Oh god, why can’t I sleep? Is it the company I keep? The corporate monotony, Or small town bureaucracy?
On you, it looks quite suitable, Playing god from inside a cubicle. For me, it ain’t that practical, Perhaps I’m just not tactical.
Oh, heavy is the hand that swings the sword.
Oh god, why can’t I sleep? Is it all on me, Or the company that keeps, me? Gods in sad beige cubicles, Laughing in the context of funerals.
But you’re a hero catching criminals, And preaching all your spirituals. I wonder why it’s so hard for you to sleep?
Heavy is my hand when I swing that sword.
Please doc, prescribe a sabbatical, Or another black box pharmaceutical. Perhaps this is my crucible.
You may call me Judas, But you’re strange, and sometimes ruthless. Gods with Stanley cups, Sure to clock off before lighting up.
Fed on confirmation bias, Oh my god, we’re all so pious! Is it justice that you seek, Or just another story for you to keep; Distracted from the life you lead.
Watch out, ourboros, heavy are the hands that swing the sword.
When I told you how I cried, There was a smile in your eyes. And your mouth spoke frequent lies, But that came as no surprise, Because you’ve been learning from the best, Looking like Mr. Collins in a dress.
No wonder it’s so damn hard for you to sleep. Just another pig stumbling on two feet, And this ain’t the journey for me, But since you’re real comfortable, Go on, continue the show. For me, it’s time to go, to sleep.
They might say I’m troubled, I’ll admit, I was befuddled. The lord I don’t believe in knows I’m not perfect, but I know the price to swing that sword ain’t worth it.
Ourboros, how heavy is the hand that swings the sword

Heavy is the hand that swings the sword:**
Oh god, why can’t I sleep? Is it the company I keep? The corporate monotony, Or small town bureaucracy?
On you, it looks quite suitable, Playing god from inside a cubicle. For me, it ain’t that practical, Perhaps I’m just not tactical.
Oh, heavy is the hand that swings the sword.
Oh god, why can’t I sleep? Is it all on me, Or the company that keeps, me? Gods in sad beige cubicles, Laughing in the context of funerals.
But you’re a hero catching criminals, And preaching all your spirituals. I wonder why it’s so hard for you to sleep?
Please doc, prescribe a sabbatical, Or another black box pharmaceutical. Perhaps this is my crucible.
You may call me Judas, But you’re strange, and sometimes ruthless. Gods with Stanley cups, Sure to clock off before lighting up.
Fed on confirmation bias, Oh my god, we’re all so pious! Is it justice that you seek, Or just another story for you to keep; Distracted from the life you lead.
Watch out, ourboros, heavy are the hands that swing the sword.
When I told you how I cried, There was a smile in your eyes. And your mouth spoke frequent lies, But that came as no surprise, Because you’ve been learning from the best, Looking like Mr. Collins in a dress.
No wonder it’s so damn hard for you to sleep. Just another pig stumbling on two feet, And this ain’t the journey for me, But since you’re real comfortable, Go on, continue the show. For me, it’s time to go.
They might say I’m troubled, I’ll admit, I was befuddled. The lord I don’t believe in knows I’m not perfect, but I know the price to swing that sword ain’t worth it.
Ourboros, how heavy is your hand which swings the sword

Around 8 months ago, our son (23M) seems to have decided it’s time to commits to the gym, going there about 2-3 times a week.
Me (49M) and my wife (46F) have been big on physical fitness for decades, and we make sure to spend free time there or in our personal gym. We were happy to help him but he did not like the intensity and load of our routine so we let him go at his own pace.
6 months in, he’s gone down from 173lbs to 150lbs and visibly toned up. When she found out, she wasn't happy, saying he shouldn’t be that much lighter than her. She is close to 180lbs, but is tall for a woman and fit so a lot of it is muscle, I am closer to 210lbs of muscle.
Since then, she’s been constantly on him for it. She criticizes everything he eats, saying he eats nothing but bird food, and should eat more to build muscle. He often counters saying she doesnt see everything he eats. He tends to eat 1 meal and snacks or fruits throughout the day, and has done this before working out.
He’s made it a habit of eating a plate of rice mixed with chicken and vegetables, especially after he exercises. She thinks the quantity is not enough for him to build up. She keeps saying if he keeps it up, his muscles and joints will deteriorate.
He was too slow to help me lift a couch once and his sister (28F), who was staying at the time, helped instead and did it faster. Wife now insists both she and his sister are stronger than him and that “As a man”, he shouldn’t be okay with that. “As a man” she believes 150lbs is too light for him.
He also likes to walk every morning. Between 1-2 hours. She says he should focus more on weight training “As a man”
I remember at one point, we were dropping him off to the gym. She asked him how much his load was, he said “Enough”, then “Enough to make my muscles feel tired”, she said that was a dumb limit then kept asking how much his weight was. When he said 30lb weights for bicep curls and 100+lbs for seated rows she goes “… oh…” then just says he should be building up to more anyways. “As a man”. Since his cousin (19M, student athlete) who is much taller than him, clocks in at 195lbs.
You may see a pattern here. While I believe my son could become stronger than he is, this is his choice. He committed himself to change and has shown results. I'm proud of that. I do plan on intervening to make sure he’s maintaining muscle, and improve his routine, but I feel the expectations my wife has set for him are ridiculous and humiliating. He is not interested in making the gym a large part of his life, he's not interested in becoming insanely powerful and that’s that. If my father ridiculed me this way when I made progress, I would not be the man I am today.
I have brought this up in private numerous times, Over all of them, she tells me all our son does is play video games, has slowed down too much with his studies, has no social life, hasn’t worked a job ever since he was fired 5 months ago in a move from his boss we both agree was bullshit (He notified his boss he wouldn’t be available multiple days in December, multiple times in advance, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember) and adds we were both married with a house at his age. He is still financially dependent on us.
It seems this has unearthed a lot of issues my wife has with our son. I am well aware of these flaws of his but I don’t see how badgering him on his fitness and comparing him to others is going to solve that.
I would very much appreciate an outside opinion about this. I have no idea how to push this further without causing a scene, so I would like to know what you would do in my situation. My son is making acceptable progress with something for once and it feels like my wife is now sabatoging him.

Hi, this is my first realy venture into music production. I'm a total beginner in that aspect, but I have been playing guitar for six years and I've got the basics of piano and bass. I'm clueless in how to make a drop of music however on a DAW.
I listen to my favourite artists in envy that they can create these beautiful sounds and be so expressive through sound, I want to at least throw my two cents in, is it a wild goal to set for 2025/26?

18M here. So basically I unfortunately belong to a country where majority of the public is lower to normal middle class PPL, everyone trying to earn wealth n live a luxurious life in some way or other, most common of which is study hard, like really hard, get into the best colleges of the country to pursue an engineering degree, then get a job through college placements. And the worst part is, the acceptance rate of these universities is about 0.1%(IITs). So, my parents have been real douchebags when it comes to raising children; Used to beat me up, throw me out of the house for little mischiefs or no apparent reason back when I was a little kid. It made me hate them so much, n made me scared. I think I have a good mind, like I'm good at picking up things, be it learn a language, learn to play an instrument etc, like I like learning things. But I never knew this supposed to be a good aspect of my life could cost me my childhood and my teenage. Realising this, my father decided that I would prepare for the exam to get into the universities I mentioned, and started to become stricter and stricter with my academics. Y'all won't believe the disappointed faces and taunts I had to bear with when I lost just 2-3 marks in my tests. This behaviour of them never let me feel appreciated in any way, which makes me extremely happy n shocked when someone else appreciates any thing I do. So all in all, I had only one thing to do in life, study study n study, everything else was just a DISTRACTING hobby which should just remain a hobby. I still remember that once my father took my piano keyboard away just because I wanted to practice a song I was trying to learn and was apparently wasting time on it. Guess what, I was just in 5th grade then. Talking about the current situation, I live alone in a hostel, having given 2 crucial years of my life when u gain some experiences before entering adulthood, have just been wasted. I sacrificed everything, my school life, my friends, a girl I really liked for the first time in my 10th grade but nothing really happened because I had to move out, and tried giving my best to that exam. But I couldn't succeed, and sadly would have to spend one more year, same life, wake up and start studying, take all my fomo out on gym, come back start studying and sleep.
The worst thing they have done to me, which I very much resent, is not appreciating me expressing myself. Be it feelings, thoughts, opinions. I don't remember much, but I used to talk a lot as a kid, but once in a random convo, my dad got pissed and told me to shut the fuck up that I speak too much, well that was the last time I ever spoke to him properly. I couldn't care less if I don't get to speak so much to my family, but this has affected my social skills, made me an introvert. Noone likes to keep a convo with me alone, I always have to be in a group to enjoy a conversation. And I get this weird feeling when someone listens to me carefully and enjoys what I say, makes me feel unreasonably appreciated. Also my school life has been very terrible. First I couldn't stop changing schools because of my dad's stupid job, so could never make any real friends. When I finally settled in a school in 8th grade, covid hit, and I was locked in my narc household for almost a year, couldn't talk much with friends online, couldn't talk to a girl, couldn't do this that, just study. Then all I know is, I have to quit my school just like that, to prepare for these universities.
So yes, continuing my parents obsession with my studies and me getting a job, I have come to realise why they want me to do it. They were failures in their time, didn't get a good college, didn't study properly, didn't gain enough skills and thus did not land a good job. They are tired of working and providing for the family, and expect me to take over asap with an unreasonably high paying job so that they can retire and chill. Being the elder son, I totally do understand my responsibility towards my family and that sooner or later, I have to be the primary breadwinner. But this could be done in a better way, they could have just acknowledged my feelings if they didn't want to help, they could've been more considerate that I'm too a human with feelings. What was the point of being so strict and naive?? I hate them, just waiting for my college to move out, and start earning so that I'm no longer accountable to them in any way, live my own life with no one controlling it like a fucking dictator. But this won't be anytime soon, a minimum 2-3 years more. So 20-21 years of my life have been a LITERAL WASTE. I don't know how to cope with this.

Okay Context. I've got a gf (we've been together for 2 years). I have a friend (guy) who I occasionally hang out with to go get lunch and stuff. My best friend (of also ~ 2 years), I want to keep a good and happy friendship with her. '
First case: BSF wanted to hang out after school. I tell her that the place she is going to be is too far away for me to drive (at this time, I didn't know it was going to be 15 minutes away), i didn't know. From my mental map, it was pretty far (yk how it is). She told me she was going to be studying, but would stop to talk to me. This place was her father's bakery. I tell her that i'm not trying to drive too far away from the school because I would have to pick up my younger brother later. she leaves. I'm hungry. i ask my guy friend to go grab something to eat 10 minutes away. she has my location. she knows i hung out with him. shes mad. (she thought i was going back home, which her father's bakery would be on the way too, but instead thought i chose to hangout with my guy friend over her). i repeatedly try to reassure her that that is not the case. she doesn't believe me. i tell her i can hangout after her concert on saturday. she gives dry responses.
second case: guy friend starts a bad conversation with best friend. it is guy friend's fault, i watched it happen though. he indirectly calls her a terrible person. they argue. afterwards, she tells me that i should've defended her and called him out. i talk to guy friend, he believes he was in the wrong. i apologize to best friend for not defending her and guy friend's behavior.
third case: at the concert saturday, she tells me that there is "no plan" to hangout. i ask her when her concert ends so we can maybe grab something to eat. she tells me she doesn't know. I tell her i'll just "wing it" hoping that sometime between her rehearsal and concert we can get something to eat. time between concert and rehearsal is short. there is no time to eat. after concert, i'm playing outro music on piano for people exiting. she tells me goodbye, and leaves. Im driving home after the concert. She texts me to go to Panda Express. I tell her i can't, i'm already almost home. later, she says i should apologize for not being to hangout. i do. yet, i tell her that it is sympathetic and not apologizing for a mistake i made. she brings up the guy friend events again. i have already apologized for those events, so i felt that it was wrong for her to bring them up again in a case that didn't have anything to do with guy friend. bsf claims "so sorry i didn't let you know in advance i would get hungry" (in response to me saying she could've planned something with me).
TBH I love my bsf very much, but lately i feel like shes been awfully controlling and unreasonable. if you're still reading this, please i need your input. am i the asshole?

TL;DR: PLEASE READ THE LN!!!
I've always had an obsession over manhwa and manga (especially OI), and I was especially intrigued because how polarizing people's opinions were on it. I love my fair share of angst and trauma porn and toxicity, and although I dig through all the webtoon and manga trash out there, even I have lines I don't cross/tolerate, and series I drop. Especially with abusive/toxic couples, shit story, lack of development, lack of realism, lack of respect, misogyny, repetitive tropes, etc. But I always give everything a try (even trashy sexist smuts or Chinese manhuas)
But please I IMPLORE you: give the light novel of [My Beloved Oppressor] a read. The manhwa is great and beautiful, but doesn't do the story as much justice with how many details and emotional nuances that are left out. It's so rushed too.
I just finished and I am clutching my pears, biting my fist, sobbing my eyes out, and screaming.
I came for toxic hot trash and irredeemable black haired MLs and timid FLs to rag on, but actually got pretty hooked and teary from these 20 manhwa chapters. I saw on this reddit a great free place to read quality translations at: https://www.patreon.com/collection/188783?view=expanded
I do not ever read LNs for even my top-tier SSS class manhwas, but I had an unusual pull into these characters' lives and story. And thus I began to spiral with these characters.
To avoid spoilers, I wasn't expecting the development of the story, and I truly felt like I was going through the same life-changing rollercoaster as the characters. Not just the FL and ML but the world, setting, side characters, etc. the story is well thought out, detailed, BEAUTIFULLY written and expressed, and I literally felt like I was being sucker punched at some parts I was almost nauseous and disoriented. I could clearly picture scenes with such an artistic vivid imagination and suffered to many emotions throughout the reading.
My tissues are soaked with hot tears, and yet at the end I feel so unbelievably hurt and yet whole from the entire LN. The side stories and ending seriously felt so complete, and I felt there weren't any loose ends besides maybe some parts of the MLs past and whatnot, but I never said this series was perfect. I am very satisfied after, although I feel so impacted.
But they felt like fleshed out characters that I can't bring myself to love or hate, and I just want them find peace and happiness. I love how the FLs draws her line and doesn't just come running back to the ML when he's all ghastly and begging forgiveness. And he honestly doesn't do too much annoying begging and obsessing. He does try his best to separate them and to just love her from the shadows and be respectful of her wishes, although he's horrified of the thought of her killing herself while out. Even if not perfectly or at first. He also doesn't just leave his duties to some poor assistant side character, or completely neglect his role as the commander. In fact, he drowns in it since he feels it's the best thing he can do for her (bring peace and end the war and make a better place for her to live). It's my pet peeve when MLs abandon their jobs/duties over their loss of the FL and the company/empire/whatever they're running suffers from his emotional outbursts and grief over her while he's got bags under his eyes and has sexy shot of him with alcohol and cigarettes lmao.
The MLs development is truly such a breath of fresh air. I can understand his fucked up mentality and obsession, his self-deprication, self-destructive nature, and inferiority, and so on. And the FL isn't some pushover smiley happy Mary Sue. She has her flaws and confronts them throughout the story, and she's not some completely innocent perfect victim either. She really grows so much and I love how she interacts with Heiner. She really recognizes how unhealthy his 'love' is until he fully recognizes his feelings and perspective.
They get dirty and scarred, fight and argue, have unbearably sweet moments that made me want to burst, and gut wrenching parts that made me have to set me phone down. The insight the LN gives to Annette and Heiner's thoughts and feelings is on a whole different level.
For the homies who already read all of the LN too: First of all, Catherine supremacy for life. They were a fleshed out family with feelings, and not some tool or stepping stone for Annette like other runaway FLs after escaping or divorce.
Can't stress enough how the story doesn't just tunnel vision on the main couple too. Side characters are part of the story and make big impacts. Even the sniper at the church who got his face mauled is who saved her life in the fire. And even Catherine (in the side stories) would give it to Heiner over the phone and he'd reflect on himself. Even the guy who ratted Annette out while she was staying with them post-divorce showed up again when he lost his legs in battle and they had a moment together.
Annette's descent into depression was depicted so realistically it hit too close to home. The memory loss, handwriting and dexterity degradation, and her reaction to the miscarriage felt too real. So often depictions can feel too cheap or shallow. I was horrified by her suicide attempts but could completely put myself in her shoes. But it just doesn't go away quickly either, she does struggle with it and taking care of herself, or having the motivation to recover or do therapy to improve her ruined left hand after the church collapse
>!But seriously, the war church fire incident and the piano was seriously immaculate. The references to the Saint mural and glimpses to the past that reminds me of how far we've come and how much of her life has changed, Joseph, and the piano-playing scene. The shaken feelings of the enemy troops and battle with morality, that moment of pure serenity, I was so absorbed. I mean the play that the piano and music had in her journey and the story too was so tasteful.
And oh my God the ending with the title meaning reveal- I seriously thought it was another shitty toxic title but it was actually the name of the song Heiner fell in love with before he met her... and the one she played that lured him in. And what a switch around because I always assumed the ML was the oppressor in question, but really it was the FL to him because how much she engulfed his life. They even address in the story how her love is spread between so many things (piano) and people, and Heiner has nothing but her.!<
It's really such a tragedy that his innocent youthful crush became such a a double edged serrated knife. So obsessive and convoluted, and he created a cult-like worship of a fictional version of her in his head >! through extreme torture... I mean that kind of disassociation was literally the only way he could survive. Plus how could someone raised the way he was understand love and how to give/receive it? !<
I'll stop rambling here for now but guys please comment or something, I have so many feelings after reading the LN I NEED to talk more about it with someone 😭

My PC keyboard MIDI used to play 12TET on piano roll, but after linking my DJ Controller up as a MIDI drumpad, my PC keyboard ASDF MIDI is now binded to the channel rack (Kick, snare, etc) and the other keys aren't linked to piano roll anymore. Anyone know how to revert this back to normal?

I am currently using a laptop to play CS2. Specifically the Acer Predator PH315-54 with the below specs.
Windows 11 Home
11th Gen Intel Core i7-11800H @ 2.3GHz (Task manager says it clocks to around 3.6-3.9 when I am in game, system information says 2.3)
RTX 3060 Laptop
8x2 GB RAM @ 3200MHz
Steam and CS on a M.2
I used to be able to play just fine with a stable FPS despite game conditions. All of a sudden, the FPS dropped greatly randomly throughout the match seemingly for no reason. This also happens when walking around empty practice matches with no utility, gun fire, decals, spray paint, etc.
I have set my GPU to bias performance in the control panel (I use a monitor connected to my laptop through DP), high power, I have my laptops "turbo" mode turned on which clocks the GPU and CPU and high as possible, settings on low medium with changes to lower settings affecting average FPS but not helping with stuttering or 1% lows.
This is extremely frustrating as I was able to play multiple games earlier last week with no issues whatsoever for many hours, and now it can't run for more than 90 seconds without a massive 2-10 second drop.
If anybody has any ideas as to how I can fix this or how they fixed this issue if they experienced a similar one, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading all of this if any more information is required, feel free to ask.
P.S. I use the launch settings, "-high -fps_max 0 -novid"

I am currently using a laptop to play CS2. Specifically the Acer Predator PH315-54 with the below specs.
Windows 11 Home
11th Gen Intel Core i7-11800H @ 2.3GHz (Task manager says it clocks to around 3.6-3.9 when I am in game, system information says 2.3)
RTX 3060 Laptop
8x2 GB RAM @ 3200MHz
Steam and CS on a M.2
I used to be able to play just fine with a stable FPS despite game conditions. All of a sudden, the FPS dropped greatly randomly throughout the match seemingly for no reason. This also happens when walking around empty practice matches with no utility, gun fire, decals, spray paint, etc.
I have set my GPU to bias performance in the control panel (I use a monitor connected to my laptop through DP), high power, I have my laptops "turbo" mode turned on which clocks the GPU and CPU and high as possible, settings on low medium with changes to lower settings affecting average FPS but not helping with stuttering or 1% lows.
This is extremely frustrating as I was able to play multiple games earlier last week with no issues whatsoever for many hours, and now it can't run for more than 90 seconds without a massive 2-10 second drop.
If anybody has any ideas as to how I can fix this or how they fixed this issue if they experienced a similar one, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading all of this if any more information is required, feel free to ask.
P.S. I use the launch settings, "-high -fps_max 0 -novid"

My first visitor arrived wearing a vacuum suit. I’d have assumed it was for quarantine protocols, except that a second distinctly inhuman model lay in his arms. The second suit had longer limbs, more fingers, a visor that was just a little too wide for a human. The shape itself was an invitation. It was for me, and I did not need to be told to put it on.
“Are we in danger -” I began to ask, and was immediately cut off.
“Yes,” the human replied.
“-of a hull breach.”
I continued mostly out of verbal momentum, but the human mulled those four words over for a moment before replying again.
“No,” he decided. “Not that.”
His voice was familiar, even if the faces all tended to blur together for me. I realized I was speaking with the human that had brought me from the station to wherever this was.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I asked, and he smiled sadly back. There was a sympathy in his gaze, even if his eyes reminded me too much of his teeth - sharp and slick and white as bone.
“Old habit,” he said. “But worth keeping. You’ll know after you meet Agi. ”
Humans always felt like they were trying to bait you into asking more questions. Instead, I activated the final seals on the suit, and followed behind. If he was baiting for questions, I was not fool enough to think he would actually give answers.
​
​
I wasn’t sure what aesthetic design I expected from the human station, but the consistent and extreme maximinimalism took me by surprise. The hallway outside my room had a floor coated in fine sand (I winced on behalf of their particulate filters) along with row after row of large, leafy plants growing from pots. The plants had grown so wide that one simply had to push through them to make it down the hall.
“Like home,” the human leading me forward said. I wasn’t sure if he was genuinely defensive about the design choice, or just naturally standoffish.
We went through three discrete sections after that, each slightly more absurd than the one prior. First there was a hall devoted entirely to industrial hazard signs. Every wall, every door, ever window, had helpful labels describing entirely unrelated forms of death.
Drowning Risk hung over a fountain, complete with a single hand reaching up from a sinking body. Crush risk hung over every door, each with a crumpled icon of what was unmistakably a human form. It wasn’t until I passed a cabin with a biohazard risk sign overheard that the dots clicked.
“Pride?” I guessed.
‘Pride,” the human said back. It wasn’t quite an agreement, but I didn’t think he gave straight answers. Something had beaten it out of him.
After that, there was a vast expanse of clocks. There was no consistent pattern to their construction - a few were simple, legible digital devices. Others became clockwork mechanisms of brass and steel. At the end there were a few made of carved wood, far more intricate and finicky than made any practical sense. I stopped to look at one, and a sculpture of a winged thing burst out of it, whistling and tweeting, before smacking me straight in the forehead.
I took that as an omen to keep pushing forward.
The final space was clearly intentionally claustrophobic. The hall narrowed so thin that we could only pass forward by by turning sideways. It looked like devices normally tucked into the walls had been moved out, sometimes putting passerby at genuine risk. A transformer hummed in one part, copper wires exposed, and I had to take great care to not even brush against it. If the man leading me forward was perturbed by this, he did not show it.
And then we entered a commons.
Pride, I recognized. The two others, I did not. All of five of us were wearing vac suits.
“Ersatz!” Pride said, genuinely delighted to see my escort. It was a new name to keep track of, but it was still a relief to know he had one. Helped him feel less like a force of nature.
“Pride,” Erstaz said. He gestured for me to take a seat. It seemed like Pride had intended for me to sit next to him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked me. “Cold sweats? Itching? Sneezing? The awakening of primal urges you would have preferred to remain buried deep in your subconscious?"
“Has anyone ever drowned in your fountain?” I replied, and instead of laughing he looked quite thoughtful.
“Not by accident,” he said, and I laughed because I wanted it to be a joke. “But that aside, I am glad you’re feeling well. I’d assumed we’d have a few days of quiet after getting here. Fortunately, an opportunity that’s too good to miss just came our way. Would you like to know why we’re all wearing vac suits?”
I did. I truly desperately did. I knew he was being dramatic, and I knew the other three humans had little patience for it, but I couldn’t help playing along.
“Yes. I would like to know that very, very much.”
“The first step to getting back to Earth has fallen into our laps,” he said. “We have an opportunity to steal an IFF token that’ll get us past orbital defense. And that’s not even the best part! Order, would you like the honors?”
One of the two unmet humans turned to me. His name seemed like it was sarcastic - his hair was wild, his eyes were darting, and his hands scittered over the table like massive five legged insects.
“We’re gonna take it from the fuckin’ burger clown,” he said, and the table erupted into cheers. I cheered too. I think that was the exact point where I simply accepted that nothing was ever going to make sense ever again.
(It was an enormous relief.)
First/Previous/Next

I've Been Doing a Lot of Whatever the Fuck I Want Lately and I Like It
It's the day of Ayonna's Zoom court hearing so she's thinking about survivalist jailhouse makeup hacks. They've improved since women used to use scraped paint chips off their cell walls as face powder, dampened red paper as rouge, permanent markers for eyebrow pencils, Kool-Aid doubling as hair dye and blush, and M&Ms as lipstick because deprivation causes innovation for self-preservation. That and Jamahl's excruciatingly murky explanation of his 2-year wedding day gap even though he's as open a book as a text at a class final that provides no specific answers to a general essay question. It's not that he wants to delay a ceremony displaying his love for Shellfish publicly; it's about financing a befittingly royal wedding for the ghetto version of Prince Charles and the late Diana Spencer to whom the masses must bow down, and that includes the judge who simply doesn't understand the trials and tribulations of a multi-tasking single mother with behavioral problems negotiating her child's breakfast.
Court: . . . will continue matter until she can show up in court next week since we are clearly inconveniencing her. 🙄
Ayonna: I'm just a single mother with no help. You're not going to tell me I can't feed my daughter; that's never going to happen. Is it ok if I give my daughter breakfast?
Court: We are in court here. This is a court proceeding. ⚖️
Ayonna: Ok. Just be hungry. 😏
Four years probation because the judge's gnarly attitude is taking it out on me? Girl, what are you talking about? Bitch, you're gonna' tell me I can't feed my daughter? She can kiss my ass! I'm livid. Livid! 🤬
Jamahl: At the end of the day filled with dickheads, we still gotta' bite our tongues.
I'm not selfish; I've just decided that taking your feelings into consideration is too much damn work.
Keep Your Head High and Your Middle Finger Higher
For someone more accustomed to being abused than amused, Candice has said "I love you" to Andrew more times than the repetitive phrase, turn down for what, in the party anthem by DJ Snake and Lil Jon of the same name. While Andrew, true to his word, kneels and immediately proposes, Candice hesitates, and in that moment, resembles a raw double-chinned Pillsbury dough girl with an unnatural sheen, a face too sunken in its gravity to show happiness, and sad raisin eyes reflecting physical distress. But Andrew doesn't clock any of this; he's carrying out his promise to Candice's mom in a dream he made up though she has more eyes on her truck as she doubtless recalls her fond days of street racing, driving without a license, attempted stolen vehicle, felony burglary and constantly running from the police. If she were wearing cargo pants, she could stuff them with the faux Louis Vuitton handbag contents to savor as she completes her halfway house program so she can change addresses. If he could see past his own needs, he'd notice she was trying to figure where the hell he got the idea she cared. If I've cut you, it's because you handed me the scissors.
Patience: What You Have When There Are Too Many Witnesses
Joey is taking advice from Minerva, a sex columnist who looks like Chris Farley in drag who was super stoned and wandered into the backrooms of "Saturday Night Live" for a costume change and makeup refresh before rehearsing his Fellatio 101 sketch outlined on a chalkboard: Watch amateur porn for tips. Practice dirty talk. Get excited about being excited. Use both hands simultaneously and don't bogart that spit. Don't forget, steady wins the race. Freshen up before getting online and spending money for a rented motel room far away from your parents so you can have 15 minutes of precious sexy time before your monogamous lover warns you to deactivate your online profile that his friend saw. Hey, I found your nose; it was in my business.
The King Eats First
Once again, the kids are savvier than their parents. A striking Cheyenne and Nehemiah adjust their schedules to Rob's extended sentence that Tennie tries to embroider in her naïveté while every family member is worried about their displacement when Rob physically enters the picture even though he's already there in camera spirit. It's a which-came-first-the-chicken-or-the-egg question - is it a good thing the alpha male has streams-of-revenue for Tennie's shopping jones or is she shopping because she's worried about getting with an alpha male? He's a poker king like Marcelino making 6-7K a month in jail even though online playing for real money is prohibited, and I doubt his pod mates have that kind of extra cash regularly available. Any man in this day and age who can tell a woman to "sit down and be cute" must have it figured out as a lion doesn't care about a sheep's opinion. I bring too much to the table to be treated like a napkin.
Does One of Your Balls Hang Lower Than the Other?
Rick looks like a twig the wind blew off a tree or a stranded lost lamb in a field surrounded by hungry landlocked predators looking for a banquet. Sandy is sending him pictures of the reunion to remind him of her existence while 4x-married Samantha is positioning herself to long-distance bullrope and hog tie her bachelor into a ball-and-chain before he has time to think about how he's going to stretch a rigorously set pension into providing her commissary and visitation requests. His pickleball buddy, Dan, doesn't really give a damn; it's only his nieces who are rightfully tut-tutting her dictatorial attitude and snarking, "Fifth time is a charm." "Maybe I do have options," Rick muses, but then turns around and crows, "She builds me up." Sure, right after she shakes him up - like a snow globe. It ain't what you don't know that gets you in trouble; It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.

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

Mischief walks up to the blue crystal clock. She spins the the big hand with her magic and the little hand lands of three. A blue flame is lit. Mischief walks away into the darkness; the light from the blue clock making her look like a silhouette.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuZbmLLv1vM

A bead of sweat falls down Mischief head. Her hair on the ground and her back up august the wall. Mischief had been doing a headstand for the last thirty minutes. In her mind, doing this action once a week was a good way to keep her blood flowing and strength high. Sun walked outside and saw Mischief up august the wall. 

“Are you gonna stand there all day”, Sun asks, holding a peach in his hand.
“You should try it”, Mischief said under the pressure. She uses her feet to push off the rock and picks herself up. “It helps with strength endurance and it help you think.”
“Hard pass”, Sun says, biting the peach. “You know I’m not good with my arms.” Mischief smirks and says, “That’s not what I heard from Ne Zha~” Sun stopped walking and almost chocked on the chunk of peach in his mouth. He looked over at Mischief and said in embarrassment, “Could you not bring Him up?”
“Why? What’s the problem”, Mischief teased. “Oh right, you still like him.” Mischief laughs and then says, “After a millennia and you still haven't told him?” Mischief continues to laugh while Sun burns a bright red and shouts, “Can you shut up?!” Sun starts to hit Mischief head and she still laughs.
“Okay, Okay, I’ll stop”, Mischief says. Sun stops laughing and crosses his arms in annoyance. “Go train Mk. I’ll see you in a bit.” Sun walks out to the training dojo. Mischief smiles but then holds her head in pain with both of her hands. She keeps her eyes shut and feels herself being surrounded by darkness. Even when her eyes where shut, she could see a being covered in a moon themed cloak.
“No…! Why are you here?!” The being looks back; her eyes glowing a light blue. She turns and starts to walk over to Mischief. Mischief raises her hand and cast a spell, but the being covered in the moon cloak faces Mischief.
I am you, as you are me.
We are two become one.
Mischief opens her eyes once the pain subsides and sees that the world around her is normal. She looks around to see if anybody else is there. No one. Mischief looks at her hands and sees then shaking with fear.
“No…. not this night…! Please, not this night….!” Mischief walked back into the house and looked around for a quill and scroll.

Mischief walks back outside to see Mk and Sun training. She sits under a shady area near the entrance to the waterfall. Mk jumps back and lands on the mountains wall. She pushes himself off and charges at Sun from above. Sun smirks and jumps directly up while Mk crashed to the ground. 

“Missed me again”, Sun said. He picks up Mk with his tail and asks, “Now how did I win?”
“Misdirection”, Mk guesses.
“Correct”, Sun says.
“That seams like a shady lesson”, Mischief yells.
“Too soon sis.” Mk chuckles a bit.
“I’m just saying the truth”, Mischief says. She walks over and whispers, “And I bet Ne Zha would say the same thing if he was here.” Sun gets an annoyed look on his face and says, “Whatever. And plus, I was always better at fighting than you.”
“Oh really?”
“Wait a second”, Mk interrupted, “You two have fought before?”
“Yeah. But it was for training purposes”, Sun says.
“Now that you mention it, we haven't trained in a while”, Mischief says. “What do you say, but brother?” Sun smirks and says, “Your on.”

Mischief and Sun get into their fighting positions on each side of the training ground. Mk sits on the stairs in anticipation. 

“Not using your weapon sis?”
“I don’t need it”, Mischief said with a smirk on her face. Sun chuckles under his breath and says, “Your done if I land this.” Sun charges to Mischief at full speed. Mischief closes her eyes and smirks. She moves out of the way and pushes her brother to the wall. Sun blinks a few times in confusion and looks back to sees Mischief untouched.
“I’m waiting.” Sun runs over to Mischief and tried to hit her multiple times but each time, Mischief blocks his attacks over and over. “Wow, brother. Your getting rusty.”
“I’ll show you rusty”, Sun exclaims. He jumps back and starts to attack with his legs.
“Not really effective!” Mischief takes Sun’s leg and pins him down with her foot. “Moon: 1. Sun: 0. I win again.”
“Mischief, let me up”, Sun says. Mischief moved her foot off of Sun’s back and says, “I thought you fought celestial beings bigger than me. You sure your not getting rusty?”
“He’s not”, Mk says. “He beat Demon Bull King, Spider Queen, and More! He’s strong enough to fight the Jade Emperor!” Mischief could hear her thoughts snap in half. She chuckles to herself in annoyance and says under her breath, “Yeah…. Sure…” Mischief then holds her head in pain.
“Mischief, are you okay”, Sun asks. He holds her shoulders.
“I’m fine”, Mischief says. “It’s just a headache. And I don’t think I’ll be able to train Mk tonight.”
“It’s okay”, Mk says. “Plus, I promised Mei I would help her fix her bike”
“Thank you, Mk.”

The full moon shines from above the mountain; its rays passing the peek of the mountain. A being covered in a night themed cloak looks down on the city below. She turns back and jumps backward. She closes her eyes and summoned a portal under her. The portal was covered in shadows and it’s magic was a dark blue. The being fell thought the portal and landed on a roof with grace and elegance. She looks back and sees the lights on in each building from each block ahead. 

“Now… where are you?”

Mk walks down the street of the city. He was walking home from Mei’s bike shop and he was hoping to get some well needed rest. 

“This is the last time I stay out this late”, Mk thinks to himself. He looks up and sees a being silhouetted bu the light of the moon. “Who is that?” Mk squints his eyes and sees the being crying up at the moon. “Are they crying?” Before Mk could call to the person, they jumped to the next roof and vanish into the night. Mk runs to the end of the block but doesn’t see the being.
“That person….. Why where they crying?”

“I’m sorry, say that again?” 

“I saw a person last night”, Mk explains. “It looked like they where crying.” Mischief stopped in her tracks and hides behind the house. She looks to her right and back down to the floor.
“H-How, the, Hell, did he see me”, Mischief thought with worry, panicking in her mind. Her racing thoughts coming to a halt. Mischief touched her broach and thought, “He was with Mei that night. He must have been walking home when he saw me.” Mischief lied the back of her head on the house wall and says, “Damn you, Moon Maiden…!” Mischief sighs and thinks, “There’s no way I can control her at this rate.” Mischief walks back to the front and sees Mk and Sun walking to the top of the mountain.
“Where are you two going?”
“We’re going to train at the top of the mountain”, Sun says. “Wanna come?”
“Sorry, not this time”, Mischief says. “I still have a bit of a headache.”
“Oh… does that mean no training tonight either”, Mk asks.
“I’m sorry, Mk”, Mischief says.
“It’s alright. Take care of yourself. We can train when you feel better.” Mischief smiles. She then remembered how her mentor from years past was so understanding. She saw a lot of them in Mk. “Well see you later.” Mk and Sun walked up the path to the top of the mountain. Mischief looks off to the side is sadness. She hated lying to Mk and her brother, but she had to protect them at all cost. She could risk to lose them like she lost…… her….
Mischief sits on a rock near the edge of the cliff and looks up at the sky. It had almost been a month since she had been away from the celestial realm: her home. She wondered if the cheetah twins had been playing in the celestial forest around this time. She touches her broach and says, “I miss you, mother…..” Pink magic flew around Mischief and a scroll appeared. Mischief catches the scroll and looks at the wax seal. “This is Ne Zha’s crest.” Mischief opens the scroll and a necklace rolls into her lap. She looks at the necklace and then read the scroll as follows:
Mischief,

**It’s good to hear from you again. I heard from your mother that you moved to earth. I hope Sun hasn’t been giving you too much of a headache. I did some research on what you told me about and it lead me to this necklace. And I also found out that the reason your alter ego is coming out on her own is because she hasn’t been bound. One of your ancestors had the same problem and they had a solution. The necklace I set you is called the moon of Apithaea. It has the power to control your alter ego’s rage. It might help you. I hope you get a hendel on your powers.** 

Could you tell sun I said hi?
-Ne Zha
Mischief chuckles and says, “Looks like Ne Zha hasn’t changed one bit. Still the same helpful prince I know.” She smirks. “And his interest in Sun hasn’t left at all.” Mischief looks at the necklace and then placed it around her neck. “Thank you, Lotus.”

Mk and Sun fight along the mountain Plato. However, Mk couldn’t couldn’t really concentrate. He was worried about Mischief, and he was thinking about the person he saw the other night. Mk was so distracted that he didn’t realize that he had left an opening for Sun to hit him. Sun stops his attack midway. 

“You got distracted.” Mk lowers his staff and shudders, “S-Sorry.”
“Are you okay? You seam distracted”, Sun points out.
“I’m worried about Mischief”, Mk says. Sun looked at Mk and the to the side of him, thinking of how to help Mk. she smiles and says, “Kid, follow me. I wanna show you something.”
“What is it?” Sun taps on the ground and a hatch opens. “Now way! How long had this been here?”
“A long time”, Sun says. He jumps and and says, “Come on!” Mk jumps down the hole and lands in a cavern like cave.
“Whoa…. Had this always been down here”, Mk asks.
“Yup”, Sun says. Mk looks ahead and sees a crystal floating above a pedestal; it’s light casting along the floor. Mk walks up to the crystal and asks, “What is this?”
“This is the crystal of the sun”, Sun explains. “This crystal has protected this mountain for a very long time. It was made over three millennia ago.”
“It’s amazing.” Mk takes a closer look at and then gets a vision.
Mischief looks back at someone; her face angry and upset.
She says something but her words are distorted and scrambled.
“She was your mentor!”
Mk blinks a few times and moves his hand away from the crystal. Sun notice Mk’s discomfort and asks, “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m fine”, Mk reassures Sun.
“If you say so.” Sun says.
“Hey, Monkie King? Can I ask you something?”

Mk and Sun walk along the roof of a building. 

“Are you sure the person you saw the other night is gonna be here”, sun asked.
“I’m sure of it”, Mk says. The two look around. Mk looks to the north and sees the same person from the other night. “Hey!” Sun looks over to see Mk running over to the hooded person.
“Mk, wait!”
“Um. Excuse me?” The hooded figure looks back; her eyes covered in shadows. “I noticed you the other night and I wanted to meet you.” The hooded figure looks at Mk for a second.
“MK…..?”
“You know who I am?” Sun takes a closer look at the hooded woman and gains a surprised look on his face.
“Mischief?” The being blinks a few times and then says, “I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.” She tries to walk away, but Sun holds her by the solder which makes Mischief’s necklace break off. The necklace falls to the ground and Mischief’s head hands low.
“Mischief? Are you okay”, Sun asks. Mischief looks back with her glowing eyes piercing Sun’s soul from within. Sun could feel a chill go up his spine. “Um, Mischief?” Mischief rushes back and attacks Sun. “Sis! Stop! What are you doing?!”
“Anyone who get’s in my way will be destroyed”, She yells. Sun whips around and holds his sister down with all the strength he has within him.
“Mk, get the necklace”, he shouts. Mk looks over and sees the necklace. He runs over and picks it up. Mischief looks over in panic and rage.
“No!” She breaks free from her brothers hold and rushes over to Mk and holds him by his collar. Sun tries to rush over to Mischief, but she puts of a barrier. She looks up at Mk and says, “I will not be locked up like a prisoner!”
“What? I don’t get it. Who are you”, Mk asks, struggling to break free. Mischief chuckles to herself, looks up at Mk and says, “So she didn’t tell you? Your her apprentice. Surely you can tell the difference.”
“What?”
“You don’t know? I am–!” Before she could finish her sentence, A ghostly rendition of Mischief, the real Mischief, Holds back her own body. Mk falls to the ground and looks up to see the scene taking place before him.
“Mischief?”
“Mk, I’m sorry”, Mischief exclaims. “I got you and my brother rapped up in this!” Sun runs over and helps up Mk.
“Mischief, who is this”, Mk asks.
“Moon Maiden”, Mischief answers, struggling to hold her back. “She’s my alter ego. I can’t control her without the necklace! Get it!” Sun and Mk run over to the necklace. “You have gone out of control for the last time! You going back where you belong!” Moon maiden holds Mischief by her neck and says, You really think you can control me?! I am half of you that lingers in your shadow! The dark side of light! You can’t escape me, Mischief Wukong!” Mischief puts her hand on Moon Maiden’s arm and says, “No…”
“What?”
“Your right. You are part of me. But you are nothing but an alter ego! I have been through hell and back! I have lost my way over and over, but I never gave up! I have kept you back for over two damn millennia, and I’m not stopping now”, Mischief shouts, felling herself gaining power. Mischief breaks free and holds Moon Maiden with her magic. “NOW!” Mk and Sun put the necklace on Moon Maiden. Mischief lies up and forces herself back into her body. Mischief looks in the darkness and faces her alter ego. “I know you are part of me, and it’s time to make peace with the past”, Mischief says. She puts out her hand to her alter ego. “And I want you to face it with me. If you allow me to.” Moon Maiden looks down and says, “Then I guess we really are one in the same.” She takes Mischief hand.
“We are two become one. The shadow of the sun.”

Mischief gains breath and she holds herself up. 

“M, are you okay”, Sun asks.
“I’m alright”, Mischief says.

“Alter ego, Huh? That’s a new one”, Sun says. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her before”, Mischief says. “I though I could control her on my own, but I can’t even do that right.”
“Mischief, you can talk to us”, Mk says. “We’re here for you.” Mischief looks at both Mk and Sun and says, “You know, I think me coming down here was a blessing in disguise. I’m glad you two are here with me.” The trio smiles.

Hi everyone, i can give more details if anyone is willing to help and i apologize if my post is confusing, im just unsure where to focus writing on this issue and im not very smart. My PC is unable to start and it shows me a blue screen and asks to restore windows. i have some music in Fruity Loops that i would like to keep on there so i tried to restore from multiple different old save points (at least i think thats what i did?) but that didn't seem to fix the issue at all so far. if im unable to save any of my data like pictures or songs, i would still be very happy if i could use the computer again. Im pretty upset about this as playing piano or making songs were the main ways i used to de-stress before this. im a support worker for people with disabilities so i have no money for a new computer, i dont even have money for internet so it was basically just a Fruity Loops machine anyway lol so if i cant have any of my songs, i was also wondering how i can restore my windows from a thumb drive as i dont understand the details. maybe there's a guide i cant find here? if i cant restore it at all, what part of my pc do i have to replace? anything whatsoever would be really appreciated so much! thanks even if you dont reply!

Hey all!
My second (much shorter) script!
This is based on real events. My childhood dog was put to sleep when I was sat in a bar one time, and the barmaid who served me was so lovely to me about it. She had some mutual friends that I knew and posted about me on Facebook afterwards. I never forgot how nice she was, and was really sad to learn she died a few years back in a car accident :(
In honour of her, and the kindness of strangers, I put together this little script below.
I doubt anyone will want to, but open for YouTube/Patreon etc and monetization. Just credit and link to me :)
Sound of clinking glasses. Maybe some background noise but the bar isn’t too busy.

Barmaid
Hey, what can I get you? Pint of lager? Sure thing, coming up.

Sound of pint being poured.

Barmaid
There you go. [specifies the price – the currency of your country] Thankyou.

Sound of drink being drunk quickly.

Barmaid
Are you okay? Sorry, don’t mean to pry, but you look a little down.

Sound of a phone ringing. More clinking glasses for a second.

Barmaid
A shock of straight whisky? Urm, okay. Here you go. Look, are you sure you’re okay? It’s just, you’re on your own, it’s midday, and you’re downing whisky. Plus, don’t often see people your age in here.
(softly)
You may have noticed, our cliental is a bit older than you.
(louder)
No offence, Brian. You still look no older than 50!
(softly)
I swear that guy was coming in here before they invented the TV.

Sound of a drink being drunk quick. A bit of a gasp.

Barmaid
Yeah, that stuff is pretty grim on it’s own. Would you like some water? What was that? Oh no, really? I’m so sorry hon.
(voice softens)
When did it happen? Just now? That was your Dad on the phone? Oh, honey, that’s really sad. I don’t think a lot of people fully appreciate how much pets are a big part of our life. Here, let me get you some water.

Sound of water being poured.

Barmaid
There you go. Drink that. Trust me. You’re too young to be downing whisky like this. It’s okay, you can have a little cry if you want. Nobody’s going to mind here. We’re really not that busy. I just need to dry these glasses.
(beat)
Nope, I don’t have a pet. My arsehole landlord won’t allow them! My mum has a cat though. To be honest, he’s a right vicious sod. Scratched my arm last week. But she loves him to bits. He gets better food than I do! Was yours a cat, or… a dog? Aww, I love dogs! They’re tying, but they bring so much love to a house. What breed was yours?
(beat)
A boxer girl? Aww, they’re awesome dogs! So funny. Great with kids. I’m guessing you were young when you got her?
(beat)
10? Aww man, I’m jealous. I always wanted a dog but mum always said no. Said they were too messy, but I could have a goldfish. Won one at a fair once. Ended up down the toilet two days later. Sorry, I know I’m rambling on. Do you want to be alone?
(beat)
Well, I’m just here then. You can tell me about your girl if you like. What was her name?
(beat)
Sorry, I misheard… Crotchet? That’s an, urm, unusual name. If you don’t mind me asking… oh, you mean like the music note? Ahh I see! You play piano? Your sister’s idea, eh? No, it isn’t silly! Come on, my mum’s cat is called Miss Kitty Fantastico. Yeah, really. No, I don’t know either.
(beat)
You got her when she was eight weeks old? Aww I bet she was so cute! Yeah, I’d love to see a photo! Aww, look at her! I bet she followed you guys around everywhere! I can see her in the sea there with you two! Dogs love swimming, don’t they? Oh, boxers not really a big fan of it? Looks like she didn’t want to leave you guys alone in the scary water then! Bet you’ve got lots of stories about her. What, a ‘famous poop’?
(beat)
Oh my god, no way! So your mum picked her up mid-poop to try and stop her? Bet it went all over her carpet! Haha, I’m not surprised she was fuming! Sure she was a good girl when she got older, though?
(beat)
Haha really? She just sat down mid-walk and refused to move? You know, my uncle had an old lab once that used to do that. They’d get half way up a hill near his house and his dog would just sit and stare at him. He wouldn’t budge until my uncle turned round, then he’d jump up like a snake had bit him. He was called Bullet.
(beat)
Yeah, Bullet slowed down a lot as he got older too. Couldn’t be bothered to get out of his chair. Crotchet was the same? Bet she thought she was royalty. Awww, look at her on the sofa. Yeah honey, she does look a bit ill there. That’s her last photo? Aww, bless her.
Well, from those pics it really looks like she had a great life. She was clearly adored by you all. It does suck that we have to lose them so soon, but if she was in pain then at least she is at peace now. Aww, it’s okay, please don’t worry. You have a little cry. There, there. It’s okay.
(beat)
It’s hard today, but eventually you’ll focus on the good times. The times in the park, that day on the beach, her ‘famous poop’. You were blessed to have her there with you to grow up with. Bet she didn’t like it when you cried, did she? She wouldn’t want you to be sad. And I’m a firm believer that the ones we love never truly leave us. You feel sad now, but just picture here there, watching over you and wagging her tail.
It’s probably the last thing you want to think about now, but one day you may get another pet. They’ll be different, but they’ll also do little things that remind you of Crotchet, and you’ll smile to yourself. My uncle got a little Dalmatian called Freddie and they’re inseparable. It’s kinda funny.
(beat)
Okay honey. You go. Take care of yourself, and I’m sorry for your loss.

I am probably not DID. I do refer to myself as the Dart Collective.
I am in therapy for CPTSD. Adding ADHD, and perhaps some Autism adds intererst. My doc precribed the ADHD drugs to see if they would help with my focus. They do. My T. says a diagnosis of autism wouldn't make any difference in treatment, and since it costs about a thousand bucks to get 6the diagnosis, I ahven't bothered. I test well above threshold on most of the online tests.
I've taken the DES II test a couple times. Depending on how literally I take the percentage answers I get a score between 15 and 30.
I'm pretty functional. My reaction to trauma was to numb emotions. Generally I don't find emotions very useful, and I find being able to partially mute them to be an advantage.
However in the 2 years of therapy, I've become more aware of my emotional state and more aware of somatics. I rarely fully dissociate. Dual awareness has helped me with this. In some ways it's too bad. Turning my brain off was convenient and peaceful.
Here's the new thing however:
I have a new form of hijacking. Perhaps it's always been here and only now am I noticing it.
Persona A: High energy. Almost manic. Quick witted, hard working, very positive. Confident.
Persona B: Down. Lower edge of window of tolerance. Indifferent. Doom scrolls. Reluctant to go to bed.
Persona C: Very creative. Improvises on piano. Comes up with lots of ideas.
Persona D: Toxic shame. Low libido. Asexual in outlook.
Persona E: Reckless. Ignores bad consequences.
Persona F: High Libido. Tries to hookup with half the guys on Grindr.
Persona G: Law abiding, rule follower.
Persona H: Rebel. Shit disturber.
These persona are not exclusive. I get mixes of them. Unlike emotional flashbackes persona mixes can hang around for days.
But I don't consider them alters: When I'm in a mix, the contrary components are just, well wrong. "That's just wrong", the Ace persona thinks about the HL persona.
Some naturally go together. E and H for example. But I can be E, without being H. E.g. As E I will try pushing harder on trampoline, but am not rebellious. As H: I can quietly and carefully plan my fecal material redistribution plots.
But I don't think of these as alters. Near as I can tell there is no discontinuity of memory. So they all share the same memory space.
So how do less capable parts become Alters?
Some extra info. I've recognized parts. Only a few have ever communicated in words. Mostly it's playing 20 questions visualling scenes and 'feeling' if there is a resonance. There have been some intrusive memories (e.g. I was tell my parts,"this was long ago. And it happened only once" and in my minds eye, a toddler stood, an expression of defiance on his face, right arm raised, with a hand with fingers splayed. And I **knew* that splayed fingers didn't mean Five,but rather it meant Many.)
The CSA at age 3 is at this point only highly probable. Changes in behaviour are consistent with it. But on top of this I don't seem to have formed much of an attachment bond with either parent. Parents didn't take to Dr. Spock, and so believed in the prior theory that children should be handled as little as possible consistent with them being fed, clean, and the right temperature. Fortunately my sister (13 yr older) stepped in. Sis also stopped one attempt of my mom to throw me at the wall.
I have a 2+ year old part, i think formed as a reaction to being left for 3 days at a local hospital. I needed eye surgery for a lazy eye. I have an early memory of standing in a crib, watching mom retreat down a hallway through a pair of double doors. I met this part in a lucid dream, hearing an argument coming from a house that matched the one I grew up in. Rest of the neighbourhood was very different. I call him bluestrip, as he wears a yellow tee with horizontal blue strips with faint green lines on the edges of the blue where the dye ran. Later I found pics of me wearing horizontally striped shirts. Alas, black and white pics.
There is Socks. He's post trauma, whatever happened. Refuses to be seen outside bed/bath not fully clothed. Including socks. Rest of my family was often barefoot. I also insisted on wearing underwear under my PJs Never went swimming. Never undressed to play in the sprinkler. Didn't wear shorts in summer until about age 9.

Hello everyone!
I’m experiencing an issue with my Roland FPE-50 and I’m hoping someone here can help. The sound characteristic is a static noise that resembles muffled radio static or vinyl scratching. This noise only occurs when playing the piano and not when the piano is idle. Interestingly, the issue does not happen when the piano is connected via Bluetooth and used as a speaker.
The noise changes with the frequency of the note played. High notes produce a certain resonance, while low notes result in a more substantial fuzzy static effect. The static has a rhythmic whirring that changes with the note frequency, and higher notes shorten the duration of the whirring effect. This issue occurs intermittently, with periods of normal operation without any noise.
I haven’t noticed any specific environmental factors or external devices causing interference. Given that the issue does not occur when using the piano as a Bluetooth speaker, it seems to be a potential internal or connection-specific problem.
Has anyone encountered a similar issue or have any suggestions on how to fix this? Any advice would be greatly appreciated!
Thanks!

[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]

Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
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And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

Hi brilliant redditors,
Background: My girlfriend (19F, transfem) and I (23M) have been together for a couple of months and all goes really well. We are long distancing (8h timezones apart) so we mostly interact online. Before relationship I played a lot of csgo/cs2, clocking for 1500 hours, but kinda sucks with a historical best at MG2. I used to queue with 3-4 friends and just playing for fun, not really caring about the result. The start of our relationship coincides with me went to study abroad, so I don't have friends that I can play with anymore, and I stopped playing.
She also plays some FPS games like the COD series and Destiny 2, so she thinks her FPS skills would transfer, but have basically no background in the CS franchise.
Recent event: For the last several weeks, she seemed to really want to play CS2 with me, but whenever we queue together, we end up facing people who's much stronger than her, and she usually end up bottom fragging. The game play experience makes her frustrated, because she usually just aim somewhere and an enemy pops out elsewhere, and she dies before she can react. (For people who never played it, competitive Counter Strike is extremely unfriendly and un-fun to new players.) I haven't played much really and also sucks at the game, so I'm unable to carry; even if I do, her experience would be terrible nonetheless. I can hear her frustration in our call. I don't understand why she would want to play the game even when her entire experience is like this -- even after a 2/20kd game she would still ask me to queue again.
Usually after 2-3 games like this, one of us would rage quit. Not the "smash a keyboard or a monitor" kind of rage -- I would refuse to queue again, we just hang up on our call and not really try to talk to each other. This makes me sad and I don't know how to deal with this. I would say I'm even trying to avoid playing the game for a while but she still asks for it. We don't argue often and I don't know how to handle this kind of situation.
Attempts: I suggested other games. The games she usually play (destiny 2 pvp etc) take too much time to get started (she said "you won't have a good time without 1k hours"). We have played most of the commonly suggested couple games and more: it takes two, overcooked, human fall flat, portal 2 coop, and some niche ones that one of us like (puzzles from me and VNs from her). Also other activities like watching anime/netflix/youtube with teleparty. When she's in that frustration state, none of my suggestions work.
Note: I know this situation sounds much like "girls wanna do smth but guy just focuses on gameplay" kind of stuff but I'm just this dumbhead at my first real relationship. I would appreciate the help from anyone who actually knows how to talk to girls.

Kena: Bridge of Spirits is such a good game despite being so… well… basic.
It’s simple — almost overly so — yet it is beloved by so many seasoned and experienced gamers.
What I got curious about after playing the game myself and reading a number of pseudo-reviews online was how exactly it achieved this.
How did a package so entry-level-looking garner such respect by 201 and 301 students?
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The ‘Fields’ region is a great example of Kena’s dichotomy.
It’s gorgeous and inviting, with sea-foamed vistas, lush landscape and rushing waterways. There’s a even a big, lovable pet bull towering over the myriad of cute little Rot dudes scampering through the foliage. The whole place is just friendly.
Why then, does it end up being one of the game’s longest, deepest and most complex sections? Consider its many scattered puzzles, which ask you to combine platforming, archery, environmental awareness and combat proficiency. There’s even a handful of red herring platforms that you can’t properly interact with until later in your puzzle solving endeavor.
The ‘Fields’ are a microcosm of the game as a whole. A childish, Pixar-esque shell which, when uncovered, reveals a complex, involved gameplay experience underneath.
Kena: Bridge of Spirits invites you to be a kid, but treats you like an adult. This is something very few games manage — or even attempt — and it’s what makes Kena so unique, memorable and special.
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Kena crushes its tone and aesthetic on all fronts to create something that’s desirable and attainable to a group outside of hardcore gamers.
Kena’s visuals are youthful and welcoming by using cartoonish and fairytale-esque art design. The game’s companions do the same — the Rot are your constant brigade of adorable little plush-like, Pikimin-esque comrades who hop as you walk, munch on berries, clumsily trip over each other, and squeak in pitches that can only described as ‘cute.’ You can even give them little hats to wear. They’re pets and it’s all so mired in youthful innocence that I cringe even typing it.
From a distance, Kena appears childish and immature based on its outward appearance. That is, until you peel back its outer layer.
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The game looks like something your five-year-old might enjoying toying with on your iPad, “you-got-games-on-yo-phone?” style. But there are four elements in its building blocks that make it a game not optimized for your five-year-old on their own;

1. Narrative
2. Puzzles
3. Platforming
4. Combat

Narrative
As far as the game’s story is concerned, it may begin bright and innocent enough, but it deals not-abstractly with death and loss.
Consider that all three boys you meet in the early game — Taro, Benni and Saiya are actually dead, I-see-dead-people style. Consider also that Kena’s entire journey revolves around the loss of her own father and her desire to reconnect with him.
Additionally, it is Toshi’s selfishness and his desire to be the hero that actually ends up bringing death and destruction to his village when he jumps the gun and kills and the mountain spirit in cold blood.
Merciless affronts on nature and an up-front dealing with death and grief are not exactly for the young of age, despite their youthful packaging.
Puzzles
It would be a waste of word count to explain in detail the steps necessary to complete certain puzzles in Kena just as a set of examples to prove the point.
If you’ve played or watched gameplay, you know the puzzles are surprisingly involved, consisting often of multiple steps to complete that build on each other and require the use of all of your abilities in tandem.
One of the bigger “ah-hah” moments I recall was when I realized I could order my Rot minions to move objects while Kena stood on top of said object in order to give me a leg up to jump to a previously unreachable ledge.
Platforming
Speaking of ledges, jumping to and from them is tight and precise in Kena.
Platforming challenges are often timed (your aura-bomb weapon only activates platforms for specifically-timed bursts). Combining their scheduled nature with the need to rotate them via precise archery, mid-air grappling segments and more makes for a movement experience that is involved enough to demand the player’s full attention for every tick of the clock.
Kena and her world’s gravity also have a decided, predictable weight to them that’s not exactly forgiving, meaning the act of jumping to and fro is exact while also requiring exactness.
Combat
Fighting the enemies of Kena is similarly involved.
The cadence with which the game throws opponents your way combined with the complexities of dealing meaningful damage to said opponents creates a combat scenario which demands the player fluidly wield and swap between both melee and ranged options while carefully managing space on the battlefield.
Kamikaze-style enemies often rush Kena in carefully-spaced and well-timed waves, while enemies with shields and shells hide their weak points from visibility. Enemies like this require certain sequences to beat — be it a well-placed bomb and arrow combo, a parry, or a maneuvering to an enemy’s backside.
Boss encounters lean into these mechanics but also present new wrinkles — The Hunter fight asks the player to rethink their tactics and find a way to deal with an airborne opponent who is apt at dodging bombs and arrows, for example.
The final few bosses ask you to take everything you’ve learned throughout your journey and apply it all at once, and if you don’t… it’s defeat for Kena.
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The above sounds like I’m describing a souls-like with platforming elements as the ‘fresh take’ in addition to the enrapturing combat.
Games that provide this much of a challenging, involved experience are typically darker in tone — be it music, environment, or what-have-you. I don’t think too many people would call Kena ‘hard,’ but these are the same people who died 10+ times to The Hunter or Corrupted Toshi.
If this game had a darker, moodier skin, would more people describe it as hard or not for the faint of heart?
In this way, Kena: Bridge of Spirits is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
It is accessible to new players and younger gamers due to its pleasing and friendly atmosphere. But by its conclusion, it is likely to season them into better gamers. If a newbie gamer picks up Kena, they’re in for a surprise and (hopefully) delight when they find something deeper than that which they first expected.
On the other hand, Kena is a worthwhile experience for veteran gamers if they drop their toxic masculinity and play a goofy kids game with a female protagonist. This is a game that will undoubtedly earn their respect by requiring their attention, precision and commitment throughout its experience. Like the newbie gamers, gaming veterans are in for a surprise and (certainly) delight when they find something deeper than that which they first expected.
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Kena: Bridge of Spirits is a good experience for everyone. By balancing being adorable with being difficult, it earns the respect and appreciation of everyone who plays it. Its accessibility makes it easy to recommend to anyone and the game thus earns itself a bigger audience as a result.
Its narrative and gameplay might not separate themselves in terms of newness from a saturated market, but the surprise and delight the game provides delivers an experience to its players that isn’t typical of the space.
By striking the balance between wolf and sheep, Kena elevates its quality to something beyond just the content within.
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…and yet…
I can’t help but think, as I summarize this article, that if a game is for everyone, doesn’t that, on some level, mean it is also for no one?
I mean, when you look at the game’s narrative or gameplay, it’s not exactly reinventing the wheel here. In fact, Kena does just about nothing new. It spits out the same exact version of a game we’ve been playing for decades in the form of Tomb Raider or Uncharted or The Legend of Zelda or God of War.
Critically speaking, both the gameplay and narrative are pretty damn milquetoast.
You’re in a world infected by some arbitrary Darkness and since you’re Special and The Chosen One™ it’s your job to go around cleansing the world of evil using a combination of environmental platforming, lever and pressure plate puzzle-solving and lock-on-based, sword-swinging driven combat.
It wouldn’t be difficult to make the argument that Kena is bland.
But the discourse around the game just isn’t about that.
The game’s scored an 81 on Metacritic and has a 92% positive review rating on Steam at time of writing. It recouped its development costs in just one month, meaning every sale since then is hitting the bottom line.
People like this game.

Quick aside from me here on something that made me smile — when double-checking the score on Steam for the above info, I found these as the first two reviews at the very top of the queue: “yo wtf. bought this game to chill, why does it feels like im playing souls-like difficulty ass game HAHAHAH.” “Don’t be fooled by the graphics. This game can be a challenge at times, but it is worth the experience.”

So maybe being an experience for everyone really was the kicker?
Or, maybe, it was something else.
In fact, yeah, I can confidently say it was. It’s a game reviewer’s buzzword, but it’s oh-so apt here: polish.
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The entire experience of playing Kena is smooth. There are no framerate drops, no bugs, no broken quests or puzzles, no desynced dialogue and facial animations. Not a single hiccup to speak of.
The game features exacting archery, precise platforming, telegraphed and accurate hitboxes, as well as an unimpeding camera, responsive and weighty combat and legible visual design that accurately communicates with the player.
You can move through Kena virtually unobstructed (until you come across a puzzle you can’t solve, but that’s your problem, not the game’s). Everything is built carefully and gels together in a cohesion that works so fluidly that playing Kena is simply frictionless.
The game’s developers — Ember Lab — nailed the fundamentals, paid attention to detail and play-tested perfectly. Their effort to go above and beyond saved this game from sinking into the obscurity of being completely and utterly Mid.
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It’s frictionlessness that elevates Kena beyond itself. It makes the game greater than the sum of its parts. It makes Kena a complete, finished and polished experience.
Kena presents itself like it’s Disney Pixar’s latest goofy-ass, lame-ass, sub-par video game, but lying underneath the childish aesthetic is a challenging and engaging experience that’s not only a boon for all audiences of gamers, but a worthwhile one thanks to its extreme polish and dedication.
You should play it.