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The Curse of Stonemoor Manor

2024.05.22 03:15 FishermanTales The Curse of Stonemoor Manor

My remaining years are few and my body is weak, yet my memories are still sharp, so I shall share a tale I’ve long kept secret. I no longer wish to take it with me to the grave. I once feared that others might be drawn to this horrible experience of mine, like those who wander too close to the edges of a roaring tornado, only to be consumed and mangled beyond recognition. But I’ve come to realize that it was naive to think this way. Though some may not heed a tornado's warning, that’s no reason not to sound the alarm. And so, I tell this story with that purpose in mind.
Consider this the gravest of warnings to stay away from Stonemoor Manor.
In the year of 1953, I was but a young man, though already busy with the responsibilities of a career and a family. Despite my tender age, I had already dabbled in various trades, for I was a restless spirit, never one to settle. From labor to intellect, I had tried my hand at it all. With equal prowess in both craft and wit, I found my true calling in a profession that demanded both: veterinary medicine.
Life in Ireland was tough in those times. Many young families were heading off for better opportunities overseas. Though I was hesitant at first, myself and the wife decided we’d eventually do the same for our daughter’s sake. But I wasn’t about to take them to a new land empty-handed, so we agreed to stay another year in Ireland while I put away some coin. To stretch our savings as far as they would go, we chose to see out our final year in a rural spot where the cost of living was kinder on the pocket.
With but a year's worth of experience as a vet under my belt, I had yet to earn myself a reputation worth speaking of, nor had I much acquaintance with the locals in the village we'd chosen as our temporary home. Still, I held firm in the skills I possessed, my eagerness to learn, and my belief that this countryside community of farms and fields would provide ample chances to prove myself. To put it plainly, I was brimming with confidence, some might even call it cockiness. I suppose it was a mixture of that and desperation which brought me to Stonemoor Manor.
As the days stretched into months, I found myself haunting the local pub like a ghost, a familiar face among the regulars. My confidence was dwindling with the lack of work. It seemed like everyone in that village had the healthiest animals in all of Ireland, maybe even beyond. What a cruel twist, their blessed lives mocking my own struggles.
One evening, in my drunken stupor, I hadn’t noticed at first the gaunt figure come into the pub and saunter over to the shadowed corner where I was drowning my sorrows. It wasn’t until he spoke that I saw him.
“Are you the veterinarian?” He asked.
I raised my head and steadied my blurred gaze on the face of a man whose sunken features made him look more shadow than flesh. For a moment, I even thought I was looking at a skeleton.
“Aye, that’d be me.”
“They seek your presence at Stonemoor Manor.”
“And what’s the reason for that?”
“The Master’s horse has taken ill.”
“And what does this ‘master’ go by?”
The man glared in silence, then in a tone tinged with irritation and raised volume, declared, "His name is Alistair Stonemoor."
In an instant, the chatter in the pub fell silent, and every gaze turned toward our shadowed corner.
Under the weight of the pub's collective gaze, the man squirmed uncomfortably, his voice lowering as he muttered, "It matters not. You’ll be well rewarded for your troubles."
Past the man, the bartender shook his head in disapproval, fixing me with a stern glare, and silently mouthed the word, "no."
Despite the bartender's cautionary glance, fueled by youth, folly, and a healthy dose of drink, I brushed aside his advice and turned to the man, blurting out, "How much is this Master Stonemoor offering?"
The man leaned closer, his face illuminated by the flickering candlelight, revealing a gaunt, pallid countenance and foggy eyes. He looked every bit of his seventy years or more. "Sufficient to settle comfortably upon reaching the shores of America," he murmured.
In that moment, it would have been prudent to heed the warning signaled by the hairs standing on end at the nape of my neck. When your instincts scream "leave," it's best to listen. But the allure of a swift resolution to my troubles clouded my judgment. The prospect of a better life sooner than expected was too tempting to resist. So, I rose from my seat and addressed the man, "I'll go fetch me things.”
I made the decision I believed was best for my family.
God rest their souls.
I kept from my lovely Mary the weight the Stonemoor name carried in the pub. She'd have put a stop to my leaving in an instant. Instead, I spun a tale of a wealthy gent in need of my skills, assuring her I'd be back when the job was done. With our wee Annie already tucked in for the night, I kissed my wife goodbye, gathered my tools, and slipped into the back of a sleek black sedan, driven by the mysterious man with eyes like fog, seemingly undeterred by their cloudy gaze.
I leaned in and murmured, "Didn't quite catch your name, sorry.”
“Never said it.”
“Ah, right. What is it, then?”
“Fergus.”
“Pleasure, Fergus. I’m Liam.”
“I know.”
“Right. The ad. You’ve seen me ad.”
With no response from Fergus, I pressed on, asking, "How far is Stonemoor Manor from here?"
“About a half hour drive.”
What ensued was a half-hour journey enveloped in silence, traversing through the village and onto a dirt path winding through a dense, shadowy forest. Eventually, we arrived at an iron gate, which swung open onto a secluded road. Despite my keen observation, I couldn't discern who operated the gate, nor who secured it shut behind us. Ten minutes further along this secluded path, the woods parted, revealing the grandeur of Stonemoor Manor for the first time.
It bore a striking resemblance to a castle, its exterior fashioned from grey stone adorned with towers and crenellations, save for the central portion, which appeared to be of Victorian design. Judging by the numerous windows, the manor rose at least four stories high, not accounting for any underground levels.
The manor lay bathed solely in the moon's glow, devoid of any external illumination. Among the multitude of windows, only one emitted light: a solitary glimmer from a small window perched atop one of the corner towers.
Fergus brought the car to a halt, then stepped out and opened my door. With a nod, he gestured towards the manor and uttered, "Master Stonemoor awaits you within."
"Up there, is he?” I acknowledged, stepping out of the vehicle and casting a nod towards the illuminated window.
Ignoring my question, Fergus closed the door firmly. "Come along," he directed, leading the way towards the looming manor.
We climbed stone steps to confront a grand iron door, effortlessly opened by old Fergus. He gestured for me to enter before closing the door with a heavy thud that echoed through the foyer. Cast only in the moon's silver light, the room revealed itself in fragments, with stone stairs disappearing into the shadows ahead. Fergus had vanished from sight, leaving me to navigate the dimness alone.
I called out for Fergus, but my voice echoed unanswered, stirring a growing sense of unease. Doubt crept in, whispering of traps and deceit. With cautious steps, I retreated towards the door, its cool iron offering a sense of security. Fumbling in the darkness, my heart quickened with each passing moment, panic threatening to overwhelm me. Just as my trembling hand found the handle, the room burst into light.
“Departing so soon, are we?”
A new voice pierced the silence, resonating with youth and vigor unlike Fergus's. Swiveling around, my eyes met those of a tall, middle-aged man clad in a sleek black three-piece suit, accented by a bold red tie. With raven-black hair framing his face and piercing blue eyes, he commanded the landing of the steps, which diverged to his left and right.
“Ah, sorry now. I seemed to have gone and misplaced Fergus,” I chuckled sheepishly. “Thought he might’ve been locked out. I take it you’re Mister Stonemoor?”
"Please, call me Alistair," he replied with a nod. "And you must be Doctor Kerrigan?"
"Aye... Liam, that's me name," I stammered. "Only the creatures call me doctor."
I couldn't tell if the jest garnered even a smirk, for Alistair remained rooted to the spot at the top of the stairs, a considerable distance away.
"Anyhow," I persisted, "I understand there's a sick horse in need of attention?"
"Are you drunk, Doctor?" Alistair's tone was pointed, his gaze piercing.
Alistair's question caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless, akin to a child caught in mischief. Yet, I had a feeling of innocence; after all, it was Fergus who had recruited me from the pub.
“I’ve had a few pints this evening.”
“I can smell it on you.”
“That is truly impressive.”
“There is nothing impressive about it, Doctor Kerrigan.”
“Well, I didn’t go swimming in it, did I?”
“I do not know and I find your sarcasm unwelcome. Fergus will escort you to a chamber, and you shall begin attending to my horse at daybreak."
“Hold on now, I'm sorry for me behavior, but I can't be staying the night. I've got a family to get back to. And anyhow, shouldn't this horse be needing emergency treatment?"
Alistair turned on his heel and ascended the staircase to his right. "Treatment can wait until you've sobered up," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"I'm plenty sober!" I hollered after him as he vanished up the stairs. "Me hands are steady as a rock!" My protest echoed through the empty foyer, but Alistair had already disappeared from sight.
Fergus emerged from the shadows of a nearby hallway, causing me to startle. "I will show you to your room.”
“You’re a right sly one, Fergus. Anyway, I can’t be sticking around for the night.”
“Master intends to further compensate you for your time.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I shall return you to your burdens.”
With my jaw clenched and eyes shut tight, I drew in a deep breath. For a fleeting moment, a vision danced in my mind's eye: my little Annie, her smile radiant as she pointed towards Lady Liberty. So precious she was, my heart ached with longing for her to have a better life.
"Fine," I relented, opening my eyes. "Show me to the room."
As I awoke, it was not to the gentle glow of morning light, but to the harsh brightness of noon. Jumping from the bed, I checked my watch, confirming my fears. With urgency, I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my bag, and hastened out of the bedroom. Stepping into the hallway, I was disoriented, with no recollection of its layout from the night before. Rows of closed doors lined the corridor, and I began to try each one in turn. Pushing and pulling, I soon realized that every door was locked. Surely, not every room warranted such security, I pondered, my frustration growing with each failed attempt.
As I ventured down the hall and finally arrived at the imposing stone staircase, the resounding clicks of each door unlocking in unison sent shivers down my spine. Goosebumps prickled across my skin, and I hastened my descent down the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. Just as I reached the bottom, I came to an abrupt stop, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ghastly figure of Fergus.
“Sleep well?” He asked.
“Jesus, Fergus! It’s noon! Has the horse given up the ghost yet? And, I haven’t a clue what’s happening upstairs, but…”
“Master Stonemoor awaits your presence in the stables.”
I looked at Fergus a moment, wondering if he’d heard a word I’d said, then relented, “Okay, then. Can I use a phone first?”
“There’s no phone on this property.”
“No phone? That’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it? I need to let me wife know where I am.”
“I will send word.”
“Quickly, then. Just let her know not to be worrying about me. I’ll be back once the job is done.”
Fergus nodded in acknowledgement before guiding me towards the stables. In the light of day, the grandeur of Stonemoor Manor became even more apparent. It truly was a colossal structure, dominating the landscape with its impressive presence.
The stables were nearly empty, save for one stall at the far end where I found Alistair tending to a black thoroughbred, sprawled on straw, barely clinging to consciousness.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Alistair remarked, not lifting his gaze from her.
"Aye, but she's in a bad way."
Alistair nodded solemnly. "She's been like this for some time.”
"You should've woke me.”
"Wouldn't have changed a thing." Alistair paused in his brushing of the horse’s mane and rested his hand upon her flank, following the rhythm of her strained breaths.
"Isn't it me duty to tend to her?"
Alistair withdrew his hand and straightened up, his eyes bluer than ever. "No, it's not." And just then, the horse's breathing stopped. "Come along, Doctor."
Alistair guided me through the grand house, down echoing halls, and into a room adorned with portraits aplenty. He paused in the center of the room and asked, "Any of these faces look familiar?" I scoured the walls until I stumbled upon a particular painting, a sight that nearly shook me to the core. In that frame, a woman and a young lass gazed back at me, bearing an eerie resemblance to my own Mary and our sweet Annie.
My blood boiled with fury, convinced that this portrait depicted my own wife and daughter. Suspicion gnawed at me, and I eyed Alistair with distrust, wondering if he was some sort of obsessed deviant. "Out with it," I demanded, my voice sharp with anger.
“No need to fret, Doctor. This painting predates your girls by quite a stretch."
"I'm not taking it, they're too alike for comfort.”
"I’m just as baffled as yourself," Alistair conceded, his words laced with sadness. "The girls in the painting are my dear wife and daughter. Both passed away some time ago."
I stood silent for a moment, then spoke softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize." My gaze returned to the portraits before scanning the room again, my eyes catching on something odd. "Don't you have any photographs of them?"
Alistair let out a weary sigh and turned to me. "I'm afraid not," he confessed. "They passed before photographs were even a notion."
A puzzled chuckle broke from my lips. "Surely not. Cameras have been about for a hundred years," I countered, shaking my head in disbelief.
Alistair fixed me with a steady gaze, betraying no hint of doubt or error. "So it be," he affirmed with quiet certainty.
Apart from Alistair's piercing blue eyes, other features seemed to have taken on a newfound radiance. His skin possessed a youthful glow, his hair appeared fuller, and his jawline more defined. Alistair, it seemed, had undergone a remarkable rejuvenation, growing younger right before my eyes.
“Pardon me asking, but in which year were you born, Mister Stonemoor?”
Alistair smirked and made his way to a sizable wooden desk and lowered himself onto a chair. "Are you a man of faith, Doctor Kerrigan?”
Assuming this to be a roundabout approach, I responded, "Aye, I've a healthy fear of the Almighty."
Alistair rummaged through a drawer and withdrew a hefty leather-bound tome, causing a cloud of dust to rise as he placed it upon his desk. Flipping it open, he motioned for me to approach. Amongst the sea of words, atop the first page, was a title:
The Knights Templar.
What Alistair divulged to me was a tale so fantastical, it surpassed any yarn I'd ever heard spun. He claimed to have once been among the legendary Knights Templar, embroiled in the Crusades and journeying across continents in pursuit of sacred relics and hidden truths.
But as history tells, the Templars met a grim fate, condemned by their own church and hunted to extinction. Yet, Alistair was no mere casualty of that bloody chapter. He was a survivor, lurking in the very woods where Stonemoor Manor now stood, clutching to the shadows with a treasure in hand.
Amongst the spoils of his clandestine escapades was a fabled emerald tablet, etched with secrets believed to bridge the mortal realm with the divine. Alistair, having purloined the tablet and sought refuge in the forest, claimed to have communed with the Almighty himself. And in that sacred dialogue, he made a plea, and it was granted.
Thus, his years became as boundless as his desires.
As his narrative drew to a close, Alistair closed the book and beckoned me to follow him back to the stables. Stunned into silence after what I’d just heard, I trailed behind him as we retraced our steps to the very spot where we had witnessed the horse's demise. And once we arrived, still, my tongue lay dormant as I beheld the miraculous sight before me: the once lifeless creature now stood vibrant and strong.
Finally, a solitary word escaped my lips, a gasp of incredulity as I uttered, "How?"
"The Lord bestowed upon me a gift," Alistair confessed, his voice weighted with solemnity. "But it came at a cost. In death, I find life. With each soul I take, I grow younger."
The transformation in Alistair's appearance now made sense, yet it did little to quell my lingering doubts about the resurrection of the horse. "But why is the horse alive, then?" I pressed, seeking further clarification.
In response, Alistair simply glanced past me, nodding toward a figure looming in the shadows. Turning, my eyes fell upon Fergus, his form now even more weathered, his countenance more gaunt and gray. He looked to have aged another decade.
Alistair spoke as I stood in awe, elucidating, "With death, I am rejuvenated, yet with life, Fergus withers further. I take and I gain, while he gives and he loses. Our blessing is also our curse.”
Fergus looked on with weary eyes and sagging shoulders. "There was a portrait earlier that escaped your notice, Doctor," Alistair interjected. "It was the portrait of my son... Fergus Stonemoor."
To be continued…

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2024.05.22 02:39 a_modest_espeon [H] Lots of Games, Please Look [W] Games(See Below)/Offers, Wishlisted Items, and Paypal

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Roadwarden
Robot Roller-Derby Disco Dodgeball
Rock of Ages 2: Bigger & Boulder™
Rocket Birds: Hardboiled Chicken
ROCKETSROCKETSROCKETS
Rogue Heroes:Ruins of Tasos
Roguebook
Rollerdrome
ROUNDS (x2)
Rustler
Rusty Lake Paradise
RÖKI
S.W.I.N.E. HD REMASTER
Saints Row: The Third
Sam & Max: Season 1
Sam & Max: Season 2
Satellite Reign (x2)
Scorn
Scourgebringer
Screencheat
Scribblenauts Unlimited (x2)
Secrets of Raetikon
Shadow Complex Remastered (Epic Games)
SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE
Shady Part of Me
Shelter 2 (x3)
Shenmue I & II
shutshimi
Sid Meier's Railroads!
Sigma Theory: Global Cold War (x2)
SimplePlanes
SIMULACRA
Size Matters
Slipstream
Sniper Elite
Sniper Elite 3 (x2)
Sniper Elite V2
Snowtopia: Ski Resort Builder
Song of Horror
SOULCALIBUR VI
Souldiers
Speed Brawl
Spellcaster University
Spelunky
Spirit of the Island
Spirits
SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS: BATTLE FOR BIKINI BOTTOM - REHYDRATED
Spy Fox 2 "Some Assembly Required"
Spy Fox 3 "Operation Ozone"
Spy Fox in "Dry Cereal"
Spy Fox In: Hold the Mustard
Squad (Early Access)
StarCrossed
State of Mind
Staxel
Stealth 2: A Game of Clones
Stick Fight: The Game (x4)
Streamline Early Access
Streets of Rage
Stronghold Crusader 2
Subsurface Circular (x3)
Suchart:Genius Artist Simulator
Sudden Strike 4
Super Daryl Deluxe
Super Galaxy Squadron EX
Super Hexagon (x2)
Super House of Dead Ninjas: True Ninja Pack
Super House of the Dead Ninjas (x2)
Super Lesbian Animal RPG
Super Magbot
Super Time Force Ultra
SUPERHOT (x3)
Surgeon Simulator + Anniversary Ed. Content
Surviving the Aftermath
Swag and Sorcery
Sword Legacy Omen
SYNTHETIK: Legion Rising
System Shock 2
System Shock: Enhanced Edition
Tainted Grail: Conquest
Tales from the Borderlands
Tales of Berseria™
Tales of the Neon Sea
Tangledeep + Soundtrack
Tank Mechanic Simulator
Team Indie
Teleglitch: Die More Edition
Telltale Texas Hold'em
TemTem
The Adventure Pals
The Ambassador: Fractured Timelines
The Ascent
The Ball
The Battle of Polytopia
The Blackout Club
THE DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: LITTLE HOPE
THE DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: MAN OF MEDAN
The Dungeon of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet of Chaos + Goodies + OST
The Dwarves
The First Tree (x3)
The Forgotten City
The Gardens Between
The Henry Stickmin Collection
THE INVISIBLE HAND
The Journey Down: Chapter Three
The Legend of Tianding
The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante
The Quarry Deluxe Edition
The Red Lantern
The Serpent Rogue
The Stillness of the Wind
The Walking Dead
The Walking Dead - 400 Days
The Walking Dead: A New Frontier
The Walking Dead: Final Season
The Walking Dead: Michonne - A Telltale Miniseries
The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners
The Walking Dead: Season Two
The Walking Dead: The Telltale Definitive Series
The Wild Eight
The Witness (x2)
theHunter: Call of the Wild
Them and Us
There is No Light:Enhanced Edition
Think of the Children
Thirty Flights of Loving
This is the Police
This War of Mine
This War of Mine: Final Cut
Throne of Lies® The Online Game of Deceit (x3)
Tilt Brush
TIMEframe
Tin Can
Titan Quest Anniversary
Titan Quest Anniversary Edition
ToeJam & Earl: Back in the Groove (x2)
Tokyo 42
Tooth and Tail (x2)
Torment: Tides of Numenera
Total Tank Simulator (x2)
Tower of Guns (x2)
Train Simulator 2017 + Platform Clutter + Town Scenery
Train Station Renovation
Tribes of Midgard
Trine 4: The Nightmare Prince
Tropico 4
Turbo Gold Racing
Twin Mirror (x2)
Two Point Campus
Ultimate Chicken Horse (x3)
Undertale
Unmetal
Unpacking
Valfaris
Vampire: The Masquerade - Shadows of New York
Vane
Vault of the Void
Verdun
Vertiginous Golf
Vikings - Wolves of Midgard
Visage
Void Bastards
Volgarr the Viking
Wandersong
Wargroove
Waking Mars
WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS GATE - DAEMONHUNTERS
Warhammer: Chaosbane
Werewolf: The Apocalypse Heart of the Forest
West of Dead
Westerado: Double Barreled
Where the Water Tastes like Wine
WHO PRESSED MUTE ON UNCLE MARCUS
Wildfire
WINDJAMMERS 2
Windward
Wingspan
Wizard of Legend (x3)
World of Goo
Worms Revolution
WORMS RUMBLE + LEGENDS PACK DLC
Wuppo (x2)
WWE 2K Battlegrounds
WWE 2K Battlegrounds + Brawler Pass
WWE 2K23
XCOM: CHIMERA SQUAD
XCOM: ULTIMATE COLLECTION
Yes, Your Grace
Yooka-Laylee
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK HEADRUSH
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK SPORTS
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK TELEVISION
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK Vol. 1 XL
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK Vol. 2
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK Vol. 3
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK Vol. 4: The Ride
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK Vol. 6 The Lost Gold
Ziggurat
Zombie Night Terror
Others GameMaker Studio Pro
Ashampoo BackUp Pro 14
Ashampoo Photo Optimizer 7
Ashampoo WinOptimizer 18
Battleborn Starter Skin Pack
Darkest Dungeon Shieldbreaker DLC
Double Fine Adventure Documentary
GWENT - Ultimate Starter Pack
Killing Floor - Community Weapon Pack 1 DLC
Killing Floor - Community Weapon Pack 2 DLC
Killing Floor - Community Weapon Pack 3 DLC
Mage and Minions - $10 In-Game Currency
Music Maker EDM Edition
Music Maker: Hip Hop Edition
PAYDAY 2: Sydney Mega Mask
Starfinder: Pact Worlds Campaign Setting
XCOM® 2: Reinforcement Pack
XCOM® 2: Resistance Warrior Pack
YOU DON'T KNOW JACK MOVIES

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2024.05.22 02:38 a_modest_espeon [H] Lots of Games, Please Look [W] Games(See Below)/Offers, Wishlisted Items, and Paypal

observer (x3)

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2024.05.22 02:18 8th_Hurdle [EVENT] Leave Them Hanging On The Line

29th January 1967;

Port Arthur, SCS;

{Following our meeting last December…}
Through the battered streets, swept by the wailing winds of the storms of deep January, there was still the wail of protesters, fighting ever more closely, delivering punches in each other’s doorways. Port Arthur’s namesake, the port on the Lake called Superior, was the gateway through which one accessed the wider world from the SCS, and that fact was not lost upon particularly the MLS. It was no wonder they took the city to be so important - it was the most foreign city of the lot, so they had to override the population’s prior nationalities in order to advance their cause.
What nationality did not live within the city? The borders of the SCS had been closed off in 1952, but the prior torrent had already brought in every culture by then. There were the Scots, the Welsh, the Irish, the English, the French, the Norwegians, the Danish, the Finnish, the New Englanders, the Quebecois, the Maritimers, the many others, the world inside a city. For all that Sault was Canadian and that Fort William was Serene, Port Arthur was the city that held every other flavour of the (Northern Atlantic) world. As Gloria walked along the tarmac between the rows of housing, cheaply-erected to house the many, she did not feel a stranger one bit.
She had not a similar feeling since she had left the town of Stoke to the rising waters.
Even so, the few that were the protesters did their best to attract her, to whistle and to call out at her, because she was a woman and alone on the streets, with Mark typing frantically to his friend across the lake, as he tried to convey what he knew onwards towards the armed forces. That friend had his own mates, in higher places, and they had met a while ago. By now, he sulked by the St Mary’s, carrying his heavy loads, and Sault was a good place to sulk. All Mark had to confirm was that he was still in Sault, and not attracted by the offers of guaranteed accommodation and tax rebates if he decided to live and farm in the countryside. He just needed to know.
In the meantime, Gloria needed to seek out Lee, and to get through the city, walking was what was needed, and that was Mark’s idea which Gloria agreed with.
Thus, she trudged through the storms and the gales onwards into the docklands, to find her man. Well, finding the docklands was easy enough, since the high chain-fence was obvious enough with its notices in government typeface. Walking around far enough to the south allowed Gloria to find her entrance, and to find a helpful woman, one who worked at the front. She held all the keys, and all of the telephone wires, and, upon a quick one-button check of the video-monitoring system to Lee’s desk that showed him reading a book, the all-clear was given. “William is free to talk, I assume this will be on personal matters? I’ll give permission, it’s too stormy to do much more than read books anyway, he won’t get much. I’ll get someone to escort you.”
“Oh Lee, thank you ever so much. Mark and I are in Longuelac, but we’re staying in Port Arthur for the time being whilst he finds more work.”
“Ah cheers. Interesting that you’re here for work, didn’t know about the MLS and MS protests here, yep? Tis horrendous, but ah well, I live close enough to docks that they don’t hit me, all’s fine round these parts. Longuelac is a place for sure, that also work?” asked Lee rhetorically, drawing in all the information he required.
“Yes, all just work and money. I just want to live near our work rather than him use our money on fuel on his car just to get him to work. He thinks we only get higher-paying jobs just because of that car. I can’t see why a motorcycle wouldn’t work either, but maybe it’s storms like today that do it,” stated Gloria towards Lee, whom she knew wanted to draw in more of that lovely information.
“So… so… you like the Monde Suffit then? They have their 13-minute-city idea or whatever, it’s about reducing distance to workplaces, by putting work right near the homes. It’s stuff like that which the MS like, but then you’re with Mark, yep?” suggested Lee, putting the pieces together.
“Mark wants to set up a rival for the MS, but upon similar principles, because Gatley and Hyhurst are being too idealistic and that won’t get stuff right. But his idea is… uhm…” tailed off Gloria.
“Still taking shape, yep? Well, look, I have a bit about Matias, so say that to Mark when he opens… this letter. It’ll have a bit more, and you can do more with it. I’m with Mark, because he met myself on the Samaria. He’ll do it, I’m sure.”
“You think, Lee?”
“I do think Gloria, thank you very much. He knows too much. I bet you every organisation wants him. What’s more they want him gone. Now, that’s all I have. Brave the weather, it’ll be better in a few hours once the morning’s over.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, and good luck. It’s not like Mark’d need it, but you will, just in dodging the protesters.”
{Agricultural Subsidies To Low From None}

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2024.05.22 02:17 PizzaKing_1 Songs You Think You Know (Part 3): “Funiculì, Funiculà” (“Funicular Up, Funicular Down“), Luigi Denzo, lyrics by Peppino Turco (1880).

Songs You Think You Know (Part 3): “Funiculì, Funiculà” (“Funicular Up, Funicular Down“), Luigi Denzo, lyrics by Peppino Turco (1880).

While today, this popular Neapolitan song is one of the most well-known and beloved Italian songs of all time, not many people know the true story and context behind it.
This song was originally composed by Luigi Denzo, with lyrics by Italian journalist Peppino Turco, in 1880 to commemorate the opening of the first funicular railway on Mount Vesuvius, which was also the first inclined cable car railway of it’s kind in Italy. It was Turco, who first came to Denzo prompting him to write the piece, perhaps as a joke, or to publicize the new railway.
The song was first presented at the annual Piedigrotta festival in Naples, Italy in 1880, where it became immensely popular in Italy and abroad.
The sheet music was published by Casa Ricordi and sold over a million copies in the first year.
German composer, Richard Strauss, heard the song while on a tour of Italy, in 1886, and mistakenly believing it to be a traditional Neapolitan folk song, included it into his “Aus Italien” (“From Italy”) tone poem. Denza filed a lawsuit against him and won, forcing Strauss to pay him a royalty fee.
Funnily enough, Russian composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, also mistook “Funiculì Funiculà” for a traditional folk song, using it in his 1907 “Neapolitanskaya pesenka” (“Neapolitan Song”).
Over the years this song has been performed, recorded, and adapted by numerous artists, notably by Luciano Pavarotti, the singer in this recording.
Here is the full English translation of the lyrics:
Yesterday evening, Anna, I went up,Do you know where?Where this ungrateful heart cannot spite me any more!Where the fire burns, but if you fleeIt lets you be!And it doesn't chase you, it doesn't burn you, to see the sky!Let's go up to the top, let's go,Funicular up, funicular down! Let's go from the earth to the mountaintop!Without walking!We can see France, Procida and Spain...and I can see you!Pulled by a rope, no sooner said than done,We'll go to heaven...It goes like the wind suddenly,Up, up, up!Let's go up to the top, let's go,Funicular up, funicular down! We've climbed it, my love, we've already climbedTo the top!It's gone up, then returned, then it's back...It's always here!The summit revolves, around, around,around you!This heart always sings, my love,Let's get married one day!Let's go up to the top, let's go,Funicular up, funicular down!

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2024.05.22 00:54 Soft-Wrongdoer-6911 Any tips for bigger Lego sets from Walmart? And things like USBs/ SdCards also from Walmart?

So first time borrowing from Walmart and I got three ok sized Lego sets.
Storm trouper mech
Harry Potter flying car (for a friend)
Sunflowers
And I was able to fit them in a side bag I was wearing were I could just quickly slide them in without being suspicious or without people noticing.
But me and the friend I got one of the sets for wants to get one of the bigger sets like one of the cars, the rose bush, tuxedo cat, or the Kawasaki bike.
I'm pretty positive neither of them would fit in the side bag. And idk about bringing in a backpack bc I feel like that would be too suspicious yk. (But if I can't really do anything I'll probably have to do that).
I was also thinking about grabbing an ok sized tote bag to see if I could possibly make it look full with cardboard when I entered, then filling it up with stuff then covering it up when I leave so it looks the same as when I entered.
And for USB and SdCards do I just yank the cardboard?
Cuz they're not in a glass box thing but the rack they're in has a thing so you can't take it off the rack and need someone to take it off. Do I just pull on it and break the cardboard? It won't ring or anything if I do right? Or should I cut it with something?
Please help me out any tips or information would be really appreciated 🙏

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2024.05.22 00:28 Pinkcokecan Ranting about how much I love 1

So I first played this as a kid (I'm 19 now) it was one of my earlier memories and I think we played on the GameCube? And I am replaying it and wow I'm just shocked about how incredible it still is.
The level design feels unique in every level and mostly accurately representing the villains unique personalities some of the jokes are still pretty funny like how hard Bman throws Catwoman in the car lol. The music obviously is iconic and such a pleasure listening to and is perfectly suited to the game. The villains designs are all great and so nostalgic and honestly I was super impressed with Gotham. No free roam but Gotham still felt alive or real or something. It was so detailed and didn't expect it. Idk why I didn't expect it from a Lego game but I just really didn't. It really felt immersive despite being Lego and every level was a joy or at least most of them (I didn't like the snow cone one)
Also when I was a kid I think I only did one villain mission I don't think I even knew they were there lol because it really surprised cause I was playing then unlocked them and felt like 15 brand new levels and love how they are in the same location but they don't get lazy and reuse the level it's all unique. Also it's strange seeing guns in Lego but combat was great fun still and loved how every character especially the villains were super reflective of their personalities.
For instance Robin walking on a tightrope because he was a circus flying Grayson before and how Riddler uses it and although some characters may feel like reskins of others like Bane and Killer Croc although I know they're different it still feels so fun and cool despite the lack of buttons/abilities found in later Lego titles. It's such a step up from Lego Indiana Jones which I played before this and loved too.
It's so so cozy and relaxing and I can just play it all the time. Also it's so cool seeing the asylum again which is cool they put an asylum in Lego but it's so nostalgic the mini kit room and the music I remember as a kid just spacing out and hearing that music and it was so long ago I only remember like blurry screenshots and the music and I just feel so happy and like a kid again playing but even outside of nostalgia the games level design and gameplay is super fun

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2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

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2024.05.21 23:16 aita_shlongushubby AITAH for telling my (28M) wife (30F) to choose me or her sister (26F) after she went behind my back to get her sister married to my friend and illegally immigrate to the US?

I’m gonna lay out the whole context here, and it’s 2 years long so bear with me. A TL;DR isn’t really possible as there’s so much important context to whether or not IATA.
We’ve been married almost 10 years and she’s from overseas. She came here through our marriage. We were happy and doing extremely well for ourselves.
The problem started to 2 years ago. My friends wedding. Afterward we went out and then went to another friends house to continue partying. At the party one of the wedding guests started having a pity party about how he’s depressed because all these happy couples are around and he’s single.
For context. This guy is weird. He’s disrespectful to women, capitalizes on captive audiences (waitresses most often), and is overall a loser. He’s got a good job but that’s about it.
My wife, listens to his sob story and says “I have a sister!” and immediately starts FaceTiming her sister. This is something I’ve said isn’t okay. We’re not tinder, and we’re not matchmakers.
Beyond that her sister has a history of treating her poorly. She constantly told my wife she’s stupid growing up, well into adulthood. She blocked my wife for a whole year because my wife called her and told her not to go on boats with men she doesn’t know. Told my wife to live like she doesn’t have a sister. For a whole year I consoled my wife a couple times a week.
Anyways we were both drunk and with people so I’m not gonna start a fight right there. I figure I’ll talk to her about it maturely later. So I do. In the meantime, I switch to speaking Arabic with her sister and tell her this isn’t okay and isn’t what she wants.
Her and my wife to this day claim I was happy and supportive. They claim I was too drunk to remember. But there’s a few things wrong with this. I drove home, I take drinking and driving VERY seriously and would never, ever do it. In fact, if I know I’ve drank too much, I’ll hand my keys to a friend before the liquor starts hitting, just to avoid any possibility of making that bad decision.
Secondly, I switched to Arabic. I’m white. Arabic is a language I learned. When I speak it, I speak it very, very deliberately and remember the conversations perfectly. I know exactly what I said.
Anyways, when I talk to my wife later, I’m told how it’s wrong to prevent her from helping her sister and how her sister really likes this guy. A guy she talked to for 5 minutes. I told her it’s wrong to think of it as “helping” her sister in the first place and that her sister is a grown woman who can find her own partner.
So my wife says “okay I’ll tell my sister to stop talking to him”. That was the end of it. Or so I thought.
A few weeks later I’m at a different event and this guy let it slip they’re still talking. Immediately I’m upset and text my wife about how she lied to me.
She said her sister was really falling in love with this guy and separating them would be wrong. She said she did tell her sis to block him but when her sis went into a depression she told her she can unblock him and talk to him, behind my back.
Upset I told her we need to talk about going behind my back and how disrespectful of my boundaries this whole ordeal was. She said “it’s okay I’ll tell her to block him again”.
Over. Or so I thought for the next few months. A few months later I again am at an event with this guy and this time he’s smart enough to lie about them talking. But I’m a salesman and a bullshitter. You can’t bullshit me unless I trust you. I knew immediately he was lying but I let it go. I did ask my wife and she said no they’re not talking. So I believed her.
Well, a year and a half goes by. In that time her sister and her fought about how her sister could come to the US. We said we’d help her but it’s a lengthy process. At the time I had little animosity toward her sister and would’ve loved to see her come here and be near my wife again. She wasn’t happy with that and said it takes too long. This is her sister’s mindset.
Anyway. Her sister gets a B1 visa in the meantime, temporary business visitor and wants to come visit my wife. Lies through her teeth about her intentions to the immigration officer, telling them she wants to stay 90 days. They approve her for 60.
So we file for an extension ASAP so she can visit for 3 months. Staying with us the whole time. I wanted her to have fun on her visit so I arrange for my friends and I to go out. This guy shows up. She talked to him and told him our plans.
Immediately they disappear into the casino and come back holding hands and all kinds of PDA. I’m fuming because I know she’s a conniving word I won’t say here. I don’t say anything though and we go through the night and I let it go so I can have fun.
The next day he’s picking her up from my house and they’re out for the whole day. The next time my wife is off work, same story. Well, I thought you were here to visit her? And that’s where I put my foot down.
I got told it was wrong to try and control her, wrong to try and separate them, etc. etc. etc. Finally she blocks his number and he calls from a separate number. I turn off her SIM card because I’m not gonna support her going behind my back in my own home. He calls me and tells me he really loves her and just wishes I’d accept it.
I tell him very plainly I will never, ever accept it because it all stemmed from him, her, and my wife going behind my back. Primarily my wife, as she’s the only one of the three I should be able to trust is telling me the truth.
At this point, I feel as if my wife had an emotional affair, although it’s with her own family. She repeatedly chose to go behind my back, against a boundary I had told her repeatedly before this situation at my friend’s wedding after party ever transpired. If that’s not an emotional affair, I don’t know what is.
So I tell him bluntly to not call me anymore and I’m not going to change my stance, and his feelings don’t mean shit to me. He started to give me a sob story about how we’re friends and he I should be happy for him and I cut him off and told him to save his breath.
My wife is upset at me for how I talked to him. Another emotional affair. Trying to protect the feelings of this dude.
The next day, while my wife is at work I’m eating lunch at our dinner table and studying schoolwork her sister comes to the table and starts talking to me about this guy asking if I talked to him and I tell her plainly I did and what I told him.
She goes into a story about how she really loves him, she’s an adult woman and I shouldn’t be intervening etc. I told her I agree I shouldn’t ever have been involved and neither should my wife. I told her to save her breath with any talk of her feelings because I don’t care. She started crying telling me I’m cruel etc.
I told her at this point I’m done being nice. I’ve been lied to for 2 years and it’s over. I’m done being my laid back self and I’ve been pushed repeatedly and I’m standing up for my marriage and my boundaries.
I did turn her SIM card back on so she could call my wife and I, her hosts.
The next morning I wake up to my wife in tears calling me to her sisters room. Her sister is bawling her eyes out and packing her bags to go home. I talk her sister into coming for a car ride with my wife and I to talk things out.
Immediately in the car my wife starts berating her sister about how she’s selling her for a man and a whole host of other things. I calm my wife down and tell her that’s not okay to say to her sister. Because against what they thought I don’t want and would’ve never wanted this to cause a separation between them. I know how much my wife values family.
In the car her sister tells me she really loves this guy and that she can see them being a family one day etc. etc. etc. I tell her plainly don’t ever bring him around my house, if they do marry and have kids, don’t ever bring them around my house, and don’t consider me her brother in law because I will never do anything for her again after she goes home.
My wife is shocked, she’s shocked and they both wonder how I could be so cruel. I said I’m over it. I’m over hearing about this guy, I’m over being used, and I will never again trust her. She said she understands and resumes talking to this guy.
A few days later we’re in the car going to a family event with my family and I get asked if he can come. I said no, very politely. I said no, he’s not part of my family. I was told how terrible I am, and my wife and her sister both jump out of my car in a bad part of Chicago, an area neither of them know.
My wife calls my family and tells them I kicked them out of the car. So my family starts blowing up my phone screaming at me. Once I explained the situation my family said they’ll come pick them up but I hung around and kept driving by to make sure they were okay. Eventually my wife calls me and says they’ll get in.
So I pull over and they open the doors and my wife goes “I’m scared I don’t feel comfortable getting in the car with you”. So I drive away pissed off. This is a 85,000 car in a bad part of the city where carjackings happen every other day.
I go park somewhere but keep an eye on them to make sure they stay safe. A homeless guy passed them and my wife calls me to come get her. So I do and we go home.
Again her sister packs her shit and cries that she’s going home. I tell her to relax, sleep on it and we’ll talk in the morning. She does eventually and in the morning she decides she’ll stay.
A week goes by and I hear nothing about this guy from her. My friends and I all joked about him and made light fun of him. He caught wind of it and cried to my wife’s sister who told my wife, who came to me and aggressively told me to stop and leave them both alone. I got pissed off because this was a private convo between me and my friends and if he heard it and got his feelings hurt it’s on him.
This spiraled into a huge argument with me, my wife, and her sister. In the argument I asked her sister plainly if she planned to leave at the 90 day mark. She said no.
So I kicked her out of our house. Her and my wife went for a walk and I yelled out the front door to get her shit to the curb before the walk before I do, because if she doesn’t do it herself it’ll be thrown on the wet ground. They both thought I was joking before then I assume. Her sister comes in and packs her stuff and gets out. I said if you plan on staying here illegally it won’t be in my house. If the choose is between here or the streets, it’ll be the streets.
She went to stay with the boyfriend and his parents. His parents must not have liked her too much because within a couple weeks they made them both move out.
This was in January of this year.
Since then, I’ve been repeatedly goaded into accepting this. My wife has tried to get me to visit her sister, etc.
It came to a head recently at a wedding we went to for another friend. Her sister and this guy were there. I didn’t say a word to either one the entire night and all was fine.
Except my wife spent the whole night at their table because he wouldn’t dance or do anything to have fun. She can’t handle the idea that her sister might find something she doesn’t like about this guy. She has to be there just in case the relationship goes on life support.
This pisses me off, obviously. She’s more invested in their relationship than she’s been in ours for the past 2 years. Grown adults.
Well, today she was going to her sisters house. She had 2 bags. An ulta bag and a discovery bag. I asked what that is, and she said it’s for her sister. She pulled out taco shells and said it’s just small stuff she wants her to try. But I could see through the bag and saw beauty products. I’m not an idiot.
I looked in when she went to the bathroom and saw a fucking armoire full of shit. I looked at the receipt. $300. I was fucking livid.
I continued getting ready for work and said “her husband can’t buy her that?”. It’s confrontational, yes. But I said it politely, and was open to talking about it.
I get met with immediately hostility. I never raised my voice but I made it very clear I wasn’t being nice about this or anything anymore.
I told her “maybe she could pay you back and find you a new husband”. I’m going to give her a choice. Me or her sister now. Because this has gotten fucking ridiculous.
We pay for her to come here. She hired an immigration lawyer apparently, but doesn’t have money to pay me back for the flight or even pay for the Ubers they take or anything. My wife is trying to make up for this losers shortcomings. He’s too much of an idiot to see that her sister is using him.
By the way, this isn’t her first fiance. It’s not even her first western fiance. She’s been engaged to at least 3 different guys. One from France, another from Belgium, and a third from Canada before this guy. She was looking to immigrate. He’s a fucking idiot though so, oh well.
My wife’s sister is very materialistic. My wife is fortunately down to earth but is so far up her sisters ass because she thinks if she doesn’t do everything her sister wants that her sister will cut her from her life again. Which is exactly what would happen.
I told her that’s on her sister. I’m not asking her to never talk to her sister. I’m asking her to stop treating her sister like she’s a child and putting their relationship before ours. Stop bending over backwards for a grown woman who will throw you away the moment you’re inconvenient.
But it’ll never happen it seems and it’s the reason I’m strongly considering divorcing her. I’m over this fucking shit. Oh, and by the way, my wife claims that she’s scared of me etc. now when she tells the story to other people.
I have never and would never hit my wife. I’ve never given her any reason to be afraid of me. So to put that out there on me is absolutely fucking bullshit and I’ve lost all trust in her.
AITAH?

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2024.05.21 22:31 minos157 Race Report: Zieglar Kalamazoo Marathon

Been a few weeks now but I wanted to type up my race report for my first ever marathon finish!

Race Information

Name: Kalamazoo Marathon
Date: May 5th, 2024
Distance: 26.2 miles
Location: Kalamazoo, MI
Website: https://www.zeiglerkalamazoomarathon.com/
Strava: https://www.strava.comhttps://www.strava.com/activities/11340116487 (Note does not match chip time due to starting prior to line and ending a bit after as I forgot to turn watch off immediately!)
Time: 5:40:11.63

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Don't Die	Yes
B	Finish	Yes
C	Sub 6:00	Yes
D	Sub 5:30	No

Splits

Mile	Time
1	11:37
2	11:41
3	12:22
4	12:44
5	12:43
6	12:29
7	12:35
8	12:41
9	12:37
10	12:51
11	12:42
12	12:36
13	12:32
14	12:03
15	14:39
16	13:26
17	13:08
18	13:04
19	13:20
20	14:51
21	13:22
22	12:57
23	12:30
24	12:29
25	13:37
26	14:25
27	13:26

Training

The training journey for this marathon started as a continuation of my original running goals back in April of 2023. In said April my sibling ran a set of Disney races while very pregnant and it lit a, "I can do that" fire under my ass. I signed up for the 5k, 10k, and half during the Princess weekend in february and then the Marathon in Kalamazoo early this year when I decided I actually liked running long distances. So the training went as follows: Couch to 5K, Jeff Galloway 10k, Jeff Galloway fairy tale challenge, then a mix of Jeff's marathon post wine and dine and another random one I found online that fit my schedule better. The training overall went fairly well. I missed a large stretch in September with a foot injury, and missed a few mid-week runs due to life being crazy. The biggest mental wall I hit was when I bonked out at mile 18 of the final long run before the Marathon. I forgot gels and suffered for it, this created a lot of stress heading into the marathon as I'd never run more than 18 and self-doubt heavily creeped in.
As for strength or other training it was basically non-existent. I did a lot of pre-post stretching, massage guns, lacrosse balls, etc. I had a very short period of strength training regime but I heavily lack motivation in that world. Before any future marathons (will be starting Dopey training in July) I will try and get better in this realm, especially lower legs.

Pre-race

Travelled to MI the day before the event. Got into town and settled into the hotel before prowling around town for a few hours. Ate a good pasta heavy meal for dinner at Hop Cat before settling in for the evening.
The morning of the race I got up and dressed before heading to the pre-race area. Had half a leftover turkey/bacon/avocado wrap (my wife's dinner) and a banana nut muffin. Chugged a bunch of water and took some ibuprofen right before race start. Made sure to stretch and keep moving during pre-race ceremonies. This is such a small race that it was nice to just wander up and down the start/finish area. Did a bit to stay warm as it was slightly chilly in the morning at about 50F, but didn't layer up because I knew I'd be fine during the race. Rest of the weather was grey cloudy skies, no rain (rained a bit around mile 13/14 but not much). A very wet race due to humidity.
It was also a fun start line since the only other official races I had done were Disney (Massive crowds, multiple waves in multiple corrals) and a smallish 10k in Chicago that had poor organization and a 2ish person wide starting chute.

Race

Miles 1-2 were fast, I had that starting excitement, my competitive brain just NEEDED to keep up with people around me, but luckily I didn't burn too crazily because I do run/walk intervals (4:30 and 2:00). I did this because my knees always felt better on run/walk than pure run. When I hit mile 2 at under 12/min miles I knew I needed to slow down and did.
Miles 3-14 is where I was truly in my groove. My pace was very consistent, varying mostly for the various crazy hills this course has. I ran for a good 6 or 7 miles bouncing off the 5:30 pace group who would just start to catch me during walk intervals before I'd get space back during run intervals. This is the main meat of the tougher part of the course as well, a lot of rolling hills, some steep, some not, and a run through a park trail passing a lot of non-race walkers on the path. I felt really good during this whole stretch and it really helped me dig in mentally and believe I could finish
Mile 15 - I lost some pace here as I managed to get a rock in my shoe and stopped to dig it out. A bit annoying but I was able to get it pretty quick without my body thinking we were done.
Miles 16-19 I was a bit slower, getting back into my groove of 12:30ish miles was tough because I was all alone at this point and didn't have much around me to gauge off of. The course here was also a bit less exciting as it was longer stretches on non-scenic roads winding back towards downtown Kalamazoo from Portage. I also was attempting to slow down just a tad purposefully as I was approaching that PB of 18 miles and fighting the mental idea that I couldn't finish if I went too fast.
Mile 20 - My slowest mile, I stopped here at a medical tent as the damp air meant I was fully soaked and my inner right bicep managed to get so chaffed that it was bleeding pretty badly. Stopped to let them clean it and apply a bandage so I didn't look like a horror movie victim crossing the line.
Mile 21 - Getting back up to speed after my medical stop and spent a lot of this mile doing the mental math to see if I could finish under 5:30 still, a stretch goal of mine. I'm usually very good at math, it is a strong point of mine, but doing times in my head I managed to come up with that I only needed 13min/miles to meet 5:30. Post race I did the math (By post race I mean while typing this report) and I need to be doing 11:49s so it wasn't happening but because of bad math I got fired up at least 😆
Miles 22-25 - Here, due to bad math above, I managed to get back into my pace groove finally after the previous 8 miles of up and down, rocks and medical issues, etc. I felt really good and it was here that I finally was released from the idea that I wouldn't finish. I actually felt really good and had that great running revelation that my training worked. Everything was starting to hurt, and I could feel the muscles losing their will to live, but I knew I could push through it to the end. I was also somewhere around mile 23/24 that I lost some feeling in my left toes.
Mile 26 - at about 25.5 miles I reentered downtown and spurred by the notion that I was less than a mile out I hit the anti-wall, I felt SO GOOD and just jubilant, right up until my right quad decided to MAJORLY cramp and spasm. It didn't deflate me at all since I knew, at that point, that I had right around an hour to cut off time to do 1 mile, but it hurt BAD. I chugged the rest of my flipbelt water and massaged while I walked for about half a mile. I got it to the point I could run again and I told my leg (out loud in front of spectators and other runners), and I quote, "Just shut the fuck up for a quarter mile you stupid bastard." I'm pretty sure one spectator clutched their pearls but whatever.
Final stretch - at this point I was good, I ran through the slight pain, turned the final corner and crossed the finish line. My first ever marathon in the books and the longs continuous run I had ever done bested by 8.2 miles. My race fuel strategy was a gel every 5 miles with the last at mile 24 instead of 25. I took one extra as a backup that I did use at mile 20 when my stomach started rumbling a bit.

Post-race

Being a smaller marathon the post-race was much calmer. There was a decent sized crowd left for us last 40-50 runners, but my wife was able to just stand in the road behind the finish line, got a good picture of me and all that fun jazz. I rang the first time finisher bell, grabbed a banana and a chocolate milk from the tables and wandered into the post-race expo area with an absolute high of serotonin and self-pride. Grabbed a pork taco from a taco truck before heading to the car, changing shirts, and hitting the road for the 3 hour drive home. Unfortunately I am too slow to have kept my hotel room for a shower after the race, but I was mostly wet and not too sweaty/smelly so the wife didn't have to suffer too much.
As a final piece to this race report I will leave the first train of thoughts that I had after crossing the finish line about the race. It went like this:
"What a stupid distance, I don't understand why anybody does this, it hurts, it's stupid, I'm stupid for doing this, I hated everything about that, and I can't wait to do it again." The rawest reaction which of course now a few weeks later I can look back and see that I didn't hate the race at all, I really enjoyed it, but thought I'd share that funny slew of hatred with everyone.
Thanks for reading.
Made with a new race report generator created by herumph.

submitted by minos157 to running [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 22:17 do_not_look_4_door We Were Driving Cross-Country When We Entered A Tunnel. DO NOT TRY TO FIND IT!

My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.

submitted by do_not_look_4_door to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 21:33 GlassSuitable5156 Please help! What is this?!

I first noticed these things last October. I had dismissed them previously, thinking they were hairs until I saw one move out of the corner of my eye. Upon further inspection, they were all moving and they were EVERYWHERE! I used a blacklight.. some look like tiny long feathers (these move all around but don't crawl), some like wavy fine threads ( move all around, dont crawl), some like straight hairs but have a bent tip that looks like a head (these hang one end off of objects or stand straight up and wave around in the air). See photos... they leave a white dust, are damaging my furniture exactly where their body sits, and I am finding really deep gashes in my furniture that seem to appear overnight. They seem self aware and the threads seem to float through the air with controlled direction. Because I have dealt with these so long I have done many experiments and have ruled out static and wind. I took them to my cats vet to see if they were parasites. He said they weren't and he had no idea. I took them to the master gardeners in my city. They had no idea what they are. Like I said they are all over my house because they blew through the window screen, but they are also on all of my clothes, living in my cats fur, in my front yard and in my car. I can't find any answers from Google. I desperately need to know what they are so I can get rid of them!! Nothing I have tried will kill them. Please help!

submitted by GlassSuitable5156 to pestcontrol [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 21:14 Crazyforrocket2 My (21F)now ex girlfriend broke up with me(23M)a few months ago and I wound meeting with my first love also (21F)who broke up with me but I never gave her closure but after seeing her I feel I may still have feelings for her. I need advice on what I should do and why am I feeling this way?

Ok so this is kind of an update from my last post, the citizens of Reddit helped me with that issue or rather a single citizen, he was correct in saying I should have broken up with my now ex because a few days later she ended up breaking up with me I was kinda stumbling through life after that drinking way to much but I was told by my sister who used to be good friends with my ex the first love that she would be coming to town, she moved away after our breakup had a rough family so they moved a lot. I Hadn’t spoken to her since she broke up with me because of a lot of anger I held towards her, I never felt sad after our breakup either I was just angry with her. When we started dating I was 17 and she was 16 we dated for 2 years almost and she ended it on bad terms when we were 18 and 19 so I never spoke to her again. Fast forward to this weekend when she’s staying with my sister for a few days and I decide to stay too. We wind up hooking up once and having a few really good nights together after we wake up the next morning she said my brother looks sad and thinks he may have feelings for her, she walks him out i his car because he decides to leave ( he walked by the window chasing my sisters cat and saw us in the act) when she gets back she doesn’t really treat me the same says if he does it wouldn’t be fair to him now that she is gone and isn’t really talking to me again I have all these feelings and I think I still love her. I was with my last girlfriend for almost 4 years but that seem like nothing anymore. I’ve just been sad about my first love, why am I feeling this way? I feel like I may just be starting to process our breakup from so long ago but I don’t know why I’m feeling these things. Can someone give me some advice. Or explain why a girl I haven’t seen or talked to in 5 years would be able to make me so depressed just by spending 4 days hanging out around her? Would it be wrong for my brother to date my first love (the one I lost my virginity to)? or is it wrong of me to tell him I don’t want him to date her or try and date her? And why am I having all these felling about her after not seeing her for 5 years. Is it that I didn’t process our breakup to begin with? (TLDR) my ex of 2 years who broke up with me 5 years ago ( I never really processed our breakup because I was angry with her for it) and I saw each other for the first time and I feel like I still have some feelings for her but she doesn’t know if she wants to get back together because she said she thinks my brother may have feelings for her and it wouldn’t be fair to him. So I have been more upset about it than my recent ex girlfriend of 4 years who broke up with me 3 months ago. I don’t understand why and I’m wondering if anyone can tell me why I’m feeling this way or just provide some good ole Reddit advice.

submitted by Crazyforrocket2 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 21:14 Dismal-Giraffe5749 Court assistance

About a month ago I was pulled over for (in his words) “you’re parked in the road blocking traffic.” I in fact was legally parked in my landlords driveway around the corner from my house, I was also not in my car and inside my landlords house talking to him, not sure how legal it is but this cop had come up to my car, ran my plates, got inside my vehicle to look for information since my vin number can’t be made out from the dash (due to design.) He wrote me a ticket for: no insurance (which I had but he wouldn’t let me show), tag being out of date, and wrong tag on the vehicle (that one is true seeing as it was a project car, and it was a nice day to drive around the corner to test it out) he then impounded my car and gave me an $875 ticket. My court date is coming up this week and I caught wind from another officer in my town that he was fired a couple weeks ago for the same situations and doing things he shouldn’t be doing.
The officer I had talked to gave me some advice and what to do in order to get out of the whole ticket but I’d also love some advice from people who may have been in this sort of situation. He had said since the original officer got fired I can go in to court, request the charges be removed since the officer can’t come and represent anymore. For context the officer talking to me and helping me works for the next town over from me. I just need to know if what he is saying is correct before I blow $875 on a ticket I’m not gonna need to pay

submitted by Dismal-Giraffe5749 to legaladvice [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 20:41 MortgageFriendly5511 Cruel to limit toys in a home?

We have a toy closet, several large bins for blocks and Legos and stuffed animals, and another large organizer full of toy cars, dress ups, more stuffed animals, dolls, Playmobil, and barbies. I really want to keep confining the toys to these areas, especially as my kids are too young to be really good at cleaning up toys without my help. As they get into middle school and of course high school I'll be more lenient about what they do with what I consider their spaces. But since I am the one keeping all the toys organized and keeping the Legos separate from the Playmobil and Calico Critters and Barbies (torture for me, I spend SO many hours sorting and putting away), I feel that it is really not unreasonable to set a cap. I just saw a reel where a bunch of young people reminisce about how their parents abused them by taking away toys when they couldn't keep them clean. I agree that storming into a little kid's room with a trash bag and taking their stuff away is cruel and makes kids feel that their possessions aren't important. And yet I can't let my kids just keep all the many, many toys we are given. There just isn't enough space. There are two huge bins of toys in the garage that we have been very happy doing without for months, and I have been side eyeing them and wanting to donate. Would it be harmful if I say that I want to get us down to one large bin of extra stuffies in the garage instead of two?! Help! What are your thoughts?

submitted by MortgageFriendly5511 to Parenting [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 20:36 Im-Gonna-Dunk-It Ending it here..but the door stays open for life...on this plain..in hopes..in case

I dont speak to my kids. One of them even disowned the whole family name legally.
As soon as we divorced you had your other kids dad up in there swiftly and got rid of the last name quickly too.. . He was abusive yet you protected him, kept my non abusive ass at bay with the law, and then made an attempt to COMPLETELY TAKE THE KIDS FROM ME AND KEEP THEM INTEGRATED IN YOUR TOXIC ABUSIVE SITUATION....While ridding them of me because of my toxic ways. It failed because I researched and document enough of your rachet behaviors to keep them in my life. But for some stupid reason I always took your fake well wishes, and word soup at face value. But you were never supportive at all. You just showboated it. Even letting me use the car as when I was working on shit for you...and as soon as someTHING else came along you desired, and feared I might hinder by being a part OF THEIR LIVES you forced me out of their lives... OVER TOTAL FABRICATED LIES, refused to tell me what was my charges against me, and kept me stonewalled for over three years over the lies, AND ALLOWED THE KIDS TO THINK I ABANDONED THEM THE WHOLE TIME we were no contact.
I almost died over that shit. That literally almost killed me. And you dont GAF. Your kids relationship with their father...WAS DEEMED DISPOSABLE BY YOU. It came in last behind your trips, vacays, abusers, feinds that were "part of your friend family", even your style of "open parenting" (aka let them raise themselves while i party, and tour the ether with toxic bunny besties, blasting away the liquid allowances of men with one foot in the grave that had desires of not being lonely and were willing to sponsor "fun lifestyles") (although you did keep them well clothed, well fed, and gave them a great work ethic) was deemed. You decided that their boyfriends moving in with them at your house while they were young teens while you "did your thang girl" retreating, resorting, concerting, and discovering...WAS MORE OF THE SOLID THING TO DO THAN LET THIER DAD COME IN AND PARTAKE IN SOME OF THAT "RAISING".
Am I saying I could have done it better? No. NOT AT ALL.
Im saying you could have been more understanding and more including, and more accepting. You crucified me for the same shit you allowed...REGUARLY CONSISTENTLY FOR YEARS IN THE KIDS LIVES AND PROXIMITY.
Once again Im not saying I could have done it better...but I always trusted you..and figured you would include me with honest intentions. But it was always lip service to have plausible deniability that you held ill will when you came time to discard.
FOR FUCKS SAKE THE FIRST TIME YOU TRIED TO TAKE THE KIDS FROM ME TOTALLY, AND LAYED ALL THE DAMNING EVIDENCE IN FRONT OF YOU WITH "MY OWN HAND WRITTEN CUSTODY AGREEMENT" AND YOU WALKED IN THAT COURT ROOM BARELY EVEN KNOWING WHAT WAS IN THAT LONG AGREEMENT. AND YOU TOLD THE JUDGE "WEVE DECIDED TO COME UP WITH OUR OWN AGREEMENT, AND HAVE IT NOTARIZED" WHEN 30 MINS PRIOR YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD THE KIDS OUT OF MY LIFE "IN THE BAG"
wHAT DID MY AGREEMENT SAY?
i COULD HAVE DESTROYED YOU AND MADE IT TAKE MONTHS OR YEARS TO PROVE YOURSELF FIT..BUT I CHOSE A 50/50 EVERYTHING BECAUSE THATS HOW PPL ARE SUPPOSED TO BE. EVEN IF ONES DOWN AND ONES UP. CO PARTENTS AT LEAST
And you always claimed "the high ground" while doing THIS SHIT. You were all deception and projection...What am I guilty of?.FINANCIAL IMPOTENCY AT THE WORST..Neglect in our together years...and after that lady..you were a liar through and through. Years of fakery. Every kinds word ended up with you trashing me with the refuse. And you always blamed me...Even knowing you were chasing selfish motives and had the discard already set up.
You did me the favor of forgiving a massive amount of child support. Im grateful..but honestly id do time over the forgiving of debt to be with my kids as real family dad and kids...not with "you" I dont even research your life or inquire about it to others. I no longer care. but Id do years to be able to communicate with them, and having a real shot at them knowing me without your long term influence. Id trade just about anything but my soul for a shOT at their open hearts and open minds about me without your "love and care" influencing how they see me.
I have been told by several of your once friends, now ops..that my youngest might not even be mine. But I havent a clue if theres any truth to it, although it makes sense and little dick S ties into that perfectly.
Ive lost you all, youve helped that. I used to long for a you I coulkd trust. Not a you romantically but a you I could love as family and work with in life. I believed in a true you and was in love with you, making you a gold standard of what a good woman is for damn near two decades after we split...through all your lies, deception, projection, discarding, and cutting down...WHILE YOU INFLUENCED THE KIDS THAT I WAS SHIT.
THEY DONT KNOW HALF OF THE MALICOUS TRUTH ABOUT "ME NOT BEING THERE"
YOUR HALF...A BIG HALF
I keep saying I forgive and hold no ill will. but i am deeply firey inferno type angry. I want to take my aquarius air sign capabilities...and stoke and bellow fires to carbonized you landscapes earth sign. I want to blow waters upon your scorched earth and turn it to dark brown mud. I want to starve your barren mud pits of oxygen so green grass or plant of life wont inhabit it. And in the sorrows that come with stripping you down with my furious wrath of air..at your darkest..I want to send tornadoes, hurricanes, dust storms, and ravaging wind storms to keep you uncomfortable and in chaos...not even allowed to enjoy the "calm and peace in the depression of the mudscape"
But my fury will stay composed. you arent worth the exertion of my energy anymore. because you are not a person i know...and you are not someone who i have known since our divorce, and you havent allowed me to know the real you, or tried to know the real me.
I speak to the void, and leave you be..
but if these winds start to blow into a tempest they would rip apart all of your beauty..and decimate EVERYTHING YOU APPRECIATE, LOVE, OR WANT TO KEEP WITH YOU INTO PIECES...
the wind has nothing to lose..you cant take away from it..you cant add to it...you can just influence it and pressure it in your earthen vessels. It can starve fire of O2, Starve your green growths and florals of life, steer and stoke flames to carbonize your whole surface level facade, it can catalyze and thunderstorms, tornadoes, and hurricanes to pelt your surface...and wash you down to tho the levels of molecular sediment in the seas... and what you take from air displaces and when it comes back around..it is still air..whole and intact..even if its polluted...blowing in anger fires, floods, and storms upon you...driving frozen seas ashore on your beaches puncturing your picturesque places of dreams with daggers by the millions, slowly forcing the way inward...multiplying in number
So let me say since my kid changed the name legally, you changed yours too, and the other may or may not be mine but hates and has disowned me anyway...that if there are past lives, next lives, soul bonds or eternal connections...they end here and now. like YOU wanted, but used your motherly influence over time spanning times to make them feel that its exactly what they wanted too.
the complete opposite of what i want, or have ever wanted.
.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.''.'

UNLESS there is some major major changes that happen on this 3d plain FROM YOU, AND YOUR BULLSHIT, ACCOUNTABILITY AND TOXICITY, COMMUNICATION, COMPASSION AND REMORSE....

Then spiritually , In front of The Lord as I believe. I release any and all connections to you. Asking that it ends here and my knowledge of you, and ties to you be broken... in heaven, in earth, and any and all realms and plains of existence, embodiment, life, and after life.
And I write this should I suddenly meet my demise and we never "got equal in spirit" on this plain...so it can be effective if God is willing at the point of my ending.
count your blessing because if was set off in untamable rage... everying on you, around you, that you shelter, that you desire, that you hold dear, that you value, that you enjoy, that you trust, rthat you associate with...,and that makes you... you gets decimated...and you get decimated...and all this destruction becomes an integrated part of my decimation of my own self...my rage...with nothing to lose....everyone and everything would see loss and suffering.
Glad this wind is mature enough to hurt and still be kind and compassion to ppl and frogiving of the human ways of selfishness....i cant waste another breath...im good ppl. and you hurt me IN THE DARKEST WAYS...
but i want to help ppl grow...and benefit ppl...
not hurt them...
thats what makes me stronger than you too

submitted by Im-Gonna-Dunk-It to letters [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 20:35 Serjohn01 Scariest optical illusion i experienced in my life.

I'm 19 I live in greece. (drinking age is 18) It's christmas 3-4 in the morning and im returning home from a nice night out, it was pretty chill many friends showed up but nothing crazy happened, just laughing sharing stories, noone got shitfaced, no drama, no break ups/hook ups. It was really pleasant.
I live on what it is called ''grape rows'', its usually a huge extremely busy road connecting to the city and behind it, rows upon rows of houses all next to each other, those streets are pretty quiet which was cool growing up because we could play sports on the street. Every 500meters or so there would be a connecting road connecting you to all the other roads. As you go up the grape rows, street lights become scarce. At first you see the two street light lights meeting each other. As you go up there is a street light then 300meters of darkness then another light. I live at the tipy top of the grape rows.
This night happened to be extremely windy, so windy you could barely hear anything, as i'm coming close to a connecting road i make sure to look left and right in case i dont hear a car coming up. On my right about 500-300 meters away from me, i see a white square perfectly hovering 1,3 meters from the street. At first i thought it might be an albatross sitting on a garbage bin, and the bin beneath its not visible, but why would a garbage bin be in middle of the street ? then i thought it might be a white suitcase on top of a black car but still with all the windows of a car there is still some reflection even from from a black car. I kept staring at this thing. I started noticing it was very slowly coming towards me. There was literally nothing beneath it, this white square was not making any living moves, it was perfectly hovering.
Then 2 sticks came from the side of it, making it shaped like a cross, then the white square started coming towards very fast. I started sprinting with everything i got. I never looked back. It was really windy, it was so noisy, i could only hear my breathing and my heart beat, which made me focus on my run, the wind gave a nice breeze towards my face and the adrenalin was making my sprint effortless. After 4.5 kilometers of running my legs shut down, like a switch i fell on the street. I look back the white cross its almost at me.
The white cross stops, i hear laughing. A neighbour was sitting on the steering wheel of a black bicycle, Completely covering the driver of the bicycle, and the bicycle itself, He was wearing a glow in the dark long sleeve shirt and the rest of his outfit was black. He was holding his arms out while the other guy was bicycling behind him. The bicycle is surpisingly thin if you look at it facing you.
The neighbour said while laughing, ''you must have looked at your face, you were so scared, did you think we were gypsies?''. First of all thats racist. But i didnt want to admit what i trully thought, I believed in alien/ghost hybrids for 30 minutes while running for my life.

submitted by Serjohn01 to TrueScaryStories [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 20:31 Domengoenfuego The pebble

Back many years ago a boy was born, and that boy was named Seok Mujuk.
Now Seok was a very…special boy growing up. Unlike his mother and grandmother he had zero sense when it came to how money worked, and In general he was just terrible at anything logical. He didn’t care for trains, or cars, or even super heroes either, so what did he care for? The only thing he truly cared for…was construction sites. No, care for isn’t the right word, obsessed with is the correct term for it. His parents themselves didn’t even really know why. One day while Seok was 5 and was playing with his legos and figuring things out about construction his mother gently squatted down next to him. “Hey precious jag-eun dol~ what are you building?” she said with a kind smile. Seok didn’t even look up as he was focusing. He had trouble with words even at this age. “…building thingy…” he said as he pointed at a picture of a construction site he had his grandma print out. His mom looked surprised. “hmm? Why? Don’t you want to be something really cool like an astronaut or a scientist? Maybe even a veterinarian?” Seok just shook his head. “no. People live in buildings. Good buildings make people happy.” he finally looked up after measuring the blocks and making sure they were stable with a smile, he had a gap in his teeth. “I wanna make people happy with building!” Seok’s mom gently smiled and giggled. “oh so an architect then?” Seok shook his head again. “no! That’s boring! I wanna build it! I wanna be like this guy!” he said as he held up a Lego construction worker to her face. His mother was confused again. “…Seok, honey, that’s great but…they usually don’t get that much money, and have to do all this hard work-“ then she paused as she looked him in the eye, he would not budge on this no matter what. She just sighed and chuckled as she rubbed his head affectionately. “well…if that’s the case then…go do what you love my jag-eun dol~” Seok giggled happily and nodded.

submitted by Domengoenfuego to OCism_official [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 19:33 Mr_witty_name Everything Dies; Volume 1, issue 1; Summer in New York (illustration by one of my players)

Last night we played the first session of Everything Dies and, since I've been taking about it so much on here, I thought I might recap it here for my sake and for anyone whose interested.
Our Heroes
Coriolis: storm chaser whose high tech armor allows him limited control of the weather
Gamble: cat burglar armed with trick cards. Thought he was learning card tricks when he was being trained as a sorcerer
Zap-Daddy: just got average blue collar mutant trying to do what's right without revealing his identity
Bear Man Bear: he's not a man that turns into a bear, he's a bear that turns into a man.
The story;
The earth is getting hotter. Today specifically the sub burns and boils the sweaty sticking masses. It's swealterinh, it's smelly, it's miserable. It's summer in New York. Out on Coney Island a well suited man is running across the beach, arms overflowing with cash he stole off a man he lost a bet too. Throwing down a playing card, he disappears in a puff of smoke. Out on the beach, a raggedy man hauls complicated technological equipment. He knows a storm is coming, even if no one will believe him. He walks past a burly middle aged man fighting with a hot dog vendor. The man is scarfing down food but won't pay, apparently he's unfamiliar with the concept. All the while high winds threaten to tip over the Viking boat ride. There's a worker who leaves his friends to try and stabilize the ride. Before he has to change forms though, others come to assist.
The worker, Zap-Daddy, moved back to his friends after a small applause. He's at the boardwalk today with his "friend" from work, Chuck, and chuck's girlfriend. Together they talk for a bit about how the news says The Avengers, The X Men, The Fantastic 4, even Spider-Man they're all out of town. But hey, as long as the punisher's still around Chuck feels safe. Zap-Daddy ignores him when he's approached by a man in Green coveralls and rubber gloves/boots. He some kind of janitor who wants to talk to this average guy who was just so heroic. The man ask about his life, if he ever feels things are "off", what he would do if he could change one thing in the universe. The longer they talk, the more zap-daddy realizes the world around him as stopped moving. The janitor leaves as soon as ZD gets suspicious. He says it's nice to talk to somebody, that the only name he remembers is M.M., and that Zap-Daddy should try and get somewhere high up. And the world starts back up again. Meanwhile Bear Man Bear has accidently knocked out the hot dog vendor. Putting some distance between himself and the kart, he finds himself at a beach party. But quickly he realizes he's the but if the joke and yet again, this time after failing to understand Volleyball, he's hurt another person without meaning to. Under the boardwalk Gamble is hiding out when he crosses by the old(ish) man who taught him magic; an eccentric dower man named Wynn. Wynn is under the walk with a friend of his, Dimitri, and he claims to be there on work. Despite his usual demeanor, Wynn is happy to see Gamble. He's trying to see if Gamble can figure out why Wynn and Dimitri are here, but it's no use. Suspicion grows as Gamble attempts to read Dimitri's mind but finds himself unable to. Wynn takes off to see his ex wife but not before stopping to pick up a penny. A penny with, not Abraham Lincoln on the front, but John Wilkes Booth. Flabbergasted, Gamble uses his ESP to try and find nearby sources of magic. He gets crazy readings off of Wynn and Dimitri, as well as 3 people near the beach who have been singled out by something he can't determine. On the opposite end of the beach Coriolis is attempting to explain his equipment to a lifeguard when he's approached by an old rival. A butch lady named Gloria whose just in town to convince the judge that her ex, Janet, doesn't really need all this restraining order crap. She makes fun of him for these supposed "green tornados" he's been seeing, but Coriolis isn't paying attention. He's too focused on the odd readings he's getting from way out in the ocean. Crazy barometric pressure, but no abnormal air pressure in the higher atmosphere. Something is messing with things purposefully and outside the regular laws of nature.
As Zap-Daddy leaves he sees the mutant fashion designer Jumbo Carnation out on the street. He has to stop Chuck from doing something heinous. He cuts off his friendship with the man and finds somewhere private to change into his electric form. Taking to the sky, he scans the horizon trying to find whatever danger M.M. had eluded to. All he can see are crowds of people, loved ones, strangers, each of them a single aspect of a larger super organism. Soon he turns his eye to the tide, relaxing as he watches it come in and out and in and out and in and out and out and out and out and out and out. Soon he can see the very floor of the sea. Gamble watches from below the boardwalk as people flee, leaving their belongings behind. Coriolis changes into his armor and Bear Man Bear hears people screaming. There's a new word on their lips, one he hasn't heard before: tsunami.
A 120 foot wave is approaching from the ocean. There's one building on Coney Island, a luxury apartment building, that's high enough to get above the wave and there's two land masses, part of New York State, that the wave will have to pass before it gets to the shore. Gamble made his way to the parking lot where he hot wired a motorcycle to try and make it to the building. The workers on the boardwalk abandoned their posts, leaving two people at the top of the Ferris wheel and the cyclone full of riders. Zap-Daddy took it on himself to save him. Knowing he could only take two at a time, it was inevitable that the wave would hit before he got them all to safety. Bear Man Bear took two children on his back and reunited them with their mother before taking off for safety. Coriolis went out to face the wave itself. He created a wind storm to try and slow the tidal wave, saving one of the land masses and effectively cutting it down to half it's previous size. But in doing so he discovered, with infrared vision, some mammoth warm blooded creature below the water.
As people panicked, an elevated train jumped off the tracks, it's wheels still sparking electric death. BUT as the wave was smaller now, shorter buildings became more viable safe havens. Gamble was able to save scores of people by unlocking a nearby office building with one of his trick cards. It also gave Bear Man Bear a place to take the unconscious taxi driver he had saved from a car crash. Zap-Daddy had figured out how to carry four people at a time instead of two, but it would still leave two people on the cyclone he couldn't save. While all this was happening Coriolis made a call to The Avengers Tower, they sent the only two people left in the city; Captain America and The Wasp. Seconds before the wave hit the shore, Coriolis saved the last two people on the cyclone and Zap Daddy distributed the electrical circuits of the train, stopping the imminent threat. He also happened to find Chuck, pinned beneath rubble, calling for help. He knocked Chuck out before carrying him to safety, barely missing the wall of water as it obliterated the boardwalk. Bear Man Bear was still bringing an old man up the stairs as water poured in. He was able to get the old man behind an elemental wall that Coriolis had constructed, which saved the civilians. Yet the force of the wave knocked Coriolis out of the sky. With Zap-Daddy high in the sky, Coriolis falling out of it, Captain America and The Wasp arriving on the scene, and Gamble and Bear Man Bear on the roof with the majority of the people, the street of New York lay flooded.
Soon the very ground shook as a massive beast emerged from the waters. On its back stood blue men in Aztec garb, armed with extraordinary weapons. Their leader, the man who held the reigns of the beast, blew his war horn and called out "Giganto! Advance! Atlanteans! Kill any surface dweller you may find! For the glory of Namor! For the glory of The Seas! So commands Attuma!"
While captain America and The Wasp spent most of their time leaping from rooftop to rooftop, our Heroes started at the crux of the battle. Zap-Daddy and Coriolis focused their efforts on Giganto while Gamble and BMB made it their mission to protect the civilians from the Atlantean soldiers. As a great lightning storm sprung forth from Coriolis' armor, they were able to stop the monster inches before it could get to any people. Tho Gamble and Bear Man Bear were dealing with the soldiers on the roof, they were quickly overwhelmed by the soldiers firing from atop the unconscious monster. As Attuma cast Captain America into the sea, the Wasp attempted to help with the soldiers. The heavy hitters could focus their fire now on Attuma, at least until he jumped into the water and started to heal. As Coriolis was looking for him under the sea, he figured out Attuma must be cold blooded so, in a stroke of genius, he simply flooded the water. Attuma was able to break out of the ice, but it was too late. His heart rate has slowed too much. As Attuma fell unconscious, he began to change. His skin shifted from a light blue hue to a deep green, his eyes changed to a horrid yellow look, his ears grew long and pointed, and his single chin split into four. There atop the frozen waters of a New York heat wave, lay a dying skrull.

submitted by Mr_witty_name to MarvelMultiverseRPG [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 18:53 VSkyRimWalker Everybody is posting their Launch Towers, so I'll join: Review of and amazing MOC by Janotechnic

I sincerely do not understand how he came up with this thing. It's huge, and super complex. Normal MOCs I can understand, but these giant Technic ones are miles above me.
Short Review: - The motors struggle a bit with all the functions, but they do work!

Biggest pain was scouring together all 3 composite sets: Rough Terrain Crane, Bucket Wheel Excavator and Car Transporter
Subsequent sorting of parts needed also took as much, if not more, time as building did. Very happy with the result though.
Construction itself was fairly easy and straightforward, which is good, because there are only 5 'steps' in building this behemoth, so of you notice leftover parts after completing one, it's almost impossible to go back. I did leave out one gear in the end, so my unit can't actually drive, but I wasn't going to use that anyway, and now at least the threats can move manually, so it worked out in the end.
The only part of construction that was genuinely hard was threading the rope through the entire thing, and adding the crane on top took using some force that Lego wouldn't consider legal, although not enough that it worried me.

TLDR: An amazing MOC that is well worth the price, provided you don't mind spending a few evenings sorting parts first

submitted by VSkyRimWalker to lego [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 18:50 DogeLuck Fully in depth report of 5 days without power in Texas Heat

At the time of this post 145 thousand people are still without power going on almost 6 days without power. Tornado wiped out our power grid in select areas throughout Texas (I believe the number was about 800 thousand people got hit without power). Here's some things I learned and a situation report of my experience living with a very large family of mixed ages.
Context: We had been getting hit with some pretty gnarly weather however business as usual in Texas. I didn't think much of it usually when our grids down they're pretty quick to respond minus the snow storm years back. So when I heard there was a storm brewing I didn't even flinch I always keep some very very basics, battery's, lights, water, 2 weeks minimum of non perishable foods, self defense protection, and ammo, etc. But I hardly consider myself a prepper anymore, but I know some people don't even have that.
I use to be really on top of my preps overtime, however my stockpile had dwindled, as did my thirst for knowledge and hands on experience/training. I just honestly wasn't on top of my game anymore, and quit taking this as serious years ago. This tornado really brought me back to reality, so this post is mostly for entry level preppers looking at some practical advice from a 5 day experience, I fully regret the fact I quit taking this serious years ago.
First Day: Around 6pm, emergency alert on phone stating tornado in your area, seek shelter immediately. Thought ok let's shelter in the master bedroom closet. Wind rocked the house pretty good, could hear limbs from tree's falling, within about 10 minutes the power shuts off, and glancing outside within a hour the streets flooded. The storm had died down, as did the flooding, and it was time to asses the damage in the immediate area. Got in the car, power had blown out pretty much every store/house within a several mile zone. Found one square zone with a few places that had power, got some fast food but waited about 30 minutes because everyone went there.
What I wish I had on day one/ and general notes:
Rain boots: The streets had not only flooded but was blocked by limbs in the roadway. Luckily our flooding wasn't too severe but had it been I wish I did have rainboots so normal shoes didn't get soaked, or some type of beach sandals, etc.
Chainsaw, electric saw, axes, regular saw: Would of come in handy if the limbs in our area blocking the road were any bigger.
Higher up vehicles: Some vehicles couldn't make it through the flood due to being so low to the ground, so take into account your vehicles.
More variety of quality flashlights: Electric Lanterns came in clutch, but wish I had more handhelds, head mounted, and higher end lanterns.
Battery Inventory checks: Wish I had not only more batteries cause you really do burn through these quick, but wish I had checked all my lights battery condition, and stored new batteries in waterproof containers.
Alternative sources to battery's: Not a huge fan of candles due to fire risk, but some not scented beeswax or soy based candles would of came in handy to help ration battery supply. Maybe glass lanterns as well for safety and ease of transport. Glowsticks would of been great option too.
Car chargers: Believe it or not some of us didn't have car chargers for our cell phones cause we mostly charge our phones at home, although we were able to share, wish we had this on day one for all our phones.
Fully charged portable battery bank, or portable phone chargers: If we had this we wouldn't of been out in our cars late at night charging stuff putting us at more risk for being possible victims to crime.
Quality of cell phone, and cellphone provider: Have a POS phone but keep putting off upgrading it? Don't. Luckily mine was good but some of our cellphone providers carriers had better signal then others, some of are phones were in bad shape and it was noted we wish we didn't put off upgrading it sooner. You can't predict how well your provider will do but maybe do your research, unsure how this works but now I can do my research and learn from it. I had 0 issues with boost mobile but other family members weren't so lucky.
Cash: This is obvious but due to us moving towards a cashless society its pretty uncommon, but this would of came in handy due to how many places didn't have power. You can do so much with cash.
Battery powered or rechargeable camping fans: I did have one of these, it even had a light but wish I had more.
Larger ice chest: Now we had a few, but they were smaller. We lost everything in our fridge/freezer besides canned drinks, I mean everything. We had just bought grocery's too, lesson learned.
OTC sleeping medication: We had melatonin, and Tylenol pm, but it was so quiet you could hear a mouse sneeze a block over, until the generators turned on. First two are OK options but given its only going to be cool at night, and we knew tomorrow would be hot, we took kratom to sleep. Check your area some states it's illegal, not recommending it but it's what we used. I wish I had stockpiled more kratom, I took it when I got the flu on top of C word to relieve body aches and found out it really helped me sleep and ease pain/stress. Usually cycle this 3 days on max, one day off to prevent habit forming.
(This is really for day two + but ill post this here cause I noticed it on day one)
Backup supply of my personal vices or quitting personal vices: I know this may sound stupid but I am fully addicted to caffeine, and nicotine. I picked my poison and know what I signed up for. Caffeine really? yeah really not sure if you know this but for some people caffeine withdrawal can make you really suffer, and I mean really suffer check out decaf. I was in the process of lowering my caff intake to 1 cup of tea a day, and quit soda. Was one month off soda before the storm came in, but had to relapse due to us not carrying high caff tea on supply.
But yeah stock up on your vices so you aren't going through withdrawals during an emergency. Was on 3mg per ml of nicotine and had to dish out 30$ for a disposable vape thats 50mg per ml at a gas station on day two to prevent withdrawals. So I was on way higher dose of nic then usual due to only being able to purchase what I could find, for reference 50mg per ml if you use that in 10 days thats about a pack of ciggs worth of nic per day. So yeah either quit your vice or stock up, I don't advocate hard drugs at all so this isn't for that but this is mainly aimed at coffee/caff use, etc. Instant coffee packs may be great for some people.
Battery powered radio: Can't stress enough how mentally taxing silence can be long term. We had one, but the battery port crapped out. Lesson learned, test your preps.
Backup food for your pet friends: Luckily I was pretty good on pet food but imagine if I wasn't, and this was more severe.
Water situation: Had a decent amount of drinking water, we had running water. If we didn't I would say I wish I had filled up the giant jugs I bought for flushing the toilet/doing dishes or running through a berkey water filter if we ran out of drinking water. I had bought 5 gallon blue jugs specifically for this years back. However I cleaned them out, and didn't refill, Lesson learned.
2nd Day: We were able to cook some stuff on a gas stove, luckily. People at gas stations were stocking up on ice, filling their gas cans up for their generators, and shelves were getting empty at stores with power only on some things though wasn't too bad cause the power outage was scattered some had power, others didn't. Mostly a waiting game at this point, most of the preps I wish I had on this day were the same as day one, but ill toss in some stuff I wish I had. Obtained a portable battery powered radio, the morale boost was real for everyone, even the dogs.
What I wish I had on day two/ and general notes:
BBQ style lighters to light gas stove: We had two but recently tossed em out due to being empty. Realized I had no bics, and only had one box of matches, feels bad man.
Entertainment: Board games like checkers, board games for kids, chess, basic poker set, etc. These would of been awesome and a great way to keep the kids entertained and the adults, the boredom was real. We hit local goodwill's that had power to look for radios, and cheap prep supplies and games, but no luck.
Third day: By then reality set in for most people, neighbors who could afford to do so booked hotels or bugged out to places with power. The generators really started up by day three, everyone was buying gas for them and you could hear them in almost every direction. Pretty sure some people had it from the start but noticed them more by day three. A lot of people were sitting outside the front of their homes trying to escape the heat. Ice from most places were completely sold out, so you had to really shop around to find any.
Finding news about the power outage day 1-3 was kind of hit and miss, KHOU news updates were pretty short and it took us some time to know how severe the storms damage actually was, cause we were focused on trying to get stuff done around the house and conserving battery. I believe at one point CenterPoint's actual website went down. Mostly resulted to local news channels, and nextdoor app. We couldn't watch live news and had to rely on when KHOU posted youtube videos.
Private security company's hired guards and they started patrolling certain stores that could afford the security, obviously to deter looters. Traffic everywhere was insane in every which direction during peak hours more then usual, PD presence was pretty high, more then usual.
What I wish I had on day three/ and general notes:
Generator: Pretty obvious why, had no experience with them but wish I did, and wish I bought one pre-blackout when I was more into prepping and took time to learn about them and how to use and maintain them properly.
Ham radio: Or something to pick up on local freqs to monitor radio comms for information regarding the storm and local activity if any. I think this may of been better then waiting on local news to post videos.
Day Four: Buddy had power so he dropped off his generator and gave me quick instructions on how to run it, how far away to place them, etc. By day four the temps really ramped up, and this thing definitely kept us cool. When you think of bartering you think of some post apocalypse stuff, but no. In reality you can barter during any emergency, buddy dropped it off free of charge but was able to offer some booze as a thank you. So even if you don't drink stock up on booze/ciggs to barter, never know what you might trade it for. Times are tough in this economy and I honestly didn't have much money to spare, family had to pool our funds together to get last minute preps to survive this, cause we didn't know how long this would really last. In certain areas they said it could be weeks. However the alcohol was a small thank you that I could afford and he was happy so all worked out.
Gas cans were sold out, and extension cord supply's were looking extremely low at local hardware store. From what I overheard they also completely sold out of generators. Honestly wish I knew more about electrical stuff but my buddy gave me a small crash course in wiring everything. You can't just plug it in and pray for the best. Bought the best gauge extensions cords I could afford for our needs, and the distance and hooked it up.
We ran one bedroom AC unit, fans for the dogs, wired a light, and a charging station. Also don't cheap out on gas cans it's not worth blowing your face off or starting a fire, or having it leak. If you get a generator do your research on how to properly run it, and safely fill it. Crime in this area can be fairly high we've had a few drive by shootings and other not so good police involved things. Read this book along time ago about post collapse security, so I blacked out our windows so when we turned lights on no one knew we had power. You may hear the generator, but from the street we look like we don't have anything going for us. My biggest fear was looters from people who were less fortunate or really down bad. We near a common site for homeless people as well so they foot traffic the area.
Generators are very loud, between that and listening to the radio 12 hours a day, I was beginning to audio hallucinate lyrics that weren't there with the radio off, and suffered from heat exhaustion. That and the fact we had homeless in our area and tweekers who might loot I was running off adrenaline a bit. 24 hours almost that night without sleep, and didn't even feel tired. Slept near my firearm until my family woke up at daylight and when daylight hit I knew we were in the clear and I passed out.
What I wish I had on day fou and general notes:
Knowledge of generators.
Knowledge about electricity/wiring them safely.
Security: Some type of physical alarm bell to put on the door like metal door knob alarm bells so it jingles if anyone enters to alert the dogs, had to keep the door slightly cracked so the wires hooked up to the generator would fit. So we couldn't lock the door, which is probably where my anxiety of tweekers coming in came from.
Day Five: Same shit different day, power came on that evening.
Conclusion: Just cause it doesn't look like societal collapse or WW3 prep your shit for emergency's native to your area or go beyond, idc but prep. They ain't coming to help for awhile, or at all if it's very severe...so it's up to you and your community to pull through. This was a wake up call, thanks for coming to my prep talk.

submitted by DogeLuck to preppers [link] [comments]

2024.05.21 18:35 BinkReddit TJ Bluetooth Happiness

Just wanted to quickly write this up in the hopes of helping someone else on the same quest; I spent way too much time on learning the pros and cons of each device and figured I might as well share my experience and help my fellow Jeepers.
My factory radio works well, but it doesn't grok Bluetooth, so I can never hear my favorite songs when I want to. In addition, I was tired of using my phone for navigation and being unable to hear the audible navigation prompts when doing ~70 on the highway with no doors and no top. I thought of replacing the radio with something modern, but the radio still works, I like the factory look, and any radio with an LCD will get outdated, and I'll likely wind up using my phone for this stuff anyway as a result of having the apps get frequently updated. So, I started my quest for Bluetooth with a factory radio.
Up first was https://www.discountcarstereo.com/blu-chry02.html, but I couldn't get it to work. Technical support was excellent, they even worked with me on weekends, but it just wasn't happening. Ultimately I returned the product, but, perhaps, it was for the best as the device has some limitations that my current solution does not.
My next effort was with https://www.1factoryradio.com/collections/all/products/chrysler-2005-2006-2007-sebring-radio-am-fm-compact-disc-player-with-bluetooth, which is wonderful, innovative and truly plug-and-play, but the quality of the Bluetooth audio wasn't good enough for me. Technical support here was also beyond excellent, but I chose not to proceed as, for the price, I expected a better Bluetooth implementation and my factory radio still worked.
Lastly, I went with https://gromaudio.com/store/bt3_adapters/chrysler-dodge-jeep-02-09-bluetooth-adapter-car-kit-interface.html and I couldn't be happier. The Bluetooth audio sounds good, I can move back and fourth in a playlist with the native controls on the factory radio, and even the mic that comes with the kit is of decent quality. While the price is too high, ultimately I bit the bullet as this solution is superior to the others. If it helps others, here's how I mounted the module, but I'd love to know how others wind up mounting this if you go down this route:
https://preview.redd.it/yeer87tk3t1d1.jpg?width=4080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e749d9fda25914ad8de80cf766fac1ebde934959
Also, I have not been paid by anyone to do this write-up and I paid for everything here with my own money.
Hope this helps someone else!
Cheers.

submitted by BinkReddit to JeepWrangler [link] [comments]

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