstanding. But then, why did he have those files on his desk? And why did he meet that man at the diner? I decide to keep the information to myself and act like I know nothing as I park my car at the station.
I walk into the station, trying to act casual and approach the locker room. There's a strange atmosphere in the air today; everyone seems on edge. I quickly change into my uniform and head to my patrol car, hoping to avoid awkward conversations.
As I drive through the forest, I can't help but feel a sense of unease. Every shadow, every movement, every sound makes me jump. I try to push these thoughts away, telling myself that I'm just being paranoid.
When I get to my post, I notice Lauren sitting in her car. Was she waiting for me?
I get out and knock on her window to get her attention, and she rolls it down.
"Hey, you okay?" Lauren asks, noticing the look on my face.
I take a deep breath and try to compose myself before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I think I might have made a huge mistake." I tell her about finding the files in Henry's desk and seeing him at the diner earlier, giving something to a mysterious person. I leave out the part about the Covenant, just in case.
Lauren listens intently, her eyes narrowing as I speak. "And you think Henry's involved in something shady?" she asks.
I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and anger. "I don't know what to think, but I know I can't ignore it."
Lauren sighs, her expression softening. "Look, I can't confirm or deny anything, but I can tell you this: if you're worried about Henry, you should stay away from him. He's not who he seems."
I nod, feeling a mix of relief and fear. "What about you? Can I trust you?"
Lauren gives me a small smile. "You can trust me. I've been watching out for you, even before all this. I want to help you, but we need to be careful. The people you're dealing with are dangerous."
I nod, still not entirely sure what to think. "What do I do now?"
Lauren looks around, making sure no one is watching us. "We need to be careful. I can help you, but you need to trust me. And you need to understand that this goes deeper than you think. The people you're dealing with are powerful and dangerous."
"How do you know that?" I ask hesitantly.
"Let's just say I have my sources," Lauren replies cryptically. "Now, listen carefully. You need to keep your guard up at all times. The people you're dealing with are smart, and they're watching you. They'll try to make contact again, probably through someone close to you. You can't trust anyone."
As she says this, I can't help but feel a chill run down my spine. "So, what am I supposed to do? Just wait for them to make the first move?"
Lauren shakes her head. "No, you need to be proactive. You need to find out more about this secret society. You need to find out what they want from you and why they're after you. You need to figure out how to stop them. If my research is correct, we need to kill the Monster."
I take a deep breath, my heart racing. "Kill the Monster? What do you mean?"
"The secret society is called the Covenant," Lauren explains. "It's been around for generations, and it's behind some of the most horrific events in the town's history. They're led by a man called the Master, who you saw at the diner earlier. He has a pet name for the creature: the Dogman."
I don't know what to do with this information. Ironically, I trust her less now that I'm aware she has ties to this Covenant; even if they're loose ties, it still makes me weary. I try to gather my thoughts, but my mind feels like puzzle pieces. "So, what's our plan?" I ask, not seeing any other direction to turn.
Lauren leans in closer, her expression serious. "Our plan is to kill the monster."
I get into her cruiser, and we drive toward the cave, not knowing if I will make it past today alive.
"I don't understand why they're after me," I say as Lauren navigates the narrow path to the cave. "What do they want from me?"
"You know too much, James, and they know it. You've been asking questions about things you shouldn't have. You were getting close to something they've been trying to keep hidden for a long time. They want to control the information, and they can't do that if you keep digging." Lauren says as she parks the car, and we both get out.
She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. "They're not going to let you go easily. They'll come after you again, and getting away might not be easy next time. We need to be prepared. You need to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself."
I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and determination welling up inside me. "Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. "Then let's do this."
We approached the entrance to the cave, and I quickly set up bear traps that Lauren had stored in her cruiser. Lauren watches me intently, offering advice and suggestions when needed. As I work, I can't help but feel a strange sense of purpose, as if everything in my life has been leading up to this moment.
Once the traps are set, we both step back, our hearts pounding in our chests, "Now, we just wait." Lauren said
Hours have passed as we sit in a bush, out of sight, and still no creature or signs of anything. Lauren, ever so patiently, is chewing on her fingernails, making my stomach turn. I look at her, and she looks back at me, worry etched on her face. We've been sitting here for an eternity, and I'm curious if I've made the wrong choice. I should have run away, hidden somewhere, and tried to forget about this whole mess. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm not supposed to leave this place, that there's something more I need to do.
Hours pass as we tell each other our life stories. I must admit, at some points, I'd forgotten the danger we were in and found myself having fun. Lauren's an interesting person. She's lived a life of adventure. She's seen things that I can't even begin to imagine. And yet, here she is, sitting beside me, waiting for a monster to come out of a cave.
My eyes grow heavy as the sun starts to set. It's completely night when I open my eyes, and I panic, forgetting where I was and why. As it all starts coming back to me, I look for Lauren, but I don't see her anywhere. I get up, trying to stay quiet, to look at the traps. One is closed and has a blood trail leading to the cave entrance. I frantically look for Lauren but still don't see her. As I peer into the cave, I can see light flickering like the cave was lined with torches the further you go in. I continued to follow the torches with my flashlight in hand when I heard an uneven sound of giant footsteps behind me. When I turn around, I see the vast creature limping into the cave, so I find a crevasse to hide in.
As I carefully peer out, I see the creature limping slowly, periodically stopping to lick its wound. I try to shallow my breath and stay as quiet as possible. The light flickers brighter as it draws closer, and I can see it better now. It's massive, with skin like burnt leather and eyes that glow with an eerie yellow light. Its limbs are like a twisted and deformed wolf, moving with a strange, jerky grace.
As I carefully shift my weight, a small pebble, just big enough to make a noise, tumbles. The creature jerks its body in my direction and roars. It sounds like a mixture of a human screaming and a lion roaring. It takes a step closer to me, its yellow eyes piercing the darkness. I try calming my breathing, praying it doesn't hear or smell me. The creature takes another step and another, inching closer with each move. My heart feels like it's going to beat right out of my chest. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to face this creature in a fair fight.
Just as I'm sure it's close enough to smell me, I hear what I can only assume is Lauren screaming at the top of her lungs. The creature quickly limps away, further into the cave. I'm momentarily relieved but then realize that I have to find her. I carefully follow the creature's trail, hoping it leads to Lauren. The cave winds deeper and deeper into the mountain, the air growing colder and more damp. As I round a bend, I see a flickering light in the distance. My heart pounds in my chest as I cautiously approach, wondering if it's Lauren or the society.
I enter a pitch-black round room. As I swing my flashlight, I can't see anything in the room until I hear Lauren whisper, "Pssst, James."
I go toward the sound, but I can't find anything. When I turn around, my flashlight catches the creature before me as it lunges toward me. I was able to jump out of the way, just in time, but he was able to scratch my cheek a bit, but nothing life-threatening. On the ground, I frantically search for something to defend myself with, and I find a sharp, long rock and pick it up.
I looked up and saw the creature lunging at me again, but this time, I wasn't fast enough to move as it grabbed me with one hand, tightly by my waist. It lifts me up to its face, but before it can do anything, I plunge the rock into its left eye as it drops me onto the floor.
It roars and stumbles around as it runs into the walls, falling to its knees periodically. I slide my body on my butt until I hit a wall. I get to my feet and follow the wall, making sure to avoid the stumbling creature. I finally found an entrance, but it's different from where I came in. Finally gaining composure, the creature sees me leave and stumbles toward me. I run deeper into the new tunnel, praying it leads to safety.
I hear voices further into it, and I sprint as I make my way into a room of about eight individuals dressed in brown cloaks. Some of them have a hood, hiding their faces. Startled by my entrance, they all look up, and I recognize most faces. Reggie, Henry, Freddy the theater owner, Larry the elementary school principal, and the most surprising one, Lauren.
One of the men I didn't recognize, who looked to be the leader, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the loud footsteps limping is heard echoing toward us. The man smiles wide and relaxes himself, likely confident he controls the creature. As I hear the footsteps, I run toward what I assume was the exit, but I'm tackled to the ground, and everyone cheers and laughs.
I look up and see Lauren on top of me, the one who tackled me. Her smile is horrifying and not at all like the Lauren I know. She leans close, her breath hot on my face as she whispers, "I'm sorry, James. I had to do it." The creature enters the room, still stumbling as it accidentally crushes two members under its foot, not seeing what it is doing. The leader begins screaming mysterious words that I can't remember, which seems like it snapped the creature out of its destructive ways for a second before realizing the pain in its eye again.
It continues destroying everything in its path indiscriminately, killing most of the Covenant members. Lauren was still on top of me, and neither of us was moving in shock about what we saw. I snapped out of it and used the moment to get the advantage, so I grabbed a nearby rock and hit Lauren over the head with it, causing her to fall to the ground, still conscious but unmoving. I run toward the exit, but I look back one more time and see the creature tearing bodies apart as blood and the screams of something I've never heard in my life fill the room.
As I run, I can faintly hear Lauren begging me to help her, but it turns into a blood-curdling scream that echoes in my ears to this day. Finding my way out took about half an hour, as the cave was like a maze. When I make it out, I head to Lauren's cruiser and dig through her stuff, hoping to find something to help destroy the cave entrance. Finally, after too many minutes, I see a pickaxe, which, thinking about it now, looks pretty odd. But then again, Lauren was never the person I thought she was.
I use the pick and attempt to remove enough rock on the sides so the top will cave in and cover the entrance. I was doing this for about 45 minutes when I heard the faded, limping footsteps of that creature heading out of the cave toward me. I hurried my pace, but I'd already done a good amount of work on both sides. My arms are starting to give, but my mind won't let them quit as I hear the footsteps, which are now accompanied by the roar and growl of the creature getting closer. I only have about 5 more minutes until it makes it to me.
As the growl gets louder, I finally remove enough rock, and it all comes tumbling down on top of the entrance, sealing it shut. I fall backward onto the ground, exhausted and out of breath, as the growling gets louder. When it finally reaches the caved entrance, I can hear it howling and roaring in anger.
Looking around, I see I'm now at the forest's edge. I stand up and walk away, still in shock at what had happened, not knowing where to go.
Walking, I feel something warm and sticky dripping down my arm. I look at it in horror and realize that it's blood. I've been wounded, somehow. I try to remember if it was from Lauren or the creature, but my mind is still reeling from the night's events.
I keep walking, figuring out where to go or what to do. The forest around me is eerily quiet, almost as if it's holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The trees loom overhead, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. I try to remain calm and focus on my surroundings, but the adrenaline from the attack keeps pumping through my veins.
I look down at my arm again and see that the blood is still seeping out, staining my shirt and dripping onto the forest floor. The pain begins to set in, and I realize I have no idea how badly I'm hurt. I can't get to a hospital in time; hell, I don't even know where I am. Feeling weak, I sit with my back against a tree and slowly fall asleep.
When I wake up, I'm in a hospital surrounded by doctors. I feel an immense pain in my arm as they wheel me into the ER. I pass out again and wake up four days later.
Doctors tell me that another ranger found me and brought me in. My heart sank as I thought of the possibility of the Covenant saving me for some reason. I started to panic and asked about discharge, but they told me that they had to do surgery on my arm since it had gotten too infected.
Long story short, I had to be sedated for a month straight, and I lost my arm. Every day, every moment I wasn't sedated was filled with panic. I dreamt of the creature and Lauren. The creature scared me, but Lauren's betrayal hurt me the most. I know I didn't know her for long, but she was the only one there for me. I now realize that she was probably planted to ensure I stayed away, and when she realized I wasn't going to back down, she led me to a trap.
The doctors kept telling me I was lucky to be alive, but I didn't feel lucky. I felt like a failure. A month passed, and I finally fully woke up from the sedation, feeling restless and angry. I demanded a discharge, and after hours of arguing, I was back on the streets.
That was eight years ago, and I still dream of the creature and Lauren every night. Whenever I have trouble with my missing arm, I think of them. At this point in my head, they have become the same Monster.

Good Day Plumbers
We have a house in Fresno that are under rehabilitation. Sprinkler system is being finalized but our fire contractor wont be able to help us with the plumbing connections from our well (65 ft from the house) which will serve as the main water supply for our house and fire sprinkler system.
Our house is outside city limits and more likely doesn't have any available fire hydrant serviceable somewhere so with our fire sprinkler the Fire Dept required us to have a draft system for them to connect to. We have an existing well pump in place and piping for water main but the yield just falls at 5 gpm so as per multiple contractors we would need a water tank for the house so we bought a 2500 gallon. My question is how do I know what correct size of storage tank to use to serve the house, sprinkler system and fire department?
I hope you can help me out because I've called several plumbers and fire contractors. Some of them are saying the 2500 gallon is enough, others are saying that could only cover the fire dept side and we'd need 5000 gallons. others are saying 3500 gallon.
Would love to hear your thoughts or experiences thank you very much.

Good Day Plumbers
We have a house in Fresno that are under rehabilitation. Sprinkler system is being finalized but our fire contractor wont be able to help us with the plumbing connections from our well (65 ft from the house) which will serve as the main water supply for our house and fire sprinkler system.
Our house is outside city limits and more likely doesn't have any available fire hydrant serviceable somewhere so with our fire sprinkler the Fire Dept required us to have a draft system for them to connect to. We have an existing well pump in place and piping for water main but the yield just falls at 5 gpm so as per multiple contractors we would need a water tank for the house so we bought a 2500 gallon. My question is how do I know what correct size of storage tank to use to serve the house, sprinkler system and fire department?
I hope you can help me out because I've called several plumbers and fire contractors. Some of them are saying the 2500 gallon is enough, others are saying that could only cover the fire dept side and we'd need 5000 gallons. others are saying 3500 gallon.
Would love to hear your thoughts or experiences thank you very much.

We have a 2S+Basement brick colonial in the Atlanta area (US zone 3). The house was built in 1970 and originally had a large monolithic forced air gas heat and AC system. That setup was all gutted and replaced with two (one for basement and lower floor, one for upper) heat pump systems, encapsulated the attic, and made various other improvements to the envelope. It's still fairly "leaky" but much improved over 10 years ago. There are some moisture issues in certain areas and we have to run the A/C more in the shoulder seasons than I'd like. Allergens are also a concern, so every little bit helps.
I'd like to add ducted whole-home dehumidification to either one or both of the existing systems and other than how to plumb them am a little stuck. The current ducting is in good shape and well balanced. I would probably implement dedicated return and supply into the existing supply trunk with a backflow damper. Do I worry about the existing systems or just take some readings on temp/humidity, etc and do some volumetric calculations? I'm not sure where to start other than the "hey, that number in the brochure is about how big my house is" kind of math.
My gut is leaning towards something like a SanteFe Ultra 70 or 98 for each of the systems. Is there really such a thing as "oversizing" an application or are quality units variable and you just end up with a bit of wasted capacity and higher cost (but no real performance downside) similar to a variable heat-pump with excess capacity?
Input on how to go about evaluating my needs would be a huge help.

I'm a 3rd year apprentice service plumber and am thinking about switching to a different trade. I'm considering refrigeration and boiler maintenance/install.
I think what draws me to this trade is the fact that you can work alone (how soon?), the general challenges of diagnosing and fixing something and I'm wondering how decent the money is as well.
I'm frankly getting a little bored with plumbing. I understand the systems that I work on. I just started with a new company and they unfortunately decided to pair me with someone who has less than half my experience and he's the "technician". So they pay me $22/hr. to train him, meanwhile I'm not building skills and am bored out of my mind. I could always memorize which shower cartridges go with what valve, but I think it would be wiser to gain a good understanding of the refrigeration cycle (which I know I can do) and apply that to my skillset.
This is the second plumbing company I've worked for and I've found it hard to get good training past a certain point. I learned a lot by making mistakes. I've found that the veteran guys will get put together because they can finish jobs faster and the newer guys seem to work together.
I do a lot of diagnostics on water heaters and sewage ejector pumps, so I know how to use a multimeter in a basic way. I went to a brief trade school for service plumbing and it helped me immensely. A lot of folks say that field experience is the only way, but I disagree. I believe that some learning is better suited to the classroom or living room. Something about being graded was a huge motivator for me to memorize wiring diagrams, troubleshooting steps, tolerances, whatever.
I could test for my license in NC immediately if I wanted to, or if I wanted to test for a national journeyman's, I could have it in 3 years. I'm not attached to being licensed in anything, I just want to earn a good income. I'd go back to school for an intensive program if it's worth it.
I'm 33 and single, so I'd be good with some late/on call work, but it's not something I'd like to make a habit of long-term.
Being in the South, I've never been involved with a labor union, but I'd be curious to know if there are any purely refrigeration unions. Would that just go along with pipefitting/HVAC?
I think it would also help me if I knew whether there were companies hiring directly from reefer programs and if so, would they guarantee a certain pay floor with a good grade?
I appreciate any tips you all have. Thanks!

Thank you to Space paladin for the canvas and u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for proofreading and critique
Content warning; Educator abuse and syrupy love
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]
Memory transcript: Maarchal , MESEA Astronomers. Date: [Standard Farsul calendar ] January 26th, 3667
PLUNCK
Ponthyts blue stick clattered on the board, rolling around in a circle. Before settling on three. He then pumps his paw and moves to move a soldier that many paces.
“Well, I got you cornered now, whatcha going to do about it?” I smirk at Ponthyts soon to be dashed confidence as I take out my red stick and flip in the air much higher than he did with his own.
It hits the board with a loud clatter, bouncing on each end before settling on rolling. To which it landed on seven. I move my last interceptor through his ranks and take his general. The gobsmacked look on his features was evident, with his previously wagging tail so still it made stone seem fluid.
“I win.”
“How did you do that?”
I rolled my shoulders and readjusted my legs underneath. “Well, you left a clear path for my interceptor.” I pointed to the gaps in his remaining pieces.
“I know that! I mean how did you know you'd get a high enough number to do that? Your interceptor was all the way back here and it's your last red piece!!!”
I lean my head back and lean against the wall behind me. “I didn't, I just saw an opportunity and took it.”
He pointed a digit at me “ Mershit, that was some grandmaster trap!”
I give him the ear position of resignation with a mirthful little grin. “I promise you it was just luck.”
He waves his paw dismissively. “I don't believe you.”
“Well believe it, because I don't plan ahead like that. Want to play another game?”
He shakes his head. “Nah I think four games is enough for one night.” He begins moving the pieces into their containers and folds up the board and places it on top of them. Closing the box. He then stands up and offers me his paw, I use it to pull myself up off the floor.“Well Maarchal, I’ll see you tomorrow at the observatory. I’ll bring the set if you want to play it during lunch if you want.”
I froze, “what! What time is it? He turns over to look at the clock above his strove.
“Ahh about Fifteen minutes past 18.”
“Uh, that's not that late! We could play another game! C’mon let's have a tie breaker!”
He rubs his eyes, “I’m tired and we have work in the morning. Is there something you're avoiding?”
I rub my upper right arm and look off into the corner. “...”
He took on a worried look, “Why don't you want to go home Maarchal?”
I sighed and took a seat at his dining room table. “I… I don't like that house, I’ve lived there since I moved to LIghra six years ago but it's not a… home like here.”
I looked around at the messy abode. Dirty cloaks were strewn about on the back of chairs and the rubbish trough was just barely not overflowing. Paintings either from family or Ponthyts own paw were hanged up in the hallways, and the lightbulbs cast a warm orangish light. While the dishes from our dinner were placed in the sink, covered with animal gravy slathered all over them. It was tidy yet just barely so. A place filled with all the markers of being lived in.
“You've lived here less than a year but it feels like it's always had you in it. I feel … so comfortable here. My own home is so… cold and sterile. I Worked a lot the first few months I moved here. I just never got around to making it a home. It feels so bare, I started to work overtime just to avoid it. Which just made the problem worse.”
He sat down across from me, He put his head in his paws and looked at the scratched wood of his table. He held that position for a minute or two before breaking it and placing his paw on my own. “Maarchal, you are my best friend, I want you to feel comfortable. So if you want you can sleep on my coach, I can also help you make your home feel like one."
​
I shake my head, “no no, I shouldnt of imposed on you. Making myself feel at home is a job I need to do and have been avoiding for far too long. It's just… it's just so much easier to avoid you know?” I grabbed his paw and squeezed it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
​
I stand up and make my way to his front door before he speaks up.
​
“Uh hey Maarchal?”
​
I turn to address him “yeah?”
​
He shifts in his seat and fidgets with his fingers. “I’m uh, going to Ootra lake next week. I was wondering If you'd like… to come with me? I promise if you don't have a tent I’ll bring you one. We could have a fire, roast some meat on it and share ghost stories and stargaze… if you want?”
​
“ What about work?”
​
He rocks in his chair. “We'd have to call in for a day or so.”
​
I contemplated his words and mulled them over. It would be the first time I’ve ever willingly taken off a day, tarnishing my perfect attendance. But the prospect of spending more one on one time with Ponthyt was overwhelmingly tempting.
​
“Sure, I’d love to go. But I haven't gone camping for years so you will need to bring me a tent.”
​
He leapt from his chair, launching it backwards, before calming himself down. “I’ll take care of all the prep. You just have to come along. I promise it’ll be loads of fun!”
​
I chuckled while I watched his clearly restrained display as I slowly closed the door.
​
I could hear him howl with enjoyment as I turned into the driveway to get to my auto.
​
**\*
​
“Huff, Huff, you doin alright there Ponthyt?” I turned back to see him walking behind me.
​
“Yeah, oof I haven't walked this much in years!”
​
I waited for him to catch up, we sat together when he did and we caught our breath before tuning to make our way back up the bluff. When we reached it there was a stone gazebo made of limestone. The angle of the sun let it shine into it. We walked into it and sat down on the stone benches. I looked around at the lake.
​
It was surrounded by steep hills with many rock faces visible, the layered stone was clearly visible. The topography of the area around the bluffs was shaped like a bowl, with the sight of land of higher elevation faintly visible in the distance despite its gradual slope. Giving a scene of depth that was not as extreme then in more mountainous areas. This view was normally hidden by the trees below.
​
“Well isn't this view alone worth the trip?” Ponthyt proclaimed.
​
I looked around letting the mid morning sun warm my back, I stretched my arms and breathed deeply. Taking in all the wonderful scents of nature.
​
“Yeah, it's beautiful.” I let myself relax, just letting the sounds and scents of nature calm me like I have never been since I was a pup on an archeological trip with mom and dad.
​
“Hmm, I've missed this.”
​
I don't know for how long I had been like this, but Ponthyt broke the silence “Ahhem, so, you've gone camping before?”
​
I nodded, “yeah when I was a pup my parents would sometimes go off to a site for a couple of weeks and we would come with them. We would have to get homeschooled then. But we would always have to camp and I and my siblings would go off exploring while they worked during the day.”
​
He smiled and his tail was wagging.” That sounds wonderful. I only got to camp for a couple days a year. It was always so hectic. Me and my siblings would just muck around the camp and eat, sometimes hiking around. Heh” Ponthyt looked towards the ground and held his paws together, rubbing his digits together.
​
“What's wrong Ponthyt?”
​
“Oh it's nothing it's-” I put my paw on his shoulder which drew his attention towards me.
​
“I know that's not true, you can trust me. Just tell me what's wrong ok?”
​
He gave a look of reluctance before caving to my request “… sigh… I grew up in a big family, and I love them all but… I was born at a strange time. I was second to last of my parents pups. Which meant they were busy with the older ones' events and taking care of the youngest. I kind of got mixed up and forgotten. My interests rarely lined up with the others and I often messed up tasks that my sibling would just fix or do for me. It got to the point that I… didn't really do anything. They will never say this but… I don't think my parents ever expected anything of me.”
​
I rub his shoulder,” well… I know that you have amounted to something. I mean, you're an astronomer! You work to understand the nature of reality. You're also so… kind and patient. I tried to scare you off but you weren't deterred at my standoffish behavior.”
​
He turned his head and gave me a shallow but joyous expression. “Heh well living in a house that's rarely quiet leaves you with a high tolerance for stubbornness. '' he wipes away a single tear “Sniff well… should we make our way back to camp? Or can I take out my stuff?”
​
I shake my head. ”Nah, you can paint. I’ll just sit here and let this place wash over me.”
​
He smiles and gets up and sets up his easel, taking out his supplies from his bag and gets to work painting the landscape ahead of him. He was slow and each brushstroke was as deliberate as he could manage. He… wasn't very good, only starting out when he moved here. But his drive to get better was admirable. Even in adulthood he tried to learn, to grow, to become more than he was yesterday.
​
I kept staring at him. Feeling something warm in my gut, something an academic wasn't supposed to feel. Shame overwhelmed me and I quickly turned away. Cursing myself for having those accursed feelings.
​
​
**\*
​
Ponthyt, returned from his cauto (Cargo auto -> pickup truck) with an armful of wood he brought with us. He set most of it aside and threw a piece onto the fire he had started, causing a cascade of embers to fly into the late evening air. The dull purple of the sky cast overhead between the canopy of the trees as the chill of the night began to come in. A pleasant coolness that most would take advantage of to seek the comfort of warming oneself close to a fire.
​
Not me, I paced to a fro as Ponthyt set up our campsite. He had placed his painting for the day inside the cabin of his cautoa and was now seasoning some raw meat strips to cook on the open fire. Snacking on one or two as he did so. He hung them on the tripod to roast, the fat that dripped off them as they were cooking sizzled as they burned on the coals below.
​
“I’ll have these done as soon as I can, please sit down Maarchal. Walking like that is only going to make the wait worse.” He says as he prods the suspended meat with a claw like utensil.
​
“Hmm, ok I’ll just sit and wait. Waste my time. Make a waste of the whole evening!!!” I snapped back at him, throwing my paws into the air.
​
Ponthyt recoils from my outburst with his ears pinned back. “ We’re camping, there is no way to waste it.”
​
I turned to address him, “we shouldn't be here! This trip means nothing and we are just wasting our TIME!!!” I cross my arms and scratch at the biceps. Rufflying the fur and making a mess of myself.
​
Ponthyt drops his utensil and walks over to me. “ We’re together and we spent the whole day just mucking about. How is this any more of a waste than that?” He says as he looks at me with eyes full of worry.
​
“We’re scientists, academics!!! We don't waste time like the ignorant masses! We should spend our time wisely!!! Every action of connection is just another moment we waste that could be spent to advance our field.” I had tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Scratching at my fur until I felt a wetness on my arms and paws.
​
“We’re supposed to sharpen our minds! No-not seek pointless relationships! ” I said as I bared my teeth and began growling at him.
​
The look of betrayal and abject worry he had on his face was overwhelming. I didn't want to hurt him. What am I doing? He doesn't deserve my ire. My legs gave out and I cried into my hands.
​
Ponthyt walked over to his cauto and brought out a cover. He wrapped it around me and rubbed my arms through it. He rested his head on top of mine while I sobbed. I couldn't take this anymore. Repressing and lashing out at any attempt to connect. Ponthyt hugged me and rocked back and forth. Humming and rubbing on the cover. He was warm and soft. I don't know how long we had been like this but by the time my sobs turned to a faint whine the meat over the fire was well done and the sky was pure black and the stars were out.
​
“I-I think i’m good no-now.” I choked out. Ponthyt grabbed my hand and helped me stand up. We didn't say another word. He collects the meat and places it on two plates. I stare at my portion for some time, Ponthyt doesn't eat any of his either.
​
“Sigh… I know you might not want to but… Could you tell me why you said those things earlier?” He says with trepidation clearly miring his words.
​
“Yeah, it's just… When I entered college It was… not what I was expecting… I was sort of a hyper teen. Always going off about some book I read. Drawing pictures of stars, space stations or colonies we would make on inhospitable planets.”
​
He sits up and places his plate by his side. “You draw? I’d love to see some of them.”
​
“I used to. But I haven't since that first year of college.” I turned to stare at the dying inferno warming us. I pull the cover around me tighter.
​
“When I was doodling before class one day the professor walked by me. He noticed what I was doing and grabbed my paper. I objected but he just stared at me. When he started to address the class he showed it off and mocked me for wasting my time.” Ponthyt turns his head to look at me.
​
“That's a dick move, But at least he couldn't do the same when you did it in your free time right?” I turned to him with a somber expression. He seemed to understand the implications though he seemed to be confused as to how.
​
“He couldn't have gotten into your room right? That'd be a huge breach of privacy!!!”
​
I grabbed the poker and stirred the coals of the fire. “You're right, he couldn't. But he didn't need to, my roommate would take them with her to class and he’d pin them up on the board to mock. I called the staff but since she was my roommate she didn't break any privacy laws and since my art was only ever worth the paper it was on it wasn't even enough to get a misdemeanor theft charge. I tried to hide it but she would always find them. I tried to get another roommate but he stonewalled my attempts and I couldn't afford to rent a place in town. ”
​
He took on a look of absolute despair. “... How… how could he be so aggressively intolerant of such an innocent hobby?”
​
I chuckled “It wasn't just mine, a few others had made the mistake of having a roommate with the same professor. I remembered one who loved going out in the woods for hikes. When he found out about that he mocked him for “Pointless exercise and admiring a random assemble of dead and dying shit””. I waved my arms about to emphasize how he inflicted his words.
​
Ponthyt stared at the ground between us with a look of utter confusion.” … He mocked someone for appreciating nature and being healthy?”
​
I nodded, “if you were not engaging with study of his topic you were wasting his and everyone else's time.”
​
Ponthyt looks at me with concern and shared pain. “Why, why didn't you go to a different school?”
​
I stared at him in his eyes. A scene of shame overtook me. “It was the top class in the country. My family was so proud of me. I was so proud of myself, I didn't want to disappoint them and me. Looking back on it, I realize my own pride was something I rarely contended with until then. It didn't help when he found out who my family was.”
​
Ponthyt recoiled and waved his arms in a “what” fashion. “Wait, what does your family have to do with this?”
​
I poked at a log to knock off the charcoal to expose the untouched wood underneath. “They were happy. He spent a lot of time in academic circles so naturally he met people who knew my parents. And the way they described this happy family irritated him something fierce. He gave me such a hard time with it. Mocking me for being a lazy nepotism pick who didn't deserve her seat in his class. He mocked anyone for having any kind of non professional relationship, we never spoke to each other outside of class. We never left or met with friends or family. If we tried too he’d find out and call the one in question a “Lazy sentimental idiot.””
​
I breathed in deeply, “... that hurt my pride so severely that I just stopped seeing them or any of my friends. I always said I was busy or had a field study, but I was just reading and rereading his lectures. I didn't even go home for the summer breaks, I just apprenticeshiped at his museum to study even more. At graduation he looked so… proud, I only realized he was proud of what he turned me into and not what I did a few weeks after I met you. How I let him turn me into an angry starile shell of a person.”
​
Ponthyt turned his head towards the fire. His ears straight up and a soft growl in his throat. “... If I ever meet that piece of.. nuclear waste, I’ll kill him.”
​
He turns to me and his features soften immediately. “Anyone capable of manipulating someone as passionate and creative as you... I can't even imagine the kind of living hell he made you seek…”
​
I chucked and a slight wag entered my tail.” I’m responsible for my life. MY pride kept me there for him to mold. I hate him, but I hate myself for it too.”
​
Ponthyt shoots up and screams at me “MERSHIT, Maarchal, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You had a right to expect your teachers to be respectable people. Not abusive and manipulative Sherkires (Ambush insect. Commonly seen as sneaky and unhonorable due to making pheromones and calls imitating other insects mating signals). He starts to speak softer as he turners to address me.
​
“Even this version of you, so cut off of why you love space in the first place is just.. You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met. So humble with addressing yourself. You inspire me to be a tenth of the person you are.” He kneels in front of me and grabs my paws in his own.
​
“You are… you are so passionate, so creative. Even with being a self described shell. I can't even imagine how you will be when you open up again and explore your creativity in full and banish that monster's influence for good.”
​
I turn and I can't help but smile at his words.”... I haven't been in practice in years. But … I’m willing to relearn it with you.” I stared deeply in his eyes and that feeling again bubbles within me. The feeling of never wanting to leave his side, the feeling as though I found a piece I had been missing. Before I knew it I bit on his snout, recoiling when I realized what I had done.
​
‘I-I’m so sorry!!! You were just so close and and I felt something and before I knew it-” I was caught off guard when he bit my snout, holding my top jaw between his own set. I bit down on his lower jaw and we locked together. He tried to let go after a while. But I growled to let him know I wasn't ready yet and I used my leverage to lead him into my tent.
​
**\*
​
I got up and exited my tent. I stood up and stretched and twisted my back around. Lifting my arms above my head and pulling them as far out as I could. I looked at the coals still burning in our firepit, I could only tell they were burning from the heat going off of them as the glow was hidden by the sun's light. Before noticing the meat Ponthyt prepared last night still on the plates on the log we sat on.
​
“Pff, hey Ponthyt. Come out here!!!” I said behind me. He crawled out my tent with a head of messy fur.
​
“Wut ?” He said with half closed eyes and a disposition of utter exhaustion . I pointed to the cold meat. He still had a look of drowsiness before he realized what the significance of the strange strips were.
​
“Heh, I guess we won't need to make breakfast?” I chuckled as I sat down and hugged his head. I groomed his messy fur as I absorbed the morning sun. I don't know what the future of my career looked like anymore. But it was no longer the most important thing in my life. I loved space, I loved to learn. But In these years I had lost track of what was truly important. As I groomed him Ponthyt fell asleep with his head in my lap.
​
As I felt the joy of reciprocal love again for the first time in years I leaned back and watched the sunrise, caressing my love's head and breathing in the fresh air.
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
First Previous Next
We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

I love reading classic literature, specifically works from the 19th century, so I wanted to write a fan work for this game with that feeling:
“You are quite ridiculous!” came the vivacious and teasing voice of one student passing by the open window. This declaration was answered by the distinct and familiar laughter of another, carried on the autumn wind and drenched in the odor of decaying foliage and the promise of rain.
From his seat in the west wing of the library, parchment and tomes stacked beside him, Ominis Gaunt followed the sound until it vanished completely beyond the courtyard, sensations of uneasy feeling coloring his neck and ears. After a pause, he regained his senses. He shook his head, as if banishing the regretful thought that had then stolen into his mind.
“Why does he keep volunteering himself on her behalf?” He whispered, thinking of the owner of that feminine voice – a new fifth-year student at Hogwarts - an anomaly on its own merit - who had, in half the time succeeding her arrival, attained the magnetic affections of his oldest friend, Sebastian Sallow. “Of course - it’s because she’s new and decidedly beautiful.” Ominis told himself, merely speculating on the state of her physiognomy by the lilting cadence of her voice and the faint wisps of form his wand could communicate to him at a distance. Being blind since birth, he, out of necessity, had developed a magical ‘seeing eye' with the ebony tool he now pressed between his right forefinger and the book in his lap.
He hadn’t dared approach her directly when she’d first entered the Slytherin common room a month prior, for a frenzy of students had erupted around her the moment she’d set foot in it. From there, rumors spread like bees pollinating a garden after a long and depressing winter:
“The new girl had a ministry escort!”
“She was attacked by a dragon!”
“No, she rode the dragon!”
“Supposedly she was a squib before…”
“That can’t be - I heard she's a transfer student and can speak seven languages!”
“That’s a cover - her real secret was that she was privately tutored and has rare and explosively dangerous magic!”
These accounts became increasingly absurd because no one truly knew anything for certain, thus making everything possible. The girl herself was peculiarly private but charmingly polite - a combination that instantly made any would-be-pryer retreat into stuttering awkwardness. They did at the very least glean her name, which quickly became the subject of their fantastical speculations: Mélisande Clarusia Warwick.
From within his pocket, Ominis retrieved the note Sebastian’s owl had delivered him that day:
“Ominis,
Apologies for the abrupt change of plans, but our anticipated study session this afternoon must be postponed. Professor Weasley has graciously requested I accompany ‘MC’ to Hogsmeade for the replenishment of her class supplies, a task I’m sure you know I could hardly decline, given my inclination towards gentlemanly conduct. Incidentally, I cannot help but suspect Mel’s humble dismissal of her exceptional dueling prowess belies a deliberate modesty; there is undoubtedly more to her than meets the eye.
Regardless, I’ll make it up to you! If I’m not in the common room by nightfall, you know where to find me.
Sebastian.”
It did not escape Ominis’s notice that Sebastian, after weathering defeat by her in a duel during their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class together, had taken personal interest in MC and even dubbed her as such - among other names - needling her about the verbose nature of her formal title. Further, it was uncharacteristic of Sebastian to cancel a study session, seeing as he typically made any excuse to visit the library on behalf of research for his ill sister, Anne… nevermind the fact that Ominis could not recall any instance in recent memory where Sebastian had canceled on him, specifically.
After a moment’s hesitation, he refined the creases on the letter and tucked it back into the pocket of his waistcoat. He swallowed, brows furrowing and found that he no longer cared about the dancing plague of 1518 or the other contents of the book he’d since abandoned on his lap.
Sebastian did not come to dinner that evening. In customary fashion, Ominis found himself solitary - twiddling his fork on his plate - his company forsaken even by his housemates, who tended to cast upon him looks of cautious regard. They granted him a wide berth - huddling together three or four invisible student’s places apart from him. Through the soles of his shoes he felt the vibrations of doors slamming across the hall as students filtered out and the bench beneath him shifted when those occupying it left. The idle chatter of two teachers drifted across the cavernous room. Ominis sighed, folding a leaf of wax paper over a blueberry muffin.
“She was missing too…” he noted passively and wondered if he ought to have purloined a second muffin from the banquet table.
He held his wand aloft as he rose, a crimson bead of light fluttering like a heartbeat on its tip. The sensation of structures - rows of oak tables and benches - extended across the space before him. As he walked, he approximated the mass of these objects: how near they existed to his kneecaps, how firmly they were anchored to the floor - all actions thoughtlessly natural to him.
The passageway led from the Great Hall into the Viaduct Courtyard and a faint chill heralded that twilight had fallen upon the surrounding landscape. The tumult of student life had withdrawn for the night, taking with them a clamor of distracting noises and smells. Ominis meditated on the silence, finding solace in measuring the rhythm of his footfalls as he paced across the leaf-littered earth.
He imagined Sebastian with his freckled nose buried in a book in the Undercroft and smiled.
“It’s not the first time he’s worked through dinner,” he reminded himself. “Anne is lucky to have such a brother.” A pang of sadness worked dully at his chest following the mention of Anne’s name. Nothing had been quite like it was since before she’d fallen ill. “Even Sebastian’s laughter seems contrived these days.”
Suddenly a thunderous crack echoed across the hillside to his right, akin to a bolt of lightning striking a tree. Ominis jolted so forcefully that he nearly dropped the muffin in his left hand.
“W-what was that?” He gasped, his head swimming with adrenaline. The atmosphere reeked of burnt timber. Swiftly, he sought the protection of the cloister, his wand hand sweeping the clearing.
The path beneath his feet dropped into a series of stairs ending where the Black Lake licked the limestone and wooden boats rocked innocently in the building below. To the muggle, prepared to dismiss the absence of petrichor, this artificial thunderstroke might have signified a distant storm but Ominis knew well the vast and formidable traits of magic.
Someone was dashing up the stairs to his left - their feet tapping like raindrops on the hard surface. Ominis pressed himself plumb against the column and held his breath.
Her scent preceded her - like honeysuckle, mild and sweet. Following closely, the sound of her breath, quick and shallow, as though from a brisk sprint. The swish of her robes marked her entrance, swift and fleeting. In a moment, she vanished through the nearest castle door, oblivious to the presence of an onlooker.
Ominis found himself immobilized by his perplexity. He had, he was sure, sensed some great surge of energy, unlike any he had previously encountered, as she glided past him. An enigmatic metallic tang lingered on her garments, its quality imprinted on his senses. As he reviewed the day’s - no - the month’s occurrences and considered Sebastian’s recent preoccupation, a daring notion began to take root in his mind:
The new girl was forging a novel strain of magic.

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Hi all! Apologies in advance for a bit of a rambling post. FTM, LO is almost 8weeks. It’s been a struggle lol. She was having a rough time latching, swallowing lots of air bc it was shallow & consequently struggling with terrible gas, so for the first 5 weeks we were going to lactation consultant appts weekly. It was exhausting. I thought once we solved the latch issues, things would improve. I was so excited when around 5 weeks she started to BF without issue and her gas problems significantly improved. Yay! Plus, I had really wanted to EBF. Things were ok for about a week and then started to backslide. She would refuse the breast, even with a nipple shield, lots of choking and gagging while nursing, hiccups, or nurse for a couple minutes and pop off and just scream. When she would get a full feed in, she would cry for an hour or more after, sleep for 10 minutes, and then the whole process would start over again. It was starting to take a cumulative toll on my mental health; my husband and parents said they hadn’t see me laugh since LO arrived, and I felt miserable, crying every day and feeling like an abject failure. I mentioned to my pediatrician that I thought maybe she had reflux, but she said that the absence of high volume spit up made it more likely that her digestive tract was just maturing. For my sanity, I switched to pumping and bottle feeding and just gave up on breastfeeding, which was so hard bc I had really wanted to EBF, and the few times she did nurse well were such sweet bonding experiences. Things got a lot better with that decision, but in the past week, she seems to have regressed again. She’s been choking/gagging again, foul smelling spit up, lots of hiccups, minimal fitful sleep, wet burps that wake her from sleeping and cause her to cry. We’ve been keeping her upright for 30 min post feeds and using gas drops & probiotics. I’m now convinced she has reflux and have an appt with my pediatrician tomorrow to discuss. I just feel so defeated because I look back on the past 8 weeks and see how all the issues we had breast feeding could be related to reflux. She’s become so accustomed to bottles in the past 2 weeks that she won’t latch at all now, and we had worked so hard for those 5 weeks to get a good latch. I admire women who pump but I so wanted to breastfeed and now I feel like I lost that opportunity because the reflux wasn’t treated and she’s so accustomed to bottles. If it’s not reflux, I’m scared that she’ll start to reject a bottle, right when I thought we had found something that was working so well for both of us. I suppose there’s not really a point to this post, just feeling really worn down, exhausted, and like every time I find a way to make feeding enjoyable/less stressful for us, there’s a new roadblock.

It's been more than 3 days but less than a week...I think. I hope.
Here's why I'm struggling with this so much. I recently moved into an old family home. I love it, but it needs some work. One of the things that needs work is the plumbing. It has running water, but only cold, and not to all of the things that should have water. So to take a shower, you have to:

• fill a 5 gallon bucket with water which takes 5-10 minutes
• carry the full bucket from the kitchen to the bathroom without spilling it
• heat the water with this (super cool actually) portable water heater thing to about 115ºF which takes 15-20 minutes
• put this (also super cool) camping showe pump thing in the bucket, hang the sprayer over the edge of the shower wall and turn it on. Hopefully you used the thermometer right because if it's too hot or too cold your shower is about to suck
• okay, now you can actually do the shower part!

With all that prep work needed, rather than just getting in and turning the knob, it often feels like too much to do. Especially at night after work. So I convince myself that I'll do it in the morning before work. But when do I ever do anything in the morning before work? I have proven that I never have time.
Okay, so I'll just suffer through a cold shower... except I literally can't, my body physically can't handle it. All right, well, how about if I only wash my hair so it at least LOOKS like I showered? Great! ...Except that's too cold and will take too much time too.
Guess we're doing another messy top bun. If anyone asks, I'm doing that thing where you train your hair to be washed less often and balance the oil production.
Why am I like this?
How can I stop being like this?

i’m not here to bore you with my life’s story, but everything wouldn’t make sense if i didn’t at least give some backstory. to start i just turned 16 a couple days ago, but this all stems from when i was 12. essentially, throughout all of elementary and middle school, i was extremely overweight, bullied, and forced to the peripheral of the classroom hierarchy. but to be honest, i deserved the bullying, i was weird, awkward, lazy, and neglected all athletics. however, upon my first year in middle school, around 7th grade, i fell in love with football, and eventually the chubby theater nerd started to get his life together. it was then when i started doing lifts and conditioning drills the covid summer to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in my coaches mind that i would be prepared to play football, i began to notice changes in my body as well. of course, im going through adolescence, and changes in my body were inevitable, i shot up about 4 inches that summer, and my chubby beer belly began to get stretched out. despite this, i became addicted to seeing changes in my body, i craved the euphoric feeling i got from a hard workout. i was constantly doing the traditional things a 13 year old considers “working out”: benching everyday, “abs in 5 minutes” youtube videos, going for runs. at 13 i was extremely ahead of my peers. and despite and inconsistent, and unknowledable workout routine, puberty fueled my progress, and i began to pack on muscle like crazy. i developed abs better than anyone i knew, my arms were crazy defined, my chest poked through my shirt, i was one of the strongest on the team at this time. however, it wasn’t all great. it was around this time i started to change my eating habits, i completely neglected all processed foods, i stopped eating out. i would only really eat unseasoned chicken and rice and some fruits. and when i did inevitably purge and eat like a couple oreos or something, i would eat essentially nothing for days, or force myself to throw up while tears were streaming down my face. in short i developed bulimia nervosa. i never viewed this as a problem however, to be honest i felt proud of my “discipline”. and my peers took notice too, the whole time i had felt so proud of my transformation, the bullying faded away as well. eventually, it shifted to positive reinforcement for my behavior, and i was constantly praised my by teammates and friends for my discipline and work ethic as well as admired for the physique i had built. people who didn’t know me thought i was a junior in high school in 8th grade. and then i started to get attention from girls, and i had my first body in 8th grade. and then i became a sex addict. fast forward to freshman year, i put my strength gains to use, and i started my first full season at linebacker. in short my ego shot thru the roof that year. on top of being respected by my peers and teammates for my physique and work ethic, now i was loved because i performed on the field. my whole self worth became wrapped up in how i looked and how i performed on the football field. it was this year too i started to finally understand fundamentals of weightlifting, i stared following fitness influencers like lexx little, david laid, cbum, etc. and i became addicted even more to getting a punk and keeping my split. however among all this, my bulimia nervosa slowly started to go away. i still didn’t eat much, but i wouldn’t fast as much or force myself to throw up anymore. it was around this time body dysmorphia kinda hit me hard. i became addicted to pumps in the gym, and felt like a fatass for every hour of the day i wasn’t in the gym, i wore baggy clothes to school because i was just so damn harsh on myself. looking back from my perspective now my body was crazy for my age, and now i can appreciate it more in hindsight, but damn i was so hard on myself. but anyways to summarize, as my freshman year wrapped up, i was in top of the world. i was one of the best players on our team freshman year, i had a consistent lifting routine, my strength was going up, eating was going great, i started dating a girl in february, i had a 4.2 gpa, my parents were proud, everyone respected me. im not here to brag, i have nothing to gain from gloating about who i once was to strangers on the internet. and you’ll see who i became in a minute. in short, it all came crashing down. to start, despite my success freshman year, i was unfortunately undersized for varsity football at 5-9 170, and i didn’t play a varsity game my sophomore year, and played jv instead. to add on to that, we went 0-6 on jv and 1-9 for varsity. here’s where the issues start to arise. we struggled with a lack of discipline all season, so at the conclusion of my sophomore year, the coaches put a big emphasis on being the most mentally tough, hardest working team there is. at this notion, i was thrilled, i hayalways thrived in situations that required i strong work ethic and i was ready to embrace the challenge, but then a roadblock hits me. my lifting goes great for the first month of the offseason, i began my first true “bulk” which i had never been comfortable with because my previous eating habits. and seeing for the first time my body not be under 10% body fat was demoralizing. but it was still manageable because i still had my lifting routine, as my stress going up like crazy. then tendonitis hits me. i started having a terrible burning pain in my elbows that bothered me on pretty much any pressing movement, and if you know anything about how football weightrooms operate there’s a big emphasis on bench press, shoulder press, etc. for the first time since early middle school, i was forced to take a month off from the gym. my mental health went down the drain. i didn’t know what to do with myself, lifting was always the core passion of mine. i tried to redirect my energy into other sources like going on walks (which im doing now as i type this), as well as focus on school. but to be honest im not sure why i try in school, i hate it to be honest, and if i had the option, id drop out and become a welder, but my do not approve. but that’s a story for another time. the month off from the gym wasn’t all terrible, i could still train lower body and go for runs, but to be honest most people admire the top half of your body, and that what i was always most critical of. after the month was up i slowly worked back into my normal routine, starting at about 50% of what i could once do and working up the intensity from there. then the shoulder pain started on top of pain in both elbows, i now had pain in both my shoulders. and i was forced to take time off again. i started seeing a different pt around this time, and essentially what he told me was that my pain was the result of a muscle imbalance. my upper back muscles were weak compared to he chest muscles, causing a rounded posture, which put more stress on my shoulders, and the more stress on my shoulders meant more stress on the triceps and elbows. at this point i was relieved that i could start a consistent treatment plan, as well as consistent physical therapy. despite this there was another underlying factor inhibiting my progress, around the time the pain started to develop, i developed what i now know is anxiety and depression (i didn’t want to admit i had it up until now). what hit me the hardest was the anxiety, just a constant knot in my stomach 24/7 and going down trains of overthinking about my injury. my whole personality was changing, i wasn’t as laid back as i used to be, im constantly TENSE, and i emphasize that word because right now it’s the story of my life both mentally and physically. just constantly on edge. and my relationships took a hit because of it. i felt like i had changed so much that i wasn’t good enough for my girl anymore, that because i wasn’t able to push myself in the gym (i know it wasn’t voluntary and this sounds stupid) that she deserved better. we slowly stopped talking and grew apart, and i eventually broke up with her in our one year anniversary. another likely underlying condition contributing to my pain. so here i am two weeks out from concluding my sophomore year of high school, the pain hasn’t really subsided. and only really gotten worse to be honest. i’ve lifted inconsistently the last few months because of how bad the pain can get. i’ve done needling, cupping, massage, etc. and it only really seems to provide temporary relief. it’s progressed from where it initially hurt only when i was lifting to now a dull ache all the time. now my hips are tight all the time, my knees hurt too, my wrists hurt. i’m just hurting. the funny thing in all of this is? had an mri in my shoulders and elbows and nothing is wrong with me! which is mostly why i’m convinced now it’s psychogenic. all this stress and cortisol contributing to my inflammation. i’ve read lots of stories about psychogenic pain and conversion disorders here on reddit and unfortunately it seems like none are ever really cured. this led me to attempt and od a month ago, miraculously i survived with no organ damage. now my parents are constantly walking on eggshells around me and showering me with fake love. everything seems fake now. but i’m probably going to fucking shoot myself within the next week. i’m just so tired of being in pain all the time, i get told from my friends and parents, how can you be depressed and anxious? you have everything, but the unfortunate truth is that it feels like i have nothing and my life has fallen apart. “you’re so smart, you’re only 15, your whole life is ahead of you” “you have so much potential”, i’m fucking tired of hearing all this bs. the hard truth in this world is that nobody is loved unconditionally besides women, children, and puppies. if you’re a man and you can’t be strong and challenge yourself physically, you lose all respect from everyone. i know this sound shallow, but i promise im a good kid, take the time to get to know me. but it’s the cold truth that if you see an overweight man and a fit man without any knowledge of their personality, the fit man is immediately respected. i know most first impressions are based on physical attractiveness too. o shouldn’t be depressed, i have a good body, but i still hate myself. i have so much sex but i still hate myself. and it’s because i can’t lift. i can’t temporarily cure those little insecurities anymore, and im so tired of the constant shoulder elbow knee etc pain. i just wish i wasn’t so hyperaware of every little thing in my life anymore. i think if i was so self aware at times i wouldn’t be as stressed ya know, more at peace. it’s corny but ignorance truly is a bliss. so yeah if you’ve read all this way, i appreciate you listening to my sob story, i apologize if i may have left out some details as im kinda writing this in the spur of the moment and if you have questions feels free to let me know. more than anything this is a cry for help. regardless, im probably going to blow my fucking brains out if i don’t see any signs of hope for pain relief soon.

With even the cheapest no-name cold therapy machines running $150 to $200, I decided to build my own for a total cost of ~$70. Please do not feel the need to follow this list to a T, you can certainly make do with similar parts if you just want to use this build as a template.
This setup has worked incredibly well for me so far with no leaks and no sweating of the tubing. My cooler ($15 from Costco) has kept things extremely cold and has only needed ice refills about once a day; with the tight fitting sleeve, this has provided me much better relief than the commonly recommended gel wraps which I started with. Some of the common complaints about the OTS cold therapy machines have been the frequency of refilling needed and the lack of relief provided (not cold enough), having a real cooler has proven to be a real upgrade here.
The smart plug has been a great addition to keep the icing schedule consistent even if I fall asleep or lose track of time.
Parts List

Part Name	Quantity	SupplieLink	Notes
Submersible Pump	1	https://amzn.to/3UCblrl	I used one from Harbor Freight, but this one is very similar.HF Pump: HF Pump
Pump Port Adapter	1	https://www.thingiverse.com/thing:6617123	I designed this adapter for the HF pump, but the port dimensions are identical. Please reach out to me if you'd like a different size port or if you'd like me to make you one (Including o-ring seal) for ~shipping cost.
Pump Port Adapter, O-ring	1	https://amzn.to/4bcNJk7	Again, very similar to the HF set that I used. No, you don't need this whole set... You just need an o-ring to sit in the internal groove of the pump port adapter, doesn't even have to be a perfect fit because, well... it's submerged. You might even be able to get away with a MacGyvered tape job. Now that I think of it, I will make a new version of the pump adapter which sits in the ID of the pump port and can be sealed with electrical tape (or whatever you have) HF Set (PN is P12): HF O-ring set
0.25" ID Vinyl Tubing, 10ft	1	https://amzn.to/44CO650	10ft should be plenty of length and gives you much more ability to move around than the shorter lengths on the OTS options
(Option 1) 0.25" ID QD Connector, 4pcs	1	https://amzn.to/3WFRk5R	(Preferred Option) Only 2 females needed if using exact parts. I used Option 2 (barbed unions) due to a time constraint (available in person at Home Depot), but these would have been nice to avoid unstrapping the cooling pad. I did design and print an adapter to fit over the male QD fittings, but 3D prints are notorious for their porosity (read lack of waterproofness)
(Option 2) 0.25" Barbed Union, 4 pcs	1	https://amzn.to/44F6k5R	(Secondary Option) Only 2 needed
Cold Therapy Knee Sleeve	1	https://amzn.to/4b7Zloy	This pad has been really great so far and hasn't leaked, you just need to ensure you don't position the straps in a way that you block the flow. Can provide a bit of compression depending on how tightly you strap down.
Cooler	1	https://amzn.to/4bfzuLu	This is just an example of a cooler that would be suitable, don't go out and buy this one if you already have something similar!
Smart Plug	1	https://amzn.to/44GY1qf	Optional, but highly recommended. I used this to set schedules throughout the day to turn the pump on and off without having to get up.
		Total Cost	~$70

At time of writing, I'm 7days post-op from an ACLr with quad graft and LCL tear (unrepaired) and I think this cold therapy has been a big part of my recovery and pain relief. I'm currently walking around my apartment with no brace and no crutches and am close to full extension and 90deg flexion!
Note: Yes, these are Amazon affiliate links. No, you do not need to use them and you can actually find many of these parts at your local home improvement store (usually for higher cost). Please reach out if you need help sourcing something or modifying something to fit your build.
https://preview.redd.it/quvm8p8bspzc1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4ea79358b6ca2894f355cd62337165922fb4e0b7
https://preview.redd.it/bdcloq8bspzc1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=97ab2c726e8c749c3eeb46e296545f07d174525a
https://preview.redd.it/wkd3s93hspzc1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1e8293656720e53223693c8d96dc6d7958a4c28c

A Fantastic Idea

First off let me state that I think the Coffeejack is a fanastic idea. I think it's a much better solution to coffee brewing than leaver press manual espresso machines, because of how compact and elegant the unit is.
I really want Coffeejack (the company and the product) to be successful in the future. I hope some of my feedback here will be picked up by the company and they will resolve the issues with it.
I would much rather have a Coffeejack unit sitting on my kitchen worktop than something like a Flair. (Disclosure: I also own a Flair.) I don't think the Flair looks particularly pleasing to look at (actually I think it's hideous) whereas the Coffeejack on its stand looks great!

Why doesn't it work?

The Coffeejack as a concept is a great design idea. It uses a piston with a small surface area to generate high pressure against a larger area (coffee puck). It works like a leaver, multiplying force, or in this case, pressure.
It has some problems.
Basket does not seal properly
The first thing I noticed is that the basket doesn't seal sufficiently well against the main body of the Coffeejack unit. This means that water can leak between the seals. When the unit is on the stand, this causes clear hot water to leak onto the stand and into your espresso cup below.
This only happens when the basket is pressurized. The seals are sufficient at atmospheric pressues, but not at higher pressure.
Over-pressure valve does not work correctly
(Note: To understand this, you will have to remove the metal plate from the bottom of the Coffeejack unit. Removing this metal plate gives access to the overpressure valve below.)
A more serious issue is that the overpressure value does not work as intended. It is supposed to release excess pressure generated by the cylinder back into the water chamber.
I am not sure exactly how it is designed to do this, since the overpressure valve is simply a mushroom shaped piece of silicone. When under pressure, it deforms. This is presumably intentional.
However, when the pressure limit is reached, it "fails". It does release the water back into the chamber, lowering the pressure, however the silicone piece then falls into the high pressure cylinder chamber. Quite why this happens, I am not sure.
This results in water being able to freely flow between the high pressure chamber and the water storage container. No pressure can be generated, because there is no barrier or seal between the pressurized part of the unit and the unpressurized water chamber. Water can freely flow between the two.
When the maximum pressure is reached it fails suddenly. When it has failed, it becomes impossible to create more pressure.
To "fix" the problem, the whole unit has to be disassembled. This involves removing the shower screen, unscrewing the 5 screws at the base of the unit, and then disassembling the pressure generating cylinder chamber. Once this is done, the mushroom shaped silicone pressure release valve can be put back into place, and the unit will again be able to generate pressure.
Pressure generating cyclinder seals are not sufficient
A further issue is that the pressure generating cyclinder seals are not sufficient. These are the seals between the metal rod which is pushed downwards to generate pressure, and the walls of the high pressure container. These o-rings leak.
When creating pressure by pumping, if pumping too slowly water will leak pasts the seals and insufficient pressure will be generated. If the pumping rate is incresed, the overpressure value will fail, and the unit requires disassembly to put the over-pressure valve back in its correct place.
Bottom of the unit contains a rubber mat which unseals due to high pressure
This is a weird issue which I don't fully understand. The bottom of the water chamber contains a metal platform with small holes in. This allows water to pass to the bottom of the unit, where it is picked up by the water intake.
Remove this metal part, and a rubber "mat" can be seen at the bottom of the unit. This rubber component appears to function as a secondary over-pressure protection. The reason I believe this to be the case is that high pressure causes the rubber mat to lift up away from the floor.
There are some rubber "pins" or "legs" which hold it in place. These appear to be part of an over-pressure protection system of some kind.
After a few uses it appears to lift itself completely away from the floor, and this causes the seal to fail. Once this happens water can cycle from the coffee basket below back into the water chamber.
It's very strange and just another indication that the design isn't property thought out or that thorough testing wasn't done before taking the design to mass production.

Other notable issues

Basket too small and too deep
The basket is too small, and the volume of shots you can pull is surprisingly small. (Not really a full size espresso. Certainly not a double espresso.)
The basket would probably be better and give better extraction if it were shallower and wider. You can get quite a deep depth of coffee in there, but it won't extract at all well. The top of the coffee puck is going to be quite visibly a different color to the bottom after pulling (pressing?) a shot. This suggests pretty inefficient and uneven extraction, something that is easily confirmed by pulling different lengths of shot and tasting.
Small shots (and they really are small) taste very good. Longer shots taste pretty bad, because over-extraction begins to become an issue.
Dissassembly
One of the seals for the bottom interface between the glass water chamber and plastic is too loose. It easily gets stuck when trying to re-assemble the unit. (It doesn't stay in place around the plastic bottom bit.)
It's hard to describe this issue. In a nutshell, the big o-ring seal between the plastic body and glass body of the Coffeejack appears to be slightly too large and therefore it's very hard to reassemble the main Coffeejack body correctly after disassembling it for cleaning.
Shower screen
The shower screen on my unit came out after pulling a couple of shots. It now won't stay back in place.

Other minor issues

The basket collects coffee resedue around the edge where the perforated metal bottom meets the plastic walls. There is a small cavety around the basket where these two surfaces meet.
The coffee which gets stuck here is difficult to remove without soap and a sponge. The issue with using soap is that soap will get under the perforated metal of the bottom of the basket. To remove the soap, you need to re-attach the basket to the main body to be able to pump clean water through it, to expel any soap residue. You're probably not going to want to let it dry out after using soap to clean it.

Summary

I really like the Coffeejack unit as a concept. I think it looks fantastic, and I think it's a great idea for how to generate pressure for a manual espresso machine.
Unfortunatly, it doesn't work as intended. I don't think the problems are limited to my unit. I think the concept is simply flawed. The design and engineering just doesn't work.
I don't think it is possible to fix all of the problems. Some of the more minor issues I am sure could be fixed with a second generation design. Whether or not that is financially realistic for the company to do, I am not sure. For example, the issues with badly fitting o-rings and coffee residue getting stuck in the basket are surely fixable.
At the present time there is no indication that the company are aware of any of these issues and certainly no indication that they might modify the design to fix the issues.
In regards to the more serious issues: The over-pressure valve, which simply doesn't work as intended because the design is a fail, could simply be removed. It doesn't seem to be necessary. It isn't a required safety feature. There is no way it would be possibly to create enough pressure with this thing to cause any kind of hazard. The seals on the metal cylinder leak too much to be able to generate pressure to a level where it could be considered hazardous.
The most serious issue however is that the pumping mechanism isn't able to hold back the pressure it generates. I don't think this is a solvable problem. O-ring seals work on static interfaces. This is not a static interface. It is a dynamic interface, because the o-rings slide with the cyclinder against the plastic walls of the chamber.

Should you buy one?

Absolutly not. While it's a really, really cool idea, it is just an idea. The units they are producing at the moment are no more useful than proof of concepts.
I cannot stress this strongly enough: As much as I think the idea is truly phenomenal, the product you are buying is not functional. It is not fit for purpose. It does not work as intended.
There are not just a small number of small issues, almost every aspect of the design is broken. There are a large number of problems, and some of those problems are serious enough to prevent the product from being functional.
I have not used my Coffeejack many times. I have been careful with it, and yet it still has broken. I then figured out how to fix it and discovered all of these issues in the process. It then repeatedly continued to break regardless of how carefully I pumped it.
The issue I take with the company is these issues must be known about, and yet there is no communication about any of these issues, and seemingly no attempt to fix any problems. Instead, it appears that the company is pressing full steam ahead with mass manufacturing and trying to extract as much profit from the consumers as possible.
Most people are probably not going to the effort of fully disassembling their units to find out what has gone wrong. They probably just throw them away, and they end up in landfill.
It took me quite some time to figure out exactly what was going wrong with my unit. Having figured out what does go wrong, I can see why this design was unlikely to ever work correctly.

As a homeowner, there are many aspects of your home that require regular maintenance and attention to ensure everything runs smoothly. One of the most often overlooked, yet crucial, areas of your home is your plumbing system. In this blog, we'll delve into the importance of proper plumbing, common issues that can arise, and provide tips on how to maintain your plumbing system to prevent costly repairs.
Why Proper Plumbing Matters
Your plumbing system is responsible for providing clean water, removing waste, and maintaining a healthy environment in your home. A well-maintained plumbing system is essential for:

• Ensuring access to clean drinking water
• Preventing water damage and mold growth
• Reducing the risk of plumbing-related emergencies
• Maintaining the value and longevity of your home

Common Plumbing Issues
Despite regular maintenance, plumbing issues can still arise. Some common problems include:

• Leaks: Undetected leaks can cause significant water damage and lead to costly repairs.
• Clogs: Hair, soap, and other debris can accumulate in pipes, causing clogs and backups.
• Low Water Pressure: Mineral buildup and corrosion can reduce water pressure, making it difficult to shower or wash dishes.
• Frozen Pipes: Extreme temperatures can cause pipes to freeze and burst, leading to costly repairs and potential damage.

Tips for Maintaining Your Plumbing System
To prevent common plumbing issues and ensure your system runs smoothly, follow these tips:

1. Regularly Inspect Your Pipes: Check for signs of wear, corrosion, and damage. Make sure all connections are secure and watertight.
2. Use a Water Filter: Install a water filter to reduce mineral buildup and improve water quality.
3. Don't Overload Your Drains: Avoid putting large amounts of food waste or grease down the drain, as this can cause clogs and backups.
4. Run Hot Water: Regularly run hot water through your pipes to clear any mineral buildup and prevent freezing.
5. Check Your Water Meter: Monitor your water usage to identify any unusual patterns or leaks.
6. Schedule Annual Maintenance: Hire a professional plumber to inspect your plumbing system and address any issues before they become major problems.

Additional Tips for Specific Plumbing Issues
For specific issues, such as:

• Leaks: Use a leak-detection tool or consult a professional plumber to identify and fix the issue.
• Clogs: Use a plunger or drain snake to clear clogs. Avoid using harsh chemicals, as they can damage pipes.
• Low Water Pressure: Consider replacing old or corroded pipes or installing a water pressure booster pump.
• Frozen Pipes: Insulate exposed pipes in unheated areas, such as the garage or basement. Consider installing freeze-proof faucets or frost-proof spigots.

Conclusion
Proper plumbing is crucial for maintaining a healthy and safe home environment. By understanding common plumbing issues, following regular maintenance tips, and addressing specific problems promptly, you can prevent costly repairs and ensure your plumbing system runs smoothly. Remember to always prioritize your plumbing system's maintenance and address any issues promptly to avoid costly repairs down the line.
Oro Pro Plumbing Inc. provides repairs, installations, and complex plumbing issues around Redwood City and beyond.
650-291-6376 535 Standish St. Redwood City, CA 94063 https://www.oroproinc.com/

Hi all. I fix things. And build things. I'm pretty much retired, but I still do handyman work on the side. Usually about 10-12 hours a week. Gives me extra spending money.
There is an elderly (88) woman that I met in the course of my work. We'll call her Barb. I replaced her sump pump and helped redo the basement after a flood. She is so nice. She has no money. She has two kids in town who absolutely refuse to help her with anything, especially money. I've met both of Barb's kids, and I wish I hadn't. They are verbally abusive every time they open their mouths. If it isn't something about how stupid their mother is for still living in her home, it's some asshole they encountered on their drive over. Everyone's a douchebag except for them. I mean it really is all. the. time. I've never heard a kind or compassionate word come out of their mouths.
I've been going to her house about once a week just to check in on her. Her mobility isn't great - she has a hard time walking any distance further than bedroom to kitchen, but she is a sharp as a tack. She still rides her lawnmower herself, and works on her yard. She gets everything she needs, sits down, and then works on all the flowerbed she can reach from that position. She does that every day. Her yard is beautiful.
After fixing her sump pump Barb asked if she could call me for other things. I said sure. So far I've replaced 3 toilets (she had 70s toilets in the lovely shades of the blue, harvest gold, and avocado), 2 vanities, replaced a bunch of bad, steel plumbing, rebuilt a cupola on her roof, fixed the roof (missing shingles from wind storm), replaced her light post in the front yard (needed a new power line from the basement to the house), rebuilt a retaining wall around the back of her house, put in a new kitchen faucet, and a host of other things. A peculiar thing about this is that I always "forget" the receipts, so she hasn't paid for any of it. She always bakes cookies or brownies while I'm there, and she makes lemonade (the real kind, takes hours of soaking lemons etc.) so I can take a break and have afternoon tea with her. I'm fine with this arrangement, if she had to pay for things she wouldn't be able to, so her house would be falling down around her. And her kids refuse to help.
Her kids have been attacking me. They say I'm doing this so Barb will put me in her will. I can tell you that's absolutely not the case. She even talked about this with me, saying she feels she should leave me something for all the work I've done. I categorically refused, and I put it in writing that she was not to do that. I provided copies of that letter to her children. The letter also stated that if she did leave me anything the court should take what I was given and split it between her children. It was signed in front of a notary.
My wife thinks I'm crazy to do this. To me it's a ministry. That's an uncomfortable word for a lot of people, but that's what it is. I feel that my lot in life has put me in a position where I have the means and the skills to help this woman in what is fairly obviously the final few years of her life. After having this conversation with my wife a few times I invited her to come and meet Barb. When she did, my wife started finding more things I can do for her. She's 100% on board.
So are my questions for you folks: 1. do you think she's trying to fleece me (I do not think she is capable of this). 2. How worried should I be about her children being assholes to me? and 3. I've been very involved, and have done a lot for her. Should I continue, or should I step out of this situation?
She's such a sweet, gentle person. I estimate I've spent about $11,000 on her house at this point. Every single thing that has been done needed to be done. She can't do it, she can't afford it, and her kids I've nicknamed Bitch and Jackass.
Am I being taken advantage of?