Swappers! Ppff no notes for payments and Yolo takes priority. If sold tonight these will be out in the morning. Thanks!
https://imgur.com/a/fMunJUA
Xm-18 3.5 Bowie with flipper delete in 20cv. Comes with sharp by design copper camo carbon fiber scale. I believe that is the scale finish. Stud action is great. Factory edge. Comes with box, triway parts and original g10 scale. Sv 450
Birdvis Hitchcock. First owner. Excellent action. Factory edge lnib. Sv 525
R Carroll Vereb in k390. At least second owner. Sharpened to 17dps. Nice and slicey. Sv 280
Budget bundle. Old guard in 14c28 and cjrb bowie button lock pyrite in armp9. Both have been used, carried, and sharpened. The old guard has snails on the blade but functions like it did when I received it. First owner on the old guard and second owner on the bowie . Old guard comes with extra clips and box. Bowie will come in a pouch and with the cloth. I don't have the box for this one. Sv 75 for both

I think I've had this dream twice now. One time just now, I woke up fresh at 2am lol We are 3 girls in Germany who played a kind of game in which we start a round. At first we didn't get along well, or rather, I was the odd one out. But even though we were strangers to each other, we had to unite in the first round. Unfortunately, I can't remember what the beginning was like, so I'll talk about the round we just had now :')
We're approaching the start in a somewhat relaxed manner; we've already completed several laps in ththis, always the same map. There is a fashion store in front of us that we run through. I don't even remember who the enemy was, we just ran through it as if our lives depended on it. I think it was one of those dolls or an employee. There is something like a safe point behind the fashion store. We shovel ice cream and Jell-O in there, which really helps with my nerves.
"I don't want this, I can't go through this a fifth time!" I whine like a baby.
"Ah yes, last round you said, 'Now I don't have to be afraid of anything!' " cried the one I was clinging to, laughing.
I don't know if you're real, but I think we're really good friends now. And I know that for sure when I cling to arms that don't belong to me xD The other one treated herself to a fat ladle of jelly and vanilla sauce✨️✨️
And then it started. We are further and have seen our opponent. My perception always said that it was a mannequin, but it still somehow looked like an old man, about 50 years old. The next hunt takes place again in a fashion store and then goes outside. Into a city that I have no idea about and where I can hardly see anything while running. My heart was really racing and I was sure that I wouldn't be able to do it this time because I can never really get around the corners. Then it started, we ran like crazy, a doll came from behind and pushed away cupboards that I had put in her way. From then on the others were gone. So not gone in the sense of 'poof, just disappeared', but rather we were spread out and couldn't see each other. From then on I don't know what to do next. I forced myself to wake up because of the fear of these dolls because the doll came way too close to me and I fell on the floor and then lay on my back. The doll (or rather the old man in black leather clothes) then stood in front of me, pulled away the cupboards on the sides and stared down at me.
I hope you two managed it without me. I would have loved to tell you directly that I was going to Reddit, but that wasn't possible. If I were out of the “game” now, it would be a real shame. We are a really good team and I really have a feeling of friendship around you. After I woke up, my heart was really racing. After a few minutes, tears welled up in my eyes for no reason, even though I wasn't sad. To be honest, I really deeply regret waking up in the middle of it. Maybe you would have saved me after all. I hope that if you are truly genuine, your path will lead you here. I would really like to become friends with you in real life, you don't seem like you're just fictional people. I hope we find each other outside of dreams too.

My second playthrough of Stellaris.
Writing a story while playing improves the strongest part of this game: The role playing. I did it mostly for myself, but i guess it never hurts to share.
It's pretty long for a reddit post. (short compared to some other AARs tho).
I played the pre-defined Gorthikan race. Their origin is Overtuned Genetics. Democratic scavengers with mutagenic spas. Fanatic egalitarian materialist.
*SPOILER WARNING*
2200: We overthrew the shackles of mindless ravaging and tyranny with our bravery. We would not succumb to our animal like existence. Gene splicing gave us the answers. Life for everyone got easier. With all this pressure taken away from us, we would finally be able to create a Government. A place for every Gorthikan to be represented. Freedom would be our guide. Self improvement our Sword. To the stars!
2205: Our scientist informed us of our biosphere in danger. We would need to research catastrophic events on other planets. With only one planet, this is of major importance. We found one planet, but its not very habitable. The search goes on.
2208: We found a planet worth colonizing. Our colonist are on the way.
2210: Another alpine world found! A glorious day for all Grothikans. We have decided to improve fertility, but the genetic splicing made our species fragile. Leading positions are hard to fill, with leaders only serving for 10-15 years. This takes a huge toll on our unity as a species. Maybe more splicing has to be made, in order to increase the lifespan. For now, we must fill the stars with the abundance of our citizens.
2215: It turned out our recent splicing was a fatal mistake. With our populations life span toll, governing a galactic civilization would become impossible. Our latest leader served less than a year. We would fall into chaos if would not intervene immediately. Splicing had to be conducted NOW. Our scientist came up with a genius trait, which would automatically adjust citizens to their jobs. We needed to incorporate this in exchange for some reproduction, and gain a lot of lifespan in return. Sadly it took many years to modify our species. Only hope could carry us further from here.
2218: We encountered sentient alien life! They seem to be fungus in nature, but form a usual Space faring civilization. Fascinating.
2220: Early years of space colonization have been really rough for us. Still about 15 more years until the splice fixing would be complete. 2 great habitable worlds are locked in a system with what seems space amoeba. Those creatures are fending us off. With one fleet of corvettes destroyed, we had to realize that, our military technology would have to improve if we wanted to take that system.
2221: War has been declared on us. The first Alien nation we met is now trying to beat us into vassals. With our fleets weakened we have to scramble to not get overrun. Things looking more dire by the minute.
2222: With no fleets by the start of the war we were forced to accept submission. We lost a system and are now dominated by those fungal creatures. Our Agreements with them were dire. No further expansion and 15% tax on goods. We could only hope they would treat us with more respect later.
2228: After a few tough years we were able to negotiate the terms of our servant ship. We would be free to expand, and not taxed. Maybe there would be a chance for our civilization, if just a slim one. The stresses of galactic wars and resource shortages had taken their toll on the population. Unfortunately one of our planets started to rebel.
2232: The rebellion had long been quenched easily. Our genetic alterations finally commenced. New hopes were rising. Unfortunately climate changed completely on one of your planets, and it turned into an ocean world. Not quite habitable for our people, but it would have to suffice. Luckily we research robotics. That would make things a bit easier. It also turns out that our latest genetics program was a success. Our civilization is manageable now, since individuals can grow into significant personalities due to their increased lifespans.
2243: After a calm period of economic growth we decided it would be time to challenge our overlord. Enough oppression. Rally the fleets.
2246: We won! Finally free from their control, we decided to bide our time until we could return the favor. For now, we had gotten control of 2 of their systems as a bonus.
2248: Our improved robotics now allow for specialized robots. Finally, we have effective workers for our ocean planet. After a gradual replacement, we hope to resettle our real citizens to a more suitable planet. Habitable planets are much less common than anticipated. We still only possess 4 worlds, and they are getting crowded. Most of them are quite small. We decided we would try putting a colony on a tropical world. Not very habitable for us cold-loving creatures, but maybe our robots could do most of the work there.
2257: While we were preparing to vassalize our fungal neighbors, another empire to the south declared war on us. They wish to vassalize us. Traumatic memories come ashore. We discovered them about a year ago. They are reptilian. We don't have much more information. To war!
2263: We are close to victory over the cold-blooded snake-eyes. But our fleets are so far away from our old rival, the fungal fiends, that we decided to build a second fleet. We declared war to vassalize them and marched onwards with our secondary fleet.
2266: Our society had a breakthrough! With the combined might of the unity between us, we've gotten our society even more focused on what even united us in the first place. New fields of genetics lay before us. We would ascend.
2267: We have encountered quite a few space faring civilizations by now. A multitude of them proposed to create a galactic council. That sounds promising. Maybe it could get more peaceful around here.
2268: We have beaten the cold-blooded and gotten 6 systems in reparations, but the fungoids are proving hardy. With only a small fleet of ours in the northern conflict, we cannot win the war effectively even though we have the upper hand. We will settle on the status quo for now, still planning to return in a few years. Their atrocities of the first war still reverberate to this day.
2272: The scientific community proposed a technology to alter our species' habitability towards specific planets! In preparation, we would send colony ships to every planet we were able to reach. This news came at the right time. Our planets are bursting with populations.
2277: One more year until our truce with the snake-eyes ends. Shipyards are converting every alloy we have into fleets. 2282: We would have loved to attack the fungal menace in the north, but it's very far from the south, and down there, our truce with the snake-eyes would end. Our cunning plan: draw the snake-eyes into a quick war, with the intention of a quick truce. With the forced peace in the south, we could concentrate our fleets on the north without danger from below.
2283: Our scientists had a massive breakthrough! Genetics would now be possible almost without constraints. Ascension had come. Each and every citizen elevated to perfection for its purpose.
Modification template creation would start immediately. The masses of Gorthikans would be modified to either be shaped for dry, wet, or cold environments. But we would not stop there. Genetics had so much more to offer.
The generalist Gorthikans would live long lives, be happier, less unruly, and very efficient at industrious tasks. In addition, they would adapt to whatever task they picked up. Perfection.
The less common Gorthikans would be next. We only created them from clone vats, since we could control exactly where those would be needed, and they would not reproduce out of control, since there were never many jobs for such citizens anyway. We made them incredibly smart. Tests showed that they would be 50% smarter than their peers. Artists and bureaucrats were designed to live long, happy lives, with an urge for the betterment of other people's lives.
Lastly, in a fortunate coincidence, we managed to find gene samples for a species able to survive the harshest post-apocalyptic landscapes. We perfected those mammals to live on the huge tomb world that happened to be in our borders. They would be obedient and strong, perfect for lowly works.
From now on, robots would be obsolete. Sentient life was more than just superior.
With our new plan set in action, we needed tremendous amounts of biomass.
2292: What was supposed to be a quick stratagem, turned out to be a nail-biting war of attrition against the snake-eyes. We could barely whittle them down. But our prize was phenomenal. 6 star systems and 1 huge relic world. With those achievements behind us, we were looking northwards to our fungal rivals. It was time to settle this once and for all.
2293: Our fleets in position, there was a moment of calamity. In our early days of space fare, we were taught that the strong would get their way. Our magnificent creations, each and every one perfect, were threatened. Threatened by the imperfect. It was time we got our way. Perfection should rule over the galaxy. As we would make every life form flawless. Other empires would not see our plans with mistrust. We were preparing to bring our gift by force. From now on, other empires called us the Galactic Nemesis from then on.
2298: We learned some valuable lessons during this war. Our enemy would absolutely not surrender multiple systems to us and be our vassal. They would rather die. We are not at that point yet. Another offense at a later point will subjugate them. We are patient.
2302: The snake-eyes in the south kept cursing our way. It's only a matter of time until they declared war. We had to end it once and for all. Use the leftover specimens as genetic material. We started by paying raiders. Hiring a few mercenaries wouldn't hurt either. Our fleets were strong. So it begins. To war!
2313: With a last effort, the reptilians were able to muster out one last powerful fleet. We couldn't push further. But they lost 80% of their star systems. About half of them fell into our possession. Construction vessels were on the way to conquer the others. The snake-eyes would no longer pose a threat to us. Gorthikans could rest easier.
2320: The snake-eyes would prove sturdier than we thought. They formed alliances with multiple other empires. We set out to crush them again. This time supporting a rebellion from within them.
2321: Our species is divided. We gave them everything. Freedom. Perfect bodies. Great living standards. But we have always been rebels at heart. Seemingly even the best splicing could not get rid of that. Half of the population wanted to conquer the galaxy. The other half wanted to embrace peace and compassion for the alien nations. Overall unhappiness took hold in our empire. Rebellions sprung up from time to time. Enforcement and distractions were necessary to keep the population in check. Did we go too far? Our hatred was sparked by the attacks on us. Now we were the aggressors. Did we go too far?
2325: The wars on multiple fronts spread us too thin. We won against the snake-eyes, but the fungus managed to get away with a white peace status quo. Again. The fallen empires start threatening us and our citizens shake in fear. Frustration settles in. The once so great vision and unity is no more. Hatred within and without our nation. There is no turning back either. Everybody hates us and wants to see us dead. The economy is decent but cannot support our required fleet. We took every planet we could. Unemployment is still high.
2331: We had shifted our focus inwards. What worth is freedom if you have no choice? We created opportunities for our citizens. Theaters on every planet. An abundance of jobs. After all, if we were determined to bring our way to the universe, it'd better be worth it.
2332: We were finally able to construct hyper relays. The century-old problem of fleet logistics would become far less detrimental.
2334: Dormant empire threatened us for the third time. This time it was enough. Fleet production to the maximum.
2335: With no attack from the fallen ones, we decided to use our fleets to attack the cursed fungal people. Success came fast this time. We relied on our spacecraft until now. But the first breakthrough in this century-long conflict was achieved by our ground forces. Our gene-soldiers would make short work of planetary defenses. Perfection would prevail after all. With 4 planets full of new citizens taken from them, our researchers had lots to do in order to ascend them to perfection. They would be grateful after all. Free of inadequacies, free citizens in our egalitarian nation.
2336: Formation of the galactic council. We couldn't care less. The other empires were neither free nor perfect. We would bring it to them. No matter what they say.
2343: An all-out war with the lizard fiends was at full swing. The hatred between our species surged to new heights. Every Gorthikan could feel it. A mysterious connection. Our scientists said it came from the Shroud. Some raised their voices in question, asking if we had gone mad. Did our genetic splicing take its toll after all? Billions had died in our wake. There was no turning back.
2348: In an unforeseen event, the Panaxalan Horde united under a Khan. Their fleets were absolutely massive. All other wars had to be put to rest for now. We had made great land gains. We could come back later.
2358: Luckily, the horde was concentrating on other empires. We lost a few systems here and there, but the losses were acceptable. We decided it was time to level the playing field and erase some of the tiny empires in the area. With them removed, the big players in the area would not have to tread so carefully in the future.
2361: The horde started turning our way. We managed to destroy their second-biggest fleet and one of their flagships. Their biggest fleet wiped out our fighters shortly after. Mass production from all starports would hopefully suffice.
2364: The Great Khan's fleet was destroyed. The coward escaped through hyperspace. The war is not over. Our fleets shall push as fast as they can through their territory. Sadly, a vile necropolis kingdom declared war on us, and we had to spread our fleets thin.
2365: The Khan already had a second fleet assembled. Seems like he would not give up easily.
2366: We were able to bruise the necropolis kingdom hard enough to make them settle for a status quo. Just in time. Our forces needed to race to meet the Khan's second fleet. No time for repairs. Meanwhile, our eyes turned west. During all our fighting in the north and south, the Ruphaarian Hive was left unchecked for a century. Their unobtrusive looks were deceiving. Insignificant mammals at first glance, but connected via a fascinating connection, they acted as one individual. In either case, their empire was massive. They took the fungal people as vassals recently. Our fighting in the south and east needed to come to a conclusion soon.
2367: The Great Khan is dead! New, infighting empires were founded. With our fleets bordering one of them, we decided to subjugate the closest one. Such uprisings shall never happen again.
2370: The Galactic Community declared us an existential galactic threat. All we wanted was to bring freedom and perfection. Maybe our methods were not diplomatic, but our motives were good. Sacrifices had to be made. Billions so far. With everyone against us now, trillions to come. Probably. Maybe there was another way out. Our scientists proposed a new device: the Aetherophasic Engine. Combined with the immense star-eater ships, we could get closer to tapping into the shroud, the mysterious thing which connected all of us. We had to see it through.
2371: The onslaught from all sides was immense. When war was declared on us, our fleets were completely out of position. To our demise, the Ruhaarian Hive used a wormhole close to our home planet to bring in massive fleets. Our only hope was that our hyperlanes could get us into position fast enough. Due to a fatal error in miscommunication between our scientists and mega-facility team, our starbases were not upgraded to the citadel design, which was needed to produce further Star-Eaters. Who would have thought that the destruction of our species might come down to such an embarrassing error? Our only chance was to defend longer with our normal fleets.
2373: Defense was manageable. The other empires in the galaxy were no match for a conglomerate of perfected species after all. Attacks were still underway, but the surprise attack was defeated, and the brunt of their fleets shattered.
2385: Other empires had no fight left in them anymore. Our Star-Eaters left a wake of destruction. More than that, our neighboring empires glowed up in supernovae. Unusable star systems with nothing left except black holes remained. Our rivalry with the fungoids seemed so childish and innocent. The snake-eyes were about to meet the same fate. The citizens whom we integrated into our empire before the great star feast were all that was left of them.
2395: The galaxy started to change. Not in the visuals in the sky. Most systems were not connected to a hyperlane anyway. But the galactic map of charted systems did even more. Half the Ruphaarian Hives' worlds were devoured by black holes.
2398: Our hold on the shroud grew with every stage of the project. Soon not only our bodies would be perfect, but our minds as well. Perfect in every aspect.
2399: The fabric of space tore apart, the being of the void entered our space. We had no more mercy for them than for the other casualties of this war. The price had to be paid. But after all, a universe in flames was a sight to behold.
2409: The shroud is fighting with all its frenzy not to be invaded. Mad avatars pour into our dimension as it lies in anguish.
2418: The Aetherophasic Engine is brimming with the dark energy of countless stars. We would only have to activate it and ascend. Nothing of what has been could describe what would be. Perfected beings in a flawless new existence. The destruction of the whole galaxy was the price. As an inconceivable number of beings perished, we were taken somewhere, where those things don't have meaning anymore.

first
Luna VI query: Set the source to the leaked files of the first reconnaissance operation of Irisa.
Done!
Luna VI query: What did Nathan do during the first hour of the war?
***
From the instant he opened his eyes, Nathan's morning was chaotic. It all began with the ground shaking beneath him, jolting him into a state of awareness. He then was greeted by the sight of Amara. She was leaning against a corner, covered in purple from head to toe as she screamed at someone through an earpiece that she was pressing with one of her claws.
His good morning was overhearing one piece of bad news after the other.
The rest of Amara's group had been ambushed early in the morning; many were dead, injured, or missing.
A war had erupted in the sky and her allies were trying to push back the enemy forces, but the battle persisted; the outcome was uncertain.
Zara was being brought to them, but Amara had lost contact with Igmila's group who was bringing her, only receiving confirmation from another group that a rescue pod was spotted at a distance.
And when he thought that things couldn't get any worse, he heard a bang followed by the AI reporting that Ryo had shot down a drone somewhere near their position.
"Open the tent!" Red had conquered Amara's body.
None of the scenarios Nathan had contemplated the previous night had prepared him for such a chaotic morning. "Give me a second."
He only wanted a chance to get his gun from his backpack and explain why he had it in the first place, even though he suspected Amara was already aware he had it. But she didn't let him. "Now!"
She had never felt so distant to him as the moment she said that single word, which led him to just comply as he stood up and followed her in silence. But this frail silence only masked his morning grumpiness, magnified by the dire circumstances and her cold demeanor toward him.
Nathan had barely caught a glimpse of Ryo and Elysira at a distance when he muttered. "It wouldn't have been so hard to say a few words to fill me in, you know."
Amara's eyes were transfixed on the smoking pieces of the drone when she whipped her head around, glaring at him with her orange eyes. "My people are fighting a war and dying. How can you demand my time when Yelara is hurt and barely escaped alive?"
"Oh, come on, I'm not demanding anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I just don't think it would have been so hard to tell me what you intend to do in the next five minutes."
The tip of her tail pressed against his chest, as red and purple coexisted on her skin.
"I am heading up the mountain to find Igmila." She spoke in a detached voice, pulling her tail back and turning around, and then she sprinted in the gap between himself and the tent.
He caught a glimpse of gray on her neck and all his grumpiness was gone, replaced by a cold shiver running down his spine. With his arms moving faster than his thoughts, he grabbed her by the tail, preventing her from going anywhere.
"You absolutely can't do this Amara." Nathan looked down at the tail he held with both hands and swallowed a lump of saliva in fear of her reaction. But that still didn't prevent him from finishing what he had to say, "It's too dangerous."
Amara's eyes sought his, causing him to suspect she would demand to be released or try to free herself by force, but she did something else. "All of this is because of you. Had I not come to your tent, I would be there to assist them."
Nathan caught a glimpse of green around her back spots, which let him know that there was a hint of guilt in her words. But did that justify blaming everything on him and running into danger without thinking?
If not for the awful night followed by an awful morning, Nathan might have just taken the blame and hugged her. But he too had his limits, "How is that fair? Blame me all you want, but nothing will change that you had all the chances in the world to go back and you didn't. I'm not saying that you could have done anything abo-"
"Indeed." Gray flashed for a moment before red flowed among her black spots. "This night was a waste of time." His grip faltered at her words and she pulled her tail back from among his fingers. "I should have stayed with Yelara to help her tend to her wounds."
Nathan bit his lips in frustration. How was it possible to agree with her words, yet still feel the sharp sting in his heart?
And if that was not enough, Ryo had to step in to rub salt in the wound.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
With Elysira’s tail wrapped around his wrist as she averted her eyes from Amara, Ryo spoke, "Please don't tell me you're mad because the plant lover couldn't get it up."
Nathan blinked fast not believing his eyes. Ryo was not only shirtless but there were a lot of scratches on his neck and below. Elysira’s long strands were also a mess, but even without that, their physical closeness alone would be enough of a hint of how much fun they had at night.
When Nathan glanced at Amara to gauge her reaction, she had already crossed her arms, looking at him angrily. Which immediately made him feel as if Ryo’s not-funny joke was true although he knew it wasn't.
It took Nathan a considerable amount of self-retainment to not walk up there and rearrange Ryo's handsome face with his fist, or at least attempt to do so.
A few seconds passed before he said, "Why are you here?"
Ryo didn't even bother to look at him, his eyes focusing solely on Amara. "Information. I want her to tell me what she knows about this war."
Amara didn't look pleased to help, but she still informed him about the ambush and even alerted him that even their current position would soon be unsafe.
As If things weren't already bad enough, Ryo frowned and hurried to instruct Elysira to get his things as soon as Amara had finished talking. Nathan felt like he was in a war movie where everything was happening too fast for his emotions and reason to follow.
It was only when he saw Ryo raising his gun skywards that Nathan’s anger subsided, contained by the prospect of how bad their situation was. Ryo movements were fluid and methodical, but he never pulled the trigger on the many drones that appeared high above and, instead, retreated to take cover behind a tree.
Only now the seriousness of the situation sank in for Nathan.
He didn't even care that he hadn't explained to Amara why he had a gun yet, rushing inside the tent after exchanging a glance with her.
After crossing the circular door, he found only a few items on the ground: a pair of boots, his sleeping bag, and his backpack with all his equipment inside.
Nathan was quick, wearing his boots first before retrieving his belt, knife, and holster from the backpack. With a sequence of swift movements, he strapped the sheathed knife and holster to the belt and cinched it around his waist, securing it in place before closing the backpack and dashing out the door with his gun in one hand and the backpack in the other.
Already outside, Nathan found it weirdly reassuring that Ryo was in the same spot as before, but that only lasted until he tried to find Amara, but found nothing no matter where he searched for her.
He dropped his backpack, feeling at a loss. How could he have allowed her to venture beyond his sight when he knew that guilt was clouding her judgment?
Only when he had already cupped his hands around his mouth to scream her name that he felt a touch right above his heel—her tail.
"Psst..."
Wiping his head, Nathan saw Amara's whole body mimicking the colors of his tent, making herself quite hard to spot.
"I thought you were gone." He joined her, stooping down beside the tent as relief washed over him.
"It might be too late to join my soldiers." She didn't allow her colors to change, but the translator conveyed a hint of sadness. "I lost contact with all the teams who were coming here."
"Amara I-"
Nathan was about to attempt to make things right with her when Ryo’s assertive voice reached him. "Listen up, those fuckers are jamming our comms and they will be here at any time. Take the MLBCS and find a clearing to use it, I doubt they can interfere with the laser. Just don't forget that your immediate safety comes first or else you might not be among the living when the pod arrives."
Ryo ran back to his tent as soon as he was done speaking, leaving Nathan questioning his own intelligence. How come he had never even considered leaving the planet? A single glance at Amara and he knew why. But did he have any other option?
Staying and fighting to hold his position was something he briefly considered. But did he have a chance when even Ryo decided to leave after seeing the drones?
Mission control might give him other options, so Nathan decided to try his luck despite Ryo’s warning.
Unable to establish a two-way connection.
He confirmed the interference with the communication with a single thought, kicking his backpack in frustration even though it was expected.
Why did it have to be so hard to accept that Ryo was right and leaving the planet was his best option?
But would Ryo truly leave the planet and leave Elysira behind?
Nathan forgot Amara who was beside him and screamed, not allowing this question to stay in his mind, "Wait, what are you gonna do?"
Ryo replied as he waited for Elysira, "I'm not leaving the planet unless mission control finds a way to save Ely too."
Nathan's eyes widened, feeling like an idiot as he brought up a pop-up window showing the schematics of the rescue pods. They were designed to be fast vehicles capable of transporting a single person to the space station, but Earth's government hadn’t skimped on the design, which included various components that could be discarded, such as medical supplies and search and rescue equipment.
He used the AI to run the calculations and found that Amara would likely be able to go with him, that is if they wedged themselves into the vehicle and discarded everything else.
Nathan was about to share his findings with Ryo when he caught a glimpse of him and Elysira disappearing into the woods, abandoning their tent behind as they ran away.
A sense of urgency struck him at that moment, but it was easily forgotten when Amara's voice struck even harder, "You should go."
"What do you mean?" He sought her eyes, but she avoided his gaze, facing to the ground.
"Do what Ryo suggested." She took a small pause before she went on. "Leave the planet."
"The hell I will!" He punched the tent. "Not without you." He could only assume she was saying this because she didn't know she could leave with him. "You'll come with me, and the pod will take us to the space station."
"Your species will refuse to take me." He saw a hint of purple on her neck. "Before the mission started your people told us you humans will not get involved in our wars." She finally made eye contact, and the purple on her skin intensified. "My best chance to survive this is to hide in the mountains and wait for reinforcements."
"You don’t understand, Amara." He didn't have time for a full explanation of what humans considered not getting involved. "No one in mission control will want to leave you here to die just because of some stupid rule." He then spoke his heart out without a care in the world. "And even if they do, they will take you anyway if say I won't go anywhere without you."
A hint of yellow could be seen among her camouflaged skin, but before she could say what she would do, her tail wrapped around his neck and he felt a strong pull to lower his head and bend his knees for cover.
"The rebels are here," she whispered as her ears twitched.
Nathan was tall enough to see the slope on the other side of the tent by just standing, but Amara struggled to see from above the structure, requiring her to stretch her full height and still take little jumps to take peeks.
And it was after doing so that she dropped her camouflage entirely, letting purple run free among her black spots.
Nathan took interest in what she had seen that had caused such a reaction, and he leaned cautiously against the tent and raised his head slowly, prepared to find a few armed Irisians hidden among the trees. But what he found instead was a never-ending line of Irisian advancing downhill at a fast pace towards them.
He understood Amara's reaction now, pulling back the harmer of the revolver as he stared at her. "I need to... do something."
He made up his mind, determined to shoot. But when activated the infrared view mode and took aim at Irisians descending the slope, Nathan froze for a second. This just lasted a moment, and when found the resolve to fire, he had already lifted the gun enough that it wouldn't hit anyone and it would just be a warning shot.
He fired once, twice, and went on until all six rounds were gone, then he noticed their organized marching had stopped, all of them having activated their camouflage. Some even broke the line and retreated uphill.
When he took cover again, Amara was protecting her ears with both hands, looking at him as if he were some sort of monster. Nathan ignored her and rifled through his backpack in search of more ammunition, finding the small box with shining metal bullets after he had searched for some long seconds.
It was only when he released the cylinder to reload the gun that Nathan noticed something.
His hands were shaking.
He ignored it and pressed the extraction rod the remove the cartridges from the cylinder to make room for the new ones, clumsily dropping a few of them as he reloaded.
Amara saw this and stopped him with her tail before he had filled all the chambers.
"I cannot go with you." Her body had been conquered by purple.
"You think I'll leave you behind?" He almost reached his breaking point when she replied.
"No." Her tail touched his cheek gently. "There are too many of them, Nathan." She pulled her tail back as a hint of gray appeared. "My brother will never let me go, he lost too many ships and soldiers to give up without his prize." The gray intensified, squeezing her black spots. "If you die with me on this planet, your species might abandon Irisa forever.
"My chances of hiding in the mountains are slim, but they exist... and even if I fail I will distract them long enough for you to flee."
Her body blended with the surroundings again and Nathan felt that she was about to do something stupid, but he moved faster and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to bend her legs and join him on the ground as she stared at him with wide eyes.
"To hell with this self-sacrifice bullshit." Nathan finally decided what he would do. "Do you think I will die that easy? Guess what, you’re wrong." His hands moved from her shoulder to her back and he embraced her. "Let me tell you what we'll do, we take the MLBCS, we find a clearing, and we go to the space station." He released her and added, almost crazily. "You go with me even if I have to drag you by the tail as you scratch me, you hear me?"
He was not kidding; he grabbed her tail with his left hand, leaving her exterior filled with colors ranging from purple to yellow.
Amara was about to reply when the tent produced a thud noise, sounding as if someone had knocked on a cardboard box. When they turned to the side, there was a tiny hole in the tent dangerously close to Amara's head.
She touched the hole with her finger, and then her whole hand pressed against the side of her head, staring at him without saying a word.
Nathan's heart skipped a beat when he realized what had just happened, and consumed by a rage like he never felt before, he pressed the cylinder of his revolver back into place with just the four bullets inside, pulling back the harmer.
This time there was no hesitation, he quickly stood up and used the infrared view mode to survey the now organized groups of Irisians who had taken a defensive formation, choosing as target an Irisian who had climbed a tree and was pointing a long gun at them.
In just a moment Nathan aimed and pulled the trigger, firing one round after another. The first two missed completely, but the others hit the tree right above the target, making this Irisian panic and release his claws from the wood, only to welcome an ugly fall on the rocks below from several meters above the ground.
He took cover again immediately, but this time noise as if he was facing heavy rain under an umbrella struck his eardrums moments after he had taken cover, making him wince every time he heard the distinct noise of a projectile going through one wall of the tent and stopping the other.
With her tail still among his fingers, Nathan and Amara exchanged several anxious glances as the shooting persisted, only calming down when the rebels realized they were wasting ammunition and the barrage of fire slowly started to lose momentum.
Nathan's heart was racing and she was going through all tones of purple when she broke the silence.
"Fine!" She spoke fast. "If you are being so adamant about tying our fates together, we can do it your way." Her tail escaped his grip, but instead of pulling it back, she coiled it around his wrist. "But we are weaker together, Nathan. I will be a burden to you when you run, and you will be a burden to me when we hide."
"Oh, to hell with that too." Despite his harsh words, just knowing that they were on the same page now was enough to give him some hope. "Sorry. I do all the running and you do all the hiding, does that work for you?"
He didn't wait for her reply and loaded the gun again, this time doing it very fast even though his hands were still shaking.
"You do all the running? I fail to understand you." She said as she stood up to take a peek at the enemies, just to recoil in fear and add, "Explain yourself fast, they are losing the fear of your loud gun."
"Sure." He grasped his backpack bottom and overturned it, emptying its contents in a quick motion. With all the items on the ground, Nathan only took the MLBCS and the little box with his drones that he promptly stored in his pocket. "We won't need any of that, which means my back will be free."
"Are you crazy, I am too heavy f-"
"You're not." Nathan was 6′3″, and he had the nanites ensuring he was as healthy as a human could be. This meant that the short Amara—the top of her head only reaching a little below his shoulder—was not a challenging weight for him to carry given her slender body.
Noticing the doubt in her gaze, he lowered his body even more, turning his back towards her in a way it would be easy for her to climb, hoping this would be all the push she needed.
"You take pleasure in testing my trust, do you not?" The tone of her voice hinted at her reluctance, but she still draped her arms over his shoulder, securing her grip in a way her claws wouldn't hurt him.
Even though they had a plan now, Nathan still felt a chill down his spine at the thought of what he would have to do. And despite knowing that he had taken everything he needed, he anxiously patted down his pocket the make sure the box with the drones was there and remembered to take a handful of bullets, filling up his pockets as some of them fell to the ground.
"Ready?" He asked, trying to sound confident.
"See for yourself." Her tail wrapped around his belly, full of tiny black spots surrounded by purple as far as he could see.
Nathan took a few deep breaths and stood up, getting a glimpse of the many groups that were advancing from both sides, trying to surround them.
It didn't even take him a full second before he started firing his revolver indiscriminately at them while his legs moved on their own, not even waiting for his eyes to decide which path he would take.
Amara's weight escaped his thoughts completely, replaced by the fear evoked by the faint noise of metal breaking the sound barrier around them as soon they left the protection of the tent.
He didn't spare a single glance behind, running downhill at full throttle with bursts of adrenalin fueling his speed. He outran the reach of their guns quite fast, hurdling fallen brunches and putting not only distance but also several tree trunks between them and the hostile force behind.
With Amara's solid grip and occasional shifting of her weight to prove that she was fine, Nathan kept his pace as his muscles burned with exertion.
For a little over ten minutes he kept going, jumping over protruding roots and ducking beneath low-hanging branches. But this couldn't go on forever and eventually, he stopped to catch his breath, bending forward and letting go of items in his hand as Amara released her grip to stand on her own two feet.
His breath was coming in ragged bursts, but that didn't keep him from starting to laugh as he stared at her, whose eyes were gentle and her entire body was filled with hints of yellow.
In a split-second though, her whole demeanor changed, all the yellow giving way to purple and red.
She asked a single question, "Is that device of yours supposed to release smoke?"
The tip of her tail was pointing at the MLBCS, which now had a small hole in it from where a whisp of smoke curled upwards, just like a candle after its flame had been extinguished.
Nathan shook his head and touched his forehead; a single word left his mouth, "Fuck."
***
This was an account based on what Nathan did during the first hour of the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
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Hello, I am not as big into keyboards as I used to be so I am clearing out some inventory. All of the boards below have been used minimally and mostly used for display or stored away. Prices are OBO and includes shipping and Paypal fees. CONUS only.
Geonworks F2-84 - $550
Silver with r1 mirror weights No scratches, barely used. Slight patina on the inside portion of the weight 1 x Hotswap Hiney PCB + DB Extra case screws 1 x Unused v1 alu plate 1 x Unused PC plate 1 x Set of silver rubber feet 1 x Plateless kit set 1 x Geonworks carrying case
Jris 75 - $310
Milky White BNIB Black PVD Keycap and Badge - Unmounted and unused 1 x Hotswap PCB + DB 1 x EVA Foam pack 1 x Poron Foam pack 1 x POM plate All gaskets and tools that came with the GB 1 x USB-A to C cable 1 x Carrying Case
Createkeebs Venice Rialto - $510
Champagne Gold Keyboard is factory sealed and unopened. Accessories box was opened to check that no parts were missing 2 x Hotswap PCB 1 x Alu plate
Owlabs Chalice - $415
Silver top with mirror bottom Barely used, no scratches, protective film still on bottom Can include Gateron CJ linear switches (shown in timestamp) for additional $10 2 x Hotswap PCB 2 x DB 1 x Alu plate 1 x FR4 plate Case Foam PE + plate foam 2 x 3U wires unused + extra screws and gaskets 1 x Owlabs Carrying case
Mode Eighty 2022 (built) - $375
E-white top + Grey bottom No scratches and barely used Includes Lubed Novelkeys Cream Dream switches + Lubed and tuned stabies + Mode Anthracite Keycaps full set (no shine, will arrive built) 1 x Hotswap PCB (used in build) 1 x POM plate (used in build) 1 x Mode carrying case
Swagkeys Transition TKL + Wristrest - $570
Beige No scratches, barely used
Hotswap PCBStabs included
1 x Alu Sandwich mount plate
1 x CF Gasket mount plate
1 x PP Top mount plate
Foams, screws, gaskets all includedCarrying case + cleaning cloth
Any of the switches/keycaps bundles are not sold individually. Happy to take additional pictures if you need. I can provide a local discount if you're in the Denver Tech Center area and are willing to pick up in person. Also PMs and no chats, please. Thanks for reading!

My parents are generally caring folks who have admittedly gone above and beyond for their three kids, more so than the vast majority of parents I think. But they aren't flawless and refuse to acknowledge their imperfections, some of which I deem as abusive. So tell me, Reddit, based of this list, are my folks abusive or not?
Had a small chair smashed over my head by Dad for getting into an argument with my sister.
Woken up in the middle of the night by Mum and had the living shit beaten in me in bed after she went through my phone and saw me exchanging mild terrorist jokes with my friend on WhatsApp.
Belted several times by Mum, such as for talking to two strangers about my personal life due to "Stranger Danger" when I was about 10.
Belted several times by Dad, such as for getting into arguments with my siblings.
Smacked in the head by Mum multiple times, such as for accidentally miswriting something on a homework report or being unable to tell the time in my preteens.
Pinched multiple times by either of my parents for various misdeeds, such as not wanting to take my shirt off during a family outdoor activity in the spring or innocently behaving inappropriately as a kid.
For various other misdeeds, I've been kicked, violently shaken like a rag doll, beaten with a wooden spoon, had something thrown at me, forced to kneel on the floor and raise my arms up in the air until told otherwise, made to stay outside the house in the wind wearing a shirt and shorts and I don't remember who said exactly, but I think I recall one of my folks threatening that they might not be able to control themselves if they're sufficiently pissed off.
If I showed a hint of resistance towards Mum's physical discipline by reflexively protecting myself, she'd guilt-trip me by saying, "So now's come the time when the son does the abusing, eh?" even though I would never and was nowhere to retaliating on Mum, only shielding myself. Even at age 21, when I confronted her about unwarranted physical discipline, she defended herself by claiming that I only focused on the negatives and never the positives of their parenting and she doesn't regret anything she ever did to me and that even if I was aged 24, she would still dole out the physical punishment if she wanted to. When I said I won't let her touch me, she once again asked me if this meant I was going to start beating her back. I said I'd never lay a hand on her nor had I even thought of doing so, it's just that I wouldn't let her touch me, that's it. She asked what if she were to throw a shoe at me, would I throw the shoe back at her and I said no, I'd just keep a distance from her and she lost all control and started berating me for being an ungrateful son, etc
Mum was continually interrupting my conversation with Dad over the phone, causing me to tell her that I'm trying to talk on the phone, but which she misinterpreted as me telling her to shup up or something, resulting in her immediately getting physical with me.
Mum was continuously making fun of something I wrote in a book, causing me to smack the book out of her hand in anger, which she beated me for and locked me up in my room.
Had Dad being angry and yelling at me to stop crying during shower time as he doused me with cold water (which I absolutely hated) when I was about 5-6 after we actually enjoyed a sweaty game of football with some local kids, which soured the experience for me and made me reluctant to play football outside again since the only way I could play was if I had either of my folks with me.
One summer vacation, we were at the beach in the sea, and Dad was trying to take me to the deeper levels despite me being very uncomfortable as I couldn't swim properly yet, resulting in me almost drowning when he left me to it.
In my later teens, Dad would frequently get me to help him out in incredibly strenuous activities which would often completely physically drain me, both at the house refurbishment and our up-and-coming shop, to the point where the neighbouring shopkeepers who saw how tirelessly I worked for him expressed concern by telling him to go a bit easy on me and at least pay me for my efforts, which he addressed by asking me "Don't they know you're my son?" I never once complained or declined his requests to help out since I knew we were tight on money and Dad was making use of all the free help he could get. My only issues were some instances of potential abuse, such as when he got angry and started yelling at me to perform a task that I genuinely didn't understand how to do. I remember pleading with him to help me understand, but he just continued to get frustrated and scaring the shit out of me. Or this other time where after a hard day's work at building our shop, I didn't immediately acknowledge something Dad said to me, leading him to berate me for my supposed social blunder. When he just wouldn't let up, I then proceeded to remind him of a social blunder he once committed, causing him to punch me in the face and berate me more until we got home. When we arrived home, I was offered dinner which I declined solely because I was uncomfortable being around him and so wanted to immediately go to bed, but he forced me to sit right next to me while he shot a death glare at me, which I interpreted as him asserting his dominance over me.
Dad could be very short-tempered and erratic on occasion, to the point where I would feel like I was walking on eggshells around him at times, such as when I woke up one morning and greeted him with a casual "Hellooo" that had a bit of a drawl to it and he suddenly froze up and looked at me with a death glare and I quickly apologised, scolding me for laying my sizeable head back on the sofa while he spoke to me, scolding us if me or my siblings said "Excuse me" if he was in our way in the house since apparently that was too formal and not something you'd say to a family member (especially a father), or if we forgot to say "Good Morning" to him after waking up. I've actually had to appeal to Mum to ask him to control his temper on a couple of occasions and as a result I feel like I can never truly relax around him.
On multiple occasions, I've been forced to eat something even if I didn't want to.
I had a bedwetting problem for most of my life. One time when I was about 5, Dad woke me up in the middle of the night to discover that I'd once again wet the bed. He angrily told me to get up, told me to face the wall and remain in that position in my piss-stained clothes as punishment while he changed my bed and made me go back to bed again.
I have noticeable bumps on my foreheads which I remember where obtained from hitting my head on the ground as a toddler but which Mum claims are just natural or something, which I interpret as gaslighting.
Mum accused Dad of cheating on her, but he proved he wasn't. Years later when I enquired as to what their fight was about she told me the truth (that it was a misunderstanding over his fidelity) which I suspected. When I brought it up again later, however, she totally lied about it for some reason, which I again see as gaslighting.
When Mum caught me watching porn for the first time ever, she berated me by asking whether this also means I would like to see her or my sister naked.
When I was a kid, Dad tried to manipulate me one time when I told him I wanted to make cartoons in the future and he said that job was for a software engineer.
A lot of their advice was to turn myself over to God. Thing is, I no longer believe in God so that advice was falling on deaf ears and I am scared of coming out to them as an atheist.
After deceiving my parents for two years about my online learning, while it was justified to an extent, Dad really let me have it, telling me in no uncertain terms every opportunity he had how extremely let down he was, how he'd never seen anything like this happen anywhere in his entire life (he was 55 at this point) and how my deception and failure were among the two biggest tragedies/disappointments in his life, the other being the civil war raging in our homeland Ethiopia. Mind you this civil war resulted in the genocide of thousands upon thousands of our ethnic tribe the Tigrayans. He would also say that he's so angry but he can't beat me to let it out because I'm an adult now (I was 20 at the time), so he's forced to stew helplessly in his own anger.
They were pretty strict, restrictive and judgmental folks and could be overbearing. Mum would never let me visit another person's house without them having visited ours first, as she explicitly explained so herself and even that was a moot point because she didn't want any peer of mine coming over anyway, so none of my peers came over to my house (until I was 18 and that was because I showed up home with him unexpected and practically begged her to let him come in) and I'd never been to anyone else's house (apart from Sasha's and that was without her knowledge or consent). She forbade all social media apart from WhatsApp and even that I always used in secret when texting people since I knew she'd find some way to be judgemental about it. She wouldn't let me go play football with my friends if she didn't drive me over there herself so she would know the location and even that was reluctantly expressed. Throughout our teens, she forbade TV on the weekdays save for Friday, which she would brag about to her friends, and very rarely let me hang out with others after school for a social outing, discounting the after school badminton club on Thursdays in my mid teens which took place at school Though I guess this could once again be chalked up to being money-conscious, but also being overly distrustful of everyone in the UK. Dad could also get like this, such as making us do school work on Friday after school or insisting on cutting my fingernails even as he was making me bleed .
They both generally either discouraged or outright forbade any interest in fantasy, which included things like Mum eventually forbidding me from reading Harry Potter, berating and almost getting physical with me for watching a Bond film with my siblings when I was about 14 and just when I thought she couldn't possibly find an angle to criticise on me watching My Little Pony she reproached me for a kiss scene that took place. This trait of theirs got completely overblown after my little brother's nervous breakdown, causing Dad to completely ban our former interests in comic books and Naruto, reprimand me for watching 13 Going on 30 and disapprove of us playing FIFA, to the point where I genuinely felt like I couldn't enjoy anything when around them. They would also criticise us a lot for relatively minor things and their lectures could be excruciatingly long, spanning hours. They also had next to no concept of privacy, entering our rooms without ever knocking (unless they knew we were changing) and confiscating our phones a couple times for no real reason whatsoever.
All this has led to me being incredibly sneaky about what I do. I never let them see me with my phone, only ever using it out of their eyesight and I routinely deleted shit stored up on it in case they randomly needed my phone, which they would. I also became adept at lying as well as identifying footsteps. I think due to the sort of parenting they employed, I was very anxious and scared during these particular events:
My primary school teacher once lent me her Harry Potter DVD box set and I didn’t even get past the first film from great fear that Mum would catch me watching it and get angry
During one summer vacation back to our homeland the plan was that Dad would remain in the UK for a bit while the rest of us would go to our country before he joined us. I knew that Harry Potter would be running on some of the TV channels in the UK and throughout the portion of the summer holiday where Dad was still in the UK, which was several weeks, I was deathly afraid of him watching the films and finding out that this was what I liked.
If I remember correctly, I also recall being taught how to masturbate by my babysitter when I was about 3-4 (which I've been doing ever since and I'm now 21), which I've never told anyone and would count as sexual abuse, right?
My little brother has also experienced the below:
Got the living shit beaten out of him by Mum after he was tricked by his friends into writing "fuck" on a whiteboard. He didn't even know what it meant, but I could hear his pitiful wails and screams coming from the bedroom where Mum was beating him.
He accidentally tripped and broke a stair pillar while we were organising the shoe room once, causing Mum to lose it and get physical with him. When I brought this up with Dad years later, Mum either lied about the events or didn't recall it well, the former which I interpret as another round of gaslighting.
He's also been pinched and smacked on the head several times.
So... what do you think, Reddit?

Hi! This question may seem a bit trivial but I always like to know what to expect at an airport. Specifically, I like to understand what to do when it comes to what I need to take out of my carry on and place in a bin. I read that Athens airport requires taking out what seems like everything (keys, glasses, electronics, etc). Is this the experience everyone else has had?
This would be nearly all of my carry on contents besides some snacks and a change of clothes. Does anyone have tips on how to make this a quick process without losing or damaging anything?

Less of a question, more of a rant.
This past weekend I was at my local store, waiting in line to check out and was standing in front of the conveyor getting ready to move forward and place my groceries on top of it when the person behind me accused me of cutting in line. I thought he was joking as I had been waiting for what seemed to be 15-20 minutes but he started to move my cart out of the way. We started going back and forth but then he started insulting me once the shopper behind him and and the shopper in front of me stated that they didn't remember seeing me after he had asked them. He goes on to tell me "You need to move yo bitch ass up on outta here." I reply "I don't want any problems with you but you don't gotta insult me like that." After that is when he squares up to me and starts hiking his shorts up and I knew he was ready to swing. I put my cart in between us and said "Alright, you got it." And went to another line.
I know I did the right thing to de-escalate the situation and looking back I feel like I couldn't have done much to change his mind, especially since he was ready to fight over him thinking that I'm cutting in line. He had 2 kids with him, couldn't have been older than 4. I was monumentally pissed off because he wasn't setting a good example for his children, wasn't willing to talk like a fucking adult and wanted to pop off without any principle while I was carrying 15+1. There was no immediate threat to my life but I believe walking away was the right choice, avoid it if you can help it but man it really pissed me off because he was either blind as hell, angry for no reason or both.

I have a fast food place a little over a mile from my house. It’s an easy ride and I hate driving…. But, if I go, I always bring it back before eating. How do y’all carry fountain drinks, slushies, etc. with one of those dome tops that is not fully sealed? When I go to the grocery store, I just bring a backpack and it works great, but I have not been brave enough to try something like fast food drinks.

My corgi has always been “a lot.” Barking, jumping, typical corgi things (although I personally believe my girl (3 year old F) probably has more stamina than most).
But then there was the unusual. Barking at familiar objects that were suddenly out of place (a coat, a box of diet coke, a purse, etc.). Barking at the shower any time it turned on. Jumping and snapping at my clothes if I danced or did a jerky unexpected move or yelped at a spider (very specific, I know). Barking when I seperated myself from her, especially if there was someone else in the house (putting her to bed at night [around 9-10pm] so my partner and I could watch a little TV undisturbed). All of these things were frustrating, sure, but manageable.
Last September (09/23), my partner moved in with me officially. He and my dog spent loads of time together, often cuddling in bed or on the couch. Their relationship seemed so strong that it got to the point of us joking that my dog preferred him to me.
Prior to him moving in we had been working with a trainer to figure out how my dog ticks, and how we might get her to bark at us a little less. The training, in all honesty, seemed very basic despite it being a lengthy and expensive program. Commands my dog already knew, games for mental stimulation that we were already playing, etc. One of the issues we had been facing was putting her to bed at night when she didn’t want to go. At times, it could be a whole production filled with coaxing and bribing to get her into her crate. We tried different treats, different beds, but for the most part she really seemed to pick and choose when she wanted to go in and when she wanted to rebel. Eventually, the trainer suggested we stop crating her. If she really didn’t want to go into the crate, why were we forcing her? When the trainer posed that question, the best I could answer was that in my personal research, it was important for dogs to be crate trained so they could self-soothe. The trainer said if the dog didn’t want to go in, then it wasn’t soothing to her and could possibly be fueling her other behaviors.
We didn’t feel super comfortable at first and eventually the training sessions ended with our girl still not always wanting to go in. Eventually, we threw up our hands and said “let’s try it.”
For two weeks, we didn’t crate her at bedtime. Sometimes I’d hear her pacing at night, and in the mornings there would sometimes be an accident somewhere in the house (very unusual for my trained dog). We noticed she seemed a little… edgy? But not to the point where we really suspected anything could go wrong.
Until she attacked my partner in December (12/23). It took us both by surprise and my partner was terrified (he’s been attacked by a dog once previously and carries a lot of anxiety around it). The two of them were best buds, we couldn’t (and still can’t) wrap our heads around this change. The attacks consisted of our girl running full speed at my partner, jumping, growling, snarling, snapping at him.
When this happened, we immediately jumped into action. We started crating her at night again. We contacted her vet, she got a clean bill of health. We contacted a new trainer and got on their calendar. We contacted a veterinary behaviorist and began trials of new medications.
Unfortunately, the first attack was not the last one. They picked up in frequency to the point where my partner and my dog could not be in the same space together, or she would attack him. We baby gated the house to keep them seperate. I would sit on one half of the room with my dog (to keep her calm), and he would sit on the other. We were miserable.
During this time we tried multiple medications. My dog had already been on fluoxetine with no perceivable impact. We tried gabopentin, clonidine, and are now about to try sertraline.
Eventually we got in with the new trainer at their board & train program. I know these programs are a bit controversial, but we needed to see change and were desperate. Plus, the idea of having our girl being observed by a professional trainer full-time was appealing. Maybe this level of time could give the trainer insight into what the problem is and how to best care for her.
About a week and a half after we got her back, she regressed. I had sent her to her crate as part of a training excercise and was on my way to close the gate when my partner walked by. She bolted out of her crate, bounded across the room and over our couch to start jumping and snapping at his arm.
Thankfully, muzzle training was part of this new program. She wears one full time when she’s outside of the crate because we simply can’t predict when it will happen. My partner has never been physically hurt by her, even in the original attacks (he wears thick denim jeans, so skin was never broken). But, the anxiety and fear of never knowing when she’ll attack has been pretty detrimental to his mental health.
We don’t know what to do anymore. We’re at the end of our ropes. We have no idea why she’ll be friendly and cuddling with him one moment, and lunging/growling at him the next.
If you were me, what would you do next? What options do we have?

There have been a couple of posts and comments recently regarding what does or doesn't have 'SPIRIT' or can or can't be classed as 'ANIMIST'
Position: My Animist Perspective: Everything Has Spirit
Scenario: As animists, we want to eat the meat of some type of antlered deer in a ceremony and also use the antlers for various purposes (personal ornaments, decorations, tools, etc).
For this to occur, a farmer or a Hunter is needed. The items that are needed to humanely cull and process an ungulate deer.
The farmer or hunter cull a stag to harvest both meat and antlers.
The hunter uses a firearm and ammunition and the farmer may use the same or an electric/hydraulic bolt or perhaps even a steel knife to dispatch the animal humanely. The ammunition for the rifle contains, lead, brass, composite alloys, chrome, gunpowder (chemicals), and electricity.
The rifle is made from various types of metal, metal alloys, hardwoods farmed and exotic, plastics, fibreglass, rubber, glues, chemicals, glass if a scope is attached, lasers, batteries, electricity, etc.
The steel bolt is made from metal, metal alloys, plastic, composite rubbers, chemicals, and electricity. The knife is made from metal, metal alloys, hardwoods farmed and exotic, plastics, fibreglass, rubber, glues, chemicals, electricity, and if kept in a sheath leather, nylon chemical plastics.
Also, don't forget everything associated with the refrigeration of the meat. The packaging for everything. The electronic and paper products are used for advertising. The manufacturing distribution and administration buildings. The transportation vehicles include all the metal, plastic, rubber, oil, chemicals, electricity, etc. The people involved - their housing, food, clothing, medications, etc.
The infrastructure for producing all of the power necessary for the above - electricity, hydro, coal, uranium, geothermal, solar, tidal.
etc, etc, etc.
My Animist Perspective: Everything Has Spirit
From an animist viewpoint, the belief that all entities—animate and inanimate—possess a spiritual essence is central. This perspective imbues every element of the scenario described with a sense of interconnected spirituality. Here, I present a detailed and compelling positive argument that everything involved in the process of culling and utilising an antlered deer for ceremonial purposes belongs to the realm of animism.
The Deer and Its Spirit
In animism, the deer is not merely an animal but a being with a spirit. The stag embodies strength, grace, and the cyclical nature of life. The meat and antlers are gifts from the deer's spirit, offered in a ceremonial context to Honor its life and essence. The act of culling the deer, therefore, is not just a hunt but a sacred exchange, acknowledging the deer's spirit and its contribution to human sustenance and culture.
The Hunter and the Farmer
The hunter and the farmer, as facilitators of this process, are seen as mediators between the human community and the spiritual world of the deer. Their skills, tools, and knowledge are not just practical assets but are imbued with their own spirits. The hunter's connection to the deer through the hunt is a deeply spiritual bond, one that respects the life of the deer and acknowledges its spirit.
The Tools of the Hunt
* Firearm and Ammunition: Each component of the firearm and ammunition—the metals, wood, plastics, and chemicals—has its own spirit. The metal alloys are born from the earth, the hardwoods from the forests, and the chemicals from complex natural processes. The firearm, as a composite entity, carries the spirits of all its parts, combined into a tool that serves a sacred purpose.
* Steel Bolt and Knife: Similarly, steel bolts and knives are more than mere tools. The metals used in their creation have been shaped and transformed, their spirits forged to create instruments of humane dispatch. The wood, rubber, and other materials each bring their own spiritual essence to these tools, making them part of the ceremonial act.
The Process and the Ritual
The act of culling the deer is a ritualistic one, steeped in respect and spiritual significance. The hunter's or farmer's actions are guided by a profound understanding of the balance between taking life and honouring it. This process is a form of communication with the spirits of the tools, the deer, and the natural world.
The Role of Technology and Infrastructure
Even the technology and infrastructure involved in processing, preserving, and transporting the meat and antlers are seen through an animistic lens:
* Refrigeration and Packaging: The machinery and materials used in refrigeration and packaging are composites of various natural elements. The metals, plastics, chemicals, and electricity all carry the spirits of their origins. These spirits contribute to the preservation of the deer's gifts, ensuring they remain viable for ceremonial use.
* Transportation and Buildings: The vehicles, buildings, and infrastructure involved in the distribution process are also imbued with spirit. The metals and plastics in vehicles, the materials in buildings, and the energy sources (electricity, coal, uranium, etc.) all possess spiritual essences derived from the natural world. The interconnectedness of these elements ensures the respectful and efficient handling of the deer's gifts.
The Human Element
The people involved in this process—the hunter, farmer, workers, and consumers—each carry their own spirits. Their interactions with the deer, the tools, and the infrastructure are part of a larger spiritual network. Their homes, food, clothing, and medications are also seen as having spirits, derived from the earth and other natural sources.
Energy Sources and the Natural World
Finally, the sources of power—electricity, hydro, coal, uranium, geothermal, solar, and tidal—are manifestations of the earth's spirit. Each energy source, whether harnessed from water, wind, sun, or the depths of the earth, contributes its spiritual essence to the process. This interconnected web of spiritual energy sustains the entire chain of activities.
Conclusion
From my animist perspective, every element involved in the culling and utilisation of an antlered deer is imbued with spirit. This worldview sees the interconnectedness of all things, recognising the spiritual essence in the deer, the tools, the technology, the infrastructure, and the people. Each component plays a sacred role in the ritual, contributing to a holistic understanding of life, death, and the spiritual continuum. This deep respect for the spirits of all entities fosters a harmonious relationship with the natural world, emphasising the reverence and interconnectedness that are central to animism.
References

1. Bird-David, Nurit. "Animism Revisited: Personhood, Environment, and Relational Epistemology." *Annual Review of Anthropology* 21 (2023): 67-91.
2. Harvey, Graham. *Animism: Respecting the Living World*. London: Hurst & Company, 2017.
3. Van Eyghen, Hans. "Animism and Science." *Religions* 14, no. 5 (2023): 653. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel14050653.
4. Astor-Aguilera, Miguel. "Animism and Materiality: Relational Ontologies and Practices." *Religious Studies Review* 44, no. 2 (2018): 139-147.
5. High, Casey. "Waorani Perspectives on Animal Spirits and the Agency of Shamans." *Journal of Anthropological Research* 73, no. 1 (2017): 129-147.
6. Fienup-Riordan, Ann, and Alice Rearden. *Yuungnaqpiallerput: The Real Person of the Ancestors: An Ethnohistory of the Cup'ik Eskimos of Nelson Island, Alaska*. Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 2016.
7. Skvirskaja, Vera. "The Sacred Space of the Nenets Tundra: Rituals and Practices." *Journal of Siberian Studies* 15, no. 3 (2022): 147-159.
8. Chidester, David. "Animism and Religion: Material Dynamics." *Religion* 48, no. 1 (2018): 85-97.
9. Tylor, Edward Burnett. *Primitive Culture*. New York: Harper & Row, 1871.
10. Hallowell, A. Irving. "Ojibwa Ontology, Behavior, and Worldview." In *Readings in Indigenous Religions*, edited by Graham Harvey, 17-49. London: Continuum, 2002.

These references provide a comprehensive academic basis for understanding animism in the context of both traditional and contemporary practices, emphasising the interconnectedness and spiritual significance of all elements involved in the described scenario.

I live down south, & it is HOT already. In store has some of the worst maternity clothes I’ve seen. Any recommendations on brands that also have plus size options?? It’s 90°+ all this week 😭😭

Hello!

At the beginning of the year, we kicked off a series of events to celebrate... well a number of things! The subreddit growth is insane, so we hit 10 million subscribers while we were just finishing up celebrating 9 million...

But we started that celebration with a new Essay and Video contest! I'm happy to announce that after a long series of deliberations, we're ready to announce your winners! First and foremost, I want to congratulate everyone on producing such wonderful submissions. I and the other judges absolutely enjoyed reading/watching them, and I hope this encourages you to create more. I'm always here for what limited guidance I can give.
Reminder: Prizes are funded through Reddit's Community Funds program! The top 3 positions will receive gift cards to Crunchyroll's (formerly RightStuf) store! Please, I would love to see what you're going to purchase with them.

Writing Contest

1st Place: In This Corner of the World: Agency, The Past, and The Paths We Did Not Choose by VelaryonAu

VelaryonAu hits it out of the park with this essay. It stays true to the theme, starting strong and continuing that quality until the end. Much like Suzu's life, it expertly moves from point to point, example to example, all the while using succinct and pleasant prose. We all enjoyed every second of reading this piece and we think you will too. VelaryonAu wins a $200 gift card.

2nd Place: Gunslinger Girl and Confronting the Posthuman by paukshop

Paukshop delivers an essay that exemplifies the reason why we keep the themes for these contests vague, with it being a clever examination of a beloved classic under a unique lens. This is probably one of the best structured essays we received, clearly laying out step by step how each relationship in the show may evoke different interpretations of the posthuman. Its broad coverage and almost academic nature earn it 2nd place, winning a $100 gift card.

3rd Place: Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Eternal by baquea

As expected from a fan of Madoka Magica, and much like the show itself, this essay is dense with meaning. Baquea's prose ebbs and flows—sentences sometimes stretching out into labyrinthian snakes or curving back around into pointed statements. Regardless of what you think about the show or the writing style, this essay makes itself heard. Its clear passion and depth of knowledge towards the subject earns it a $50 gift card.

Videos

1st Place: Heavenly Delusion: Body Horror, Gender, & Transformation by thedman1954

This video is not only laser focused, it utilizes the video format pretty near to its fullest potential. The subject matter is exciting and engrossing, and it serves to be a vessel for the feel of the show itself. Editing is a strong point, using slick transitions and title cards to further illustrate key points. A nearly flawless entry earns it first place and a $200 gift card.

2nd Place: Blue Reflection Ray ( I Want to Change!) by thegajumaru

Thegajumaru's "[Blue Reflection Ray] I Want to Change!" starts off in a peculiar way, but I think one of the best things about the video format is that you can experiment and be eclectic and maybe... go off on a completely non-anime tangent about Star Wars before jumping into your real topic of Blue Reflection Ray. The most notable thing about this video is just how watchable it is. It flows from point to point with ease—both the editing and script leading the viewer along, almost unbeknownst to them just how entertained they are along the way. This addicting quality earns thegajumaru a $100 gift card.

3rd Place: Grief in To your Eternity by paukshop

Pauk digs into a core concept of To Your Eternity in this video, following the throughline of how our main character almost literally carries their grief for their friends and family with them. My personal notes on the video mention quote, "it's quite to the point and the point is strong," and in a sea of videos that are stretched out as long as they can for monetary's sake—it's a breath of fresh air. One of the hardest things to do in a contest like this is coming up with a concept that fits/subverts the theme, but pauk combining literal as well as metaphorical transformations, as well as adding a small personal touch, really elevates this video. He gets a nice $50 gift card for his efforts (in addition to his essay win!).
That's that! Congratulations to our winners, but also to everyone who managed to sneak in a submission. Please view the round-up of EVERYTHING here. I love seeing well thought out posts to the sub, whether that be in essay or video format. If you have any ideas on how to encourage this content, let me or the rest of the mod team know. Oh and also, if you submitted an entry and would like some brief notes on what we thought, message the moderators or PM me!
Winners, expect to receive a PM asking to confirm some information, and then accept your prize!
Thanks all!

• Kizer Mini Sheepdog Button Lock Timestamp/Album - $60 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
New never cut or carried. Never disassembled or sharpened. 154cm coated steel with aluminum black scales. Button lock centered and smooth action. Comes with box and docs.
• Spyderco PM2 M4 CF Timestamp/Album - $170 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Light use cut and carried. Cut some boxes. M4 steel and carbon fiber scales. Blade has light hints of patina shown in pics. One scuff on show side scale. Action is smooth and slightly off center. Comes with box and docs.
• UPDATED TIMESTAMP FOR ALL BELOW
• Toor Chasm XLT Timestamp/Album - $190 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo cashapp USA
Catch and release. Second owner. I have not disassembled or sharpened it. Cut one box. I don’t know much about Toor and not sure the steel. Carbon fiber show scale which is super grippy. Thick blade stock! Snaps out and centered. Comes with box, card, and cloth.
• Kizer Megatherium & Minitherium Timestamp/Album - PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Megatherium Blackwash - $130 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Minitherium - $55 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Blackwashed Megatherium: Second owner. Light use and carried. Looks like it was sharpened. Not sure on disassembly. S35VN blackwashed blade and titanium body. Smooth action centered. Does not have box or pouch. Small snail trail on clip shown in pics.
Minitherium: Second owner. Light use and carried. I factory edge I think and maybe disassembled. S35VN stonewashed steel and carbon fiber body. Liner lock. Snail trails on clip. Smooth and centered. Does not have box or pouch.
• Spyderco Amalgam Timestamp/Album - $170 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
New never cut or carried. Never disassembled or sharpened. S30v steel with CF scales. Action is smooth and centered. Comes with box and docs.
• Tactile Knife Co Chupacabra Timestamp/Album - $235 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA.
Catch and release. Had to debur it when it arrived. Never disassembled. Magnacut satin steel with black aluminum scales. The satin on the blade is very pleasant. Action smooth and centered using the spine lock (shark lock?). Comes with box and CoA (born 4/24/2024).
• Kizer T1 Timstamp/Album - $90 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Light use cut and carried. Never disassembled and lightly sharpened on a medium stone. S35VN steel and titanium scales. A couple very light snail trails. Action is smooth and I think centered. Comes with box and docs and pouch.
• Bestech Tulip Timestamp/Album - $90 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Maybe carried once or twice and maybe cut paper. Never disassembled or sharpened. Has been sitting in my knife drawer for a long time. M390 steel and blurple scales. Front flipper smooth action (it’s a tiny knife, need finger dexterity) and centered. Comes with box docs and pouch.
• Kizer Mini Sheepdog 10v Timestamp/Album - $50 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
New never cut or carried. Never disassembled or sharpened. 10v coated steel with soft black micarta. Action is smooth and centered. Comes with box and docs.
• Kizer Huntsmen Timestamp/Album - $155 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Cut 3 boxes and carried once. Never disassembled or sharpened. S35VN steel with titanium and carbon fiber inlay. Action is smooth and centered. The holes are meant to symbolize the eyes of the Huntsmen spider! There’s a small mark on the spine of the blade near the tip and came like that. Comes with box and docs and pouch.
• McNees Mac 2 3” Timestamp/Album - $375 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
Carried and cut a few boxes. Professionally sharpened by a Mr. Kim. Was hair whittling sharp, now is just very sharp. I did adjust the pivot and used blue loctite. The action is super smooth fall shut. XHP steel in a polished stonewash finish. Centered and a beauty with MXG deep carry clip and original in box. Comes with box and certificate.
• Vosteed Rook Timestamp/Album - $45 PayPal F&F or Zelle Venmo Cashapp USA
New never carried. Charged battery and turn on a few times. I have the titanium version which I carry so this one has been sitting on the desk. Nichia 519a led (4000k, 95+ CRI I believe) and red aluminum body. Comes with battery/cell, usb cord and o-rings and metal can.

I’ve heard many people say NOW brand is clean and great oils but one whiff of most of them and I can smell things that aren’t right. I’m hoping some of you have a favorite brand that you can grab on the spur of the moment. Thank you so much in advance. Just FYI I’m located in California….🙏🏻

Third Chapter! I'm having a blast writing this. If you enjoy it, then make sure to like it and give me any feedback you have. I'm grateful for all of it!
Prev First
I was cold, my feet hurt, and I felt even sicker than before. The boreal path stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, the pale sunlight having no effect on me due to the sense, misty fog. Every breath felt like ice, and I could see my breath in front of me, condensed and almost viscous.
I had been waking for at least an hour by now, following the path to wherever it led. This place couldn't be empty, right? There was a tomb built here, so that meant there had to be some kind of civilization nearby, or at least the remnants of it. Even if it was abandoned, I'd kill to have a roof over my head to sleep under.
I wanted to lay down and sleep, but I knew that if I didn't get warm soon I'd die of hypothermia, so I had to keep trudging on. Besides, I was in the deep wilderness, in this place that I knew nothing about, and I wasn't going to risk getting eaten by some wild animal, or worse.
So I trudged on. The sun rose further in the sky after what seemed like an eternity, and the fog cleared up a bit. Birds sang, trees rattled and shook from the wind, and the air became bearable. I still felt awful, but at least it wasn't frigid out anymore and I would feel better eventually. I wanted to sit down so badly, to find a way to start a fire and get some heat into my bones, but I kept going. I needed to keep going. I needed to know what the hell was going on, and I'd rather find some place to sleep that had a roof and even a bed if I was lucky.
I kept thinking while I walked, in an attempt to entertain myself over what seemed like an endless journey. Who was I? I didn't know who I was, or where I was from, or if I even had a name! All I knew is that I was in the body of this weird lizard… dragon… horned thing, and it felt all wrong. The forked tongue in my mouth felt too weird, I was taller than I thought I should have been, and I was definitely stronger than what a human should have been, if I was even a human before. I think that since I defaulted to assuming that my new strength was more than what a human would have instead of any other race, I must have been human before, right? What other races were there, anyway? What if there were only humans here and I was just a freak of nature?
What if I was the only person in this world? What if everything was gone? That couldn't be the case, right? That tomb implied there were people who had been alive at one point to build it. But they could all be dead now…
Okay, that was enough of me being alone with my thoughts. I decided that, if I was going to keep myself sane, I'd have to do something productive to distract myself from the implications of everything going on around me. It was time to consult the useless journal.
I pulled it out and opened it to the page where we had our last conversation, still irritated by how vague it could be. But I pushed that to the side as I pulled out the quill and began to concentrate as I wrote down a question. Where do I go?
Nothing happened for a moment, but eventually my hand moved on its own, scribbling down an answer in the same elegant cursive as before. Follow the path.
That isn't helpful. I wrote back, frustrated. There was another pause, then more furious scribbling.
You asked a question. I answered it. Be more specific next time.
You’re an asshole. I wrote down, snarling. This time, there was no response, nor was there any movement in my hand. The journal remained uncommunicative.
Why didn't you respond? I asked next, surprised that the journal had been silent. More scribbling followed.
I answer questions. Insults are not questions.
I became even angrier at that, knowing my words didn't really affect the journal. Why can't you be more helpful? I wrote down, just to see what the journal would say.
I am only truly helpful to those who are capable of helping themselves.
It took a moment for my emotions to register, but when they did they appeared as a burst of unbridled rage. With a draconic roar, I threw the journal at the closest tree, causing it to elicit a loud thwap as leather hit bark before it fell to the ground. I turned and stomped away, grumbling, just hoping to leave the journal there. Then I looked down and noticed it was in my hand again.
“Wha-” I began, before realizing that the journal was in perfect condition, not even a single scuff. I grit my teeth and slipped it back into my bag with a sigh before returning to my walk,hoping that I'd find something eventually.
After some time, I finally heard it: running water. That must have been a good thing, because villages were usually nestled along some kind of water source. Even if it was a small village, it must have been a safe place because people were living there, and there were enough people to keep the wilderness at bay.
I rushed up the hill and down the path towards the sound, avoiding tripping over roots and rocks before reaching my destination. The creek was a few yards wide and at least a yard deep, so nothing huge, but it was fresh water. I had nothing to store water in, but I had a skin of beer so I wasn't worried about that. What I was interested in was the dirt path beyond this point seemed less faded and more worn, as if it was used more often. Most exciting, however, was a signpost with a few pointed signs hanging from it. There were two, in fact, one pointing to the left of me and the other one forward still, crossing a beaten and rickety wooden bridge that spanned the creek. The sign that pointed left read Forsvolkvr, which was just utterly incomprehensible to me. The other sign has a simple carved framing around the edge, so it might've been a more important place, and it read Ljosavatnsskaro… who in the hell named a place Ljosavatnsskaro? I couldn't even pronounce that right.
Needless to say, I went with Forsvolkvr.
The path led further downhill, into a sparser woodland that seemed more welcoming, and in the distance I saw it: a tiny village of maybe a dozen long huts, with either clapboard or mudbrick walls and thatched roofs. They didn't have chimneys, but they did have little openings at the top that allowed smoke from hearths to escape. Some houses were a bit bigger than others, but all of them were no bigger than a single story tall. As I approached, I noticed that there were people, honest to God people. Humans walked about, wearing pretty ragged clothes but still people nonetheless! I didn't think I had ever been so excited to see another person before, but then I remembered that I didn't actually remember a time before, so that didn't really mean much.
Most of the people I saw from a distance seemed to wear old, stained, and patched clothes: leather trousers stitched together along with long wool shirts and not much else. Some wore hats or pelt cloaks, and all of the men had thick beards, but most seemed to be exceptionally poor. Along with a few barren fields, there were little more than a few sheep and some chickens roaming the stumpy hills and knolls, so beyond the bounty creek I didn't know how this village even sustained itself.
As I approached the entrance of the village, which was a rickety little gate with a sign that simply read Forsvolkvr, people began to notice me, and I could immediately tell that it wouldn't be a positive reception. The adults pushed children into their homes, some picked up hatchets, and a few more had weapons of their own, mostly simple spears and rounded shields painted all sorts of colors with runic designs. One man came riding up on a horse, sword drawn and chainmail gleaming in the sunlight. “Halt, dragon-spawn, how dare you approach this village.” He was a younger man, maybe in his mid to late twenties, with a short beard, baby blue eyes, and golden blonde hair. He wore similar clothes to those around him, albeit a little less dirty and worn, and had a bear fur mantle on his neck, along with a silver circlet with a single ruby in the center that seemed to serve as a lowly crown. “Your kind are not welcome here!”
Great, so I was a freak of nature. I was hoping I was simply just another race in this world, but I suppose I couldn't be that lucky, now could I?
“I'm just looking for a place to rest,” I shouted back, lowering my sword to appear less intimidating. “I simply want to know if you have a place for me to stay: I'm willing to pay.”
“Are you deaf, dragon spawn?” He shouted as he forced his horse to halt, “Get out or I'll slit open your belly and expose your guts to the crows!”
Well, that wasn't good. I was exhausted and ill, but not so much that I was eager to take a dirt nap. And even if I was in peak condition, I was sure I couldn't take on this entire village nor did I want to since massacring otherwise innocent people probably wouldn't be a great start to whatever mess I had gotten myself into. And I wasn’t exactly a master swordsman to begin with. Even though I defeated those undead, it still felt awkward to swing a sword. I was definitely a bit desensitized to violence, but not some kind of warrior. Having a sword doesn't make me a warrior.
I decided to cut my losses and head for Ljosavatnsskaro instead, since maybe the people there wouldn't want to kill me for having scales. But then the crowd began to spread out, making way for a lone figure, hunched over and wrapped in a dusty brown cloak, using a gnarled branch as a walking cane as he pushed himself forward. The crowd’s ire transformed into anxious murmurs as the man passed, not even sparing them a glance. The only one he looked at was the man on a horse, who's face became pale as milk when their eyes met, and when the ringleader was thoroughly cowed, so was the rest of the mob.
“Gone, back to your workings ye shall be,” he rasped, his voice like sandpaper on glass, “begone and allow me to see where others cannot.” As he hobbled past the horseman he waved his hand, sending the mob hurrying away and back to their daily lives, as if I had never appeared.
“Gothi Øbyiorn, you cannot intervene, this thing is an intruder!” the horseman shouted.
“This thing is a person with a name,” the old man said, who's name was apparently Gothi, “And he has humbly requested your patronage. You dare violate the laws of hospitality? Shame on you for insulting the gods so.”
“By the Stormcaster, he's a dragon-spawn! He'll bring damnation down on us all from above! The Stormcaster shall smite us for harboring him!”
Gothi merely shook his gnarled walking branch irritably and gave the horseman an ugly look. “Thorfast Iogæirsson! If you had paid any attention to my lessons when you were a child you'd know that the Stormcaster’s own brother was the father of dragons! They felled the Lord of giants together! Have you no shame in taking his name in vain?”
The horseman, Thorfast, seemed to blush from embarrassment and indignation at that. “Rhörldir betrayed his brother for the skythrone!”
“And then Inir forgave him after humbling him in battle with his spear, and Rhörldir stood by his side ever since,” Gothi spoke, “Yes, some dragons may be wicked and cling to godly grudges, but this young dragon-kin,” he put emphasis on the word kin as if spawn was some kind of slur, “has humbly requested shelter, and even offered to compensate, and you, as Høbding, should be the first to honor the rules of hospitality. Do not shame your late father with your foolishness by being so brash and bigoted towards those who seek you no harm, especially when your father's very own thane himself was of the dragon-kin.”
The horseman, Thorfast, seemed enraged at first, but something about the elderly hunchback seemed to inject some sense in him, because he sighed with disgust and inserted his blade back into his scabbard. “Come, Dragon-kin,” he spoke, as if the words were being forced from him at gunpoint, “I shall find you the accommodations you seek, but he warned: disrupt my village in any way and I'll impale you on a spike in front of my home.”

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.

As I just finished episode 4 of baby reindeer, what I watched about his sexual abuse put me in some thought.
Around 10 years old or less I was sexually touched by my brother, 2 years older. I was sleeping (on the top bed and him on the bottom one) and I woke up after feeling something between my thighs. His fingers were exploring my area. I was surprised and I honestly didn't think much about it in the moment as i didnt know about these things, although I froze. I feel bad that I froze. In the beginning it was a foreign feeling for me, I don't know if it happened above or under the clothes, and then it started feeling good in a way that I hadn't felt before so I continued not moving. I'm not sure if it happened one night or two. I feel very ashamed by this and dirty, pervert and disgusted by him now. As we grew up I was always uncomfortable with hugs with him and always I kept a distance between my area and his while hugging, even until our chests(as boobs are considered sexual too).. you can imagine the weird pose while hugging.
16 years later, I still think about it. I have never talked about it except with my therapist, but it was super uncomfortable and vulnerable to talk about. I couldn't tell it to my mother that I tell her so many things, she loves him and I wouldn't want to create a stigma around him as he already is having his own difficulties. And I wish I could tell her because I feel like I carry a dirty little secret that would really reduce her beggings of me to have more communication with my brother and to call him more and to be more empathetic with him, if she knew. His presence most of the time around me feels like a black abyss that steals and absorbs my positivity and energy, not to mention that i cannot relax around him. I wonder if he remembers. It would feel so invalidating if I ever speak about it to him and he doesn't remember or try to gaslight me.
I think, as a result, I got hypersexual and i also got some intimacy issues that I'm working on. I think I made my trauma a kink as well, somnophilia. It makes me feel aroused and sick at the same time, it is confusing and weird and it's the reason I was urged to write this after watching episode 4. This makes me think of what I really like and what is a coping mechanism for the sexual trauma. Makes me think how I'm self-objectifying myself through being aroused by being on the passive role of somnophilia, how dissociative perhaps this is, how I manage to feel aroused by thinking of myself through the eyes of somebody else who would like to use me for pleasure and not care what I want.. how hurtful and how self-unloving it could be to keep recreating a traumatic incident, through consent now however, and convincing myself to be aroused. By this time, I'm almost certain that all the weird kinks originate from some abusing experiences, but I still don't understand how that works and mostly how it ends up being helpful for the abused?
I've never had anyone to talk about this so extendedly and shamelessly, so thank you.
P.S. I understand the child curiosity for playing games, exploring each other bodies, but in this case there was no consent, therefore it is sexual abuse.

Some context: I'm a middle aged CC student living in SF for 9 years now and have been working as a self employed software developer for ~8 years cummulatively, ~5 years recently (mostly web but some other stuff). My work has given me extreme flexibility in my schedule so I decided to finally pursue a degree (I was a working musician from about age 14-25 and that took over my life, school was hardly considered and I barely graduated HS). I DO NOT want to move out of the bay so obviously I've been targeting Berkeley and have been following an ed plan to apply to EECS (non IGETC).
Due in part to unexpectedly losing my father this semester but mostly just having a stacked schedule, it's possible I come out of this semester with big enough hit to GPA such that the best possible GPA I will have when applying is a 3.85. Looking at their transfer data the low end of their admit range for EECS generally hovers around 3.9, and to maintain a 3.85 until the time of application would mean nothing less than an A in Calc II/III, and Physics I/II (calc gave me the most trouble this semester), and their transfer admit rate is obviously low at ~11% or so. I suppose I could agument one of these classes for honors and get a GPA boost but have yet to look into that, and taking stacked 18/9 credit semesters alongside working has already been absolutely brutal, my average week is ~85 hours between school and work.
So considering the low odds of being accepted I'm trying to figure out the most viable path forward. IMO at my age any degree I get needs to have a significant impact on income potential, another reason why I've been targeting UCB/EECS, but I also do just want to get it done for the sake of it.
So the options as I see it: 1. Augment current ed plan to get into a less impacted major at UCB. Not sure what major this would be, probably data science, math, or physics, but open to suggestions. This would mean dropping planned math/physics coursed for foreign language etc to meet IGETC requirements. If I manage to attend UCB I'm interested in the 5th year masters program so doing that in CS is possible.

1. Continue with the EECS based ed plan (probably with some slight modifications) and try to get admitted to another UC with a good program. I despise the idea of moving, particularly to Southern California, so this is difficult. Davis is a shithole (no offense Davis people lol) UCSC is beautiful but not a particularly well regarded program, UCSB has potential. There's always SF State but I'm yet to convince myself it would be worth the time. I'd actually be more interested in moving out of state but tuition becomes an issue.
   
2. Carry on and hope my work experience, life experience, and essays get me into EECS (non-traditional and first gen could help too I suppose).
   

Not looking for anyone to tell me what to do, but other perspectives could be helpful. Cheers

I’m a 5’11", 135-pound man. I wear a men’s small and have a 28-inch waist. Every time I go shopping for clothes in stores, I head straight for the kids' section. I’ve discovered that a men’s small has a lot of overlap with a kids' size 14-18, depending on the brand. The clothes are so much cheaper, and they’re of comparable quality to adult sizes. Because I’m relatively tall, I avoid boys' pants, but shirts, shorts, and underwear are all fair game. I managed to get three two-piece sets and a three-pack of Calvin Klein boxers for under $50

I don’t want to rant out of frustration but this may go there. I also have a few sincere questions out of concern and need for my own awareness. I started selling in 2011 and was an early ambassador (lol when it meant something and you had to be accountable and apologize for selling a swimsuit that was nwot to earn that status) so I’ve seen some things…
like when all party invites came from that one poor employee who the newb karens ripped to shreds because they did not understand how automated invites worked or that they could unsubscribe from emails. LOL.
I never dreamt I would see the romper room messy bs that these live shows have brought. Holy untreated mental illness Batman. I have read up on changes to the algo and pretty much the basics of how to please the gods and things are going decently. If anyone reads this and wants to mentor me counsel me or offer tips grace or support I’d honestly welcome it. But wow I’ve been blown away at the expectations of people. And at some of the low key judgment toward resellers. Why is that? It’s kind of amazing the way that this platform has lost a sense of decorum I’m guessing due to the lack of support for sellers. Buyers are privy to way more information about most of these items than they are what they buy online and even in some stores. Yet ask questions of sellers that are so out of pocket and with very little frame of reference. So many aspects of clothing are subject to wearer that it’s difficult to answer things like “how does this fit” and that’s a fave. When a stock photo and measurements are given? Figure it out! 🤦‍♀️ if you’re short it’s prob gonna be long hun. And I do NOT talk like that. But a few days back on this app of getting questions like “is that the sheen on the pants or do they fit that tight” when the measurements, stock photos, fabric content and multiple other photos of the fabric in various lighting are listed. I feel like adults should be able to not have to make me ask them how thick their thighs are and compare it to the measurement in the listing for them. That is my time and it is worth money. Sorry but that’s just capitalism? I did not choose it. I’m sorry these basic skills are so allusive. People literally don’t know how to measure their own clothes and compare though?
Is this the experience others have had in current years and how do you handle these people who seem to not understand how clothes work?
Then there are the people who repeatedly make the same lowball offer. And insist on commenting that they made an offer when the offer was extremely low. I’ve got one who I want to block because she’s being rude about it and in her about section it says “NOT a reseller just selling clothes my family doesn’t wear anymore.” That’s technically reselling babe. When did the virtue signaling like begin??. And if it’s some “I have a real job” flex that is for one thing extremely ableist and I would like to say check your privilege to anyone in that camp before you come at me. She has had time to comment on my listing all day demanding I respond to her offer and give more info. 🧐 Not a reseller yet she has been on here for several years and has made over 600 sales. Cool beans tell me more. Ok now I’m ranting sorry.
I have gotten so many questions that could have been answered so much faster had they googled it or by using that handy image search function. Or by searching for similar listings and seeing that info listed elsewhere. I realize this makes me sound like a lazy or unresponsive/bad seller but I’ve just been swamped since getting my closet back up and going. That definitely does not mean I’m rolling in sales. I have not bought bots I’m trying to just get measurements on all the listings and develop my inventory. Again. People seem to behave like they are helpless and are impatient with their questions. Is it the clientele these days? Is it because they can? Am I the problem lol Will it get better or do I need to resign? Why does it seem like even the people who sell don’t have empathy for fellow sellers like they used to? How do they draw a line between seller and reseller if they literally are making offers to these resellers reaping the benefits of their work? We are all trying our best because we literally need money to survive. Why do these people act like we owe them so much of our time when they aren’t even going to make a purchase? That screen sure ups the audacity. Poshmark has strayed so far from where it started. But the utter lack of altruism. It feels like I’ve only encountered trolls since my return.