Pain in left arm when stretching arm
Fedora Linux: News and discussion
2008.09.02 23:32 Fedora Linux: News and discussion
A community for users, developers and people interested in Fedora Linux, and news and information about it.
2014.01.29 19:13 itschvy also known as acute vesiculobullous hand eczema, dyshidrotic eczema pompholyx
Dyshidrosis is a skin condition that is characterized by small blisters on the hands or feet. It is an acute, chronic, or recurrent dermatosis of the fingers, palms, and soles, characterized by a sudden onset of many deep-seated pruritic, clear vesicles; later, scaling, fissures and lichenification occur. Recurrence is common and for many can be chronic.
2020.04.23 04:17 Peridot_with_a_Pearl transguns
A place for users of all genders to discuss weapons, strategy, and related topics. Arm trans women, arm trans men, arm enbies! The best option for defensive firearms is a 5.56x45mm AR-15, and a reputable 9x19mm handgun. Defensive firearms should have a WML, long guns a sling, and handguns require a Kydex or solid plastic holster that fully covers the trigger. A red dot or etched optic are ideal but don't forget to practice your backup irons. Be sure to check out TheArmedGayAgenda
2024.05.19 10:05 ggwplucky [Abandoned Pools] Sony Connect Track by Track Interview
![[Abandoned Pools] Sony Connect Track by Track Interview](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/Wh_F6hlvj3-qiM2-gJFE7A7mKUd6-BFPlteTdOzhJWY.jpg "[Abandoned Pools] Sony Connect Track by Track Interview") | A while back I was messing around with the Wayback Machine & came across this diamond in the rough on AP's MySpace page. Also found some photos, but most importantly, a track-by-track [Armed To The Teeth] interview from Sony Connect that they did back in '05 (presumably around the same time they did the Sony Connect set with the acoustic songs). submitted by ggwplucky to AbandonedPools [link] [comments] In the interview, Tommy tells the story behind each track on Armed To The Teeth (except Lucky). You'll also find tidbits about the process, lyrically & sonically of these songs, and much more! If you want to read it/see it from the "raw" source and discover more, here's a link with the Wayback's capture I found on the interview blog: https://web.archive.org/web/20071005015435/http://www.myspace.com/abandonedpools Now without further ado, the Sonic Connect Interview: A track by track discussion of Armed to the Teeth from the Sony Connect Store interview: LETHAL KILLERS TW: As far as how that [demo of the] song was constructed ... I did this trick where I would take a half-time drum loop and sort of nudge it one way and then put in another track and nudge it the other, and we got this sort of double time, rolling drum feel. So that - plus the sort of round-robin type of guitar parts that we have going - was sort of a very easy construction for a song. And then you start moving the bass part around, and, boom, you've got a song. But I think that lyrically - I want to make it clear that that song isn't necessarily [about] "church is bad, government's bad." I think it's a little bit more complicated than that, though sometimes if you mix the two of religious power and government power, that can be bad for both of them. And I kinda like the idea of not living a life saying, "Well, you better live life in a certain way because then, you know, everything's gonna be great later in heaven." You know, the idea of, like, if this is all we have now, if that idea was just a little bit more embraced, our world could be a little bit better. I just find that a little bit more satisfying, too, if you think like, this is all you have and then you're gonna die. [Laughs] It seems a little bit more like, "Oh, okay, well!" instead of, like, thinking that there's some other life at some other time and you can put things off. RABBLE TW: Well, a lot of the songs on this record - about two-thirds of it - have to do with a relationship I had that went south, and you know when you go through relationships you always have such a good 20/20 hindsight about things. And I think "Rabble" is just trying to basically say to somebody, "I just wanted to know you better" . . . It's just one of those things where, with this relationship in particular, I wish it would have turned out better. And there's a lot of things that happened that shouldn't have happened, and it's just sort of one of those "oh, what could have been?" scenarios. THE CATALYST TW: "The Catalyst" is definitely along the same lines. I think the main line in that one is "I wish I could say something beautiful to make you fall in love again." There's a Coachella reference in there, too: "Love has slowly faded away like spotlights shining into space." Have you ever been to Coachella? Of course you have. You know, there's all those spotlights that shoot up in the air. I just thought that was kinda cool, like, how far do those lights really go? "The Catalyst" was also the last song written for the record. It was demoed while we were in the studio. And it's one of those songs that I said two-thirds of the record was written for somebody. That's one of them. TIGHTER NOOSE TW: "Tighter Noose" is the oldest song on the record by far. It was probably written back in '99, 2000, or somewhere in there. I was thinking about it for the first record [2001's Humanistic], but it didn't really fit in with those kind of songs, so I kept it around and we'd even play it live occasionally. I think it fits in with these songs way better. [As for what "Tighter Noose" is about,] that song is one of those breaking-off-on-your-own- what-have-you-got-to-lose kind of things, because that was written sort of in the wake of when I was in The Eels. It wasn't a terribly happy situation, so I was like, well screw it, I'm just gonna go off and do my own thing. And then it's sort of like, well, you know: "I'm gonna go start my own thing. Uh, I have to learn to sing and write songs now." [Laughs] It's kinda funny: "Screw you guys! I'm gonna go get a deal!" And then like, "Uh oh." But really, I'm a firm believer in that [idea that] you just gotta go for it. And so it was like, well, this is gonna be difficult, but it's gonna be better than what I had before. And actually, with some distance on that situation, I realized I made the right decision and made a lot more money and was a lot more happy as a result. So that was sort of a leap of faith, you know. I didn't want to be someone's stupid bass player. Now I'm my own stupid bass player. WAITING TO PANIC TW: There was a lull between record companies. The first record [Humanistic] was on Extasy - I don't know if you know about that company, but we were basically the poster-child for the implosion of an indie label. I came off the road in 2002, the label's folding, and I'm like, well, I'm just gonna go back and give this my best shot and we'll get another deal. It seemed highly unlikely, but we ended up doing it. And there was just a lull in there where nobody was interested. I had attorneys not returning my phone calls - that kinda stuff. It felt like, I'm just waiting around and I'm really anxious. So that was a song of frustration that was written and demoed all in one day - it was a song that just came out of me in like eight hours. We also put an EP out [The Reverb EP] and on the EP is the version of that demo that I did in one day. It doesn't happen [like that] very often. Usually I build bed tracks and come back to it a few weeks later and add something, and then come back a couple of days later. This one was all in one shot. HUNTING TW: My friend Ross Golan, who has his own band Ross Golan and Molehead, had been following the wake of the relationship. He's like, "You just gotta write her a song and use her name." And I'm like, nah, nah, it's not covered enough. And he's like, "No, just do it. Go for it." So I did. I wrote this song and I wrote it for her for her birthday and I used her name, which is in the first lyric of the song, which is "Ginny." So I just went for it and wrote it. It was basically a birthday gift, and it was basically saying, like, you know, "Oops!" [Laughs] It didn't get me very far, but I like the song. We're friends, she's a good girl, absolutely, but back at that time, it was kinda like, "Erraaghhh! Here's a song!" But I like the song and I just think it was one of those times where I was really putting myself out there, and I know she liked it, too. But then, I think that's a myth where you just write a song and all of a sudden the girl just says, "Oh! Okay!" But, you know, hey. There it is. It's on the record. That's the romantic notion of how they'll react to the song, at least. TW: Exactly. And I'm really glad we're past that whole ironic phase, which I was part of with The Eels, where everything was super ironic and we'd play "The Macarena" on stage - [sarcastically] and that was funny! I'm glad we're through all that stuff, even though I was still a Beck fan when he was doing all that stuff, too. But I like being sincere and sappy and romantic. I kinda think that's a great thing. ARMED TO THE TEETH TW: This is one of the first songs written when we came off the road and I had a lot of momentum. If you look at the state of the industry you can see a lot of corporations that seem to have to buy everything in sight. They just have to own everything, and to what purpose? Does it really make the industry much better? No. There's fewer outlets, there's a lot more gatekeepers. They want to buy stuff and it just kinda makes things bad for everybody. All the radio stations play the same shit - except for Indie 103.1 and KCRW in L.A. In spite of it all, I'm just gonna try to do my best and have a career anyway. When we came off the road I felt like I had a lot of momentum. Performing live is inspiring to writing, so it was just the whole idea of, "Alright, now that I have one record under my belt, I'm gonna really go for it in spite of all the forces that be." Even though they're pretty much indifferent to us, [laughs] their actions do affect us. It's sort of a song of bravado. Why did you also choose "Armed To The Teeth" as the name of the album, too, which, in turn, implies it as the overall theme? TW: Yeah, which is funny, since I kinda decided on that theme early on, thinking I was gonna go in a certain way, but then, like I said, two-thirds of the record is love songs. So "Armed To The Teeth" doesn't really fit in a certain way, but I also liked it just because [of] that idea of, like, now I'm really ready to make a record, and also I think it reflects the state of the country a little bit. Everything's a little bit aggressive, we're at war, and I thought it was sort of timely in that way SOONER OR LATER TW: "Sooner Or Later" is another one of those tracks that was written after we got signed, so it's a newer song. I mentioned that sort of double time drum loop thing with "Lethal Killers" - this is the same thing. It's a half time drum loop that I nudged in one direction and then put in another track and nudge it in the other, then "boom," it's double time. And I like that, it's a good effect. It really sets up this kind of overlapping, rolling sound that a real drummer can't do. And things flam a little bit, and I really like that feel, so this song was constructed in the same manner where you have a rolling drum loop and then you put over a couple of guitar parts here and there and all of a sudden you got a song - I think this song is over six minutes. This is, um, I guess it's a couple things. Lyrically, it's sort of saying, like, whatever you do or whatever you say, there's no point in hiding anything because it all comes out in the end - which is the tagline in the chorus. There's no hiding. And in the verse it says, "Sooner or later / It's all coming down." In some way or another, whether you acknowledge it or if it just eats at your self, you can't really get away with anything. It's sort of fatalistic that way, but also in terms of, like, seeing how I also look at as a bigger picture of, like, politically, and since we're at war right now, it seems like things are getting a little scary. And that's kind of like one of those doomsday scenarios. If you look around a little you can really freak yourself out if you're reading about, like, bio-warfare and things like that. So a lot of this talk about "smoking gun in the shape of a mushroom cloud" and all that, it sort of brought up for me a lot of doomsday scenarios. So it's two-fold: it's that doomsday scenario, in terms of as far as the world is concerned, and then, personally, if you do stupid shit then you're eventually gonna pay for it somehow. SAILING SEAS TW: Like "Hunting," this is probably the most direct, out-there storytelling song. Instead of using her [real] name, it's switched to "Holly," which is in the chorus. So it's another one of those songs talking straight to somebody. And there's a lot of details in there that I wouldn't talk about in normal conversation. That's the funny thing about songwriting where I wouldn't talk about this, but then I can put it in this song and you can still hear it and you still understand, but it's sort of masked a little bit. It's presented in a certain way where it's somehow okay to say that when you're in a major key or something. Because like, the second verse is about pretending you're outside a room listening to somebody [you love] have sex [with someone else], and that's a situation to put yourself into to really torture yourself. I created this scenario in my head and I put it in a song, and it's kinda brutal, but the [beat of the] song is upbeat and happy. RENEGADE TW: This is a sample-based type song [with] drum loops. The cello was originally a Bjork sample and we replaced it. This one is sort of hard to explain. To me it’s just sort of like just a creation, because some of the record is social commentary, and I think there's a lot of that in this song, and it's like little snippets and ideas, and not necessarily one unifying idea. I think it's just kind of a song based on looking around and taking stock of things. This song in particular isn't really even about anything. It's just, like, observations, pretty much. And, oh, by the way, Billy Howerdel, the guitarist from A Perfect Circle, is playing guitar on that song. He jumped on that track and he's the one that makes it sound scary. MAYBE THEN SOMEDAY TW: That was one of the first songs written in the wake of the breakup. It was one of those kind of "well-it-just-didn't-work-out-but-maybe-one-day-we'll-see-what-happens" kind of things. Because the circumstances are such that it wasn't gonna happen immediately so I was kinda like, well, we'll see. I don't have much to say about that; it's just grouped in with "songs about her." GOODBYE SONG TW: That was also written when there was not a lot going on for me and we hadn't really nailed down the record deal. She [Tommy's ex-girlfriend] always thought she was bad luck - she'd show up and bad things would start happening - so she thought it was her fault that I hadn't got a deal. She actually moved away and soon as she did, we got a deal. [Laughs] I think it's funny to sort of say, like the first line of the song is "I'm not washed up / And you're not bad luck for anyone," so, you know, get off the ledge, really. And it's just one of those things; it's one of those yearning songs. I think with a lot of those songs there's a certain amount of effort spent on presenting evidence, like, "Look, I know this is how you feel, but look at all the other stuff." It's almost like making a case for your self [in a song]. And like I said, it didn't get me far, but it's still a good venting process. And I sort of realize when I say things like, "I wrote this for her" or whatever, it's not really for her. It's more self-indulgent to get this stuff out. And in a way you're saying, "Yeah, I wrote this song for you," but no, you wrote it for yourself so you could say things that you felt like saying. So I realize that and I think I realized that while I was writing them, but my job is to write songs so you take from what's around you to make it happen. |
2024.05.19 10:04 Sad-Appearance-5137 One upstairs room is hot everywhere else is freezing
I cannot get the temperature controlled in my office. There is one window in the room that gets hardly any sun because it faces south, the garage roof blocks the east sun and there is a house to the west that sits very close to us (about 10 feet) that blocks the setting sun. In spite of that, this room gets hotter than fish grease. The vent is open and everything. Every other room in this house, upstairs and downstairs is colder than a well diggers ass in Idaho, but this room - hot af. It wasn’t always like this. At one time it would be the only room where you could guarantee it would be freezing. I don’t know what happened. I did have a guy replace my ac last year and I think he broke the lever that controls air flow to the different parts of my house. I found the lever broken and sitting on my furnace. Thing is, I can’t tell if the duct it’s opened or not. I’m too afraid to undo the ductwork for fear of an air leak. Is this something I could do on my own? I did change the filter, yes it was dirty. But again, my house is cold…that room is just hot. Also, is there a way to get a dual thermostat. Where they talk to each other, so I dont have to rewire anything. For example, if I put a thermostat in the hot room and set the temperature, will the ac know to blow air into that room to cool it off? I don’t want to fuss with re-wiring, and it also seems like a bit of a reach to have a wireless system know where to push the air specifically when I don’t have the slightest clue which duct from the ac go to which areas in the house. I’m so confused and frustrated because I have no idea what to do to fix this. Finding an hvac company who doesn’t try to charge you and arm, leg and first born is so hard to find. Not to mention, as you all have probably gathered, working in this room literally sucks but there isn’t another place to go in this house. Any advice can help.
submitted by Sad-Appearance-5137 to hvacadvice [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 10:03 Pneuma001 The Primordial
The dungeon master described the party stepping through the wizard's portal into the plane of Elemental Chaos. "Before you lies a tempestuous sea of ever-changing terrain and clashing elements. The portal has opened onto a planetoid floating in the sea of shifting energies. Standing a ways away is a giant humanoid figure that seems to be made out of some of the same energies."
"Giant?" Sara asked?
"Yeah, it's like fifty feet tall. Looking upon its face makes your gut wrench as its face is a pool of ever-churning distorted energies. Make a save versus fear."
The players snatched up dice bags. Twenty-sided dice were rolled all around the table, but Mary, sitting to the right of Sara, noticed that Sara hesitated.
"What did you call these things again?" Sara asked. "Primordials? I didn't really imagine that they'd be so ugly or terrifying... or big."
"Oh, fine," the dungeon master responded. "Ambriel the rogue can have advantage on this check. What is your roll?"
Sara picked up an extra dice, tossed them into the bowl on the table and squinted at them in the dim light of the basement. "I got an eight." she said, frowning.
"Sorry, Ambriel and anyone else that got below a ten is afraid of the figure and will be at a disadvantage for initiative. The figure lets out a scream that sounds like an avalanche in a hurricane. Roll initiative!"
"Nineteen!" the boy across the table said. "Fifteen!" said another after rolling some dice. "I have a plus two, and I only got a twelve." said Mary.
"What about you Sara?" the dungeon master asked.
"Um, I don't want to fight it. Can I try talking to it?"
"I guess so," said the dungeon master, frowning. "What will you try saying to it?
"Well first," Sara started, "Is it at its house?"
The dungeon master and the boys across the table erupted into laughter. The dungeon master managed to stop laughing and reply. "These things don't have houses. They just live outside in the chaos."
"Oh." Sara looked disappointed. "I thought they would have houses." and then quieter. "Maybe a family."
The dungeon master laughed again. "What are you going to say to it?"
"I guess I'll say: 'Greetings friend! Do you know which way it is to the Dark Wizard Malik's tower?'"
The dungeon master laughed yet again. "It doesn't seem to understand what you're saying. It screams again and then attacks. Do you have your initiative number yet?"
Mary had been glaring at the dungeon master. He finally noticed her expression and slouched down, a sheepish look crossing his face as if he knew he was going to be in trouble.
Sara frowned, rolled her dice, and then stated "Six."
The party proceeded to fight with the primordial and Sara participated but wasn't really enjoying the situation. After the beast fell the party raced to loot its corpse.
"What did we find?" the boy across the table asked eagerly.
"Nothing, of course!" the dungeon master announced with some glee in his voice. "The primordial's body has evaporated and merged with the endless chaos around you."
"Well that's at least one thing you got right." Sara said.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked.
"Oh, forget it." Sara responded.
The end of the combat signaled the end of the evening since it was already past eight. The friends scooped dice and character sheets back into their bags, cleaned up the snacks, and said their goodbyes for the evening. Sara walked up the stairs and into the front yard with the other two boys. Chris's mom was there to pick up him and Tyler. She waved at them as they drove away and then started toward her own house just down the street.
The walk was only five minutes, if she took her time, and she had walked this street a hundred times before. She was enjoying the breeze and the crisp night air and didn't notice when the footsteps behind her started. When she noticed them she'd picked up her pace but they grew uncomfortably close. Sara spun around and was faced with a figure in the shadows behind her. It was only a few feet away but she couldn't make out a face.
"What do you want?" She asked the shadow. It did not respond. It did, however, step forward into the glow of the nearby street light. Still, its form appeared like a pitch black hole in the world; a torn place in space the shape and size of a man. The shadow reached toward Sara and she knew that this was an undead being. It had been hoping it could claim the life force of a human this evening; to pull her into the shadow realm and keep her there till she had faded away and become another shadow. Unfortunately for the shadow, she was not a victim that could be claimed so easily.
Sara dropped her book back and grabbed the shadow's arm, glancing down the street to make sure it was clear. Then she released her human disguise and pulled the shadow closer. She stared into the colorless void where its eyes should have been and the shadow stared back into the ever-changing distortion that her face had become. Lightning arced across Sara's skin that now appeared to be made of a roiling mass of stone and waves of pure water.
Sara's outline blurred and her humanoid form faded almost completely, leaving a cloud of elements ever fighting for position, yet she didn't let go of the shadow. The shadow was in a panic now, struggling and desperately trying to free itself from her grasp, to no avail. Sara pulled the shadow inside her cloud and it was ripped and torn by every element until it was gone in just a moment.
Sara concentrated for a moment and reached a human hand out of her cloud of chaos, and picked up her book bag. She formed an arm and shoulder to put the bag on, then a head and some feet and finally squeezed the last bit of her cloud into the shape of a green jacket. "Was she wearing a blue jacket before or a green one?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't really matter." she answered, and changed the jacket to blue.
***************************
Sara, Chris and Tyler walked up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Mary and the dungeon master still sitting at the table. The dungeon master was shuffling some papers, his mind racing with ideas for the next session. Mary stared at him, arms crossed and after a moment she finally spoke. "That was mean, Brian."
Brian looked up from his papers. "What?" he asked defensively with a worried look on his face.
"The primordial we met tonight in the game. That wasn't cool." She mocked an imitation of Brian: "It just lives outside in the chaos. Its sooooo ugly and scary." She crossed her arms again and stared daggers at him. Brian was silent and just looked down at his lap.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought we were supposed to act like we didn't know..."
"You know she's not going to keep playing with us if you keep being an asshole, right?"
Brian frowned and was quiet.
"Don't you like her playing with us?" Mary continued. "She's a way better rogue than Johnathan was. If she leaves and Johnathan finds out we have room at the table then we might have to let him join the party again. Is that what you want?"
Brian shuddered. "No. I do like her playing with us. She is a pretty awesome rogue." They sat in silence for a minute. "I'll make it better next week. I have some ideas."
"Good." Mary stood up and walked to the stairs. "We'd better not be fighting a changeling or a dragon next week." she said with a laugh.
The outside air was cool and crisp; the twilight had faded already and the streetlights were on. Chris and Tyler had left already; their mom always picked them up. Sara lived at the end of the street. Mary looked down the street toward Sara's house and near the other end of the street she saw Sara, almost home. Mary shivered as she watched as a shadow approached Sara. Mary then watched as Sara discorporated into a chaotic mass of lightning arcs and flame over a roiling mass of rocks and water. In another moment she had absorbed the shadow and it was gone. Those shadows gave her the creeps and she was glad another one was gone. Mary's parents had told her many times how they were lucky to have the Smiths living on their street. "Good girl." Mary whispered as she watched Sara pick up her book bag and put on her human disguise for the rest of her walk home. Mary walked back into the house.
***************************
Sara reached the end of the street, hopped up the porch stair to her front door and walked inside, locking the door behind her. Inside, her mother and father were lounging on the sofa watching a reality TV show together. Her dad waved a friendly tendril of water at her and turned his attention back to the show. Sara's mom floated up and across the room, her pattern of fire and stone indicated concern.
"Is everything okay honey?"
"Well" Sara started slowly. "In tonight's game we finally met a primordial, but the party just killed it. The dungeon master thought it looked scary." Sara dismissed her human disguise, released a small puff of smoke and slouched a bit. "Are they ever going to accept us for who we are?"
Sara's mom wrapped her in a hug. "Your friends do like you dear. It doesn't matter that you don't look like they do."
"Yeah, I guess you're right mom. Thanks." She brightened up a bit, her waves of water crashing in a happy whirlpool. She started up the stairs to her room but halfway up she turned around and said "Oh yeah, I got another shadow on the way home." Her mom, who had already returned to the sofa, crashed a tiny avalanche of stone in approval and then returned to watching the show.
submitted by Pneuma001 to dndstories [link] [comments]
"Giant?" Sara asked?
"Yeah, it's like fifty feet tall. Looking upon its face makes your gut wrench as its face is a pool of ever-churning distorted energies. Make a save versus fear."
The players snatched up dice bags. Twenty-sided dice were rolled all around the table, but Mary, sitting to the right of Sara, noticed that Sara hesitated.
"What did you call these things again?" Sara asked. "Primordials? I didn't really imagine that they'd be so ugly or terrifying... or big."
"Oh, fine," the dungeon master responded. "Ambriel the rogue can have advantage on this check. What is your roll?"
Sara picked up an extra dice, tossed them into the bowl on the table and squinted at them in the dim light of the basement. "I got an eight." she said, frowning.
"Sorry, Ambriel and anyone else that got below a ten is afraid of the figure and will be at a disadvantage for initiative. The figure lets out a scream that sounds like an avalanche in a hurricane. Roll initiative!"
"Nineteen!" the boy across the table said. "Fifteen!" said another after rolling some dice. "I have a plus two, and I only got a twelve." said Mary.
"What about you Sara?" the dungeon master asked.
"Um, I don't want to fight it. Can I try talking to it?"
"I guess so," said the dungeon master, frowning. "What will you try saying to it?
"Well first," Sara started, "Is it at its house?"
The dungeon master and the boys across the table erupted into laughter. The dungeon master managed to stop laughing and reply. "These things don't have houses. They just live outside in the chaos."
"Oh." Sara looked disappointed. "I thought they would have houses." and then quieter. "Maybe a family."
The dungeon master laughed again. "What are you going to say to it?"
"I guess I'll say: 'Greetings friend! Do you know which way it is to the Dark Wizard Malik's tower?'"
The dungeon master laughed yet again. "It doesn't seem to understand what you're saying. It screams again and then attacks. Do you have your initiative number yet?"
Mary had been glaring at the dungeon master. He finally noticed her expression and slouched down, a sheepish look crossing his face as if he knew he was going to be in trouble.
Sara frowned, rolled her dice, and then stated "Six."
The party proceeded to fight with the primordial and Sara participated but wasn't really enjoying the situation. After the beast fell the party raced to loot its corpse.
"What did we find?" the boy across the table asked eagerly.
"Nothing, of course!" the dungeon master announced with some glee in his voice. "The primordial's body has evaporated and merged with the endless chaos around you."
"Well that's at least one thing you got right." Sara said.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked.
"Oh, forget it." Sara responded.
The end of the combat signaled the end of the evening since it was already past eight. The friends scooped dice and character sheets back into their bags, cleaned up the snacks, and said their goodbyes for the evening. Sara walked up the stairs and into the front yard with the other two boys. Chris's mom was there to pick up him and Tyler. She waved at them as they drove away and then started toward her own house just down the street.
The walk was only five minutes, if she took her time, and she had walked this street a hundred times before. She was enjoying the breeze and the crisp night air and didn't notice when the footsteps behind her started. When she noticed them she'd picked up her pace but they grew uncomfortably close. Sara spun around and was faced with a figure in the shadows behind her. It was only a few feet away but she couldn't make out a face.
"What do you want?" She asked the shadow. It did not respond. It did, however, step forward into the glow of the nearby street light. Still, its form appeared like a pitch black hole in the world; a torn place in space the shape and size of a man. The shadow reached toward Sara and she knew that this was an undead being. It had been hoping it could claim the life force of a human this evening; to pull her into the shadow realm and keep her there till she had faded away and become another shadow. Unfortunately for the shadow, she was not a victim that could be claimed so easily.
Sara dropped her book back and grabbed the shadow's arm, glancing down the street to make sure it was clear. Then she released her human disguise and pulled the shadow closer. She stared into the colorless void where its eyes should have been and the shadow stared back into the ever-changing distortion that her face had become. Lightning arced across Sara's skin that now appeared to be made of a roiling mass of stone and waves of pure water.
Sara's outline blurred and her humanoid form faded almost completely, leaving a cloud of elements ever fighting for position, yet she didn't let go of the shadow. The shadow was in a panic now, struggling and desperately trying to free itself from her grasp, to no avail. Sara pulled the shadow inside her cloud and it was ripped and torn by every element until it was gone in just a moment.
Sara concentrated for a moment and reached a human hand out of her cloud of chaos, and picked up her book bag. She formed an arm and shoulder to put the bag on, then a head and some feet and finally squeezed the last bit of her cloud into the shape of a green jacket. "Was she wearing a blue jacket before or a green one?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't really matter." she answered, and changed the jacket to blue.
***************************
Sara, Chris and Tyler walked up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Mary and the dungeon master still sitting at the table. The dungeon master was shuffling some papers, his mind racing with ideas for the next session. Mary stared at him, arms crossed and after a moment she finally spoke. "That was mean, Brian."
Brian looked up from his papers. "What?" he asked defensively with a worried look on his face.
"The primordial we met tonight in the game. That wasn't cool." She mocked an imitation of Brian: "It just lives outside in the chaos. Its sooooo ugly and scary." She crossed her arms again and stared daggers at him. Brian was silent and just looked down at his lap.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought we were supposed to act like we didn't know..."
"You know she's not going to keep playing with us if you keep being an asshole, right?"
Brian frowned and was quiet.
"Don't you like her playing with us?" Mary continued. "She's a way better rogue than Johnathan was. If she leaves and Johnathan finds out we have room at the table then we might have to let him join the party again. Is that what you want?"
Brian shuddered. "No. I do like her playing with us. She is a pretty awesome rogue." They sat in silence for a minute. "I'll make it better next week. I have some ideas."
"Good." Mary stood up and walked to the stairs. "We'd better not be fighting a changeling or a dragon next week." she said with a laugh.
The outside air was cool and crisp; the twilight had faded already and the streetlights were on. Chris and Tyler had left already; their mom always picked them up. Sara lived at the end of the street. Mary looked down the street toward Sara's house and near the other end of the street she saw Sara, almost home. Mary shivered as she watched as a shadow approached Sara. Mary then watched as Sara discorporated into a chaotic mass of lightning arcs and flame over a roiling mass of rocks and water. In another moment she had absorbed the shadow and it was gone. Those shadows gave her the creeps and she was glad another one was gone. Mary's parents had told her many times how they were lucky to have the Smiths living on their street. "Good girl." Mary whispered as she watched Sara pick up her book bag and put on her human disguise for the rest of her walk home. Mary walked back into the house.
***************************
Sara reached the end of the street, hopped up the porch stair to her front door and walked inside, locking the door behind her. Inside, her mother and father were lounging on the sofa watching a reality TV show together. Her dad waved a friendly tendril of water at her and turned his attention back to the show. Sara's mom floated up and across the room, her pattern of fire and stone indicated concern.
"Is everything okay honey?"
"Well" Sara started slowly. "In tonight's game we finally met a primordial, but the party just killed it. The dungeon master thought it looked scary." Sara dismissed her human disguise, released a small puff of smoke and slouched a bit. "Are they ever going to accept us for who we are?"
Sara's mom wrapped her in a hug. "Your friends do like you dear. It doesn't matter that you don't look like they do."
"Yeah, I guess you're right mom. Thanks." She brightened up a bit, her waves of water crashing in a happy whirlpool. She started up the stairs to her room but halfway up she turned around and said "Oh yeah, I got another shadow on the way home." Her mom, who had already returned to the sofa, crashed a tiny avalanche of stone in approval and then returned to watching the show.
2024.05.19 09:56 Relevant_Freedom_340 [23F] I tend to become overly possessive and/or controlling etc. with my favorite friends.
Oh hello again my friend. Good to see you arrived back safely. Sit on the floor here. I’ll play with your hair. Okay I’m done, so tie your hair back up. Don’t move yet, I’ll hug you first. Huh? Where are you walking off to now? Sit back down. Don’t move. Remember well that if you want a normal friend, you’re free to go find one. But if you choose to be my friend, just know that you’re my property.
Ah…your skin is so dry :/. Does it hurt? Okay sit over to that counter. I’m going to put skin care products on your face.. Wow! You’re glowing now! Looks great.
Today you should wear the dark blue shirt and the light washed blue jeans…I just think it looks better. It’s not that deep, mate, just do as I said. Go change.
Eh, you’re eating those chips again? I’ll just snatch that away from you. Mercy…you’ve been eating these every day for the past 4 days. And baam, okay, I threw it in the bin. Good grief, you know you have to maintain your figure…and more importantly your health. It’s almost like you’re just asking me to control you completely.
Wow, you look so good in this lighting, I’m just going to wrap my arm around your shoulder like this and borrow some good looks for myself by association. Oh wait, I can just wrap my arm around your waist like this so we can walk in unison like when we were kids. Weird feeling, right? But this sense of unity makes my heart feel warm.
Oh, so you prefer to hold hands? Mmm, that is nice at times, but I think I’ll just hold you by the wrist instead this time. I like the feeling of this better than holding hands. Sometimes my hands get sweaty the other way…plus if I hold your wrist, then you have to follow me, right? Then you’ll suddenly remember that you belong to me. You still want to be friends, right? Right, so then you’re still my property.
Let’s wake up early and go to the gym. Oh come on….. you’ll be glad that you did I’m sure! These bodies won’t maintain themselves, Y’know? You have to join the fitness journey. Don’t be shy. It’s my choice what I want to do with my property, right? RIGHTTT. To the gym we go!!!
Are you interested in Greek architecture? No?….eh that’s okay, I’ll teach you something about it anyways.
You listen to me well. I think you’ll get an upgrade in life soon. Awesome
Ooo, let’s go meet some new people! socialize, travel…just live out a dream. Ah…you’re not nervous, right? Ah…it’s okay, you can stay by me. But just remember once again… that any friend who can get this close to me….is my property.
submitted by Relevant_Freedom_340 to MeetNewPeopleHere [link] [comments]
Ah…your skin is so dry :/. Does it hurt? Okay sit over to that counter. I’m going to put skin care products on your face.. Wow! You’re glowing now! Looks great.
Today you should wear the dark blue shirt and the light washed blue jeans…I just think it looks better. It’s not that deep, mate, just do as I said. Go change.
Eh, you’re eating those chips again? I’ll just snatch that away from you. Mercy…you’ve been eating these every day for the past 4 days. And baam, okay, I threw it in the bin. Good grief, you know you have to maintain your figure…and more importantly your health. It’s almost like you’re just asking me to control you completely.
Wow, you look so good in this lighting, I’m just going to wrap my arm around your shoulder like this and borrow some good looks for myself by association. Oh wait, I can just wrap my arm around your waist like this so we can walk in unison like when we were kids. Weird feeling, right? But this sense of unity makes my heart feel warm.
Oh, so you prefer to hold hands? Mmm, that is nice at times, but I think I’ll just hold you by the wrist instead this time. I like the feeling of this better than holding hands. Sometimes my hands get sweaty the other way…plus if I hold your wrist, then you have to follow me, right? Then you’ll suddenly remember that you belong to me. You still want to be friends, right? Right, so then you’re still my property.
Let’s wake up early and go to the gym. Oh come on….. you’ll be glad that you did I’m sure! These bodies won’t maintain themselves, Y’know? You have to join the fitness journey. Don’t be shy. It’s my choice what I want to do with my property, right? RIGHTTT. To the gym we go!!!
Are you interested in Greek architecture? No?….eh that’s okay, I’ll teach you something about it anyways.
You listen to me well. I think you’ll get an upgrade in life soon. Awesome
Ooo, let’s go meet some new people! socialize, travel…just live out a dream. Ah…you’re not nervous, right? Ah…it’s okay, you can stay by me. But just remember once again… that any friend who can get this close to me….is my property.
2024.05.19 09:52 livnwynex please help, don’t know what to do anymore and it’s ruining me
ok so, bit of a background, I’ve had eczema only when I was a child but around the age of 3/4 it disappeared completely, it was mostly for a dust mite allergy and never had it again, until just a random neck flare up in march 2021(I was 16) (it disappeared without doing anything after some days) then, randomly, in November 2022 I started having flare ups on my neck and around my eyes but just as before they disappeared in some days maybe a week without applying anything, another flare up came back around February 2023, I saw a dermatologist, he prescribed me a mild topical steroid (advantan 0,1%) and disappeared once again, I sometimes just had random patches of dry skin on my neck or face but no sign of eczema, summer went great, but then around octobeNovember 2023 came back also in places I’ve never had it before and since then it has never left me, I did everything, removed fragrances, bought all the specific products for eczema prone skin, did some rounds of topical steroids, I had maybe some days or weeks where my skin was so great like I never had eczema but sadly it always came back. I took the prick tests and everything came back negative, also blood test still for allergies and were all negative, I have the patch test scheduled on last week of may, really hope to find out I’m allergic to something so this shit will go away. my eczema usually disappeared in spring so I was so happy about april and may coming but sadly this year my skin said Hell naw. tried lots of moisturizers, many didn’t work and some did help, but only with dryness. It’s really exhausting since I have it mostly on my face and neck, I do have some random patches on my arms , bigger ones on my inner elbows, but everywhere else my skin looks great, but my face, neck and shoulders look so terrible, it’s spreading on my face, steroids seem to not work anymore, it’s hard having a social life and keeping my relationship with my boyfriend healthy while I feel ugly, dirty and powerless. just so u guys know I do smoke and I noticed my eczema starting to worsen when I mostly switched to heated tobacco cigs (iqos), and also when i started taking the combined pill as birth control, also I really had a stressful life and fought against mental health for a long long time, finally doing better and then boom the universe wanted me to suffer some more (funny how when I had so many problems with my mental health my skin was literally perfect) looks like I’m finally fine and my body is expelling all the stress?? literally going crazy trying to understand my triggers or what’s causing it. also alcohol makes it so itchy I’ll sadly have to skip my glass of wine lmao If anyone wants to see the pics I’ll send them! I’m really looking for some help it’s getting unbearable and I do kind of sense the depression kicking back in. If anyone has read all of this thank you, and for everyone going through this, I hope you’ll finally heal<3
submitted by livnwynex to eczema [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 09:51 Few_Pea_3909 Where was I?
One more thing, Mika and Nash’s love story. I’m not sure if Alexa and Nash were ever a couple or if it was just a love team.
I don’t know much, but looking at Nash and Mika’s love story, it’s inevitable to think that sometimes we believe we’ve moved on, that we no longer have feelings for a person.
So, Nash entered someone else’s life, thinking he was over Mika.
When Nash realized that after those 13+ years without Mika in his life, and then suddenly having the chance to be with her again, he understood how much he loves Mika and that love never really went away. It was just buried under the assumption that it was gone, as he tried to move on with his life (though he may have hurt others in the process).
“Where was I?” is the most famous question until now. But I believe that in their line of work, where love teams are really popular, this is one of the reasons why Nash thought Mika was no longer in his heart.
It's really proof that if a man truly loves you, no matter what, even if one or two people get hurt around him, it doesn’t really matter to him. Even if they are condemned by many, as long as they are with the woman they love.
And look where they are now—in the church, married.
So, to the question “where was I?” The answer is, you were there, but you didn’t successfully take the throne.
Which is really painful, imagine spending years with the guy you thought loves you left you for someone who he truly loves.
It’s heartbreaking to realize that despite all the time and effort you invested, their heart was always somewhere else. This kind of situation can make you question everything, from your worth to the authenticity of the relationship you had.
So where was I?
A brutal reality.
submitted by Few_Pea_3909 to artistphilippine [link] [comments]
I don’t know much, but looking at Nash and Mika’s love story, it’s inevitable to think that sometimes we believe we’ve moved on, that we no longer have feelings for a person.
So, Nash entered someone else’s life, thinking he was over Mika.
When Nash realized that after those 13+ years without Mika in his life, and then suddenly having the chance to be with her again, he understood how much he loves Mika and that love never really went away. It was just buried under the assumption that it was gone, as he tried to move on with his life (though he may have hurt others in the process).
“Where was I?” is the most famous question until now. But I believe that in their line of work, where love teams are really popular, this is one of the reasons why Nash thought Mika was no longer in his heart.
It's really proof that if a man truly loves you, no matter what, even if one or two people get hurt around him, it doesn’t really matter to him. Even if they are condemned by many, as long as they are with the woman they love.
And look where they are now—in the church, married.
So, to the question “where was I?” The answer is, you were there, but you didn’t successfully take the throne.
Which is really painful, imagine spending years with the guy you thought loves you left you for someone who he truly loves.
It’s heartbreaking to realize that despite all the time and effort you invested, their heart was always somewhere else. This kind of situation can make you question everything, from your worth to the authenticity of the relationship you had.
So where was I?
A brutal reality.
2024.05.19 09:48 diligentfalconry71 Lojan Travel Buddy - first thoughts
I decided to go for it, and ordered myself a Travel Buddy this week. u/katie-kaboom already posted a thorough review of the regular Buddy here, but here’s the mobile version ! I’ve taken some pictures with my Lendrum DT for comparison.
Why get another folding wheel when I already have one? Well, as much as I love it, the Lendrum is bigger than is easy to sling on my back and head out on my bike. The Travel Buddy is smaller (although about the same weight), and comes with its own backpack; I never got a “real” bag for the Lendrum and have been using a comically large Timbuk2 messenger bag for years, but that is just not really comfortable.
I was leery of Irish tension since I got soured on it quite some time ago — ironically enough on a Louët which I decided was my sworn enemy — but I thought the description of Dutch tension sounded like maybe they’d successfully dialed back the difficulty, and anyways I’m a much better spinner now than I was back then, so it’d probably be fine. And worst case scenario, if I still hated Irish tension, I could just sell the wheel on. So, I decided to give it a shot while the intro price was still so low.
Prep and assembly: I bought the Lojan branded beeswax finish and put three coats on the pieces, waiting about 12h between coats, before assembly. Once that was done, I found it straightforward and easy to put together. I’m currently a little slow-paced because I caught myself a fine case of covid a few days ago, but even so, it took me a little over an hour (less than two episodes of Stargate SG-1 anyways!), and roughly half for the wheel and half for the bobbins.
Speaking of which, the bobbins are huge! 200g capacity apparently. All the sources I find say the Lendrum standard bobbins have a 6oz capacity, but that sounds high to me; I was guessing 4. If 6oz is right, the capacity is almost the same between the two.
Once I had it assembled, I started out with some combed Icelandic top from my breed sampler stash — nothing too persnickety. And predictably, the take-up was way stronger than I expected. I had to hang on hard to keep it from yanking out of my hand, even with the brake basically off, and I did think, “oh no, I have just made a very expensive mistake.” But I remembered to try cross-lacing and see if I could get it dialed in better.
Attempt 1: The flyer has two sliding plastic guides on each arm, so first I crossed over the arms from side to side. That helped, but because the guides go down in the direction of the bobbin rather than out like hooks usually do, it dragged the singles across the surface of the bobbin, which caused friction I didn’t like.
Attempt 2: next I popped the plastic guides off the flyer, and switched two of them outwards rather than inwards. That didn’t actually increase the distance enough to prevent dragging the singles across the surface of the spooled singles when I cross-laced, so no go.
Attempt 3 - almost there! I thought about what the physics of cross-lacing is, and realized that all I really need is more weight-bearing support to increase the friction and cause drag. So I tried feeding the singles straight through the two guides on one side; with one reversed, it created a slightly zigzaggy path which still accomplished the same increased-resistance effect, and made a big difference in reducing the take-up without dragging singles across singles.
But, it still wasn’t enough for me, because I strongly prefer a chilled out, lazy long draw, and I’m used to getting pretty fine singles with it on my Lendrum, so having to settle for short forward draw was just going to annoy me in the long run. So…
Attempt 3: loop the singles around the reversed guide. And this is a winner! It reduced the take-up so much I had to start easing the brake back up. I basically pulled a loop over the top of the flyer, over the reversed (sticking out instead of in) guide, pulled it back under and hooked it on the underside of that guide, in kind of an M shape. This let me push the ratio up and easily get to 40 wpi with zero stress drafting.
With the M-lacing, I did try out a little long draw, and this test spin is with a merino-silk combed top, but I still kept my left hand in action to control twist and just generally be careful with it since I’m not 100% confident yet. I’ve barely spent more than an hour spinning so far, the Icelandic singles, plus chain-plying two other breed sampler singles, and finally the merino-silk singles test run. But overall I’m pretty satisfied that I conquered my fear of Irish tension, and have a wheel I can spin my way on — rather than a wheel that’s going to make me spin its way. And I’m looking forward to biking to an upcoming spin-in with my aptly named little Buddy!
submitted by diligentfalconry71 to Handspinning [link] [comments]
Why get another folding wheel when I already have one? Well, as much as I love it, the Lendrum is bigger than is easy to sling on my back and head out on my bike. The Travel Buddy is smaller (although about the same weight), and comes with its own backpack; I never got a “real” bag for the Lendrum and have been using a comically large Timbuk2 messenger bag for years, but that is just not really comfortable.
I was leery of Irish tension since I got soured on it quite some time ago — ironically enough on a Louët which I decided was my sworn enemy — but I thought the description of Dutch tension sounded like maybe they’d successfully dialed back the difficulty, and anyways I’m a much better spinner now than I was back then, so it’d probably be fine. And worst case scenario, if I still hated Irish tension, I could just sell the wheel on. So, I decided to give it a shot while the intro price was still so low.
Prep and assembly: I bought the Lojan branded beeswax finish and put three coats on the pieces, waiting about 12h between coats, before assembly. Once that was done, I found it straightforward and easy to put together. I’m currently a little slow-paced because I caught myself a fine case of covid a few days ago, but even so, it took me a little over an hour (less than two episodes of Stargate SG-1 anyways!), and roughly half for the wheel and half for the bobbins.
Speaking of which, the bobbins are huge! 200g capacity apparently. All the sources I find say the Lendrum standard bobbins have a 6oz capacity, but that sounds high to me; I was guessing 4. If 6oz is right, the capacity is almost the same between the two.
Once I had it assembled, I started out with some combed Icelandic top from my breed sampler stash — nothing too persnickety. And predictably, the take-up was way stronger than I expected. I had to hang on hard to keep it from yanking out of my hand, even with the brake basically off, and I did think, “oh no, I have just made a very expensive mistake.” But I remembered to try cross-lacing and see if I could get it dialed in better.
Attempt 1: The flyer has two sliding plastic guides on each arm, so first I crossed over the arms from side to side. That helped, but because the guides go down in the direction of the bobbin rather than out like hooks usually do, it dragged the singles across the surface of the bobbin, which caused friction I didn’t like.
Attempt 2: next I popped the plastic guides off the flyer, and switched two of them outwards rather than inwards. That didn’t actually increase the distance enough to prevent dragging the singles across the surface of the spooled singles when I cross-laced, so no go.
Attempt 3 - almost there! I thought about what the physics of cross-lacing is, and realized that all I really need is more weight-bearing support to increase the friction and cause drag. So I tried feeding the singles straight through the two guides on one side; with one reversed, it created a slightly zigzaggy path which still accomplished the same increased-resistance effect, and made a big difference in reducing the take-up without dragging singles across singles.
But, it still wasn’t enough for me, because I strongly prefer a chilled out, lazy long draw, and I’m used to getting pretty fine singles with it on my Lendrum, so having to settle for short forward draw was just going to annoy me in the long run. So…
Attempt 3: loop the singles around the reversed guide. And this is a winner! It reduced the take-up so much I had to start easing the brake back up. I basically pulled a loop over the top of the flyer, over the reversed (sticking out instead of in) guide, pulled it back under and hooked it on the underside of that guide, in kind of an M shape. This let me push the ratio up and easily get to 40 wpi with zero stress drafting.
With the M-lacing, I did try out a little long draw, and this test spin is with a merino-silk combed top, but I still kept my left hand in action to control twist and just generally be careful with it since I’m not 100% confident yet. I’ve barely spent more than an hour spinning so far, the Icelandic singles, plus chain-plying two other breed sampler singles, and finally the merino-silk singles test run. But overall I’m pretty satisfied that I conquered my fear of Irish tension, and have a wheel I can spin my way on — rather than a wheel that’s going to make me spin its way. And I’m looking forward to biking to an upcoming spin-in with my aptly named little Buddy!
2024.05.19 09:47 Relevant_Freedom_340 I (F23) tend to become overly possessive and/or controlling etc. with my favorite friends.
Oh hello again my friend. Good to see you arrived back safely. Sit on the floor here. I’ll play with your hair. Okay I’m done, so tie your hair back up. Don’t move yet, I’ll hug you first. Huh? Where are you walking off to now? Sit back down. Don’t move. Remember well that if you want a normal friend, you’re free to go find one. But if you choose to be my friend, just know that you’re my property.
Ah…your skin is so dry :/. Does it hurt? Okay sit over to that counter. I’m going to put skin care products on your face.. Wow! You’re glowing now! Looks great.
Today you should wear the dark blue shirt and the light washed blue jeans…I just think it looks better. It’s not that deep, mate, just do as I said. Go change.
Eh, you’re eating those chips again? I’ll just snatch that away from you. Mercy…you’ve been eating these every day for the past 4 days. And baam, okay, I threw it in the bin. Good grief, you know you have to maintain your figure…and more importantly your health. It’s almost like you’re just asking me to control you completely.
Wow, you look so good in this lighting, I’m just going to wrap my arm around your shoulder like this and borrow some good looks for myself by association. Oh wait, I can just wrap my arm around your waist like this so we can walk in unison like when we were kids. Weird feeling, right? But this sense of unity makes my heart feel warm.
Oh, so you prefer to hold hands? Mmm, that is nice at times, but I think I’ll just hold you by the wrist instead this time. I like the feeling of this better than holding hands. Sometimes my hands get sweaty the other way…plus if I hold your wrist, then you have to follow me, right? Then you’ll suddenly remember that you belong to me. You still want to be friends, right? Right, so then you’re still my property.
Let’s wake up early and go to the gym. Oh come on….. you’ll be glad that you did I’m sure! These bodies won’t maintain themselves, Y’know? You have to join the fitness journey. Don’t be shy. It’s my choice what I want to do with my property, right? RIGHTTT. To the gym we go!!!
Are you interested in Greek architecture? No?….eh that’s okay, I’ll teach you something about it anyways.
You listen to me well. I think you’ll get an upgrade in life soon. Awesome
Ooo, let’s go meet some new people! socialize, travel…just live out a dream. Ah…you’re not nervous, right? Ah…it’s okay, you can stay by me. But just remember once again… that any friend who can get this close to me….is my property.
submitted by Relevant_Freedom_340 to friendship [link] [comments]
Ah…your skin is so dry :/. Does it hurt? Okay sit over to that counter. I’m going to put skin care products on your face.. Wow! You’re glowing now! Looks great.
Today you should wear the dark blue shirt and the light washed blue jeans…I just think it looks better. It’s not that deep, mate, just do as I said. Go change.
Eh, you’re eating those chips again? I’ll just snatch that away from you. Mercy…you’ve been eating these every day for the past 4 days. And baam, okay, I threw it in the bin. Good grief, you know you have to maintain your figure…and more importantly your health. It’s almost like you’re just asking me to control you completely.
Wow, you look so good in this lighting, I’m just going to wrap my arm around your shoulder like this and borrow some good looks for myself by association. Oh wait, I can just wrap my arm around your waist like this so we can walk in unison like when we were kids. Weird feeling, right? But this sense of unity makes my heart feel warm.
Oh, so you prefer to hold hands? Mmm, that is nice at times, but I think I’ll just hold you by the wrist instead this time. I like the feeling of this better than holding hands. Sometimes my hands get sweaty the other way…plus if I hold your wrist, then you have to follow me, right? Then you’ll suddenly remember that you belong to me. You still want to be friends, right? Right, so then you’re still my property.
Let’s wake up early and go to the gym. Oh come on….. you’ll be glad that you did I’m sure! These bodies won’t maintain themselves, Y’know? You have to join the fitness journey. Don’t be shy. It’s my choice what I want to do with my property, right? RIGHTTT. To the gym we go!!!
Are you interested in Greek architecture? No?….eh that’s okay, I’ll teach you something about it anyways.
You listen to me well. I think you’ll get an upgrade in life soon. Awesome
Ooo, let’s go meet some new people! socialize, travel…just live out a dream. Ah…you’re not nervous, right? Ah…it’s okay, you can stay by me. But just remember once again… that any friend who can get this close to me….is my property.
2024.05.19 09:44 Enough-Metal-3293 H: OE armor pieces W: apparel, leaders, offers.
 | submitted by Enough-Metal-3293 to Market76 [link] [comments] |
2024.05.19 09:40 d_pock_chope_bruh Progenitors
It started with a whisper, a shiver of information that slithered through the corridors of the CIA like a cold, uninvited guest. I was a senior analyst, tasked with sifting through the static and noise of global intelligence. But this—this was different. It was 2009 when the first document crossed my desk, a classified report from the Global Access Program. The title was innocuous: “Unidentified Aerial Phenomena – Preliminary Analysis.” But the content… it was nothing short of extraordinary.
The initial report detailed sightings of craft with capabilities far beyond our own. These weren’t the erratic, drunken movements of weather balloons or the technological marvels of hostile nations. These were intelligent, deliberate maneuvers, the kind that hinted at minds far advanced from ours. It was chilling, but it was only the beginning.
As weeks turned into months, the trickle of information became a flood. Documents stamped with the highest levels of classification described encounters, recoveries, and, most disturbingly, autopsies. The recovered bodies weren’t the little green men of popular culture. They were eerily humanoid, yet undeniably otherworldly. Their skin had a silicon-like quality, translucent and tough, and their eyes—large, dark, and haunting—seemed to pierce through the veil of secrecy we so desperately tried to maintain.
I was part of a small, compartmentalized team, tasked with understanding the implications of these findings. The government’s approach was twofold: reverse-engineer the technology and determine the intentions of these visitors. But as our understanding grew, so did our fear.
One evening, after hours of staring at grainy footage of a UFO darting through the sky over a desolate military base, I received a call. The voice on the other end was panicked, speaking in hushed, frantic tones. It was one of our field operatives, stationed at a classified recovery site. They had just intercepted a transmission. It wasn’t human.
The transmission was a distress signal, but not one of desperation. It was a call to arms. These beings, it seemed, were not just explorers. They were scouts, and their mission was not benign. The transmission hinted at a hive mind, a collective consciousness that controlled these entities. They were here to assess, to probe, and to prepare. For what, we could only speculate.
Days later, another recovery operation took place. A craft was shot down over the Nevada desert, and the bodies retrieved told a horrifying story. They were connected, biologically and technologically, to this hive mind. When one entity was captured, the others knew. When one died, they all felt it. The implications were staggering. We were not just dealing with isolated visitors; we were confronting a unified front.
The more we learned, the more paranoid our superiors became. Orders came down to contain the information at all costs. Whistleblowers were silenced, dissenters disappeared. But the truth was too big to contain. The technology we recovered was decades, if not centuries, ahead of our own. Anti-gravity propulsion, energy sources that defied our understanding of physics, biological materials that healed and adapted.
And then came the darkest revelation. The autopsies revealed something even more unsettling. These beings had genetic material strikingly similar to our own. They weren’t just visitors; they were progenitors. We were their experiment, their creation. The implications shattered every paradigm we held dear. Religion, science, history—all of it was called into question.
As I sit here, penning this confession, I know my time is limited. They will come for me, as they have come for others. But the truth must be known. We are not alone, and we never have been. Our governments have hidden this from us, not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth, fear of the inevitable.
To you who reads this, understand this: the veil has been lifted. The shadows hold secrets that are darker and more profound than we can imagine. And the truth, once revealed, will change everything.
This is my testament. Believe it, or don’t. But know this: the world is not as it seems. The universe is vast, and we are not the apex of creation. We are but a fragment in a grand, terrifying design.
The truth is out there, waiting to be uncovered. And when it is, the world will never be the same.
The progenitors, as we came to call them, had motives far more complex and far-reaching than simple exploration or conquest. The truth unraveled slowly, like an intricate tapestry revealing a grand design. It began with fragments of intercepted communications and culminated in a terrifying, awe-inspiring understanding of our place in the universe.
The progenitors did not come from a distant star merely to observe. They were architects of life, and Earth was their grand experiment. Our planet, teeming with diverse life forms, was a controlled environment, a living laboratory designed for a singular purpose: evolution.
From the ancient texts to modern scientific discoveries, we’ve always sought answers to our origins. The progenitors provided those answers, but they came at a cost. We discovered that they seeded countless worlds, each designed to test different variables of life. Earth was unique due to its biodiversity and its potential for intelligent life.
The genetic similarities between us and the progenitors weren’t just a coincidence. They were deliberate. By seeding their own DNA into the primordial soup of Earth, they ensured a certain path of evolution. Our intelligence, our creativity, our very civilization were results of their intricate design. We were, quite literally, their children, bred and cultivated to reach a specific level of advancement.
But why? The reasons were as complex as they were chilling. The progenitors were not just scientists; they were facing an existential crisis. Their civilization, once spanning galaxies, was in decline. They needed a solution to prevent their extinction, and their answer was found in genetic diversity and adaptability.
Earth and its human inhabitants were part of a grander scheme: to evolve a species capable of assimilating their consciousness, their essence, into a new form. Our rapid technological advancement was not just a natural progression but was subtly influenced to accelerate our development. They needed us to reach a level where we could understand and perhaps even merge with their advanced consciousness.
We learned through decrypted communications and rare encounters that the progenitors were a hive mind, an interconnected collective consciousness. Over millennia, they had lost individuality, becoming a singular entity spread across countless biological hosts. This form of existence had its limits, and they sought to evolve beyond those constraints. They aimed to create a hybrid species—humans with the potential to host their collective consciousness.
This wasn’t just about survival; it was about transcendence. By merging with us, they hoped to achieve a new state of being, combining their ancient wisdom and collective power with our adaptability and creativity. We were to be the vessels for their next evolution.
However, this plan wasn’t without resistance. Among the progenitors, there were factions. Some believed in the purity of their collective consciousness, resisting the idea of merging with what they considered lesser beings. These internal conflicts spilled over into their actions on Earth, leading to sporadic yet significant interventions in our history.
As our understanding grew, so did the dread. The government’s attempts to contain this knowledge were born out of sheer terror. How could they explain to the world that we were bred for a purpose beyond our control? That our creators intended to use us to save themselves?
The intercepted transmissions became increasingly desperate. The progenitors’ time was running out, and their interest in Earth intensified. Reports of sightings and encounters surged. The military engaged in numerous clandestine operations to intercept and study these beings, leading to an underground war of sorts.
And then came the ultimate revelation: the progenitors were already among us. Their advanced technology allowed them to blend in, to influence, and to manipulate. The rise and fall of civilizations, the sudden leaps in technology, the inexplicable events in history—they were all part of the progenitors’ intricate plan to guide us towards the inevitable merging.
The truth, when finally pieced together, was more than earth-shattering. It was paradigm-shattering. We were not alone, nor were we masters of our fate. We were pawns in a cosmic game, engineered for a destiny we had yet to fully comprehend. The progenitors, our creators, were not gods but beings driven by survival and evolution, using us as their means to an end.
As I document this, I know the implications are beyond comprehension. The world must know, not to incite fear, but to understand. We stand at the brink of an unprecedented revelation, one that will redefine our existence and our place in the universe.
This is the truth, unfiltered and unvarnished. We are the progeny of ancient architects, part of a grand design stretching across the stars. Our future is intertwined with theirs, and the choices we make now will determine the fate of both our species.
submitted by d_pock_chope_bruh to scarystories [link] [comments]
The initial report detailed sightings of craft with capabilities far beyond our own. These weren’t the erratic, drunken movements of weather balloons or the technological marvels of hostile nations. These were intelligent, deliberate maneuvers, the kind that hinted at minds far advanced from ours. It was chilling, but it was only the beginning.
As weeks turned into months, the trickle of information became a flood. Documents stamped with the highest levels of classification described encounters, recoveries, and, most disturbingly, autopsies. The recovered bodies weren’t the little green men of popular culture. They were eerily humanoid, yet undeniably otherworldly. Their skin had a silicon-like quality, translucent and tough, and their eyes—large, dark, and haunting—seemed to pierce through the veil of secrecy we so desperately tried to maintain.
I was part of a small, compartmentalized team, tasked with understanding the implications of these findings. The government’s approach was twofold: reverse-engineer the technology and determine the intentions of these visitors. But as our understanding grew, so did our fear.
One evening, after hours of staring at grainy footage of a UFO darting through the sky over a desolate military base, I received a call. The voice on the other end was panicked, speaking in hushed, frantic tones. It was one of our field operatives, stationed at a classified recovery site. They had just intercepted a transmission. It wasn’t human.
The transmission was a distress signal, but not one of desperation. It was a call to arms. These beings, it seemed, were not just explorers. They were scouts, and their mission was not benign. The transmission hinted at a hive mind, a collective consciousness that controlled these entities. They were here to assess, to probe, and to prepare. For what, we could only speculate.
Days later, another recovery operation took place. A craft was shot down over the Nevada desert, and the bodies retrieved told a horrifying story. They were connected, biologically and technologically, to this hive mind. When one entity was captured, the others knew. When one died, they all felt it. The implications were staggering. We were not just dealing with isolated visitors; we were confronting a unified front.
The more we learned, the more paranoid our superiors became. Orders came down to contain the information at all costs. Whistleblowers were silenced, dissenters disappeared. But the truth was too big to contain. The technology we recovered was decades, if not centuries, ahead of our own. Anti-gravity propulsion, energy sources that defied our understanding of physics, biological materials that healed and adapted.
And then came the darkest revelation. The autopsies revealed something even more unsettling. These beings had genetic material strikingly similar to our own. They weren’t just visitors; they were progenitors. We were their experiment, their creation. The implications shattered every paradigm we held dear. Religion, science, history—all of it was called into question.
As I sit here, penning this confession, I know my time is limited. They will come for me, as they have come for others. But the truth must be known. We are not alone, and we never have been. Our governments have hidden this from us, not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth, fear of the inevitable.
To you who reads this, understand this: the veil has been lifted. The shadows hold secrets that are darker and more profound than we can imagine. And the truth, once revealed, will change everything.
This is my testament. Believe it, or don’t. But know this: the world is not as it seems. The universe is vast, and we are not the apex of creation. We are but a fragment in a grand, terrifying design.
The truth is out there, waiting to be uncovered. And when it is, the world will never be the same.
The progenitors, as we came to call them, had motives far more complex and far-reaching than simple exploration or conquest. The truth unraveled slowly, like an intricate tapestry revealing a grand design. It began with fragments of intercepted communications and culminated in a terrifying, awe-inspiring understanding of our place in the universe.
The progenitors did not come from a distant star merely to observe. They were architects of life, and Earth was their grand experiment. Our planet, teeming with diverse life forms, was a controlled environment, a living laboratory designed for a singular purpose: evolution.
From the ancient texts to modern scientific discoveries, we’ve always sought answers to our origins. The progenitors provided those answers, but they came at a cost. We discovered that they seeded countless worlds, each designed to test different variables of life. Earth was unique due to its biodiversity and its potential for intelligent life.
The genetic similarities between us and the progenitors weren’t just a coincidence. They were deliberate. By seeding their own DNA into the primordial soup of Earth, they ensured a certain path of evolution. Our intelligence, our creativity, our very civilization were results of their intricate design. We were, quite literally, their children, bred and cultivated to reach a specific level of advancement.
But why? The reasons were as complex as they were chilling. The progenitors were not just scientists; they were facing an existential crisis. Their civilization, once spanning galaxies, was in decline. They needed a solution to prevent their extinction, and their answer was found in genetic diversity and adaptability.
Earth and its human inhabitants were part of a grander scheme: to evolve a species capable of assimilating their consciousness, their essence, into a new form. Our rapid technological advancement was not just a natural progression but was subtly influenced to accelerate our development. They needed us to reach a level where we could understand and perhaps even merge with their advanced consciousness.
We learned through decrypted communications and rare encounters that the progenitors were a hive mind, an interconnected collective consciousness. Over millennia, they had lost individuality, becoming a singular entity spread across countless biological hosts. This form of existence had its limits, and they sought to evolve beyond those constraints. They aimed to create a hybrid species—humans with the potential to host their collective consciousness.
This wasn’t just about survival; it was about transcendence. By merging with us, they hoped to achieve a new state of being, combining their ancient wisdom and collective power with our adaptability and creativity. We were to be the vessels for their next evolution.
However, this plan wasn’t without resistance. Among the progenitors, there were factions. Some believed in the purity of their collective consciousness, resisting the idea of merging with what they considered lesser beings. These internal conflicts spilled over into their actions on Earth, leading to sporadic yet significant interventions in our history.
As our understanding grew, so did the dread. The government’s attempts to contain this knowledge were born out of sheer terror. How could they explain to the world that we were bred for a purpose beyond our control? That our creators intended to use us to save themselves?
The intercepted transmissions became increasingly desperate. The progenitors’ time was running out, and their interest in Earth intensified. Reports of sightings and encounters surged. The military engaged in numerous clandestine operations to intercept and study these beings, leading to an underground war of sorts.
And then came the ultimate revelation: the progenitors were already among us. Their advanced technology allowed them to blend in, to influence, and to manipulate. The rise and fall of civilizations, the sudden leaps in technology, the inexplicable events in history—they were all part of the progenitors’ intricate plan to guide us towards the inevitable merging.
The truth, when finally pieced together, was more than earth-shattering. It was paradigm-shattering. We were not alone, nor were we masters of our fate. We were pawns in a cosmic game, engineered for a destiny we had yet to fully comprehend. The progenitors, our creators, were not gods but beings driven by survival and evolution, using us as their means to an end.
As I document this, I know the implications are beyond comprehension. The world must know, not to incite fear, but to understand. We stand at the brink of an unprecedented revelation, one that will redefine our existence and our place in the universe.
This is the truth, unfiltered and unvarnished. We are the progeny of ancient architects, part of a grand design stretching across the stars. Our future is intertwined with theirs, and the choices we make now will determine the fate of both our species.
2024.05.19 09:40 Broad_Swan_1855 My whoop registered 35 wake events tonight and I do not remember any of them
I remember waking up once at 5 am and thinking that I had a very good sleep, because usually I wake up more often. When I have a really deep sleep I tend to move much, especially my arms and I think that could be the reason for whoop to register do many wake events. Anyways, I was already doubting about the reliability of the device, because many times it does not recognize activities and I have to put them in manually, then it registers a short walk to the store as an activity…or it does not register my sleep at the right time. Yesterday I went to sleep at 11pm and my sleep was just registered at 2:33am. Any thoughts?
submitted by Broad_Swan_1855 to whoop [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 09:39 zoolou3105 When do babies stop touching their face and waking themselves up?
After we transition baby from swaddle to sleep sack, she wakes up a lot more frequently because of how much she touches her face. In between sleep cycles she'll stretch and start rubbing her eyes, scratching her face, and pulling her ears. Back when she was swaddled she would wiggle like she's trying to stretch and move her arms but because she couldn't, she would just fall back asleep. It's even a lot harder to get her down because as she gets sleepy she'll rub her eyes!!
When do babies stop touching their faces and waking themselves? Should I discourage it while she's falling asleep or let her do it so get learns to stop on her own?
submitted by zoolou3105 to NewParents [link] [comments]
When do babies stop touching their faces and waking themselves? Should I discourage it while she's falling asleep or let her do it so get learns to stop on her own?
2024.05.19 09:39 Massive-Meeting-7714 Skunk rip
 | Hi, my hamster died today, i found him while my bf was at work and i called him. (It’s the first pet we got together) I feel like my feelings were a bit dismissed since he told me to touch him while I was bawling as I couldn’t bring myself to touch him to fully check if he had passed (which I honestly am afraid it was my fault, maybe if I would’ve checked he could’ve survived, I’m not sure) so I ended the fr call and waited for my bf, my bf said he was fine and was ready to expect the worst (he was not.) he cried in my arms, his first pet loss, our first pet we got together, he was 1.5 years old. We loved him so dearly, he napped in my arms, we didn’t expect it, he was so excited and had no signs of pain, but now I look back at photos of him right before his death, he had started to lose fur… I’m wondering if it was skin cancer…? I have been bawling the whole night while my bf sleeps, I cannot bring myself to show him I’m still not over it, it was just today, we buried him in the backyard, under our beautiful tree, we cuddled our dogs and bunny and it helped, but I now sit here at 7 am not having slept at all wondering if I could’ve prevented it (we are 17 and 18) I gave him pets before he was buried and so did my bf, I’ve lost a lot of pets, it never gets easier, I always wonder if I could’ve prevented it, if I could’ve saved him by a minute? My beautiful boy is attached to this text. I’m not sure how to grieve rn, I also googled to see if I could pet him after he died and I only get bad signs saying I could contract a disease…. Anyways pls lmk how to grieve and if it was okay that he got pets right before the burial. My beautiful skunk. submitted by Massive-Meeting-7714 to hamsters [link] [comments] |
2024.05.19 09:38 Universitties My (autistic) best friend randomly kissed me on the mouth…?
Ok so I (16f) became friends with a classmate a few months ago (also 16f) and I’m her only friend. She genuinely doesn’t have any other friends than me and she is VERY vocal about how much she appreciates and happy she is that I spend my time with her. She can get really affectionate sometimes when expressing her feelings and it’s borderline uncomfortable sometimes but I let it slide because that’s the way she expresses her emotions. Like we had a sleepover and I got in my bed, and suddenly she climbed in next to me and then wrapped her arms around me and cuddled me as she fell asleep.
Today we hung out and at the end of the day I got on the subway to go back home and I said goodbye to her, and she said bye, and then suddenly she leaned in and kissed me on the mouth for a few seconds…I was caught offguard and just stood there, and when she pulled away she just waved and said to let her know when I got home (like she would if she hugged me).
I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little weirded out. I don’t think there’s a single person who can disagree that randomly being kissed is a surprising experience, but this may also bring up some questions about how she may feel towards me. Maybe she was just acting strange since she can do that sometimes, but like…how do you platonically kiss someone?
submitted by Universitties to autism [link] [comments]
Today we hung out and at the end of the day I got on the subway to go back home and I said goodbye to her, and she said bye, and then suddenly she leaned in and kissed me on the mouth for a few seconds…I was caught offguard and just stood there, and when she pulled away she just waved and said to let her know when I got home (like she would if she hugged me).
I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little weirded out. I don’t think there’s a single person who can disagree that randomly being kissed is a surprising experience, but this may also bring up some questions about how she may feel towards me. Maybe she was just acting strange since she can do that sometimes, but like…how do you platonically kiss someone?
2024.05.19 09:37 MoreRobots9 Question for using recliners when your right arm is in a sling
All the recliners I have seen have the controls or levers on the right side. As I am going to get rotator cuff surgery on the right arm, I won't be able to use that side to operate the controls or levers. There seems to be power lift recliners that has a control pad with a cord, but they look like they start at $800.
What do folks with right side rotator cuff surgeries use in terms of recliners?
submitted by MoreRobots9 to RotatorCuff [link] [comments]
What do folks with right side rotator cuff surgeries use in terms of recliners?
2024.05.19 09:35 ChallengeMod Start of Week #3. Check-in closes Wednesday, May 22 at 11:59pm EDT (23 May @ 03:59 am UTC)
Start of Week #3. Check-in closes Wednesday, May 22 at 11:59pm EDT (23 May @ 03:59 am UTC)
Read this entire page so that you are not disqualified by missing any important stepsClick here for an invite to the FitChallenge discord server
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If you do not correctly post, your submission may be marked invalid and you may need to make a correction post.
Weight Loss
[Scroll further down for Physique]Weight Loss Check-in Rules:
- Go here and fill out this form. This is for the weekly weight tracker and is REQUIRED.
- Take photos of Scale using the following verification words/phrase. "ETHICAL"
- Upload Scale photo to imgur, through reddit, or any other image hosting site. They do not need to be public on imgur for us to see them. If they are public on imgur, you may receive comments, etc. from their user base.
- Create a new post using the format shown below. If you hosted your photos on imgur, add your photo links into the text post, not in a comment. Imgur has implemented a fairly strict nsfw policy that seems to affect a lot of our members. For old.reddit users, I believe you'll have to use new.reddit to upload multiple images.
Physique
Physique Check-in Rules:- Create new text post using the format show below. No photos required.
Unofficial
Unofficial Check-in Rules:- Follow the check-in rules for the category above that you have chosen and use /unofficial/ as your /Week #/.
- The unofficial category is not tracked for challenge purposes by FitChallenge staff. We have decided to offer this category for those who have missed out on the official start week and would like to be part of the community and take advantage of the help/advice/motivation that we can give.
POSTING INSTRUCTIONS/INFORMATION
Weekly check-ins will be due by 11:59 pm Eastern on each Wednesday of the challenge. During each weekly check-in, challengers will be required to make a short text post giving us an idea of your progression. For example, you could answer these questions: What are your goals? Are you achieving them? How?Full Body Front, Back, and at least one Side photo are required for everyone at the start and final check-ins with an additional Scale photo required weekly for the Weight Loss category. The check-in post title will tell you when full body photos are required. Photos must be taken in the same, or very similar, non-baggy clothing each week, preferably either underwear or a swimsuit and showing as much skin as possible. For the weight loss category this isn't as strict, but please keep it similar. If NSFW, please mark your post as such. The only photo editing allowed will be to cover your face or any identifying marks. At least the Front photo needs to have a handwritten sign containing a word or phrase chosen by /FitChallenge mods. Please take photos relaxed and not flexed, standing straight with your arms loosely hanging at your sides. Flexed photos may now be added as extra if you'd like to keep track in your postings. Photos must be hosted on imgur and linked in your text post. Please remember to update us on your goals or other progress this week.
Submit a new text post to the subreddit and title it in this format:
Weight Loss/Week #/Male or Female/### lbs(ex. Weight Loss/Week 8/Female/154 lbs.)
Physique/Week #/Male or Female
(ex. Physique/Week 8/Female)
Weight Loss/Unofficial/Male or Female/### lbs
(ex. Weight Loss/Unofficial/Female/154 lbs.)
2024.05.19 09:33 FossilBoi Viracocha Unbound - Part Twenty: False Bottom
Once the grisly hunt had ended, we waited until the hunters were over the hill and gone. As we sat in the Reina del Cielo, we processed everything. Not only were the Pullman-Seldano people here and messing up the place, but were going as far as to commit wanton murder on the wildlife. “Ok, guys,” Calderon said, breaking the tense silence. “I know that was awful to see - and take it from me, I’ve seen some shit across the world, all kinds of shit done to animals - but we’ve got to keep going. What if they come back?” We reluctantly agreed, and off we went, initially silently as we feared there may still be some people in the area. We continued northwest along the Yaku River, and as another hour ticked by, we found ourselves at yet another tributary. This time, the one that connects the Yaku, Utjawi, and Kasike Rivers. “Hold on, we gotta do a quick reorientation along the current here,” Calderon announced as he started to prevent the plane from drifting off down the wrong river. But then, as we started our cross, an explosion shook the water, and we were briefly tossed up into the air, landing back down with a tremendous splash. “What the hell? What was that?”
Then the whole river system started to shake, the water bashing against and spilling onto the shores like an overflowing bathtub. As this happened, over the sound of roaring, agitated water came the sound of stone crumbling. Then, as Calderon tried to maneuver to where the river continued to our northwest, one of the hydrofoils made contact with the shoreline, and we were briefly stuck. Once the hydrofoil was dislodged, then our whole right side began to sink, and we saw that the shoreline was collapsing, sand and silt falling into a large space below. With our left side in the air and the water pushing us, we found ourselves falling downward. We fell surprisingly not far down, only about 15 or 20 feet down. We landed in a pool of brownish water, and as the river water and falling sand and silt above followed us down, we looked around to see just what kind of cavity we fell into. Surprisingly (or perhaps not, at this point), it was manmade.
We had landed in a large tunnel dug into the bedrock. The ‘river’ we landed in seemed to be a stream of dirty runoff following the main path of the tunnel route next to us. The end behind us led on into blackness, and the end in front of us was shut away by a steel gate. 30 feet away sat a large vehicle next to stacks of steel crates. This vehicle resembled a massive bulldozer, with several clawed metal arms tucked on the side, giving it a somewhat insectoid appearance. The main blade was divided into two parts, which resembled enormous metal claws then they did a bulldozer blade. As my eyes wandered around the area, I noticed that the vehicle was restrained by chains, with a small sign nearby reading in big red letters: “OUT OF ORDER.” We reluctantly disembarked the plane to assess the damage, and while it wasn’t severe, it was yet another blow that stopped our progress. We had resigned ourselves to our little inconvenient fate when we heard a snarl above us. Looking up and peering over the edge was the head of a toothy gulper. The aquatic dinosaur clearly took an interest in us, and even though it seemed to be deciding whether or not to follow us down, the river made its choice for it, the water shoving the animal down with us, thankfully next to the plane instead of on top of it.
The enormous animal flopped around upon landing and tried to go for us. Running back inside the safety of the plane, we were shoved into the rock wall to our left, and Calderon and Missy aimed weapons at the creature, but didn’t fire yet. As this happened, the toothy gulper tried to wrap itself around the plane. “What are you waiting for? Fire!” Mary Ann yelled. Missy shook her head. “Not yet, it has to line up.” Mary Ann looked confused, approaching Missy’s station. “Now?” Missy shook her head. The creature was now bearing down on our right wing, its elongated body lining up to around the gate. “Now!” Missy exclaimed, and the electrical guns fired. The toothy gulper was shot backwards, flying back at great speed as it’s enormous body collided with the gate, bringing it down with a loud clash. With this came the sounds of further objects clattering. As the dust cleared, the path ahead was shown to be dimly lit, with a row of weak yellow lights along the ceiling. Shelves collapsed as tools and other objects rolled out into view. One of these was unlike the others: a yellow crystal that caught the light as it rolled out, with bits of stone still stuck to it. Then the appearance of the crystal made sense. Viracochite. This was a mine. And the smoking gun? The label on the vehicle not far away, and logo proudly emblazoned on various tools and other items spilling out? Pullman-Seldano.
submitted by FossilBoi to MonarchCustomTitans [link] [comments]
Then the whole river system started to shake, the water bashing against and spilling onto the shores like an overflowing bathtub. As this happened, over the sound of roaring, agitated water came the sound of stone crumbling. Then, as Calderon tried to maneuver to where the river continued to our northwest, one of the hydrofoils made contact with the shoreline, and we were briefly stuck. Once the hydrofoil was dislodged, then our whole right side began to sink, and we saw that the shoreline was collapsing, sand and silt falling into a large space below. With our left side in the air and the water pushing us, we found ourselves falling downward. We fell surprisingly not far down, only about 15 or 20 feet down. We landed in a pool of brownish water, and as the river water and falling sand and silt above followed us down, we looked around to see just what kind of cavity we fell into. Surprisingly (or perhaps not, at this point), it was manmade.
We had landed in a large tunnel dug into the bedrock. The ‘river’ we landed in seemed to be a stream of dirty runoff following the main path of the tunnel route next to us. The end behind us led on into blackness, and the end in front of us was shut away by a steel gate. 30 feet away sat a large vehicle next to stacks of steel crates. This vehicle resembled a massive bulldozer, with several clawed metal arms tucked on the side, giving it a somewhat insectoid appearance. The main blade was divided into two parts, which resembled enormous metal claws then they did a bulldozer blade. As my eyes wandered around the area, I noticed that the vehicle was restrained by chains, with a small sign nearby reading in big red letters: “OUT OF ORDER.” We reluctantly disembarked the plane to assess the damage, and while it wasn’t severe, it was yet another blow that stopped our progress. We had resigned ourselves to our little inconvenient fate when we heard a snarl above us. Looking up and peering over the edge was the head of a toothy gulper. The aquatic dinosaur clearly took an interest in us, and even though it seemed to be deciding whether or not to follow us down, the river made its choice for it, the water shoving the animal down with us, thankfully next to the plane instead of on top of it.
The enormous animal flopped around upon landing and tried to go for us. Running back inside the safety of the plane, we were shoved into the rock wall to our left, and Calderon and Missy aimed weapons at the creature, but didn’t fire yet. As this happened, the toothy gulper tried to wrap itself around the plane. “What are you waiting for? Fire!” Mary Ann yelled. Missy shook her head. “Not yet, it has to line up.” Mary Ann looked confused, approaching Missy’s station. “Now?” Missy shook her head. The creature was now bearing down on our right wing, its elongated body lining up to around the gate. “Now!” Missy exclaimed, and the electrical guns fired. The toothy gulper was shot backwards, flying back at great speed as it’s enormous body collided with the gate, bringing it down with a loud clash. With this came the sounds of further objects clattering. As the dust cleared, the path ahead was shown to be dimly lit, with a row of weak yellow lights along the ceiling. Shelves collapsed as tools and other objects rolled out into view. One of these was unlike the others: a yellow crystal that caught the light as it rolled out, with bits of stone still stuck to it. Then the appearance of the crystal made sense. Viracochite. This was a mine. And the smoking gun? The label on the vehicle not far away, and logo proudly emblazoned on various tools and other items spilling out? Pullman-Seldano.
2024.05.19 09:33 bloodycupcake07 Marks from Psoriasis
Hi. I had psoriasis when I was in high school (2012). The intense flares are gone now but there are still small to medium flares triggered by stress, diet, or weather.
My question is, the intense flares I got in 2012 left dark marks on my legs and arms, does anyone experienced the same? If so, did you find any medication that will help?
I tried going to the derma, tried multiple lasers, creams, but nothing seems to be working. Hope you could help me. Thank you!
submitted by bloodycupcake07 to Psoriasis [link] [comments]
My question is, the intense flares I got in 2012 left dark marks on my legs and arms, does anyone experienced the same? If so, did you find any medication that will help?
I tried going to the derma, tried multiple lasers, creams, but nothing seems to be working. Hope you could help me. Thank you!
2024.05.19 09:32 RedditAwesome2 ACL reconstruction (+MCL/LAT Meniscus injury)- Do NOT Skip Pre-hab. No pain, no brace, one crutch DAY 1 Post-Op. WTF.
I just wanted to share my experience here and as I had never seen something like this and I actually had an OVERWHEMINGLY positive experience with this surgery. I realise there is luck + age(29) involved but pre-hab really paid off.
There will be a tl;dr + my final PREHAB exercises.
On march 3rd I tore my MCL (2nd degree) + ACL (full tear) + Lateral meniscus (2nd degree leision) from my MRI. I couldn’t bear any weight and upon ER visit I was given a brace.
First 30 days I wore the brace (because of the torn MCL which requires it to heal on its own) and could only put a very minimal amount of weight on my injured leg. Did that, then started PT on day 30.
Day 30 after injury - had no muscle on my leg, couldn’t bend my knee at all. Had my first PT session where they removed my brace. I started PT 3 times a week at a sports centre where they also worked with the best surgeons in my city. PT was kind of painful and started out slow but it was getting better each day. On week 2 of PT I started doing all the exercises at home on rest days, so basically I did PT 7 times per week.
Day 60 after injury - was supposed to have my surgery here but my Physio suggested to my surgeon to delay. I still went for a check up where my surgeon said he could have done the surgery that week and it was good enough but I/We declined and opted in to wait another 2 weeks of PT. At this point in time my leg was still a bit stiff but after warming up I could bend it properly. My extension was also pretty good / flat but couldn’t match my hyperextension.
Day 60 - 74 after injury - I kept going hard at PT for the last two weeks before surgery, sometimes I did PT at home twice, even went for stationary bike at the gym. At this point for the extra added two weeks, my leg actually started feeling like my own leg again. The progress, as suggested by my PT, was INSANE. Day and night difference. Some days still felt a bit stiff but I was able to lower the bicycle seat a lot, gained a bunch of muscle back, swelling in the mornings was VERY minimal. I could sleep on my side etc. I felt like a normal person again. Sure I could only walk slowly but I didn’t have ANY limp anymore, so much that car drivers would get annoyed at me at crossroads for walking slowly.
Day 75 after injury - SURGERY DAY. I went in pretty nervous but I talked to my PT who as I mentioned also worked at the clinic and was there right before my surgery. He gave me encouraging words but I was still in panic mode. My turn for surgery came, went in, had the ?partial anasthesia where you stop feeling your legs which felt super weird to me. I was still pretty nervous and kind of shivering so they asked if I wanted full anasthesia or just some sort of drugs added to my systems to relax. I said I wanted the funny thing (LOL) and sure enough, the nurse puts in the funny thing and within what felt like 30 seconds, I started laughing in my head and hearing my own voice saying funny shit like “lol finally getting surgery this shits cool haha”. It felt super weird as my anxiety disappeared within seconds. That’s when the surgeon popped in my view and told me the good news - my meniscus had healed properly (as well as the MCL) since I wore the brace for 30 days after injury and did prehab. The guys at my prehab place did tell me most times with the brace and prehab the meniscus can fix itself but I didn’t think that would be my case. So when surgeon told me I did a big thumbsup, laughed a bit and said some dumb shit like “awesome” lol. My entire 2 hour ACL surgery felt like 5 minutes after they had put in the “relax” drug. I loved it, I barely remember any of it other than seeing my leg being thrown around a bit. DEFINITELY ASK FOR THE FUNNY DRUG IT MADE ME SO CALM AND HAPPY (I never do any other drugs, rarely drink etc but this felt like getting verrrryyy tipsy right before going black out drunk usually lol). Surgery’s done, it’s a success, they send me back to my room. This place also uses drainage for 48hr so you stay in the clinic. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but I was so buzzed up with the funny things and kept telling each nurse how good the stuff they put in me was LOL. I probably still looked worried as they kept making jokes about me being very worried and how they’d take care. They kept asking me if I had any pain and that’s when I used my REDDIT KNOWLEDGE and told them my pain was 1/10 but I heard you wanna take meds preemptively as if you feel any pain - meds not gonna work. Some time passed and they gave me the hardcore painkillers in my veins. They had some “program” where they give you stuff each 4 hours. I felt NO PAIN AT ALL. My accident felt WORSE than laying in the hospital bed post op. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but it never did.
ONE DAY POST OP - I was playing on my switch when at about 9 AM my PT storms into the room and starts telling me to quit playing lmao. He asked me if I could do a leg raise, and sure enough I could. I knew I could because while laying down I kind of kept checking my mind muscle connection and even after surgery I could still feel my muscles. He tells me to do 25 and he’ll be back later. Mind you, 25 leg raises with a drainage and a heavy-ish brace, under painkillers that were given me an hour earlier as part of the 1 per 4 hour things. But I was able to do them.
Fast forward one hour and my PT is back. He’s telling me that we’re gonna start walking. I’m happy and get up. Immedietely a bit lightheaded so I took some water and was standing up on two crutches. They had previously shown me how to use crutches at PT, so I tried to walk as fast and normal looking as possible. To my shock, 3 steps in, my PT literally laughed and KICKED THE BACK OF MY OPERATED LEG and said “go faster nothing to worry about, I don’t gave much time here lol”. The kick kinda hurt but it made me more confident walking. I did about 10-15 steps on two crutches, he told me to not lean on them but just use for balance. Did some more steps and he literally grabbed one of my crutches and ran away laughing. Told me that I only need one and sure enough - I could walk with one crutch (and the basic support brace). He then taught me how to go up and down stairs and gave me 6 exercises to do in my hospital bed. I did them and that was it. He said “no limit on walking and bear as much weight as you can”. I literally couldn’t believe it. Day ONE post op, one crutch. I had NEVER even read a story like that on this sub. Felt crazy good to know that doing the 6 weeks PT with him saved me so much trouble. As a side note, the other patients in my room, some of which with the same doctor felt TRAMENDOUS amount of pain, couldn’t sleep, kept hearing them do little screams from the pain etc. etc. etc. I was the only one who did extreme PT before surgery from my room.
Day 2 post op - had drainage AND BRACE removed and was told to only rest up to not have any more swelling (drainage is used to remove swelling basically). So I laid around in the hospital bed, got up to the toilet a few times and could only walk with one crutch no brace and that was day 2.
Day 3 post op - I went home, managed to fit in car front seat, did the exercises I was told to do and could sort of walk one crutch only to get around even tho it was not easy and felt a bit sus.
——
My FINAL PRE-OP list of PT EXERCISES in the correct order: 1. 12-15 minutes of stationary bike on the lowest possible seat where I felt no pain or light in my knee. 2. 3x15 or climbing up a stair, as high as I could. You put your injured leg on the stair, you climb up with your other leg and then put the other leg back on the ground. At this time I could do a pretty good height on this exercise and do slow negatives. The height was about 3 standart staircase steps or 3x a regular stepper. 3. 3x20 slowly walking down a stair, from as high as possible. Walking down was harder for me, so my maximum was about 2 steps high (66% of climbing). You step on the top step and use your healthy leg to touch the ground and then “jump” back up on your injured leg which never leaves the higher step. 4. 4x20 Squatting on a very low bench. Basically slowly sitting down to something as low as you can while making sure to bend your knees equally. I could do this at two steps heigh where my knees would bend quite a bit more than 90 degrees. Still felt a bit of pain here 5. Walk around for 30-60 sec instead of rest between all of these. If I had energy left, I would add in a few mins at the bike at a lower seat.
That’s it, do all of them as slowly as possible. I did these sometimes twice a day if I had the willpower and my knee felt good. Also used ice after doing them sometimes and made sure to have mind muscle connection and use my injured leg as much as possible. ——-
Tldr; DO PRE-HAB. Managed to walk one crutch only DAY ONE after ACL reconstruction with a temporary brace that was removed day two and went out of the hospital on just one crutch. Only minor pain after surgery 2/10. A bit painful to walk around and bear weight but that’s as expected. Do your prehab because others in my room couldn’t walk at all and were in agonizing pain for 3 days after surgery.
Thanks for reading, I hope this post is helpful for fellow sports lovers. I am 29 years old / 6’1 / 180 lbs, did mostly bodybuilding at the gym and bicycle.
submitted by RedditAwesome2 to ACL [link] [comments]
There will be a tl;dr + my final PREHAB exercises.
On march 3rd I tore my MCL (2nd degree) + ACL (full tear) + Lateral meniscus (2nd degree leision) from my MRI. I couldn’t bear any weight and upon ER visit I was given a brace.
First 30 days I wore the brace (because of the torn MCL which requires it to heal on its own) and could only put a very minimal amount of weight on my injured leg. Did that, then started PT on day 30.
Day 30 after injury - had no muscle on my leg, couldn’t bend my knee at all. Had my first PT session where they removed my brace. I started PT 3 times a week at a sports centre where they also worked with the best surgeons in my city. PT was kind of painful and started out slow but it was getting better each day. On week 2 of PT I started doing all the exercises at home on rest days, so basically I did PT 7 times per week.
Day 60 after injury - was supposed to have my surgery here but my Physio suggested to my surgeon to delay. I still went for a check up where my surgeon said he could have done the surgery that week and it was good enough but I/We declined and opted in to wait another 2 weeks of PT. At this point in time my leg was still a bit stiff but after warming up I could bend it properly. My extension was also pretty good / flat but couldn’t match my hyperextension.
Day 60 - 74 after injury - I kept going hard at PT for the last two weeks before surgery, sometimes I did PT at home twice, even went for stationary bike at the gym. At this point for the extra added two weeks, my leg actually started feeling like my own leg again. The progress, as suggested by my PT, was INSANE. Day and night difference. Some days still felt a bit stiff but I was able to lower the bicycle seat a lot, gained a bunch of muscle back, swelling in the mornings was VERY minimal. I could sleep on my side etc. I felt like a normal person again. Sure I could only walk slowly but I didn’t have ANY limp anymore, so much that car drivers would get annoyed at me at crossroads for walking slowly.
Day 75 after injury - SURGERY DAY. I went in pretty nervous but I talked to my PT who as I mentioned also worked at the clinic and was there right before my surgery. He gave me encouraging words but I was still in panic mode. My turn for surgery came, went in, had the ?partial anasthesia where you stop feeling your legs which felt super weird to me. I was still pretty nervous and kind of shivering so they asked if I wanted full anasthesia or just some sort of drugs added to my systems to relax. I said I wanted the funny thing (LOL) and sure enough, the nurse puts in the funny thing and within what felt like 30 seconds, I started laughing in my head and hearing my own voice saying funny shit like “lol finally getting surgery this shits cool haha”. It felt super weird as my anxiety disappeared within seconds. That’s when the surgeon popped in my view and told me the good news - my meniscus had healed properly (as well as the MCL) since I wore the brace for 30 days after injury and did prehab. The guys at my prehab place did tell me most times with the brace and prehab the meniscus can fix itself but I didn’t think that would be my case. So when surgeon told me I did a big thumbsup, laughed a bit and said some dumb shit like “awesome” lol. My entire 2 hour ACL surgery felt like 5 minutes after they had put in the “relax” drug. I loved it, I barely remember any of it other than seeing my leg being thrown around a bit. DEFINITELY ASK FOR THE FUNNY DRUG IT MADE ME SO CALM AND HAPPY (I never do any other drugs, rarely drink etc but this felt like getting verrrryyy tipsy right before going black out drunk usually lol). Surgery’s done, it’s a success, they send me back to my room. This place also uses drainage for 48hr so you stay in the clinic. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but I was so buzzed up with the funny things and kept telling each nurse how good the stuff they put in me was LOL. I probably still looked worried as they kept making jokes about me being very worried and how they’d take care. They kept asking me if I had any pain and that’s when I used my REDDIT KNOWLEDGE and told them my pain was 1/10 but I heard you wanna take meds preemptively as if you feel any pain - meds not gonna work. Some time passed and they gave me the hardcore painkillers in my veins. They had some “program” where they give you stuff each 4 hours. I felt NO PAIN AT ALL. My accident felt WORSE than laying in the hospital bed post op. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but it never did.
ONE DAY POST OP - I was playing on my switch when at about 9 AM my PT storms into the room and starts telling me to quit playing lmao. He asked me if I could do a leg raise, and sure enough I could. I knew I could because while laying down I kind of kept checking my mind muscle connection and even after surgery I could still feel my muscles. He tells me to do 25 and he’ll be back later. Mind you, 25 leg raises with a drainage and a heavy-ish brace, under painkillers that were given me an hour earlier as part of the 1 per 4 hour things. But I was able to do them.
Fast forward one hour and my PT is back. He’s telling me that we’re gonna start walking. I’m happy and get up. Immedietely a bit lightheaded so I took some water and was standing up on two crutches. They had previously shown me how to use crutches at PT, so I tried to walk as fast and normal looking as possible. To my shock, 3 steps in, my PT literally laughed and KICKED THE BACK OF MY OPERATED LEG and said “go faster nothing to worry about, I don’t gave much time here lol”. The kick kinda hurt but it made me more confident walking. I did about 10-15 steps on two crutches, he told me to not lean on them but just use for balance. Did some more steps and he literally grabbed one of my crutches and ran away laughing. Told me that I only need one and sure enough - I could walk with one crutch (and the basic support brace). He then taught me how to go up and down stairs and gave me 6 exercises to do in my hospital bed. I did them and that was it. He said “no limit on walking and bear as much weight as you can”. I literally couldn’t believe it. Day ONE post op, one crutch. I had NEVER even read a story like that on this sub. Felt crazy good to know that doing the 6 weeks PT with him saved me so much trouble. As a side note, the other patients in my room, some of which with the same doctor felt TRAMENDOUS amount of pain, couldn’t sleep, kept hearing them do little screams from the pain etc. etc. etc. I was the only one who did extreme PT before surgery from my room.
Day 2 post op - had drainage AND BRACE removed and was told to only rest up to not have any more swelling (drainage is used to remove swelling basically). So I laid around in the hospital bed, got up to the toilet a few times and could only walk with one crutch no brace and that was day 2.
Day 3 post op - I went home, managed to fit in car front seat, did the exercises I was told to do and could sort of walk one crutch only to get around even tho it was not easy and felt a bit sus.
——
My FINAL PRE-OP list of PT EXERCISES in the correct order: 1. 12-15 minutes of stationary bike on the lowest possible seat where I felt no pain or light in my knee. 2. 3x15 or climbing up a stair, as high as I could. You put your injured leg on the stair, you climb up with your other leg and then put the other leg back on the ground. At this time I could do a pretty good height on this exercise and do slow negatives. The height was about 3 standart staircase steps or 3x a regular stepper. 3. 3x20 slowly walking down a stair, from as high as possible. Walking down was harder for me, so my maximum was about 2 steps high (66% of climbing). You step on the top step and use your healthy leg to touch the ground and then “jump” back up on your injured leg which never leaves the higher step. 4. 4x20 Squatting on a very low bench. Basically slowly sitting down to something as low as you can while making sure to bend your knees equally. I could do this at two steps heigh where my knees would bend quite a bit more than 90 degrees. Still felt a bit of pain here 5. Walk around for 30-60 sec instead of rest between all of these. If I had energy left, I would add in a few mins at the bike at a lower seat.
That’s it, do all of them as slowly as possible. I did these sometimes twice a day if I had the willpower and my knee felt good. Also used ice after doing them sometimes and made sure to have mind muscle connection and use my injured leg as much as possible. ——-
Tldr; DO PRE-HAB. Managed to walk one crutch only DAY ONE after ACL reconstruction with a temporary brace that was removed day two and went out of the hospital on just one crutch. Only minor pain after surgery 2/10. A bit painful to walk around and bear weight but that’s as expected. Do your prehab because others in my room couldn’t walk at all and were in agonizing pain for 3 days after surgery.
Thanks for reading, I hope this post is helpful for fellow sports lovers. I am 29 years old / 6’1 / 180 lbs, did mostly bodybuilding at the gym and bicycle.
2024.05.19 09:29 Secret-Tomatillo5044 I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web pt1
I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.
submitted by Secret-Tomatillo5044 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.
2024.05.19 09:29 Timely-Charge-2622 Ever hate it when your arms are sore and your mind panics thinking its a heart attack
Yesterday I lifted a heavy big box about 75 pounds. I didn’t stretch my arms and lifted it and took it upstairs. It was a pain. It was damn heavy. The next day both my arms were sore. I did some heavy movement with my arms today and my left arm started hurting way more. Then all of a sudden my mind was panicking and I was thinking that I was getting a heart attack. It’s weird how my mind can think things like that and make it feel real.
submitted by Timely-Charge-2622 to Anxiety [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 09:28 HelpaguyoutTA Gun Ownership as Adult-Involuntary Mental Hospitalization as Minor
(I wasn't sure what flair was appropriate)
Help would definitely be appreciated. I live in CO. About a decade ago (in a separate state), as a minor, I had a pretty rough home life that lead to a situation involving a single incident of self arm and a subsequent involuntary stay in a mental health facility.
Since then, I've spent over a decade with no issues. Went to college, have had a successful career, lot's of close relationships, no psychiatric or legal issues whatsoever, nothing in my personal life nor on paper. I'm a genuinely happy and really well measured guy. Other than that one embarrassing stain on my life, that is. In past decade, I've gone through all kinds of trials and tribulations and have stayed well adjusted throughout. I grew up.
Since moving here, many of my friends here in CO own fire arms, which I've enjoyed shooting with them. For both recreational (hunting with my friends, gun range), and self defense (I almost got killed by some random guy with a wooden club/nail combo while backpacking in a preserve) I'd like to start purchasing firearms. When looking into it, I noticed that in the ATF 4473 form asks:
Any help would really be appreciated.
submitted by HelpaguyoutTA to AskALawyer [link] [comments]
Help would definitely be appreciated. I live in CO. About a decade ago (in a separate state), as a minor, I had a pretty rough home life that lead to a situation involving a single incident of self arm and a subsequent involuntary stay in a mental health facility.
Since then, I've spent over a decade with no issues. Went to college, have had a successful career, lot's of close relationships, no psychiatric or legal issues whatsoever, nothing in my personal life nor on paper. I'm a genuinely happy and really well measured guy. Other than that one embarrassing stain on my life, that is. In past decade, I've gone through all kinds of trials and tribulations and have stayed well adjusted throughout. I grew up.
Since moving here, many of my friends here in CO own fire arms, which I've enjoyed shooting with them. For both recreational (hunting with my friends, gun range), and self defense (I almost got killed by some random guy with a wooden club/nail combo while backpacking in a preserve) I'd like to start purchasing firearms. When looking into it, I noticed that in the ATF 4473 form asks:
Have you ever been adjudicated as a mental defective OR have you ever been committed to a mental institution?For obvious reasons I am not willing to lie on a background check. Am I completely ineligible to purchase a firearm even if I was minor, and over a decade a go? Did I unknowingly forfeit my right to protect myself and bear arms when I was a dumb kid just trying to get away from my home in an irresponsible and short sighted way? I'm absolutely not a threat to myself or others, is there any kind of legal process which I could go through to prove that and gain eligibility to own a firearm, or am I permanently prohibited?
Any help would really be appreciated.