Pig roasters plans

The new "terrorist". Be afraid, citizen. I SAID BE AFRAID!

2014.10.15 17:40 The new "terrorist". Be afraid, citizen. I SAID BE AFRAID!

2013.06.13 15:11 KrisCraig Atheism Liberation: Resistance HQ

This subreddit is dedicated toward liberating /atheism from tyranny.

2024.05.19 17:46 shakespearest Breed reccs 💓

Hello all!
My family and I recently lost our elderly Yorkshire Terrier, and I’ve been researching the best breed for a future prospect. Our Yorkie was 10 when we got her, and lived to 18.
I’m a sighthound lover but I don’t think they’d be best for my family’s wants and needs- although possibly a whippet. Also interested in wire dachshunds.
Introduction
1) Will this be your first dog? If not, what experience do you have owning/training dogs? This will be my family’s second dog, but I have worked with dogs for years in daycare, rescue and now grooming. I have a dog first aid certificate and a dog behaviour qualification, I’m pretty savvy.
2) Do you have a preference for rescuing a dog vs. going through a reputable breeder Open to rescue, feel a scruffy terrier mix could work but as my family aren’t as savvy I’d prefer very little reactivity and fearfulness which is rife with rescue dogs near me. Also, if I was opting for a Dachshund for example, I’d want to be sure it was raised in ways that will lessen chances of IVDD, and socialised properly, neutered after 1yo etc etc. So may depend on breed.
3) Describe your ideal dog. We’d like a happy, sociable dog who’s pretty biddable, able to go off lead and interested in some trick learning. Good off switch, happy with 1-2 hours adventuring a day and snoozing in the evenings, preferably not overly intense or drivey, and minimal prey drive. Preferably not brachy or bully.
4) What breeds or types of dogs are you interested in and why? I’d love a whippet for the family, but they prey drive and recall might be a barrier, and my dad isn’t a huge fan of their looks. I think a wire Dachshund would tick most boxes, but the health issues worry me! Working cocker could work, but a LOT of dog there! Same with a JRT. A poodle (mini or toy) would be amazing but the grooming upkeep is a lot!
5) What sorts of things would you like to train your dog to do? Lots of functional training - loose leash, settle, not door dashing etc, plus lots of fun party tricks essentially. I really enjoy teaching ‘play dead’ and things of that nature. Would love to do agility.
6) Do you want to compete with your dog in a sport (e.g. agility, obedience, rally) or use your dog for a form of work (e.g. hunting, herding, livestock guarding)? If so, how much experience do you have with this work/sport? Not experienced but I’d be interested in agility, dock diving, Confo.
Care Commitments 7) How long do you want to devote to training, playing with, or otherwise interacting with your dog each day? Training could be 10-60 mins, play time and enrichment as needed really. My parents are retired and quite old but pretty active, and can be home most of the day, the dog is also welcome to join me at the grooming shop where dogs would be in and out all day.
8) How long can you exercise your dog each day, on average? What sorts of exercise are you planning to give your dog regularly and does that include using a dog park? 1-2ish hours daily, walking, possibly agility/ dock diving, in England ‘dog parks’ aren’t really a thing, but pup would be likely to run into off leash dogs on walks.
9) How much regular brushing are you willing to do? Are you open to trimming hair, cleaning ears, or doing other grooming at home? If not, would you be willing to pay a professional to do it regularly? No double coats please! I’d rather it not be a dog with long hair that needs brushing every day or two- would much prefer a smooth or wire coat.
Personal Preferences 10) What size dog are you looking for? X Small to Medium.
11) How much shedding, barking, and slobber can you handle? Minimal shedding, minimal barking, no slobber! 🙈
12) How important is being able to let your dog off-leash in an unfenced area? Like 7/10 important, would be heavily preferred.
Dog Personality and Behavior 13) Do you want a snuggly dog or one that prefers some personal space? Snuggly and pretty Velcro but happy to be left alone.
14) Would you prefer a dog that wants to do its own thing or one that's more eager-to-please? Eager to please is preferable.
15) How would you prefer your dog to respond to someone knocking on the door or entering your yard? Not really, but happy to work on this in training. Not a huge deal one way or the other.
How would you prefer your dog to greet strangers or visitors? Anything from aloof to friendly.
16) Are you willing to manage a dog that is aggressive to other dogs? No.
17) Are there any other behaviors you can't deal with or want to avoid? 🤔
Lifestyle 18) How often and how long will the dog be left alone? Mostly this won’t be necessary, but they should be able to be alone comfortably. At most it’d likely be 3/4 hours or so.
19) What are the dog-related preferences of other people in the house and what will be their involvement in caring for the dog? Mostly like scruffy ungroomed things. I prefer sighthounds but again, probably not the best fit for everyone! Two brothers who mostly just want a fuss sometimes, parents who will do most of the walking and me who will be more on the grooming, training, activities side. I’m the youngest and I’m 26.
20) Do you have other pets or are you planning on having other pets? What breed or type of animal = they? I have two guinea pigs, but they may not be here when this happens. They’re locked in my room at almost all times.
21) Will the dog be interacting with children regularly? No.
22) Do you rent or plan to rent in the future? If applicable, what breed or weight restrictions are on your current lease? House is owned.
23) What city or country do you live in and are you aware of any laws banning certain breeds? South East England, the banned breeds are bully breeds.
24) What is the average temperature of a typical summer and winter day where you live? Summer 25-30Cish, winter 0-7ish?

submitted by shakespearest to dogs [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 17:37 WallStLT 1982. CIA lies about Central America?!?! Say it ain’t so! 🔗

submitted by WallStLT to LatinAmericanSociety [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 16:16 Im_The_One Itinerary Advice: 7 days, first time in Japan (Osaka, Kyoto, Tokyo) - please help us not overwhelm or burn ourselves out by doing too much lol

I've tried to do a fair amount of research and come up with an itinerary that I think works well based on locations for everything. It's 4 of us in July (25-30 years old). Would love any recommendations or if anyone thinks we have too much planned on any days or if anything might not work.
We're all pretty easy going, love to experience new cultures, and won't say no to trying many new things. Really want to have a focus on food being a big part of the trip, but only have 2 reservations. The rest of the places listed in the itinerary are not set in stone, but just placed to check out if it works out. Only thing we don't really care about is the clubbing/partying scene.

In Osaka, we'll be staying in the Namba district with one Day trip to Kyoto.
In Tokyo, we'll be staying in Asakusa.

We'll be coming from South Korea so shouldn't have to worry too much about the adjusting to the time change from the US. None of our train rides within Japan are booked yet though.
Day 1: Friday
17:00 - Get to Osaka
18:00 - Find hotel in Namba area.
Evening: Explore Dotomburi district for dinnebars/drinks
Day 2: Saturday
Coffee: Barista Map Coffee Roasters
11:30 - Lunch: Marubushi Tsukemen
Midday:

Rent bikes and bike around Osaka Castle/site see
Shinsekai district (shopping)

20:15 - Omakase reservation (1 Michelin star)
We don't have a ton planned this day so if anyone has additonal recommendations, I would love to hear them
Day 3: Sunday (Kyoto Day Trip)
6:00 AM - Train Osaka - Kyoto
7:00 AM - Inari Shrine/Gates - hike/explore (3 mile loop)
10:00 AM - Coffee: Kurasu
1:00 PM - Lunch (open to recommendations)
3:00 PM - Monkey Palace Optional - depending on how much time we spend at Inari shrine
5:00 PM - Explore Gion (Gesha district)
8:45 PM - Dinner: Teppan Tavern Tenamonya
11:00 PM - Train Kyoto - Osaka
Day 4: Monday
8:30 AM - Coffee/breakfast in Namba
9:30 AM - Check out of hotel
10:30 AM - Train from Osaka to Tokyo
1:00 PM - Check into airbnb in Asakusa
1:30 PM - Lunch: Asakusa Midori Sushi
Afternoon: explore Asakusa

Asakusa shrine
Senso-ji temple
Kanimarion gate
Kappabashi st (kitchenware shopping)

Evening: Golden Gai District

Drinks: ARAKU (or whatever we see)
Dinner: Harebare Pecori Shinjuku (Izakaya)

Day 5: Tuesday
Morning: Ginza District

Breakfast: Open to recommendations
Coffee: Glitch (Ginza)
Ginza High Street (shopping)
Lunch: Kagari noodle shop in Ginza

Afternoon:

Explore Nakegamuro neighborhood
Kyu Asakura house

Evening: Toshima City

Aloha Whiskey (Japanese whiskey bar)
Dinner: Yakinikumafia Ikebukuro (Japanese bbq)

Day 6: Wednesday
Morning: Shibuya District

Coffee: Koffee Mameya
Shibuya district Shopping
Hachiko memorial statue
Lunch: Gyukatsu Motomura or Kikanbo ramen

Afternoon:

Mori Art museum and Observation Deck

14:30 - Train to Yokohama
6:00 PM - Baystars vs. Swallows in Yokohama Stadium
Evening: Asakusa bars
Day 7: Thursday
Mt. Fuji Day Trip
Day 8: Friday
Breakfast/Coffee: Asakusa
15:30 - leave to go home

submitted by Im_The_One to JapanTravel [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 14:57 JayJ41J Someone has an idea for the clean part?

submitted by JayJ41J to StardewValley [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 13:33 BeemanDev Meta Quest/Rift 25% discount: Rooms of Realities, Contractors Showdown, Arcade Paradise, Medieval Dynasty, Humanity, Swarm 2, 7th Guest, Townsmen, Racket Club, Powerwash, Espire2 + 150 more

submitted by BeemanDev to MetaQuest_Referrals [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 13:32 BeemanDev Meta Quest/Rift 25% discount: Rooms of Realities, Contractors Showdown, Arcade Paradise, Medieval Dynasty, Humanity, Swarm 2, 7th Guest, Townsmen, Racket Club, Powerwash, Espire2 + 150 more

submitted by BeemanDev to OculusReferralLinks [link] [comments]

submitted by BeemanDev to OculusReferral [link] [comments]

submitted by BeemanDev to MetaReferrals [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 13:20 Linkisagooner Kyoto gooners

Gooners - anyone in Kyoto planning to watch the game out and about ? It starts at midnight here. It seems that the cheeky pub house is an Arsenal focused bar, will they be showing the game? I also saw pig and whistle, not sure if they’ll be up and running.
(FYI just visiting Kyoto during this potentially historic game day but wanna make sure I find a place to watch this).
COYG

submitted by Linkisagooner to Gunners [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 08:58 Efficient-Item605 I hate my husband

Yeah, I think I hate my husband. He just can be biggest jerk ever. So, we are planning a trip to the beach for my birthday (we do have an agreement that for our birthday we can ask anything and we will use our money to get it, I said since the beginning what I want is a trip) we are taking advantage of some flights he is getting for free because he is going to the same place for work. So, we booked our Airbnb tonight and I wanted to go eat to this restaurant for my birthday but he told me 2 weeks ago he will have to work on my birthday until 2-2:30pm. I said ok, it’s fine. Then today when I wanted to make the reservation for the restaurant I was thinking out loud and said “I wonder if it’s smart to make the reservation at the restaurant since you compromised to work on my birthday, I’m worried we will not make it on time”… dude got up and got so so mad and starting saying shit and walked away. I stayed there thinking what the heck? Then I got up and I asked him to take the trash out. He ignored me, I called him and asked him again to take the trash out he started saying stuff “why? How is that going to make anything difference on taking it tonight and tomorrow…” I said it was smelling funny and I didn’t want that smell in the house. I was about to take it but he came mad and took the trash out. Then came back inside and started acting upset and I got upset bc I was “what’s the problem?” I brushed my teeth and did all my night routine, dude got in bed and “went to sleep” and I asked him… “what are you so mad about?” He didn’t respond and I said so “you’re just gonna act like that?” “What did I do for you to be mad?” The argument started, he said I told him he “compromised to work on My birthday” bc I was mad, I was trying to make him feel bad, and I was upset about it. I wasn’t upset about it. I was just thinking out loud about the restaurant reservations, so I said, how was I mad when I said that you compromised to work on my birthday? He said then why would you say it? My response was im just thinking out loud, and then he said no you were not. You were saying it because you were mad about it … and we just kept arguing because I really didn’t understand why he is so mad about… Take into consideration that English is not my first language, and I am not from here, so he looked up on Google what compromise means and then he told me that compromise means you doing something that you don’t want to do, even though the understanding for me in my native language means that you agreed to work on that day or do something bc you’re being responsible. He always thinks the worse of me so I wasn’t impressed…and I am here still not understanding what I did wrong. He said that nothing is never enough for me, he started “crying” and mocking me saying “oh poor girl she is going to the beach for her birthday, poor her poor her” and I got very offended at the fact he was mocking me because I never said that going to the beach was not enough and I was not mad about him working but he just kept being upset about it and I was trying to understand and I asked him to explain how me telling him that I was worried about the restaurant and if I should make a reservation was bad. Anyways, he is a jerk. He is always a jerk and he always makes fun of me. He always uses adjectives about me. He told me many many times that he is done and he wants a divorce and I honestly don’t feel heard in this relationship, I don’t feel loved. I don’t feel happy and I am very very miserable. I cry a lot because I hate his jerk comments and I hate the way that he is sometimes, he can be very cocky, have smart ass comments about me and about what I do, he also makes fun of me and my accent in front of people, he also uses me like his little guinea pig to make jokes of me with his friends or with new people, and then he says he loves my culture, and he loves me. I’ve been thinking about divorcing him, I’ve been contemplating the idea on moving out and just going to live by myself, but I feel lonely and I feel scared because I’m alone in this country. I am not worried about being alone and being responsible for myself because believe it or not me as an immigrant make more money that he makes, I have two jobs, I am a very hard-working person, I am a good wife, I keep the house clean, do the laundry, make sure he always has food and I don’t do this because I think it’s my obligation as a woman but because I really care about him, so the fact that he just treated me the way that he does it just breaks my heart because I think i still love him. I am also embarrassed and scared of calling my family and my mother…Tell them all the truth because I always told them that he is a good man and he loves me very well, but they don’t know that he is an asshole a lot of times, and it’s funny that I heard from his high school friends that they told me many times “why did you marry him?” “ What did you see in him” they even told him “what did you do to get someone so good like her, what did you do to get so lucky” His friends like me, I have a great relationship with most of his friends. I am just now thinking he’s always being a jerk. He’s never going to change that’s just the way that he is. Do you guys have any advice? Should I leave him? I know I am not perfect, but he hates the fact that I want to cuddle, he hates the fact that I want to be Sweet, he hates the fact that I want to be cheesy, he is not at all detailist, he never gives me flowers, presents, surprises, anything that is cheesy for him is always a no-no, we don’t do anything that Married couples do, anniversaries,surprises, etc… I don’t think he loves me, even though he sometimes says he loves me, but he loves me only when I agree with everything that he says or has to do or don’t get close to Him, don’t ask him anything, don’t expect Anything… How do I get a divorce? how do I make sure that, I get all my money and everything that is mine like my car and he doesn’t take it away from me? I don’t want to Spend all my savings in lawyers. I hate being with him and hate his personality, I love how creative and smart he can be sometimes but I hate him as a person.

submitted by Efficient-Item605 to offmychest [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 08:05 Present-Handle3297 HOOOOOOOOOOLD！Global retail investors unite to squeeze Wall Street shorts！

UPDATE

GROUP NOTE ,

In order to strengthen the consensus, count positions
Example Nickname + Number of shares
1k represents 1,000 shares, 1w represents 10,000 shares
1.aki 4.5w shares

Shen Yan 1.151W
FM 17w
Xiaoyao Aqiang 0.9w
When the Want Want Snow Cake feels hot, it will turn into a Want Want Cover. 0.9w
PCF 3900
Rwen 20w
Sun 1w
Don’t want to talk 5000
Velociraptor 2.8W
Working hard to move bricks on the construction site dog 0.18w
Jason 0.83W
xxx5 1w
T.S. 0.9w
Tuyile 4000
Potato 22.7w
Simple life 2.3w
xxx4 8.5w
Youyou My Heart 24,800
clouds 1k
Blue Nebula 1w
Jasper 0.5w
Stud ok 4k
Super super super funny 5k
Perseus 104 shares
Bobby Yu 1w shares
Ten years 2.5W
ʟɪᴀɴɢ 8w
Kunjie 6.5k
wen_bf 1.3w
UFO 1w
2.5k
yume 722
Brother Chun 4.2w
Going around in circles 3W
Kun 3w
Jiang Ming 1.1
alexwong 6.45W
Cao Yongjin 4w
zwj 0.9w
Vast sea and sky 6.2 W
Jia Wei 1.8w
Y. 3.75w

44.yhs 12.6W

Youny J' 0.3W
Cedric 5k
Youfeng 5k
The Long Season 1k

49.hong 1.33k

FF small shareholder 1.5w
Tai Zai returns to the mainland 1k
Hebaodan 10w+1w
. 5K
Reveal 1k
Ny 41000
FF go 5k
Consideration 0.85W
sun 3k
Rambling 3k
Melanie 1K

61.monkey 1.21W

singjingli 1.23w
Liu Ziwei 5,000
Cricket 10W
Looking into the distance 1w
stone 6w
Designer Tenney 30w

68.Jing 1w

Dalin 1.3w
Jane Fan 3.5w
Dream 6w
Demon clip 1k
JASON 2W
Away.L 1k

75.yisi12138 0.42w

Time 1.5W

77.wtcivanwong 0.5k

Qi Huan 26w
Hello Hello 10k

80.xxx3 31,000

Chen Yidi 4.4w
XXX2 2000
J 9k
C 2.7k
Wheat 2k
Qin 4293
a0 Yangzhou 2k
Clear Night 0.65K
Andy 3k
fish 2.5w
Diamond hands 1.5w
R. 2.5W. Continue to add 1W on Monday.
Vi 10w
Text 5,000
Incredible 3100
Value Investor-KrisW 1000
SHUYUSHU 2000
Peter Pan 1K
Wyman 2w
Brush Xiaoxin 3414
Dragon and tiger leap 4w
Asia 65
Spock 2500

104.Joan 2w

Dong 1.5W
wave 0.5k
Jason 0.0001w
c 1000
Anson 600
One interpretation of Zhengxi 4700
joker 2000
F 2150
Ai Zi pig 5k
Rampant class 1.3W
Alena, 1w
Shengchuang Trading 0.3W
Eighteen,6.5W
Li Qi 0.3W
Lanling joins the battle 1w

120.xxx6 7.5w

Xiaoyuer Zhihang 0.215w
Top 49
Walter 3k
XXX 3k
Lao Zhou in the United States 100W
Xiaoqi 1k
The world is full of love 2070
Andrei 2000
East 1w
cry 2000
liumai 1000
Miss Muzi whom no one knows. 6w
A.I 3W
qyh 2320
Xiansen 1k
Xiaoxiao 1.5k

137.Tiger 6k

Woo 1W
Wenger 6k
Totas 8W
Eagles Zhao 1.2k

142.cker 5k
A total of approximately 7.0359 million shares
Data from a Chinese WeChat group, HOLD! We will not sell until Wall Street shorts capitulate! If you don’t sell, Wall Street shorts won’t be able to close their positions, and a short squeeze will occur! FFIE stock price will fly to the moon!
remember! Stick together! Don't panic! Definitely not selling it! Close investment income plan! (Brokerages and investment banks borrow securities from you and then give you a small profit)
Wall Street's despicable methods of pulling out network cables, making false claims in the east and attacking in the west, and conducting ladder attacks have run out of tricks!
Victory will definitely belong to us, HOOOOOOOLD! FFIE to the moon!

submitted by Present-Handle3297 to FFIE [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 07:52 QuantumHangover End Game

Hi apes,

Can you feel it? Its finally here, but its not really anything like what we thought, ITS BETTER! That said I know how unforgiving you are so ill start with my superstonk credentials . Its just a link to my first post here so you will know that I am a dumbass ape that thinks the orange crayons taste the best.
Even so i expect to get torn up but I cant stop thinking about this, however before we start.
___________________
To Mr Roaring Kitty,
I want to take a moment to thank Roaring Kitty for everything. You made us a family, made us money and most important of all you gave us hope, there really was none. Even if we fail it was worth every penny.
Personally I had just lost my mom from COVID. We were so poor she died alone in a rehab bed since the beds were full in the hospital. We could not see her since it was a secure facility, she was just, gone. So many of us lost.
That is when I met the apes, your apes, your movement, and then it became our movement.
Kitty, you will never have to buy another beer again in your life. That goes double for your wife who also must have had to endured some shit, from both friend and foe. Hi Mrs. Kitty.
You didn't have to do any of this and you have inspired me and others to change the world, with or without tendies. You are not alone, we are on your motherfucking left!
Your Hamms is on us! Cheers!
________________________
APES I don't care if you do it here or anywhere but you let him know how grateful you are. You may copy paste the following "Thank you Roaring Kitty!".
alright so on with it, most of this is tin foil hat, but we are used to that.
Since we have so many new apes, many whom have felt the pain of being the victims of market manipulation this week, I will be defining things that are common knowledge for us Silverbacks.
all of this is, like my opinion man ok?
Disclaimer*:* Most everything I have learned of stocks I have learned with my fellow silverbacks. I am not a financial ANYTHING nor am I the algorithm Aladdin or the AI that reads these threads in order to change positions in the stock market. If you follow my advice you will end up naked in a small town in Mexico holding a banana in a moldy tortilla reciting Vogon poetry in Spanish pig latin (EFE)

WHATS WITH ALL THE MEMES FROM KITTY?

They are a genius move that do 2 things.
1- The Memes give us hints into what the plan is that cannot be stopped at the same time circumventing AI and the ALADDIN algorithm that reads these posts and adjusts the shorts position accordingly. While simultaneously making everyone ask "is it him?" this is called plausible deniability. Aladdin controls 70% of the market and is controlled at least laterally by a shithead named kenny, we don't like kenny, but he is irrelevant now.
2- The Memes are also a trap for the shorts who are thinking in an archaic way, spending literally billions to keep the price down using Synthetic shares. Maximizing the payoff by making them borrow more shares from us!
SEE GENIUS!
WAS E.T. HIS LAST POST?
You think a gangster like kitty goes out with a whimper like ET?

V FOR VENDETTA (meme) the music is in overture.
Run forest run, (meme) on a bridge 3/4 of the way over. Also a bridge is capital that you use to acquire businesses.
741 is everywhere which means the document filed for the 45 million shares and the possible use to exchange in stock for stock trade. also i saw the number 14.7 somewhere in there, percentage?

The last meme will be wonderous I expect nothing less from the man himself.
Selling him short like that, Shame on you!
But honestly I don't know.

WHAT IS A SYNTHETIC SHARE? WTF IS A DARKPOOL?

Synthetic shares, in the context of "seller boxing" and dark pool trading, refer to financial instruments that replicate the economic effects of owning actual shares without representing real equity ownership in a company. These shares are created through derivatives like options, swaps, or other financial instruments. When combined with seller boxing and dark pool trading, synthetic shares can play a significant role in market manipulation strategies. Here’s how this process generally works:
Seller Boxing Explained: Seller boxing is a strategy used to suppress the price of a stock by overwhelming the market with sell orders, often without actual stock changing hands. This keeps the stock price artificially low and can create a negative perception of the stock's value, making it unattractive to potential buyers.
Dark Pools Explained: Dark pools are private exchanges or forums for trading securities, not accessible by the public. They are often used by institutional investors to make large trades without exposure.
To KISS : Synthetic shares are just that, fake. But they important how we are going to the fucking moon, its how we are going to get paid. Last week a massive amount of dark pool synthetic shares were used.
At this moment you should understand that if the price is fake, and even buying at the tippy top last week is still a good bet, when MOASS happens.

OK SO WHEN IN THE FUCK IS MOASS?

According to the memes within a few weeks, be zen there is a plan.
This is the part where I get crucified by my fellow apes, and I am happy to take my licks.
I Believe that if MOASS could happen on the open "fair" market it would have in 2021 and again last week.
I believe that the only way to have MOASS is away from Aladdin, halts and dark pools. we must completely be out of the bog of eternal stench.
THE WORLD saw first hand last week, and it was maybe even for our benefit, that MOASS cannot happen in the fair market exchange with halts and the opposition illegal tactics.
So either GME cleans up the entire system that was created to work against us and take our homes, businesses and lives. Or we see what's in the box. (couldn't find the kitty "seven" meme)
I think that Kitty and the gang know this and we are all getting our tendies in a different way and Its bigger than we ever thought possible, BEAR with me please.

How would you communicate if anything you said was used against you? Ever had to prove you are human?

You see Aladdin and its bitch Ais ( I'm talking to you Aladdin, fuck you) can't understand memes, A computer does not know why Dickbutt is funny. SO the hedgies have weaponized social media against us with bots and AI. Anything you say or do is a product they can use against you, your words have value and sometimes determine what happens to your favorite stock.
Hence the Kitty Aladdin Meme
"They are fast but I am faster" Aladdin is the bad guy here. Go watch it again. "all you got to to is jump".
IF MOASS CANT HAPPEN ON THE fair MARKET THEN WHY ARE YOU SO HANDSOME AND CHIPPER?
Because of genetics and the filing of a document (prospectus supplement) and the EARLY preliminary earnings report.
It is not very common that earnings reports are released early. Very much less common that they are released early WITH A LOSS.
There was a big chunk of money "missing" "lost", where did it go?
Well put on your tin hat as this is what keeps me up at night.
KITTY/GME/TEDDY HOLDINGS/? wanted us to put together that they are creating a huge holding company conglomerate and we will be in it trading our shares for something that is shielded from the market manipulation of Aladdin.
The "missing" money is a hint along with the filing. The "LOSS" on the earnings report had the wonderful effect of triggering the algo to kick into gear and short the shit out of our beloved GME.
THIS MADE THE HEDGIES HIT THE LOWEST PRICE THEY COULD MAXIMIZING PROFIT GAINS FOR THOSE OF US NOT CHEATING THE SYSTEM
They used their own algorithm against them to put another nail in the coffin. I still am in shock from the move, bravo!!!
So what's it all mean?
I believe that Gmerica/TEDDY HOLDINGS (and others) has already been created, that the "missing" money was used in the deals. These were probably set in motion years ago, and cannot be stopped now.
For every 1 GameStop share, they'll get 4 of Another company they made the deal with. And for every 4 GameStop shares, they'll get 7 of say Shit, shower and shave shares, for example. (a real possibility, if you know you know)
This happens between companies attempting to purchase each other using stock as the currency.
As for the holders they will likely get to swap out their shares for the shares in the new massive holding company.
I think that we will be trading our stocks in for shares with blockchain attached and we will be shielded from market manipulation. (tin foil straight up guess)
Lets say this happens and they give a dividend. That would trigger THE MOTHERFUCKER OF ALL SHORT SQUEEZES. the MFOASS™
Oh and to get really APE kicked in the face here, since we would no longer need to lock the float to prove to some bought worthless politician, that they are doing something illegal DRS becomes less important. I say this having another 200 shares headed to the purple circle so be gentle.
Since they create shares from nothing then it does not matter how many are Street named.
I still say buy, hodl, DRS. but read the prospectus supplement. If I'm right it does not matter what you broker you use, you are in.
Add in the new CAT (consolidated audit trail) system although still controlled by shitheads and we have ourselves more than a few tendies. Which jives with GME and kitty not leaving any ape behind, not a one. I think the leaning forward meme is when it became active.
WHAT IS THE BEST PART?
The best part is that the companies that would comprise this conglomerate will include SSSY, Lego, Chewy, sax 5th ave and many others (in the memes) and it would rival amazon. Only less heartless and possibly even a decent wage.
Many of the stores that we would have in the holding companies were shorted into oblivion by the very assholes that we are revolting against.
Sweeet Sweet JUSTICE!
.... what I am saying is that...
oooo look a penny...
QH
On your left.
EDITED for her pleasure.

submitted by QuantumHangover to Superstonk [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 06:09 beta__crux need help rehoming my guinea pigs

Hi all, I’m not sure if this is allowed so if not that’s ok. I’m a proud parent of 2 male guinea pigs (4 y/o), but unfortunately I will have to find them a new home. I got into my dream graduate program in Europe and I can’t take them with me. I’ve been living in the US (Orange County, CA) for the past 6 years, but I’m from Europe and my whole family is over there. I can’t give them to friends either because they don’t have experience w piggies. When I adopted them (Oct 2021) I wasn’t planning on applying to this program, but I switched fields last year and this program is just too good of an opportunity to pass up. I feel very conflicted because I love my piggies, but I can’t turn something like this down. I want to make sure that they have a nice, safe space and are well taken care of but I’m not sure where to look. I don’t want to take them to a shelter or give them to someone with no previous experience w piggies. Any help/guidance would be appreciated.

submitted by beta__crux to guineapigs [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 23:02 Ok_Unit_8242 25% off for 398 apps

LINK

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1kbWBIneq5-J3-wU3ZLDWCCeuT-8bIqoG86mYh2kykYs/edit?usp=sharing

submitted by Ok_Unit_8242 to MetaReferrals [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:57 Hunnyandmilk I wrapped my body with duct tape every day in middle school

I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.

submitted by Hunnyandmilk to confessions [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 22:46 SamMorrisHorror Them Devils Part 2

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

submitted by SamMorrisHorror to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 20:50 Nice-Detective-7720 A level philosophy AQA

Can someone who does A level philosophy please just check my essay plan. It's what i wrote to the question Can propositional knowledge be defined but I am very scared that I've answered the question completely wrong. Keep in mind that these are just the points(I have done a conclusion and intro as well as linked it to the question after every point but everyone else has linked loads of other knowledge theories but i think i have messed up.
1.
Reliabilism aligns well with our intuitive judgments about what constitutes justified belief. People commonly rely on the reliability of sources or methods when assessing the legitimacy of their beliefs, making reliabilism intuitively appealing and reflective of common epistemic practices.-CR) However, it is only intuitively appealing if it reflects common epistemic practises and does not fail however: fails against getter case 1(reliable source is the president of company saying who will get job) - R)add sensitivity condition:Nozick adds sensitivity condition - If P were false, S would not believe that P. For example, imagine you’re holding a furry creature in your hand and believe it to be a hamster. It is a hamster. But whether you know it’s a hamster or not depends on whether your belief is sensitive to the truth - if the furry creature in your hand weren't a hamster and was a guinea pig, would you still believe it was a hamster? If you wouldn’t believe it's a hamster,then your original belief that it is a hamster is sensitive to the truth and it counts as knowledge. If you would still believe it is a hamster even when it is not, then your original belief is not sensitive to it being false and is not a case of knowledge.This works against gettier cases - Smith’s P(belief) was that “the person getting the job has 10 coins in his pocket” and this was luckily true as he himself got the job and he had ten coins in his pocket. However if things were different(Smith didn't have 10 coins in his pocket), Smith would still believe in his proposition and he didn’t base his belief on the coins in his pocket but rather Jones’ pocket. Smith’s belief is not sensitive to P being false. Because of this, Smith does not know P and it is not an example of knowledge.
2.Reliabilism is grounded in empirical evidence and observation. It acknowledges the importance of real-world data and experiences in determining the reliability of belief-forming processes. This empirical foundation enhances the credibility and practicality of reliabilism as a theory of knowledge. -R) however it still fails against certain scenarios where real world data is skewed : fake barns:From a reliabilist perspective, if the person's belief-forming process is reliable—meaning that in barn-rich environments, the person reliably forms true beliefs about barns—then their belief "There is a barn" would be considered justified, even if it happens to be formed on the basis of a fake barn this time. However, critics argue that this example highlights a weakness in reliabilism because it seems to suggest that a belief can be justified even if it's formed on the basis of luck or accidental circumstances rather than reliable cognitive processes.CR) add no relevant alternatives:Goldman suggested that we should only count a process as reliable if that process is able to distinguish between the truth and other relevant possibilities. For example, there are two twins that you met ages ago and only then. You see them again and you know ones called trudy and the other Judy. Yesterday you saw one twin up close and believed that it was judy. It was. Does that count as knowledge though? Goldman states that a relevant alternative could have been the other twin trudy and if you wouldn’t have spotted that, your process of identifying the twin is not reliable as it could ont properly distinguish from truth and alternative. Henry in fake barn county would probably not be able to distinguish between seeing the real barn and relevant alternative. This means that his belief was not formed from a reliable process so Henry did not know there was a barn there.(expand) 3.does not solve the second gettier case - CR) redefining process: In the case above, we described the cognitive process in terms of forming initial belief from visual and verbal evidence(jones owns ford) and then inferring a new disjunctive belief from initial one(jones owns ford or brown is in barcelona). We could easily describe the second stage of Smith’s cognitive process differently. Instead of saying it was a case of inferring from Jones owns a ford to Jones owns a ford and Brown is in barcelona, we could describe it as a case of inferring from false belief(jones owns a ford) to a new belief(jones owns a ford or Brown is in barcelona. Inferring on a false belief compared to reliable cognitive processes stated before(visual and verbal), is not reliable as making inferences from false belief is not likely to reliably produce truth. By reclassifying the process, a relativist can show that the process at play was not a reliable one and it can be used for both gettier examples. As in both examples, the final belief is inferred from a false belief.- R) Although it solves gettier cases, it raises concern about how general or specific we should be when describing belief forming process.IE the case of seeing a friend on the other side of the road. This example can be described in lots of ways/ there could be details left out. For example, it might be a foggy day or the friend might be wearing bright pink which would alter the reliability of the cognitive process at play(sight). This means that every example of gaining knowledge from a reliable princess is unique. We do not know how specific our types of processes has to be

submitted by Nice-Detective-7720 to 6thForm [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 20:43 nobody_important12 I'm not sure what to do with my old girl.

My guinea pig is 6y old and she's not doing well to say the least. We took her to the vet and they wanted 880$ (canadian) for tests, just to see what was wrong, then it could be more for treatment if that's even possible, but they think it's a tumor. I can't afford the 880, let alone more after for treatment. I talked to the vet to see about payment plans, reduced rates, anything, and the best they could do was one test for 554$, and if it comes back negative, we do another test.
She's old and already went through one 2k surgery less than 6 months ago. I don't want to put her through that again especially since her weight has dropped dramatically, down to 750, if that's what's needed. As of right now I'm feeding her 6-7 times a day, typically between 50 and 70ml of critical care, and we give metacam twice daily as we thought she may have stopped eating due to pain. That was not the case, as she now eats less than she did before, and varies a lot in her mood. Yesterday she seemed to be doing really well, she seemed excited for critical care and would even come up to the side of the cage to bug for it. Today though, it seems she's taken a turn for the worst. She isn't eating nearly as much, and when she does she seems uninterested. I went over and talked to her and she was sleeping, but she didn't wake up and she was shaking a little. Honestly my heart sank for a second but when I pet her she woke up and ate a bit of food. She also has one crusty eye, and she's moving pretty slow all the time.
I don't want to admit that it's time, but even so it's a weekend, so the vet is unavailable today. What should I do from this point on? Is there anything further I can do to help her? Any advice us greatly appreciated.

submitted by nobody_important12 to guineapigs [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 19:14 hrklx Far fetch trade for a win now scenario

Since we got the 4th and 8th pick(plus still lots of future picks), I think there's a lot of possibly which we can even gamble on
It is my far fetch gamble on a big trade, with acquiring KD from Suns While moving 3 of our players out, including 2 starters which a lot of us agreed we should be doing upgrades on, plus our backup centre which many on this sub also thinking we should move him out (sorry Zach)
Let's talk about the trade perspective for the other 2 teams Suns: they will be replacing KD with Ingram, which obviously a downgrade, but he is just starting to hit his peak, and probably he still have some improvements that they can bet on pairing him with booker who's about the same age, they will lock on a quality SF for the next few years, rather than holding to a aging KD Also they will acquire Tre who plays as a true PG, which is what the Suns seems to need after seeing they failed playoff attempt this year
Pelicans: It's been on a lot of rumors that the Pelicans wants to trade Ingram as they don't see him fitting with Zion First, they will be acquiring Julian which probably will not start for the Pelicans, rather as their back SF, though he is still young and can be developed to a solid 3&D player working along with Zion Also they will be getting Zach Collins which either continue to be the solid backup Centre, or be their starting C if JV goes to free agent Pelicans can even try crazier roasters change if JV stays, starting Zion as SF and put Zach to PF (which a lot of ppl here thinks it's his true position), or start Larry Nance Jr. in SF
Enough talking about the trade scenarios for the other teams, let's get back to our team, the 2 lottery picks I see lots of people here actually thinks we should be using both picks going for 2 PGs We already have Blake and Malaki to be our backup PG and they are still young to be determined as not fitting our future plan Both of them show promises on certain aspects in late of this season, though there are still lots of raw and low IQ moments observed Adding 2 more potential starting PGs would actually wasting our pick to play safe on the PG position, 1 is sufficient and we should invest the other pick on other positions
As this year draft seems to be a mediocre draft class for lots of the NBA fans, I highly doubt our drafts can get ourselves some HOF potential players, let alone generation talents Most likely we are getting 2 All star potential players adding to our roasters, or less likely 2 solid players who hold the backup positions for our next few years Therefore, looking at positions we at least won't get a downgrade from the picks in the worst case scenario
Obviously there is the PG position to fill, and most would expect the rookie PG to replace Tre as starter, rather allowing Blake or Malaki to start instead
Then we have 2 options, either go for a Forward or a Big man (I think it would be quite obvious why we don't need to invest a lottery on another wing player) For the big man position, there are Clingan or Yves Missi in that regards, or even Zach Edey (I think there still a lot of doubts on his maneuverability). He could potentially fill the Collins role as the backup Center, but Dominick or Bassey can be the 2nd option after Wemby at least at the beginning of next season
On the other hand would be getting a Forward prospect, it is a less likely opinion then 2 PGs, but still more likely then us getting a Center prospect instead The forward can potentially pair with Keldon on the 2nd team unit, as maybe even our start on the Forward position in the future along with Jeremy Since my scenario starts with getting KD on our roster, I won't worry much on our starting SF/PF positions as the next couple of years
This is my crazy idea on a win now scenario, and since KD has a very big contract, it would also take a lot of our cap space out Considering we are very unlikely take up Graham's contract, either waive him with the 2.8M guaranteed left on dead or try to trade him else where Then we would still have a little bit of cap space for us to grab some solid from the free agency market, but of course not able to afford another big superstar
I actually have another even crazier scenario which involve the 4th team Hawks with DJM in mind, but I already put so much in this post so that would be another story I hope anyone who get thru my long post enjoyed and be entertained

submitted by hrklx to NBASpurs [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 16:06 Older-fanboy How I would've written Professor Marmalade from The Bad Guys?

Although the movie is good, I think it could've been way better in some aspects and one of those aspects is the villain of the film.
I think he could have a better motivation and plan. For his motivation, I would make that in the past he wasn't taken seriously for being a little and adorable guinea pig, making a contrast with The Bad Guys and Diane's past who were seen just as the stereotypes their animal species represent. And his plan with stealing the money via the mind controlled guinea pigs with the energy of the meteore was that he needed to become more powerful and take control of the city and get revenge on those who made fun of him, and to obtain that, he also plans to get rid of Diane to take her place as governor of the city.
Also, instead of making his true nature revealed at half of the film we as the audience already know he's the real bad guy of the story, and for that I would add two scenes that were deleted from the film.
The first scene is one where Marmalade goes to visit the place where the meteor is kept safe where we already have a hint about his true intentions
And the second scene has the bad guys after their exhausting first day of training, where Snake is sick of Marmalade's methods and he wants to eat him but Wolf and the others try to stop him, but Snake tries to eat him while talking with Diane during a dinner about the bad guys' progress, and that creates a misunderstanding where it looks like they were trying to attack Marmalade which makes Diane upset and decides to cancel the project. For that scene, I would add an aspect where Marmalade wanted to kill Diane by giving her a poisoned steak that will take days to make effect and that way he can postulate himself as the new governor after getting all the money, but The Bad Guys ended up saving her without knowing it because they got her upset when she was abput to eat the first piece of the steak.
What do you think?

submitted by Older-fanboy to fixingmovies [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 11:06 FFRBP777 Chariot Chaos

Hey, so you ever get a birthday present that's so not your style, but you really can't return it because it'd be really awkward? Normally it's like, I dunno. Shoes, or shirts or something like that, right?
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
I’d like to say that I did something else. Like I defeated an army of drakons on my way, or managed to fight off crazed demigods sent by my dad…but no. It was pretty much just traffic the rest of the way there. It was long and arduous, but I managed to make my way over to The Intrepid. After that traffic,I had to say, the amount of crazy drivers was almost San Francisco bad. I’d have taken as many spartoi and boars as dad could throw at me, if it meant I wasn’t drowning in the sea of cars. I drove down Pier 86, feeling a sense of relief as I got closer and closer to the aircraft carrier turned museum. As I got within eyeshot, I realized that dad said to take it to the temple, but not where to drop it off at.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
OOC: And there we have it! The final David storymode relevant to this storyline! I meant to have this yesterday ~~but I didn't see the modmail that gave me the okay until literally an hour ago oop.~~ Which means that yes, the Chariot and Ares both are approved from the mods.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!

submitted by FFRBP777 to CampHalfBloodRP [link] [comments]

2024.05.18 08:46 Sensitive_Affect4201 i got a new guinea pig and im devastated

i had 2 guinea pigs for the last 7 years. recently, one of them passed.
over the last few days, i learned that some very dumb kids at my school bought a guinea pig as a birthday gift for one of their friends. she didn't want it (she has a huge fucking dog for god's sake), so they were kinda just messing around with the poor baby. my friend's friend found them yelling at each other about it in the parking lot, obviously mistreating it. they said stuff like "i don't know when the last time we fed it was", and she basically demanded them to hand it over. she gave it to her friend, who i practically had to plead with to give me the guinea pig, because she has 0 clue how to handle it (she bought him seeds???)
so now, i unexpectedly have this tiny baby guinea pig, which i hope to bond with my 7-8 year old little guy soon.
i know i should be happy about this. ive been looking into getting another guinea pig, but a free one basically has just fallen into my lap. i can't help but be genuinely devastated though. this makes it feel so real. i had the two brothers for years, and then i had just one brother. and now i have two again, but one is this tiny little thing who is completely unfamiliar with me.
i miss my old guinea pig so much. he had so much personality. he used to love banana, and would always steal his brother's. he was tricolor and had the cutest little black ears. he and his brother were literally inseparable.
and now i have this new baby to take care of. don't get me wrong, i love him and all, but it almost feels like im replacing my last guinea pig. i miss him so much, and i know his brother is devastated as well.
i also have to take the new one to the vet. im going to be taking my original one as well. the problem is, i haven't gone to the vet in ages. im still a teenager, and my parents haven't let me take them to the vet in a very long time. i finally have my own money saved, and im planning to spend it all on vet expenses. i know i really should take them, but im terrified the vet is gonna judge me for not bringing them for so long.
there's just so many terrifying and overwhelming feelings i wasn't expecting. i don't even have a name for the new one yet. it feels like if i name him, it'll be 100% permanent that my last guinea pig died. I don't know what to do.

submitted by Sensitive_Affect4201 to offmychest [link] [comments]

http://rodzice.org/