Bumps on inner corner of my mouth

News and Notes on the Structured Query Language

2008.11.30 06:43 News and Notes on the Structured Query Language

The goal of /SQL is to provide a place for interesting and informative SQL content and discussions.

2010.05.15 15:04 PearlJam MapleStory

The Reddit community for MapleStory. Not affiliated with or restricted by Nexon. https://discord.gg/ms

2013.12.18 20:31 beaaycan Emotional Neglect

This is still a new community where we're trying to frame the discussion of a very overlooked part of the human condition: childhood emotional neglect. Help us get things started by contributing your thoughts and inviting others to join.

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2024.05.22 03:09 pixie218 [TOMT] [Commercial/PSA] [2013] Processed Meat

I remember seeing what I think was a PSA about processed meat back in March 2013 while I was in New York City. I don't know what channel it was on, but it might've been some news station from what I remember.
A guy is in a corner store or a gas station about to eat a stick of some kind of processed meat, when it starts talking to him and has a human like face (I know it sounds weird), and it tells the guy not to eat him because of the health risks or something like that, the guy doesn't listen and decides to eat it anyway and the stick of meat said some sentence with a swear word (I specifically remember the censorship beep in the ad). As the guy puts the stick in his mouth he then starts getting images in his head like his life is flashing before his eyes of processed meat being made along with frightening sounds and maybe some music(?), and he gets surprised and decides not to eat the stick of meat.
I know this sounds strange but this PSA has been in my mind for 11 years now and I can't find it anywhere online. If anyone reading this was in NYC during this time and remembers this ad please let me know. Thanks for reading.

submitted by pixie218 to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 02:39 WittyWizard666 36 M Seeking a Genuine Connection! Join Me on Life's Adventure

Hello,
I'm the Witty Wizard, a 36-year-old guy from Vancouver Canada who believes in cherishing life's moments and the people we share them with. I'm at a point where I feel grounded and fulfilled, both financially and emotionally, and I'm excited about the possibility of finding a meaningful connection.
Nature is where I find solace and inspiration. Whether it's biking through trails or casting a line into the water, I cherish the tranquility of the outdoors. Exploring new places is a passion of mine; there's something magical about discovering the beauty of our world, whether it's in bustling cities or remote corners.
But I also appreciate the quiet moments, like losing myself in the pages of a good book or indulging my inner geek with comic books and gaming. It's these simple pleasures that add depth and richness to life.
What I'm truly seeking is someone who shares my enthusiasm for life and is ready to build something genuine and lasting. Honesty and open communication are paramount to me, as I believe they form the foundation of any strong relationship.
If you're someone who values authenticity and is ready to explore the possibilities of a committed partnership, I would be thrilled to get to know you better. Let's embark on this journey together and see where it takes us.
Warm regards,

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2024.05.22 02:37 WittyWizard666 36 [M4F] Seeking a Genuine Connection! Join Me on Life's Adventure

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2024.05.22 02:36 WittyWizard666 [36/M] Seeking Genuine Connection: 36-Year-Old From Vancouver Canada

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2024.05.22 02:35 WittyWizard666 36 [M4F] Seeking Genuine Connection: 36-Year-Old From Vancouver Canada Ready for Something Real

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2024.05.22 02:34 WittyWizard666 36 [M4F] Vancouver Canada Seeking a Genuine Connection! Join Me on Life's Adventure

submitted by WittyWizard666 to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 02:21 RedditBoz A story based on The Holders Series - Seeking the Holder of the End

My mind raced as I stood before the door of the mental institution. I couldn't believe I was actually going balls-deep all because of a post on some random horror forum. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and opened the door, surprised by the lack of resistance from it.
I slowly approached the counter. The receptionist’s eyes were sunken, clearly exhausted after a long day of work. I steeled myself and said, "I wish to visit someone who calls himself 'The Holder of the End'." Her face lost all color, an expression of pure childlike terror washing over her features. She took out a key from a drawer and led me down a dimly lit hallway.
As the receptionist walked me down the hallway, I heard the sound of someone talking to themselves in a language I couldn't make heads or tails of, but something about it filled the depths of my soul with a kind of fear I couldn't describe if I even tried.
Suddenly, the talking stopped, and my blood froze in its veins, but then I remembered the instructions. I stopped on the spot and quickly stammered out, "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." There were a few moments of silence, after which the voice started talking again. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued on, my heart still hammering in my chest.
After what seemed like an eternity, I arrived at a solid metal door. The receptionist fled and left me on my own to face the horror that awaited me. I opened the door and entered a cold, windowless room with only a single man sat hunched in the corner, muttering to himself in that same unknown language.
I closed the distance between myself and the man, steeled myself once more and asked, "What happens when they all come together?"
The man slowly turned around and stared into my eyes, his gaze piercing me like darts. He began to speak, and out of his mouth came excruciatingly detailed, vivid descriptions of horrors I had once thought to be unimaginable; incomprehensible. With every word the man uttered, I could feel my mind teetering on the brink of insanity, but I urged myself to stay focused. The man held an object in his hands, and I wanted so desperately to look at it, but I didn’t dare avert my eyes from his gaze, knowing that to even so much as steal a glance at the object would lead to a gruesome, cruel death of horror unrelenting and thousands of times more painful than I could ever hope to imagine.
Just as I thought my mind was about to break, the man stopped talking, but continued to stare at me with that razor-sharp gaze. Somehow, however, I knew that it was finally safe to turn around. So I did. I turned and ran through the door, and practically sprinted back up that hallway as fast as my legs would take me. I wanted to get out of that horrible place and back to my reality.
The hallway seemed never-ending, but my efforts were soon rewarded by the exit. I ran past the receptionist’s desk, out the door I first entered… and breathed. The fresh air had never tasted so sweet, but even still, I knew that my journey was far from over.
I wasn’t sure whether the horrors that man spoke to me, or his piercing gaze, would ever leave my mind, but there was one thing I knew for certain. That object the man held, the object I didn’t dare to look at, was only one of 538. It was my duty to ensure that they would never come together. Never.

submitted by RedditBoz to creepypasta [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 02:20 SunHeadPrime I Think I'm Being Stalked by A Smaller Version of Myself

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

submitted by SunHeadPrime to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 02:17 YelloHD Selling some vinyls in the EU

Hi, I've been collecting anime ost vinyls since covid started, but I realized it a while ago that I haven't even listened once to some of them and so I decided to downsize my collection. All of the vinyls I'm selling are unplayed. I did open some of them, since I originally didn't plan on reselling and I changed out the original inner sleeves with this one (usually I also kept the original sleeves): https://www.amazon.de/-/en/gp/product/B00XSM1CM2
I sorted out my collection and made a google sheets file more than half a year ago, but ended up not posting it (probably thanks to my ADD). Finally I decided to check the value of them and try to give a fair selling price. Since I made this list I had preorders arrive so I will most likely update it in the future with a few more like Tamako Market, No game no life, Saya no Uta...
About the items: The discogs link should take you to the vinyl's correct variant page, "-" means there were no variants. Condition of these are all unplayed, "new" and "like new" means the same = opened, sleeve changed to the better one and put inside a record sleeve.
About the prices: I looked at sold discogs, ebay items and tried to give a fair estimate.
About the transaction process: I will send you a paypal goods and services invoice. I don't charge extra for paypal fees. You can pay in euro or usd.
About Shipping: I only shipped figures before and not vinyls, but shipping cost to EU countries should be around 15-25 euros. I can ship outside the EU, but it's usually expensive 35-50 euros. Local pickup in Budapest, Hungary is also an option :) I bought some vinyl mailers, kept some good quality ones from hhv, blackscreenrecords and the expensive ones will be shipped bubble wrapped in a box, like how cdjapan ships them.
About contacting me: Feel free to dm me if you would like to check how much the shipping cost would be to your country. I can also send pictures of the vinyl, but please only ask for it if you really are interested in buying it. Since I'm planning on putting these up on discogs/ebay I wouldn't really want to lower prices for a few weeks, but I'm still happy to listen to offers.
Sorry about the long post, also I couldn't figure out the table formatting, check the google sheets file for a cleaner look and discogs links: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1e88aFgmdMZ97yj03JcH3MzAaPIHskCwj3leLfb_56pU
Elfen Lied Repress,Pink and Black Marbeld [Lucy Marbled] New 35
Dropkick on My Devil! - New 35
Made In Abyss (Original Soundtrack 2) Clear Magenta Splatter & Clear Blue Splatter New 130
Made In Abyss Original Soundtrack Grey / Blue, not numbered unplayed, 1 bent corner 350
Demon Slayer: Gurenge / Homura - New, never played 65
Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (TV Anime) - Sealed 125
Puella Magi Madoka Magica Ultimate Best - Seald 140
Evangelion: One Last Kiss Japanese release, Limited Edition Sealed 45
Evangelion Finally too long, see discogs page :) Sealed 70
Anamanaguchi – Miku Teal Sealed 28
bôa – Duvet - Booklet opened, vinyl unplayed 380
Yakushimaru - Unknown World Map - New 20
Mori Calliope – Your Mori. - New 300
Mori Calliope – Unalive - Sealed 105
Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon The 30th Anniversary Memorial Album Pink Translucent with sticker Sealed 65
Grave Of The Fireflies Soundtrack Collection Reissue Sealed, 2 corners damaged 20
Tsukihime -A Piece Of Blue Glass Moon- Theme Song E.P. - New 30
Heart Of The Woods Original Soundtrack Green Translucent & Clear New 38
Needy Girl Overdose Soundtrack Purple Translucent New, Sealed? -
Ado – Kyōgen - Sealed 270
Twinkle Heart OVA Soundtrack - used 35
Roujin-Z - like new, unplayed 35
My Neighbor Totoro - bent corner, unplayed 30
Petshop Of Horrors like new, unplayed 25
The Girl Who Leapt Through Time - like new, unplayed 35
Demon City Shinjuku Purple marbled like new, unplayed 16
Oshi no Ko - new 45
3x3 Eyes: Legend Of The Divine Demon Blue w/ Brown like new, unplayed 15
Weathering With You Reissue like new, unplayed -
Your Name Reissue, Clear like new, unplayed -
Suzume Limited Edition? like new, unplayed -
Bocchi the Rock / Kessoku Band - Sealed 60

submitted by YelloHD to ANIMEvinyl [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 01:49 Mrmander20 [Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms] 4 C7.1: The Elephant in the Room

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
“Should I be worried?”
Why would you be worried?” Kim said. “Dean Lichman loves us.”
Dean Lichman had asked the two of them to stop by his office, though his brief message had not said what for. That left Vell to concoct nightmare scenarios in his head.
“He doesn’t love all of us.”
“Alex doesn’t count as ‘us’,” Kim said. She was a looper in purely a technical sense, mostly due to her own refusal to be a team player. “Besides, she’s been behaving lately. She’s only been an asshole, not an active liability.”
“That we know of.”
“If we don’t know about it, Dean probably doesn’t either,” Kim said. “It’s fine, Vell, he probably just wants to ask us for advice or deal with some problem he has.”
“That’s not much better,” Vell said. “How weird would things have to be that the Dean is asking us for help personally?”
“Only one way to find out,” Kim said. She gestured to the door to the Dean’s office.
Kim entered first, and found it in much the same state as it always was. The desk piled high with paperwork, a small bowl of assorted candies shoved into the corner of the desk, and Dean Lichman behind it, frantically tapping away on a laptop. Vell had not been in this office for several years, and it was vastly different than the last time he’d been here.
“Ah, there you are, come in, have a seat,” Dean Lichman said. “Unless you’d rather we have our conversation elsewhere, Vell.”
“Why would I want that?”
“Well, it’s my understanding you haven’t been in this office since my, uh, predecessor,” Dean Lichman said.
“Oh, right, the kidnapping,” Vell said. “No, I’m good, I don’t really get traumatized by things anymore.”
Vell had been killed too many different ways in too many different places to have a functional trauma response. A few days ago he’d gotten his legs chewed off by a vending machine, and still stopped by it to pick up a soda on his way to the office.
“That’s a very concerning response, Mr. Harlan.”
“Yeah. Anyway, what did you need?”
Dean Lichman gestured for the duo to take a seat, and both did so. He folded desiccated hands in front of himself before beginning to speak.
“I would like to ask you two to take a look at an experiment that will be occurring later this week,” Dean Lichman said. “I don’t have any reason to believe it poses a threat, but I would like to be assured it is a safe and ethical environment, and, well, you two have a knack for identifying trouble spots.”
“You could say that,” Kim said. It was more accurate to say that trouble had a way of identifying them -and then leaping at them and ripping their heads off.
“I’d appreciate it if the two of you could simply examine the laboratory and give it your approval, or disapproval, as the case may be,” Dean Lichman said. “Though if you’re too busy, I fully understand.”
“If you don’t think this is dangerous, why are you asking for our help anyway?”
“Simply for my own peace of mind, frankly,” Dean Lichman said. “The school’s policies on animal experimentation are...satisfactory, I suppose, but I do want to take extra precautions when the subject is a creature as smart as an elephant.”
“An elephant?”
“Yes, a resident of a reserve in Thailand,” Dean Lichman said. “An older elephant by the name of Mae Noi. She has cancer, apparently, and she is submitting to experimental treatment in the hopes it will be useful for younger elephants.”
Kim’s digital face briefly flashed with a facial expression of concerned skepticism.
“‘She’ is submitting to treatment? As in the elephant?”
“Yes. Apparently the elephant can talk,” Dean Lichman said. “No, I don’t know how it works, they said it was ‘more impressive in person’.”
“Well now I kind of want to go just to see the talking elephant,” Vell said.
“Same.”
“Well, do try to take a few glances at the experiment’s safety while you’re there,” Dean Lichman said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Vell said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’ll be there too,” Kim said.
“Excellent. Thank you both, and I’ll try not to take up too much of your time,” the Dean said. He then bid them both a polite goodbye and returned to his mountains of paperwork. Vell took a step out of the office and then took a sip from the soda he’d recently retrieved from the evil vending machine.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think I really do want to see the talking elephant,” Kim said.
“Obviously, yeah, we all want to see the talking elephant,” Vell said. “I mean the whole situation. You think the elephant thing is going to be the daily apocalypse for that day?”
“Well, on the one hand, an elephant seems like the kind of thing that would kill us,” Kim said. “But on the other, I feel like the fact we have advance warning means it’s not going to happen.”
“True. The universe probably wouldn’t make it that easy for us.”
“Yeah, but the elephant thing still feels pretty threatening,” Kim said. “Only way to find out is to wait a few days, I guess.”
A FEW DAYS LATER
“Hello you two,” Dean Lichman said. “And Hawke.”
“Hey,” Hawke said.
“He also wanted to see the talking elephant,” Kim explained.
“Well, that’s not a problem, it was an open invitation,” Dean Lichman said.
“Thanks. Still, sorry for not saying I was going to show up in advance,” Hawke said. “It took me a long time to make up my mind whether I was more interested in or afraid of a talking elephant.”
“They are rather large, aren’t they? I suppose that could be intimidating.”
“I’m okay with elephants on their own, it’s the talking part that doesn’t sit right with me,” Hawke said. “What if the elephant doesn’t like me? What if I’m the first person to ever get insulted by an elephant?”
“You’re less afraid of getting trampled by an elephant than insulted by one?”
“I’m a little afraid of trampling, but elephants are chill,” Hawke explained. “They wouldn’t attack unless provoked. I kind of feel like one might call me a dipshit unprovoked, though.”
“You have oddly specifics fears, Mr. Hughes,” Dean Lichman said.
“Yeah.”
In spite of those fears, Hawke happily stepped through the door to the zoology lab. It did not take a long time to locate the elephant in the room, as it was a literal elephant. The towering pachyderm was in a makeshift pen in the center of the lab, with an ample supply of food and a strange pedestal in front of her.
“Dr. Chanthara,” Dean Lichman said, with a polite wave to one of the researchers in the room. “Good to see you. These are the students I told you about.”
“Hm. Nice to meet you,” Dr. Chanthara said. He was, perhaps not unreasonably, skeptical of why three seemingly random students were in charge of a safety inspection. The fact that one of the three was a robot made him even more skeptical.
“Hi, nice to meet you too, and, uh, don’t mind us,” Vell said. “We just have an eye for weird things other people might miss.”
“Sure. I- wait. Aren’t you that kid who got chosen by a god?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Vell said. “And her too, technically.”
Kim shrugged. She didn’t care for any extra attention on that point.
“Right,” Chanthara said. He was beginning to see why these students might know their stuff. “I suppose we should start by introducing you to Mae Noi. Say hello, Mae.”
The elephant shifted on her feet and poked her trunk at the wide pedestal in front of her twice.
“Hello. Friends,” a synthesized voice droned. Vell stepped a little closer to the pedestal, just enough to see that there were an array of buttons on the side facing Mae Noi.
“Oh, it’s kind of like a keyboard,” Vell said. He’d seen similar things used with dogs, though usually in a much simpler fashion. Mae Noi seemed to have a few dozen buttons at her disposal.
“Smart,” Mae Noi said, with another prod of her trunk.
“We initially put it into our sanctuary as a bit of a novelty, something elephants could choose to interact with,” Dr. Chanthara explained. “Mae Noi took to it a bit better than most. Especially once she found out she could use it to ask for food.”
“Food. Pumpkin. Pumpkin. Pumpkin.”
“No, Mae, no food until after experiment,” Dr. Chanthara scolded.
“Experiment,” Mae Niko said with a prod. “Pumpkin.”
“Yes, experiment then pumpkin,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“That’s not really a talking elephant, is it?” Hawke said.
“It’s more talking than most elephants,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“Elephant. Smart,” Mae Niko said. “Smart.”
“Yes, uh, right, elephant smart,” Hawke said. He took a step back, to avoid any further offense and any further risk of being insulted by Mae Noi.
“You’re very impressive, Mae, don’t mind him,” Kim said. “How many words does she know?”
“Our platform back home has around three hundred words, though she’s still learning some of them,” Dr. Chanthara said. “The ‘travel’ version we put together only has a hundred, just enough to make sure she can get her basic needs met and communicate about the experiment.”
“Right, speaking of, I do believe we should put some time into our reason for being here,” Dean Lichman interjected. “You’re welcome to stick around afterwards, at Dr. Chanthara and Mae Noi’s discretion, of course, but we should get underway.”
“We probably should get to business, yeah,” Kim said. She tapped the side of her metal head. “I’m going to scan the lab. Vell, you talk to the elephant and make sure everything’s above-board.”
“Abov- oh, right,” Vell said. “Sorry, not exactly used to being able to ask animals if they agree to animal experimentation.”
“Experiment,” Mae said.
“Yeah, experiment,” Vell said, as he turned to Mae. “So, Mae Noi, this experiment might hurt, do you know that?”
“Experiment. Hurt. Elephant,” Mae Noi prodded. “Experiment. Help. Elephant. Help. Baby.”
“Help baby?”
“Baby. Baby. Elephant. Sick. Baby. Sick.”
“We’ve explained the nature of her condition to Mae Noi as best we can,” Dr. Chanthara said. “She has several children, and is concerned they might be similarly affected.”
“Help. Baby,” Mae Noi said. “Experiment. Help.”
The way Mae Noi frantically tapped the buttons tugged at Vell’s heartstrings, but he choked those emotions down.
“So you want to do this experiment to help baby, got it,” Vell said. “Even if it hurts you?”
“Elephant. Old,” Mae Noi said. “Hurt. Okay. Help. Baby.”
“Huh. Well, that does sound like informed consent to me,” Vell said. “Passes ethical muster, at least.”
The campus rules allowed students to be experimented on, with their consent, so Vell saw no reason not to apply the same standard to an elephant.
“You speak up if you change your mind about the experiment, okay?”
“Stop. Stop. Stop,” Mae said, mashing the same button a few times. “Yes.”
“You got it. I’m going to go help my friends check things out,” Vell said. “Good talking to you, Mae.”
“Good. Talk. Friend,” Mae said. She waved goodbye with her trunk, and Vell waved back. He wandered away from Mae Noi’s pedestal and found Kim and Hawke carefully examining rows of beakers and various other supplies.
“Nothing sus yet, boss,” Hawke said.
“Nothing caustic, mutagenic, or explosive?”
“Well, something mutagenic, but it’s supposed to be,” Kim said. She had scanners built into her body much like those that had once been in Vell’s glasses, allowing her to analyze the complex chemical formulas at a glance. “They’re going for some gene editing similar to what we’ve tried to do on human cancer patients. Low success rate, but not harmful. Some adaptations to work on elephants, of course.”
“Run it by any of our chemistry and biology student friends yet?”
“A few,” Kim said. “Haven’t gotten anything back yet, though.”
“Maybe run it by Skye, too,” Vell said. “She’d recognize anything that’d mutate an animal.”
“She does love to mutate things,” Kim said.
“Benevolently,” Vell insisted. “Just show her. I’m going to check for any stray equipment.”
The presence of an unusually large test subject had resulted in the lab being rearranged and reshuffled, so Vell did a quick scan for any misplaced equipment that might pose a threat. He found, to his surprise, a tidy and well-organized environment, with any and all extraneous materials securely locked away. There wasn’t so much as a shrink ray out of place. Vell did another loop just to be sure, but returned to his friends empty-handed.
“This place has less safety hazards than my lab,” Vell said. Hawke stared at him for a while.
“Why does your lab have safety hazards?’
“I do runecarving, there’s like, hammers and chisels,” Vell said. “Those can hurt people.”
“Mm, true,” Hawke said. “So you really didn’t find anything?”
“Nothing,” Vell said. “This place is secure as I’ve ever seen a lab be.”
“It’s like I said,” Kim began. “We got an actual warning about it, so obviously nothing’s going to go wrong. That’d be too easy.”
“Maybe,” Vell said. “Things can get teleported in, or someone could cast a spell, or something.”
“Yeah, but that applies to anywhere, at any time,” Kim said.
“Kim’s right,” Hawke said. “I say we go business as usual.”
“I guess,” Vell said. “We have to branch out a little, at least. Can’t keep an eye on one room all day.”
The trio stopped sulking around the outskirts of the lab and returned to Dean Lichman and Dr. Chanthara.
“Everything looks good,” Kim said. “Probably the safest lab I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” Dr. Chanthara said.
“We have very high safety standards here at the Einstein-Odinson,” Dean Lichman said, defensively. “Relatively speaking. Innovation requires some risk.”
“I understand perfectly. So does Mae.”
“Hurt. Okay,” Mae said.
“Not that okay,” Vell said. “Nice meeting you, Dr. Chanthara. You too, Mae.”
“Wait.”
Mae prodded one of the buttons on her pedestal and then pointed her trunk at the three of them. Hawke looked deeply concerned, but stepped forward alongside Vell and Kim. Mae Noi appraised them with massive brown eyes, and then moved her trunk back towards the pedestal. Vell noticed a distinctive scar on the bridge of her long nose just as Mae Noi pressed another button.
“Joke.”
“...Joke?”
Dr. Chanthara sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Just go along with it,” he said. “She likes to tell her joke.”
“Uh, okay,” Vell said. “Let’s hear it.”
“What. Elephant. Favorite. Part. Tree.”
“Umm...I don’t know, Mae,” Vell lied. He’d heard this joke from a kid, once. “What part?”
“Trunk,” Mae said. She gave a loud bray of amusement and then slammed her trunk down a few more times to emphasize the punchline. “Trunk. Trunk.”
“Oh, ha, I get it,” Kim said, hoping her feigned laugh was convincing. She’d never tried to lie to an elephant before. “Good one, Mae.”
Mae Noi shifted from side to side, looking pleased with herself, while the trio took a step back and stopped their feigned laughter.
“Did you give her buttons just to tell that joke with?”
“She gets upset,” Dr. Chanthara said. “I’m not even sure she understands the pun, she just likes people’s reactions.”
“As long as she’s having fun,” Hawke said.
“We’ll get out of your hair now,” Vell said. “Good luck with the experiment, feel free to let us know if you need a hand with anything.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Dr. Chanthara said. Some of his earlier skepticism seemed to have softened, but he did not seem entirely onboard with three strangers mucking about with his experiment. Vell and his friends left before they stretched what little goodwill they had any further. Mae Noi waved her trunk goodbye as the three left the lab and stepped back onto the quad.
“I’m going to try and sneak some classes in,” Hawke said. “Later.”
“I’ll check some of our usual hot spots,” Kim said, before she too left. Once again alone, Vell headed to one of his own classes, and called up Samson.
“Hey, Samson,” Vell began. “See anything interesting while we were playing with the elephant?”
“Well, I thought I clocked someone acting suspicious, but it turns out he was only sneaking around to go see his boyfriend,” Samson said. “Nothing apocalyptic, but I did get called a homophobe, which is pretty emotionally devastating.”
“I’m sure you’ll recover someday,” Vell said. “Keep an eye out. Usually the safer things look, the more dangerous things end up being.”
“Will do,” Samson said, before saying goodbye and hanging up.
***
Vell got increasingly nervous the longer the day went without its daily disaster. He thought about checking in on Mae Noi again, but then recalled Kim’s warning about it being too obvious, but then remembered that nobody had seen anything suspicious anywhere else, but then remember that Mae Noi’s lab had looked perfectly safe-
“Vell.”
“Huh?”
“You’re spiraling,” Kim said.
“I’m not spiraling, I’m just,” Vell said, with a pause for contemplation. “Considering multiple options.”
“In a spiral fashion,” Kim said. “Eat the damn french fries. Honestly, what’s the point of ordering so many if you’re just going to let them get cold?”
“It’s not like they’re going to go to waste,” Vell said. The same time loop that allowed him to eat massive amounts of french fries without fear of gaining weight also allowed him to avoid food waste. One of the upsides of life in a time loop.
“Just eat, Vell,” Kim said. “You worry too much about all this shit.”
“I’m in charge, it’s my job to worry about it,” Vell said.
“It’s your job to handle it,” Kim said. “There’s no point thinking about this shit before it happens, you spend all day thinking about an elephant and then the universe drops, like, a bat with tentacles on your head. Just deal with as it comes, Vell.”
Vell leaned on the table and managed to chomp down on a french fry or two.
“You know, next year, when I’m not running the show anymore, I’m going to call and see if you still think it’s that easy.”
“I sure hope so,” Kim said. “I’m saying all this shit trying to make myself believe it too.”
“Oh good, you’re lying to both of us,” Vell said. “That’s cool.”
“Fake it ‘til you make it, Vell, that’s how it goes,” Kim said. “Eat your damn french fries.”
Vell rolled his eyes and returned to his fries, which were now starting to cool. Thankfully he would not have to worry about finishing them. A loud crash from across campus interrupted him mid-bite and nearly made Vell choke on his fries. He painfully swallowed the half-chewed food and then looked over his shoulder.
“Son of a bitch, finally,” Vell said. A few years ago he’d found it weird whenever he was relieved about a disaster, but now he was just genuinely glad to get it over with. The waiting was as killer as the apocalypse. He tossed his fries in the trash and headed toward the sound of chaos, with Kim right behind him.
“Already told everybody?”
“Well, I may or may not have left Alex and Helena out of the loop…”
“Kim.”
“They’d find out anyway,” Kim said. “I got to use my brain parts to get in touch with them, even over wi-fi that shit feels dirty.”
“Just get in- stop.”
Vell held out his hand. Kim froze in place and did not move. Not intentionally, at least. There was a small amount of unintentional movement. The ground was vibrating.
“Always love a good earthquake,” Kim said.
“That’s not a quake,” Vell said. “That’s...footsteps!”
Vell grabbed Kim and dove out of the way just in time for something to barrel through the walls of the dining hall and stampede across the room. Tables, chairs, and more than a few students were crushed under the feet of a hulking, brown-furred behemoth as it charged. Kim picked herself and Vell up off the floor and tried to trail its progress.
“That’s a- oh fuck me,” Kim said. “Please don’t say you told me so.”
Vell got his bearings and looked across the room at the titanic form of a woolly mammoth. Though it was definitely recognizable as an archaic mammoth, the ancient creature was also heavily mutated, unnaturally large even by mammoth standards, and with multiple curled, jagged tusks protruding from a slobbering maw.
“Well that could be unrelated,” Vell said. “Mammoths can come from a lot of places, cloning accidents, time machines…”
The mammoth reached a wall, and rather than barreling through, turned around, facing directly towards Vell. A prominent scar covered the bridge of its broad trunk.
“Oh, nope, that’s definitely Mae,” Vell said. The scar was in the same place and at the same angle. Even a clone wouldn’t have an identical scar.
Once the revelation had struck, Mae took her turn. Vell found himself staring straight down the barrel of a very angry mammoth coming right at him at Vell-squishing velocity. Luckily he’d been charged at by a lot of creatures over four years of looping.
Vell jumped up and to the side, and latched on to one of the curled tusks, which made for very convenient handlebars. Kim did the same on the opposite side of Mae, and punched her in the head.
“Wait, wait, hold off on the violence for a second,” Vell shouted. He tried to wave at Kim to stop, but Mae was thrashing so violently he had to grip the tusks with both hands.
“Good plan,” Kim shouted. “Can you get Mae on board?”
Another set of tables got crushed underfoot. Thankfully the other students were out of trampling range by now, but Mae Noi’s feet were still coated in the blood of earlier victims.
“Mae’s smart, maybe we can calm her down,” Vell said. He then ducked to dodge a swat from Mae’s mutated trunk.
“Call me crazy, Vell, but I think this is more than just a bad mood,” Kim said, as she climbed up Mae’s seven jagged tusks like a ladder.
“We have to try,” Vell said. The loopers rule against hurting other intelligent life forms had some flexibility for blood-crazed mutants on violent rampages, but they had to at least try to reason first. Vell climbed up on of Mae’s tusks and looked into one of her bloodshot eyes for any sign of recognition. “Mae! It’s Vell, do you remember?”
The only response Vell got was an enraged trumpet, which he didn’t think was a “yes”.
“Come on, bud,” Vell said. “What’s an elephant’s favorite part of a tree, right? The trunk?”
The massive brown eye staring at Vell blinked, and he felt a brief glimmer of hope. He then felt a brief glimmer of his lungs being crushed as Mae swung her head and slammed her tusks into the wall, and Vell along with them. Kim punched Mae in the throat and then jumped across the tusks to grab Vell and carry him to safety.
“You okay, Vell?”
He opened his mouth to respond, and a pint or two of blood came out instead.
“Apparently not,” he mumbled. “I might be down a few ribs. And a lung. Or two.”
Kim carried Vell a safe distance from the fight and set him down on the ground, where he promptly spat out another mouthful of blood.
“Okay, uh, you just lie there and try to die peacefully, I guess,” Kim said.
“Way ahead of you.”
***
“Was that last bit as funny as I thought it was?” Vell asked. “I think the blood loss was affecting my sense of humor.”
“It was kind of hard to appreciate in the moment,” Kim said. “But as far as dying jokes go, it was pretty good.”
Vell and Kim walked into the lair for their morning meeting and joined the loopers that had already gathered.
“Okay, what’d I miss while I was dead?”
“Well, after Alex was done getting herself killed,” Samson began.
“You’re saying that as if it’s something to be ashamed of,” Alex said. “Vell also died.”
“Yeah, but he got killed trying to do something good. You got killed trying to do something stupid.”
“Trying to eliminate a threat is not stupid,” Alex said.
“We don’t kill intelligent creatures,” Hawke said. “Sometimes we punch them into a coma, but we don’t kill them.”
“When a dog bites, you put it down, I don’t see why the same principle doesn’t apply to a mammoth that’s crushed seventy people.”
“That wasn’t Mae’s fault,” Vell said. “She got mutated, or something. On that note: did you guys figure out what happened to Mae Noi?”
“Nothing,” Hawke said. “Looked like Mae smashed up the entire lab, trampled everyone involved in the experiment too. Nothing left to investigate, and nobody left alive to interrogate.”
“Typical,” Vell sighed. “At least we have an easy out. Dean Lichman was really concerned about the ethics of that whole experiment. We raise some kind of complaint, we could probably get the whole thing shut down.”
“The problem is getting the complaint,” Hawke said. “That lab was airtight, Vell.”
“Apparently not completely airtight,” Kim said. “I can camp out in the lab and raise an entirely justifiable stink whenever something capable of making a murder-mammoth shows up.”
“And what if it happens so suddenly you can’t complain about it?” Samson asked. “For all we know that could’ve been some kind of dimensional rift, or time anomaly, or something. It might not be as simple as somebody just putting in the wrong syringe at the wrong time.”
“He’s got a point,” Vell said. “We might want to shut this down before it gets there.”
“Seems like our best option is to plant evidence, then,” Alex said.
Everyone else at the table spent a few seconds brainstorming ways to prove her wrong, and much to their frustration, could not.
“Okay, fine,” Vell said. “But it needs to be something incidental, not something anyone would get blamed for. We want to cancel the experiment, not get anyone in trouble.”
“I could have a seizure on some sensitive equipment,” Helena offered. “It’ll break something and nobody would dare get mad at me.”
“Can you fake a seizure?”
“No, but I’m allergic to elephants, so I’d probably have one anyway the moment I stepped in the lab,” Helena said.
“I don’t feel entirely comfortable sending you into anaphylactic shock for a bit,” Vell said.
“Offer’s on the table,” Helena said. “I’ll live. Wouldn’t have made it through that trip to the zoo otherwise.”
“Anybody have any non-medical emergency suggestions?”
“Seagull in the air vents,” Kim said.
“Will that work?”
“It happens now and then,” Kim said. “Seagull gets in, and Dean has to close down the whole lab for potential material damage and biohazard risks if they shit in the vents.”
“Really? We’ve never had to deal with anything like that,” Hawke said.
“It may shock you to learn that sometimes minor, tedious bullshit happens that we have nothing to do with,” Kim said.
“That is kind of surprising, actually.”
“Enough. Kim, can you grab a seagull?” Vell asked. He shouldered his bookbag, and stuck a hand into the extradimensional pocket that existed within it. “I can probably smuggle it in with my bag.”
“Yeah, I can get you a seagull,” Kim said. Since she did not need to sleep, she had to find ways to keep herself entertained at night, seagull-grabbing being among them.
“Alright, we’ll go grab one and put it in the bag,” Vell said. “The rest of you, be ready to meet us when I call.”
***
Roughly three minutes later, Vell put out the call and they reconvened in front of the biology lab.
“Yeah, that was much faster than I thought it would be,” Vell said.
“I’m great at grabbin’ birds,” Kim said. Seagulls were among the easier birds to snatch, even. They were suckers for food, and many of them were attracted to her shiny metallic body anyway.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Vell said. “I want this thing out of my bag ASAP.”
Even though the seagull was safely within a pocket dimension, Vell would swear he could still feel the bird thrashing and squawking inside his bag. He tightened his grip on the shoulder strap and led the way towards the zoology lab entrance. He grabbed the handle and held it as he froze for a second.
“Vell, what’s up? Is this bird escaping?”
“No, the handle’s vibrating,” Vell said. It was shaking the same way a wall near an incredibly loud speaker might. He pressed his ear to the door and listened closely. He opened the door immediately, and let all his friends hear the frantic trumpeting of a panicked elephant.
Inside the lab, Mae Noi was stomping her feet and trumpeting as loud as he long trunk would allow. She swayed from side to side in her pen, bumping against the walls not quite hard enough to damage them, but hard enough that it was clear she was doing it on purpose.
“What the heck is happening here?”
“Ah, Vell,” Dean Lichman said. He hustled over to Vell’s side and gestured to the entire room. “Maybe you can figure out what’s going on.”
Mae Noi stopped braying long enough to start mashing her trunk against her pedestal, mashing out the word “Bad” over and over again.
“Our test subject, Mae Noi, has been throwing an absolute fit ever since she got here,” Dean Lichman said. “Dr. Chanthara, these are the students I was telling you about earlier.”
While Vell reintroduced himself to Dr. Chanthara, Kim and Hawke stepped up to examine Mae Noi and her enclosure. It was a far cry from the peaceful, orderly scene they had examined on the first loop. They were half an hour earlier this time than before, but Kim found it unlikely that they had been able to calm Mae Noi down, clean everything up, and get back to work in such a short amount of time. They hadn’t mentioned any of this panic on the first loop either. They were soon joined in their confusion by Chanthara and Vell.
“We’ve tried everything; food, water, her favorite toys, even videos of her children,” Dr. Chanthara said. “We’ve even offered to call off the experiment, but she won’t listen.”
“She is an animal,” Alex said. “Sometimes they do things arbitrarily.”
“Not Mae,” Dr. Chanthara said. “Some of our sanctuaries residents from traumatic backgrounds can have outbursts, but Mae was injured in the wild. She’s never been like this.”
“Maybe some experiment on the island is upsetting her,” Vell said. “A sonic experiment only she can hear, or something…”
Vell stopped and thought about it. If there had been such an irritant, it would’ve been there on the first loop too. Everything always repeated exactly the same, except for-
“Could you, uh, take a step back for a second?” Vell mumbled. “I want to try talking to her.”
“Don’t get close,” Chanthara warned him.
“I’m not, I’m not,” Vell said. He didn’t need to get very close to tell a joke.
The massive brown eyes of Mae Noi stayed locked on Vell as he approached, and she continued to mash the “Bad” button on her pedestal.
“I know, I know, bad,” Vell said. “But, uh, do you want to hear a joke?”
Mae Noi stopped. She locked eyes with Vell for a few seconds, and then cautiously tapped a button on her pedestal.
“Joke.”
“Right, joke,” Vell said. He tried to recall the exact sequence of words Mae had used on the first loop. “What elephant favorite part tree?”
Mae didn’t blink.
“Trunk,” Vell said.
After a moment of contemplation, Mae Noi let out one final, fervent, trumpet, and then started mashing buttons on her pedestal again.
“Bad. Help. Help. Experiment. Bad. Help. Bad. Help.”
“Yeah, bad help, one second,” Vell said. He turned away from Mae Noi to look at Dean Lichman. “Hey, uh, excuse me, Dean? Hey, uh, if I remember correctly there are some pretty complicated rules on having intelligent animals on campus, yes?”
“Well, yes,” Dean Lichman said. After hearing of some questionable ethical practices involving an octopus back in first year, he had instituted a few clauses into the school’s ethical code of conduct regarding intelligent animals like elephants, octopuses, and dolphins. “Mae’s presence here is a bit of an outlier, but there were workaround, given her apparent consent to the experiment.”
“Yeah, about that, is she, uh,” Vell began. “Is she registered as a student?”
“Yes.”
Vell pursed his lips. It took a few seconds for his friends to catch on.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Samson snapped. He turned his back on the crowd and leaned against a wall while Hawke put his head in his hands.
“The first rule of looping,” Alex said quietly. “Loopers are randomly selected-”
She looked up and locked eyes with Mae Noi.
“From all registered students.”

submitted by Mrmander20 to redditserials [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 01:45 Obsequium_Minaris The Problems With Humanity Chapter 2 - Crime and Punishment

First / Patreon (Read 5 Chapters Ahead)

AKA: Ain’t Nothing but a Horndog
–
Private Owens let out another tired sigh as he sat there, his head held in his hands. After the incident with Petra, he’d been forcibly confined to his room, pending further disciplinary action. It didn’t take a genius to figure out exactly how he was going to be disciplined; at best, he figured he’d be getting a court martial. At worst, they’d probably just throw him out the airlock or something.
Harsh, to be sure, but if he’d actually succeeded in inadvertently costing humanity their spot as a central player on the galactic stage, then no punishment was truly out of the question. Hell, Major Barnes had talked about having him drawn and quartered, and if he truly had fucked up that monumentally bad, then it wasn’t even out of the question.
“Way to go, idiot…” Owens muttered to himself. “All this because you couldn’t stay away from the booze or keep it in your pants for a night…”
He let out yet another sigh of despondency, bringing a hand up to brush through his auburn-colored hair. He’d just had it cut short, which was a good thing, because it meant that he’d actually look presentable at his soon-to-be funeral.
Assuming Major Barnes let him keep his head, of course.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the door to his quarters opened. Owens looked up, and was not surprised to see Major Barnes and Captain Johnson standing there. Somehow, they looked even more imposing than usual, which was odd given that Major Barnes was from Texas and built like the bulls he used to ride, while Captain Johnson was a former MMA fighter.
That was to say that if there were any two people the higher-ups would have sent to beat him to death with their bare hands, it’d be these two, to say nothing of the fact that they’d probably outright requested it given what he’d done.
Assuming they weren’t about to lead him to Captain Ulfur or something, of course. Couldn’t exactly discount that as a possibility, either.
“Alright, on your feet,” Major Barnes announced.
Private Owens blinked. “Sir?”
“I said, on your feet. Are you going to make me repeat myself again?”
“N-no, Sir.” Owens scrambled to his feet. He stood there at attention, doing his best not to start sweating bullets as Major Barnes leaned in to examine him, one hand on his chin.
“Hm…”
“Sir?”
The two of them locked eyes, Barnes’ set of brown staring into Owens’ green. And despite his best efforts, Owens couldn’t help but begin sweating then and there. Captain Johnson shifted a bit out of the corner of his eye, but Owens didn’t dare look over to him; experience had taught him that, much like a T-Rex, the Major’s vision was based on movement. This wasn’t to imply that he could only see things when they moved, but rather that moving was a good way to draw attention to oneself, in the same way that the squeaky wheel tended to get the grease.
To put it simply: predators enjoy it greatly when their prey tries to struggle. And at this moment in time, Owens was nothing if not the juiciest piece of prey available to his commanding officers on the whole station.
The seconds ticked by. Owens dared not count them, both because he didn’t want to press his luck and because he dreaded finding out how short eternity actually was. Finally, after those few agonizingly slow seconds passed, Major Barnes took a step back and let his hand fall from his chin, then clasped his arms behind his back.
“You have no idea how fucking lucky you are, Marine.”
Owens stiffened. “Sir?”
Major Barnes let out a tired sigh, then turned to Captain Johnson. “Smoking is still banned on this station, right?”
“It is outside of the dedicated smoking zones,” Johnson replied. “It upsets the Vuks’ sense of smell.”
“Damn… what about drinking?”
“Allowable outside of working hours, but I’d like to remind you that alcohol is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
“Ah, yes.” Major Barnes turned back towards Owens, his eyes narrowing. “Now, Private – perhaps you’d care to answer a question for me?”
“O-of course, Sir,” Owens stammered out.
“What in the hell made you think Jack Daniels was your friend?”
Owens felt a chill go down his spine. “Uh, Sir?”
“Stop phrasing my title like a question, please. Answer the question.”
Owens hesitated. Thankfully, Captain Johnson came to his rescue.
“Actually, if I remember right, the bartender said he was ordering Captain Morgan and tequila.”
Barnes let out a low whistle. “Damn, for real? What were you thinking, Private? You know rum and tequila don’t mix.”
“Apparently, he hasn’t heard how racist Captain Morgan is – everyone knows the Captain hates Mexicans.”
“U-um…” Private Owens said. “...Is this you both smoking me out?”
“Of course not, Private,” Major Barnes instantly replied. “After all, we’re not in a smoking area, remember?”
Private Owens wasn’t sure if the Major was trying to be dangerously sarcastic or if that was a genuine attempt at levity. In either case, he thought it best to stay silent. Finally, after a few more seconds had passed, Major Barnes shook his head.
“I mentioned earlier that you were lucky,” he said. “Hell, you’re probably the luckiest man alive. Possibly the luckiest man in history. Do you know why that is?”
“Because I’m not dead yet?”
“Partially, but no. No, you’re the luckiest man alive because, in spite of you making a drunken ass of yourself and banging their head diplomat, the Vuk voted to allow us into the Council, after all.”
Private Owens couldn’t help but sputter in surprise at that news. He took a moment to recover, then turned back towards the Major, surprise etched across his face. “You’re serious?” After a moment, he added, “Sir?”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” Major Barnes confirmed with a nod. “See how lucky you are, Private? Not only did you get laid, but you also somehow didn’t completely fuck everything up for our entire species, which means that I very unfortunately don’t get to space you.”
Private Owens hesitated. Next to him, Captain Johnson crossed his arms. “Breathe, Private. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Owens did as he was told, sucking in a deep breath of air before exhaling it. Once he had taken a breath to calm himself, he opened his eyes again, once more staring at Major Barnes.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, Sir… what happens now?”
“Good question,” Barnes replied. “Well, given that you might have actually done all of humanity a huge solid by sleeping with Petra, there’s not really much I can do to actually punish you. I mean, I could, but that’d reflect pretty badly on me, and if there’s one thing I care about, it’s my service record.”
“Immaculate service record,” Captain Johnson amended. “Downright radiant, really.”
“Exactly. And it’d really suck to mar it by having to write a young Marine for something like this, especially since it’s very possible that the only reason Petra voted yes was because the sex was so good.”
Private Barnes flushed red. “U-um… thanks, Sir. I think.”
“Don’t be so modest, Private – you know women talk. Well, word’s apparently gotten around, and now a fair few of the Vuk women are very curious about how the human mouth works. But that’s neither here nor there; the point is, we’re at a bit of an impasse. I can’t exactly smoke you for this, even though I really want to. But at the same time, I can’t just let you off the hook, either.”
“So… what do you plan to do with me, Sir?”
Major Barnes cracked a wide, wicked-looking grin. A chill went down Owens’ spine at the sight of it.
“Why, it’s simple, Private,” Barnes began, “in this situation, I think it only fitting that I throw you to the wolves… or, in this case, the devil dogs.”
Owens didn’t even have time to beg for mercy before Captain Johnson grabbed him and muscled him out the door, over to the barracks where the rest of his platoon was staying.
–
It wasn’t a surprise to Owens when they opened the door to the barracks and roughly shoved him inside, then closed it back up and locked it. He scrabbled at the door in vain for a moment before pausing and turning around.
His entire platoon was there, because of course they were.
Owens froze at the sight of them. Getting smoked by the Major and the Captain was bad enough, but that was nothing compared to the absolute fucking firestorm that was headed his way from the rest of the platoon. Slowly, he raised a hand.
“Uh, hey, guys,” he offered.
For a moment, nobody said or did anything. It was deathly silent in the barracks. But then, it happened.
Someone started the slow clap.
It began as just one person, but rapidly grew to two, and then three, and then all of a sudden, they were all doing it. And as they clapped, they were shouting at him, or rather, they were chanting – one simple word, which ordinarily wouldn’t have had much meaning, but with the way they were saying it, Owens just knew it was going to haunt him until he was discharged.
And that word was…
“Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog! Horn-Dog!”
Owens cringed as the word reached his ears. Unfortunately, that did nothing to actually block it out, and it only got worse when everyone in the platoon came up, still chanting, and took turns slapping him on the back.
And, naturally, the questions followed shortly thereafter.
“What was it like?”
“Was it as good as she’s making it sound?”
“Are you really that good with your tongue?”
“What’s it like being an actual furry?”
“Guys!” Owens finally blurted out, having had enough. “Look, I’ve… I’ve had a bit of a long day, you know? So can I at least take a seat before you start bombarding me with questions?”
The platoon fell silent at that. Owens breathed a sigh of relief, then began to stride through them; they parted like the Red Sea as he walked.
“Carefully,” one of them said, “he’s a hero.”
Owens flipped that guy off without even looking back. Finally, he reached his bunk and took a seat on it, then breathed a sigh of relief.
And the moment he was settled, the platoon was surrounding him once more, eager for him to answer their questions. Owens took a breath.
“Let me get one thing perfectly straight,” he said, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Dude, come the fuck on,” one of the men, Corporal Ramirez, protested. “You realize that she’s been telling her people about it, right?”
“For real, man,” Sergeant Douglas agreed with a nod. “Some of the Vuk females have been eye-fucking us ever since.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious. Apparently, that tongue do be putting in the work.”
Owens’ brow furrowed. “That’s nasty, dude.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You did it, not me! I’m just reporting some of the shit that’s been happening ever since you fucking gave Lassie the ol’ in-out.”
“First of all, don’t talk about her that way,” Owens warned. “I get that you’re just joking, but she’s still a diplomat, as well as the reason we’re even having this conversation right now. And not in that way!” He hurriedly added when he saw several of the men about to say something. “She was the deciding vote. If it weren’t for her coming through for us, we’d have been fucked.”
Corporal Ramirez hesitated, but only for a moment. “I mean-”
“Dude, don’t.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I am seriously begging you not to say it.”
Ramirez paused, but eventually, his baser instincts won out. “...She definitely did come through for us, and at least one of us was definitely fucked.”
Owens closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before opening them again. “...Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you all what it was like.”
“Dude, come on,” Sergeant Douglas protested. “You’re really gonna do us like this? You’re gonna just fucking Captain Kirk it up and then refuse to talk about it?”
“Yes, I-” Owens paused. “...Captain Kirk?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Hey, you’re the first human to actually fuck an alien, at least as far as anyone knows. It fits.”
“No, no, I’m not complaining, it’s just… I can’t be Shepard?”
“The fuck you talking about? You’re no Shepherd, that’s for sure.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you couldn’t keep the wolf away.” Owens glared at him and Douglas just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Horndog, you’re just teeing these things up for me at this point. I can go all night.”
“Shame he couldn’t,” Ramirez added. “Or did he only stop because he got caught?”
“That’s a fair question, actually. Horndog, be honest – if you hadn’t been caught, would there have been another round?”
“How many rounds were there, anyway?” one of the other Marines asked.
“Do you think she’d have wanted breakfast afterwards?” another added. “Makes me wonder… do you think the Vuk prefer waffles, or pancakes?”
“I dunno, man. They seem pretty partial to creampies, if you ask me.”
“Guys!” Owens shouted, cutting them all off. He grit his teeth for a moment, but then let out another exhale. “...It probably goes without saying, but I am very, very, ridiculously tired right now. I’m very thirsty and I haven’t had anything to eat in a long-ass time.”
Ramirez opened his mouth to say something.
“Ramirez, if you say what I know you’re going to say, I will seriously fucking Code Red you by myself.”
Ramirez closed his mouth and said nothing.
Owens let out yet another exhale. “Look, fellas – let me just get some sleep, and then I’ll tell you as much as I can about it without it being disrespectful to her. Okay?”
“Sure, man, whatever you say,” Douglas offered.
“Thanks, guys.”
With that, Owens laid down in his bunk and closed his eyes, doing his best to enjoy the silence.
It lasted for all of five seconds before someone broke it.
“So, was this technically bestiality?”
Owens threw a blind punch, and just like that, the entire barracks erupted into chaos.

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard, for the help with writing this story.

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2024.05.22 01:33 RedditBoz [HR] Seeking the Holder of the End

submitted by RedditBoz to shortstories [link] [comments]

2024.05.22 01:32 GreatOpportunity2790 What is this?

I noticed a boney kind of bump on the right side of mouth and kind of messed with it, with my tongue as I took this picture I noticed now the red spot in my cheek :/ I’ve had 2 teeth extracted on that side a month ago and my jaw shaved down a week ago I’ve generally haven’t been feeling well and want my mouth to get back to normal

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2024.05.22 01:32 withMIBs "Flay Me To the Moon"

Google showed me the movie title when I searched "flay me." I think it is romantic enough to describe what I feel now and sometimes.
IDK if you know it, but that's how I feel when I encounter your letters or expressions. Silently and swiftly, you attack my left shoulder (always left) vertically with your claws like a bear. It's so shocking that I usually stop my breath, almost choked instantly. I look at the wound, then you. Your eyes are also on my exposed bloody muscles, soft tissues, and tendons for a while, waiting. Then you indifferently move away silently as if you attacked a wrong prey.
I don't feel pain when my skin is peeled in this vision. It feels like being in a vacuum. As you expect, I don't hate it. After you leave, the wound is gone and recovered as if nothing happened. Something did, though. Sooner or later you come back to do the same again and again.
It's interesting since you basically talk about yourself, not even trying to analyze me, when my flesh is flayed off my body. It's not an anatomy attempt.
It's different from the attack years ago when you screamed at me, pushing me into the corner. Maybe you just tried to make yourself understood or your anger heard, but I cried hard and trembled out of fear. We didn't get along, but I wasn't quite sure or tried to refuse what made you so mad.
I think (or hope?) you are the one that tells the truth to others by being yourself. Your thoughts and actions may look selfish and subjective. But no. Your selfish seeking will be universal. People will find themselves in your most inner self. I can't do that, but you can in a comfortable way. That's your gift and our difference.
Maybe that's why you don't want me to anatomize you. It will be just a pain with less gain. I need learn to put myself in it as well, if I want to try.
Recently the different you appear after the "attack." Either too cheerful or too depressed puts ointment to fade my scar. The former sings happy songs, the latter makes dark reflective speeches. I'm happy with your presence on the earth. But I also can't help wonder what will happen or I will see if you make another attack before the wound vanishes.
S.

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2024.05.22 01:17 poppypess Vote Claremont, Emmys Edition

This is late, but my friend and I went to the for-your-consideration event for RWRB. It was a trip.
But it was a work function first. Members of the TV Academy—and their plus-ones, if they received one—gathered in a studio in the sweaty belly button of Hollywood. If you were a normal Angeleno like u/sixfivesteve (the friend), you sat in your car blasting the AC while the valet line bumped forward one car length at a time. If you were from a walking city, you pushed past the slow-moving tourists, hoped the flies circling a mysterious stench didn’t lay eggs on you, and checked in with an attendant who wore a concerning amount of black for someone whose job was to stand in direct sun.
There was a (life-changing) screening of the movie, a panel, and a reception. There was also retail politics. Here’s what happened.

Whoever put together the playlist knew what they were doing

The vibe before the screening was jolly. There was a whole bathroom conversation about 1) therapeutic cannabis, because you’ve gotta, and 2) people everyone has run into.
Ushers handed out mini-servings of popcorn that felt stingy as hell but were probably just nutritionist-recommended serving sizes. Steve grabbed candy and water that came in slightly less environmentally disastrous packaging than the stuff you’d get from most grocery stores.
Whoever put together the playlist had done their homework, by which I mean they’ve spent time on the non-broey part of the internet.
This is where I tell you that the event featured strip club music, by which I mean they played “Pony” by Ginuwine. Before and after the screening. It was as if whoever set up the playlist knew that some attendees’ brains—and bits—might explode, reconstitute themselves, and implode again under stimulus (the movie), work event be damned.

The screening was a case for seeing movies in theaters for the sound. Because…

You could hear the beginning of the blow job.
You could hear the beginning of the blow job.
You could hear the beginning of the blow job.
In the space of about a second, I went from living in a world in which that scene had a lil’ zipper sound to one where the zip was followed by a flat, wet drag. The sound had texture. It almost had temperature.
Y’all, I am forever changed. Always see movies in the theater. Nolan, Tarantino, et al have talked about this. They’re right.
Listen to this man before he teaches you a lesson.
Something else I’d seen but never before heard while watching the movie in home setups: Bea says “no!” when Henry declines Alex’s call in the meeting with Philip, Tommy, and other palace staff. She doesn’t just mouth it.
Her interjection interrupts Philip mid-sentence, who glares at her and says, “As I was saying…”
It’s also just fun to hear the audience’s reactions. Some of the laugh lines:

“You’ve been wanting him to dick you down for years.”
“How many guys have you been with?” “Whoa.”
“He is. 😏” An audience member let out a sound like a hyena choking itself with a belt.
“I’m down.”
“I mean, who says ‘make love’ anymore? Are we gonna listen to Lana del Rey while we do it?” You guys, he said do it. Because I'm twelve.
“The B in LGBTQ is not a silent letter.” Man, politicians’ kids must hear all kinds of pamphlet-speak at home.
“Little lord fuckleroy.” Sarah Shahi is going from lesbian icon to overall queer icon with this role. Zahra/Sarah got massive applause during the end credits.
“We have got to get you a book on English history.”

Somehow no one laughed about Stephen Fry’s pronunciation of homosexual. Hummusseggsual. It’s hummus but it’s also seggs-ual.
Speaking of sexual, the crowd held its breath during the sex scenes.
Emmy voters have watched plenty of sex scenes with their colleagues, but after the bravely-repressing-a-wobble acknowledgement of I owe you an explanation, after ~very bad things~ in Alex's room, after the phrase “make love”—which deserves to be not just roasted but incinerated—the Paris sex scene was…relief? Revel? Revelation?
Look at me trying to talk around the effect the scene (may have) had on the room. People were off-gassing oxytocin. Estradiol. Testosterone. Since it was a work event, the weight and texture of the hush was what you’d get if everyone on a group camping trip was trying to discreetly watch porn. (To paraphrase the dad from Easy A, high-end porn—for governors and athletes, but porn nonetheless.) But I project.

Uma Thurman did an Ariana Huffington laugh during the panel

I laughed and laughed and laughed.
What should I say about the panel? That everyone’s features were somehow both full and sharp enough to thin-slice the cured meat of your choice? That Taylor Zakhar-Perez made a small breeze every time he blinked? That Nicholas Galitzine was a diffident dumpling? That Uma Thurman was an intellect? That Rachel Hilson was lithe and and fresh-faced and ready for any cosmetics campaign you threw at her—which, incidentally, has always described Uma Thurman? That Matthew López was extremely cute? That Greg Berlanti was the dad/uncle some of your friends wanted as a mentor and others had wholesome crushes on? That Sarah Schechter was the friend’s cool older sister made good? That if you put the RWRB cast into an early Almodóvar movie, the result would be credible?
Whatever I can say about the panel, you can get more straightforward coverage and footage of it elsewhere, including this subreddit. (Check out the post from the woman who got so horny from watching the movie that she started going after her husband nonstop.) I did a search on Tumblr for “RWRB FYC panel” for you. You’ll get Galitzine saying “the throes of love.” You’ll get TZP talking about matcha. You’ll get Casey McQuiston—that perfectly cast nonbinary creator-god of the RWRB universe—describing their brush with psychological collapse when TZP tried to have a conversation with them while in costume as Alex Claremont-Diaz. Enjoy.

The campaign trail is paved with selfies

Campaigning for nominations—and eventually, awards—is not so different from running for public office. The panel ended and everyone was set loose on the panelists and the “immersive for-your-consideration experience.” (Sure.)
Getting to the cater waiters to pinch mini-tacos, meh crabcakes, fish and chips with tartar sauce instead of vinegar (why?), and tiny cake cubes was like wading upstream. The crowd was moving in the opposite direction. Why?
…oh.
Galitzine was taking photos with people. Elsewhere in the immersive whositwhatsit, TZP was doing the same thing with a swarm of his own.
https://preview.redd.it/rkp916mxzu1d1.jpg?width=1818&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e01a4cf99ae5163c766e8bc284f219526b450e3a
https://preview.redd.it/hzco2eev4v1d1.png?width=750&format=png&auto=webp&s=922d4d097f214d4bb9a5747de05b76cfe579d23b
I’d thought they were on display during the panel, but no. This was what they were there for. They were there to shake hands, talk shop briefly—with occasional promises to follow up later—and take selfies. The reward for all this would (theoretically) be nominations and votes. This was a campaign stop. On-theme for RWRB. Cue montage of Alex Claremont-Diaz making fundraising calls.
Can you get a charley horse in your face? I bet the actors had them, but that’s campaign life. Forward Together and all that.
Matthew López and the producers wandered the floor. At one point, I heard Casey McQuiston tell a small group about how they didn’t have any particular in with agents or publishers. It often is about flinging yourself out there, whatever you want to do.

A vote for RWRB is a vote for softness (stop reading here to avoid egghead content)

While we’re speaking in campaign terms, who and what is RWRB for? It’s for people who love love. It’s for people who love fun—who are fun, dammit. It’s for people with uomosexual tendencies (uomo = Italian for “man”). It’s for the occasional lucky straight guy. Most of all, it’s a refuge from straight-guy culture.
Here’s what I mean. The two RWRB panels and the Roast of Tom Brady happened in the same week-long time frame. If you’re reading this, you’re almost definitely in the tank with RWRB. The Roast is straight-guy culture cranked up to eleventy billion by comparison.
If we go by the Roast, straight-guy culture looks like big men the color of medium-rare steak yelling dick jokes from the dais—but using the less funny and more aggressive and self-regarding “cock” instead. It looks like Gronk pretending he can’t read and using Kim Kardashian’s genitalia to make a beef pun. It looks like Nikki Glaser, the token straight-woman comedian, being a good sport while the men in attendance called her ugly.
Don’t get me wrong. I watched and laughed. A good dick joke takes skill, and some of them were damn good. I even thought Julian Edelman was hot for 20 minutes. But the tonal difference between the Roast and the RWRB event—to say nothing of RWRB itself—was jarring. Straight-guy masculine culture is so committed to not being soft. Don’t go soft is basically its motto.
Meanwhile, RWRB is about—among other things—softness. Henry Car-Crash-of-Last-Names gives the object of his attraction the up-and-down, but in a way that’s more endearing than objectifying. He doesn’t do the hard stare. He’s all-in on Byron, Austen, Zadie Smith, and…Streisand. Unlike Gronk, Henry can read, and he reads with relish.
So does Alex, of course. The American is sweet and proactive. When he develops feelings for a friend with (many) benefits, he’s matter-of-fact about it and doesn’t get defensive or evade his emotions.
In other words, Alex and Henry’s masculinity is soft. Soft masculinity acknowledges the dimensions of a person beyond how well they can slam into other men (sporty or sexual) or women (sexual). For a lot of people, soft masculinity is a fantasy and a gift.
It can be a gift to anyone. Look at Steve. He finds that version of masculinity intoxicating, even as someone who’s already a winner of the masculinity lottery, at least as defined by large parts of straight-guy culture. He’s white and tall and strong and has hoes (houses), not in every area code—sorry, rappers who talk about that kind of thing—but some good ones. He loves RWRB. Everything about it. (Lest you thirsty beasts start having big thoughts about him, he’s married.)
Steve even inserted himself into the height contest/debate Galitzine and TZP sometimes have for lulz. He had a “you’re wearing lifts” conversation of his own. Not with TZP. With Galitzine, who joked about wearing lifts himself. It was still not enough to top Steve. (How funny would it be if this is when I reveal that Steve is Conan O’Brien? To be clear, he’s not. Besides, Conan O’Brien is sixfourconan.)
— — — —
The next night, while Steve and I were still catatonic from staying up until alarming hours, another panel took place in front of a crowd of people who didn’t need to consider anything about RWRB. They were already real-ass, excited fans who saw Alex and Henry—and for some of them, Galitzine and TZP—as secular saints of cheerful-romantic-triumphant horniness. Avatars of the kinds of guys you could have a crush on in middle- and high school without raising alarms (unless you were a boy being raised by homophobes, in which case I’m sorry).
The audience on that second night got the news of a sequel from Matthew López, who spoke directly to them from the stage. They cheered and whooped and began their vigil for round two. Sí, se puede.

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2024.05.22 01:01 Last_Channel_8657 I think I was followed home last night

I was almost followed into my apartment building last night but I'm not clear what this person's intentions were. I'm a woman in my 20s living in Brooklyn, I'm from NY, and have heard and been warned about walking home alone, but still have never experienced something like being followed, until last night. I was coming home from work and I got off at my regular train stop and started to walk to my apartment which is about 2 avenues from the train. I had both my earbuds in, but I wasn't listening to anything. I start to pass the park that is about a block away from me and I can feel and hear someone behind me, shuffling their feet as they walk. Not a problem, there was plenty of people around, both in the park and on the streets and sidewalks around it. It was about 7:30pm and still light out but the sun was going down. I get to the traffic light at the corner of the park when I notice this person is still behind me. I turned my head to the left slightly so I can see this person in my peripheral vision and I could see they were wearing a brown hoodie and had long brown hair, but still couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. I turned back to the street, crossed when the light changed and made a left, the next block was my street. I wanted to test if this person would pass me or walk in the same direction, so as I made it to my block I abruptly turned right and this person did the same. I'm now on the right side of my street but would have to cross to the left side where my apartment is, so as I was walking straight up my block I really quickly turned left and squeezed through a tiny space between two parked cars to cross the street, and I notice this person speeds up and does the exact same thing in the exact same spot!! This is when my heart started pounding. I started speeding up a little bit and I'm about 4 apartment buildings away from mine, and I hear this person's shuffling feet keeping pace with mine and speed up as I do, and I hear a single manly deep breath behind me. This is where I feel a little dumb, instead of continuing to walk up the street to a cafe or stop and tell someone (there was a few people walking on the sidewalk) I thought, "ok, our front lobby door locks whenever it's closed all the way, and if you don't have a key you can't get in, I'll just get inside there, close the door, and see what happens." So I get to my front 2 steps, jump inside the open lobby door, and immediately turn around and slam it shut. As I do this, this MAN WALKED RIGHT INTO THE DOOR and I come face to face with this man behind the glass. He was maybe in his late 20s to early 30s, light-skinned black man, with long brown almost waist length braids. He looked feminine and was actually quite pretty, but the look on his face was strange, like he was not fully there. His eyes were wide but the rest of his face blank, and he never looked away from me. Now get this, he never opens his mouth to say anything, but instead keeps those wide eyes on mine, holds up both of his hands, in one he's holding his iphone, which has a dead battery symbol on it and in the other hand is an ID, but it doesn't look like him on it. I totally should have read it, maybe it had the address to the same apartment on it, but I didn't even care, I just yelled "NO!" The thing is he readily had the ID in his hand, he didn't go into a pocket or a bag, he just had his hands up and ready to show me. I watched him never change his face, turn to his right and leave. I called my roommate to let her know, and she had a friend walk her home about two hours after I got in, so I wasn't alone for the rest of the night. I wish I took a picture of him with the ID and phone, but I was just weirded out that he tried to step inside right behind me but didn't try to come back in again or say a single word. I thought maybe I dropped my ID and he was returning it, but I checked and mine was in my wallet. Maybe he was asking for me to lend him a phone charger, but why would he follow me inside for that?! Was I overreacting?

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2024.05.22 00:50 Ilikeapples0001 Phoenix Rising (all hail empress pink au) (art by HellMick)

The Pink Diamond surveyed her latest campaign from orbit. It took a lot of research and development to make this view possible, but to see the light show below? Worth every Currency. From this heavenly vantage she could see every bombardment, every burning city, sometimes even a strike from her own vessel against a particularly stubborn entrenchment, and there was no shortage of these on this miserable rock. She had half a mind to depopulate this one completely, ship any survivors off to her less morally upstanding allies for their impudence… And yet she couldn’t help but admire their refusal to roll over, their dedication to what they believed in even unto extinction. Would that all of Homeworld’s citizens could be so devoted.
The doors behind her crashed open, though the tiny little gem that emerged from them couldn’t have opened them alone. “My Diamond! Empress!” she huffed, clearly worked up over something as she saluted and keeled appropriately. Pink for her part said nothing, simply turning just enough to look over her shoulder at one of her trusted seers. “Forgive me, please, but I bring grave news from the ground campaign.”
Pink scowled, but her countenance soon softened again, at least enough to be clear there was no ill will to her Padparadsha. “Elaborate,” she commanded.
“Th-there’s been an accident… I don’t know for sure but something happened with our bombardment, one of the shots hit our own troops, hundreds are dead and more are casualties-”
“That’s not my concern, there are lower ranks that can deal with such incidents. I suggest you report to the guilty party’s commanding officer and inform any next-of-kin.”
Padparadsha stammered and squawked before at last mustang words once more. “I-I-I did, m-my Diamond… and I am.”
“...What?” That can’t be right. “What do you mean ‘you are’? That-” No. No chance in hell. There is no way THAT happened. “I thought your visions were accurate, why are you implying this- this heresy!?”
Padparadsha shrunk away as if it would protect her. “I-I didn’t see everything, but the only thing that could have hurt her was an orbital strike!” she whimpered. “She was there and then there was so much fire… and smoke… and pain…” Even remembering this clearly pained her, but Pink was in no mind to care.
“Those… those…!” Words failed the Empress. Conscious thought fell by the wayside. Only revenge remained, only death to repay death. She didn’t even bother to dismiss her seer as she broke down her own doors, thundering down to the siege batteries with vengeful intent.
Glowing pink eyes scoured the message again and again, hoping - nay, demanding - to see the hidden message within that simply wasn’t there. Her grip clasped around a garnet’s neck as the last call of her kin burned into the screen.
“Cut off STOP surrounded STOP overwhelmed STOP phoenix rising STOP”
Phoenix Rising - the ultimate sacrifice, the code to bombard one’s own position. Pink’s glower swept the assembled gunnery crew, all of them having been knelt down and clutching the backs of their heads as if facing or forestalling execution. Some of them were wounded in the scuffle, and a pile of stones in one corner signified the Empress’ current capacity for patience. They’d all sworn up and down that they’d only followed the orders of their superiors, and even pyropes weren’t about to defy commands from one of Pink’s own. But who then? Who could be at fault for this? This doesn’t just happen! Pink’s children do not die!
“The sapphires…” Pink Diamond breathed, shaking her voice apart as her grip tightened, popping the poor pyrope’s body like a paper bag. “The sapphires! THE SAPPHIRES! I’LL HAVE THEIR GEMS FOR THIS!” she shrieked, buffeting the deck. “I’LL GRIND THEM INTO SAND MYSELF FOR THIS!”
A scoff from the door interrupted her diatribe. "Tsh. I thought you were a fair and just ruler, Pink!” came an interjection from her purported peer the Yellow Diamond, her eyes hidden behind an opaque visor. “Yet here you are ordering executions on a whim. What of trials? Of juries? Of due process? Even Blue wouldn't sink that low."
In an eyeblink Pink had released the pyrope’s gem and seized Yellow by the collar instead, dragging her down to eye-level. "MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD BECAUSE OF THEM! BECAUSE OF THEIR FAILURE!" she howled, starting to damage the hearing of her audience. Yellow as always seemed unfazed.
"Would you execute a doctor for failure to save a life!? A constable for failure to make an arrest!? A general for failure to win a battle, perhaps!"
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE!” Pink wailed, her image of an indomitable goddess amongst women peeling and crumbling into the childish petulance that defined her life in the prior era. “You don’t know!” her sobs choked out, dissipating into Yellow’s chest. Streams from her own visor went unnoticed.
“I know EXACTLY what it’s like,” Yellow quietly rumbled, her tightening grip around Pink suddenly growing evident. “And I don’t care how powerful you’ve grown, you will NOT dictate my emotions!”
“YOUR emotions-!? My DAUGHTER-!”
“With me, Pink! Your daughter - WITH ME!” The clasp of Yellow’s gloved digits dug deeply into pink’s young supple arms, perhaps even enough to hurt. Their eyes met again, pangs of… something turning the Empress’ insides as the streams on both their faces caught the light. “That’s Moissanite down there, Pink…” Neither of them wanted to say anything after that, and neither of them did, for now. Pink’s visage contorted with torment and loss, staining her lover with hologrammatic tears and mucus between sobs and coughs alike. Yellow was harder to read, admirably struggling to prop herself upwards as the rock to break on, the shoulder to cry on, as she always had done. For a moment they were people - not ideals or authorities or goddesses amongst women, but agonised, bereaved people.
And then the moment passed. “You-” Yellow cracked, choking for a moment before shoving her grief back down just a little longer. “You need time to heal.” Turning to address the gunport Yellow made her orders to everyone present. “Your Empress requires dignified private grieving for our loss today. She will retire to her quarters indefinitely. All others present will be escorted to the brig for interrogation and debriefing. I-” Another crack. One that wouldn’t go back down. Yellow pulled Pink out of the room, guiding arm around her shoulder as her last choked-out order weakly emerged from her mouth: “I have to recover her gem-” Cut off by a barely-stifled sob of her own, no more words would leave her for quite some time. With their departure, a detachment of prison guards - topazes, quartzes of all stripes, even a bismuth - flowed in behind. Nobody was willing to resist, not after the pain they had dealt unto their Diamonds.
https://www.reddit.com--HellMick--/s/VvErHf9Xia
https://www.reddit.com/AllHailEmpressPinkAU/s/Nnl4CwGLEl (+18 nsfw warning, viewer discretion is strongly advised)

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2024.05.22 00:48 whenyouthinkaboutit2 AITAH for arguing with a girl about drama?

I’ll use a code name, Lets say this girls name is Shayla. Shayla confronted me and asked me why i was telling people that she was talking bad about my friend. This never happened, so I said “This never happened.” She said: “that’s not what they told me.” We stayed silent for a bit and she walked away. I later posted something on my story about it, and she texted me and said: “Why are you lying? You were scared when I confronted you.” I texted her back and said “I was not scared, you and your friends were cornering me, and accusing me of something I didn’t do.” This argument kept going on until she said: “I don’t want to argue with you. Keep my name out of your mouth.” I said: “You’re lying, but have a nice day.” Then, I posted a note on instagram saying: “I definitely failed that test.” One of Shayla’s friends said: “Shut up.” I think she’s trying to get all of her friends to hate me, and it’s really annoying.
AITAH?

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2024.05.22 00:39 867530none copycat

i don’t understand the inner workings of my coworker’s mind. she recalls experiences of mine, that i shared with her as her own. she complained about it the same way i did.
my doctor’s receptionist told me the wrong date for the appointment and i had to take PTO to go there. i said it cost me money for nothing.
it’s either a one in a million coincidence that the same exact thing happened to her too, or she is delusional and hallucinating or getting confused, or she’s trying to pass it off as her own and forgot that she heard it from me.
she is a bit of a hypochondriac and has a lot of “medical issues”. i know because i sit next to her and she tells me about them daily. i sometimes have hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) and mentioned it a bit jokingly “driving that big truck scares me so much it gives me low blood sugar”. because it does, it takes a lot of energy and it makes me nervous, on more than three different occasions i have ended up with low blood sugar after driving. it’s to the point where i carry a protein drink with me just in case of emergency.
now since she noticed i carry a protein drink and jokes about the big scary truck giving me stress, she now carries protein drinks everywhere, makes a point to shake shake shake it and hit the bottom of it with the heel of her hand. and she jokes about an angry karen that’s after her (there’s one every day) and how it’s so stressful it gave her low blood sugar.
i’m pretty sure it’s just her mental health issues and pretty sure it’s fake. so i just play along like i always do, “ on no you should eat something!
whatever, it’s just weird hearing the things i’ve told her come out of her mouth

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2024.05.22 00:36 raisinbrain I believe an Octatrack replacement will drop in the next 1-2 years. Here is why.

Ever since I first saw someone use an octatrack in 2010 I've always been a fan of it and the other Elektron devices. I love my octatrack despite its age and have always enjoyed making stuff on it. With that said, the device is starting to show its age and I believe that Elektron will ship a replacement to the octatrack within the next year or two. Naturally they're not going to announce this until they drop it, so predictions are hard but I'm going to make them anyway.
There is an OT-sized gap in the lineup
Right now in their lineup, for any given role, they have a full-sized item and a half-sized item (I'm ignoring the model:... devices and the other ones for now). The Analog 4 has the Digitone (synths), the Analog Rytm has the Syntakt (drum synths), and the OT has the Digitakt (samplers).
The Digitakt 2's new features are really starting to give the OT a run for its money, especially with the 16 audio/midi tracks, the sidechainable "pump-ready" compressor, and the Overbridge support are quite simply things that the OT cannot support even with a firmware upgrade.
The lack of overbridge support is the biggest gap IMO, especially for a device that is meant to be the "centerpiece" of a hardware setup. I can use every other device as a sound card to record and master on my computer, but not the OT, which means I have to either use a device that has fewer inputs or a separate audio interface.
I have a DT1 and while I don't have a DT2 it seems to have a lot of really incredible features. However what it doesn't have as much of the "centerpiece" features that the OT boasts, mainly the multi-stereo-in, multitrack recording and diverse FX. When you combine the inherent gaps in the DT2 and the inherent gaps in the OT, it seems like there's enough of a gap to justify a new device.
It will be built off of the Digitakt, almost like a DT plus
According to what I've seen on Elektronauts, the team that made the OT are no longer at the company, and apparently it has a codebase that is different enough from the other devices that they are unable to get Overbridge working on it (which is why its not already on there). So its reasonable to think that the OT is essentially in maintenance mode: maybe a few extra features with firmware upgrades but its about as mature as its going to get. Contrast that with the other overbridge-ready devices which feel a bit more "evergreen", its difficult to eke out new features with what exists now.
While I have no window into their development process, it seems to me it would be much easier to add OT-like features to the DT than it would be to get the OT up to "evergreen" status.
Based on what has been developed so far with the DT2, it kinda feels like they're doing this in preparation to build a new flagship device.
It will not be called an Octatrack, and it will be something completely new
This will not be a MKIII device and will be called something else. Since the DT2 already boasts 16 channel stereo sampling, the OT would likely need to match that, which kinda makes the OT naming a bit odd.
Since it will be built from the ground up, it makes sense for them to brand this as a totally different device to avoid the OT comparisons and give them the freedom to do something new.
Also, since the OT is already a great device, it might make sense to keep shipping those alongside the new thing. This would also help levy any criticisms that the new product might have for being too "divergent" from what the OT does.
DAW-less and performance-centric setups have started to become more of a thing lately if what I've seen online is any indication, and if I were them I would be wanting to position this as an even more powerful "centerpiece" device than anything else on the market. Ableton is starting to get in on their turf a bit with the standalone Push, and Akai is continuing to upgrade the MPC platform, so IMO they're going to need to get serious with a device that connects DAW-less to DAW.
Elektron could ship an OT with DT features, but I'd wager they will want to reimagine this a bit. I just hope they keep the crossfader!
It will be the most expensive device they sell (> $2k but probably not by much)
Not that I want it to cost this much, but shipping a new product is a good time to bump up the price floor, what with inflation and all. The standalone Push is already selling at $2k, and if this is supposed to compete with that, it stands to reason it will have a similar price tag. Some on here have said that Elektron has been focusing so much on the half-sized devices since they sell better and I generally agree, but given my above points, they might want to go all out on a "mothership" device with the associated price tag.
Also, if they decide they want to continue making the OT, they can probably keep selling it at $1600 without cannibalizing the new device too much.
What I really want
I really just want an OT with overbridge support, a dedicated master with compressor sidechain, good effects (current effects are fine but could be better), and that incredible crossfader with the scenes. I'm not the first person to ask for that either. The fact that this hasn't happened yet while the DT is getting lots of upgrades, it feels like a new OT-like device is (relatively) around the corner.

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2024.05.22 00:01 Query-can [acne] PD/acne? Consistent breakouts around mouth and chin, please help

Hi,
I (23F) have been dealing with these bumps around my mouth and chin area for about 7 months. I’ve been to two derms at different points over the past few months and one said it was PD and one said it was comedonal acne. The first prescribed me doxy and topical clindamycin— had an allergic reaction to the doxy and had to stop, and the clindamycin didn’t seem to help.
The second derm (who said it was acne) prescribed adapalene, which I have been using for a few months now but stopped this week because I am working my way to trying zero therapy. I haven’t seen much change other than drying out the area around my mouth.
I can’t figure out what this is or what is causing it. Certain foods like dairy and chocolate seem to make it worse, but it doesn’t go away when I cut down on them. There was a period when it subsided a bit in February when I was exercising, managing stress, and eating super clean, but again not a complete fix and it came back.
In the AM I only moisturize my face with Avene HydroGel moisturizer
I used to use Kiehls serum sunscreen but I stopped this recently to see if it was making it worse
PM routine:
Tatcha camellia oil cleanser, which I’ve been using for 5 years without issue
Avene moisturizer
Other things I’ve tried that haven’t worked: Differin, sulfur soap, tea tree oil, PC azelaic acid, LRP cicaplast, zinc soap, glycolic acid, niacinamide, changing my toothpaste to sulfate/fluoride free
please help if you can, I don’t know if it’s hormonal, fungal, or some kind of food allergy but it’s not going away :( the rest of my face is clear but this is getting worse

submitted by Query-can to SkincareAddiction [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 23:55 Necessary_Salad_515 Are my tonsils inflamed?

I’m having a sore throat and white bumps on the bottom of my tongue and mouth

submitted by Necessary_Salad_515 to CankerSores [link] [comments]

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