Armpits uneasiness
Afraid to have my armpit hair on display at my internship
2024.05.11 15:03 PinkBubbleGummm Afraid to have my armpit hair on display at my internship
I think in comparison to most women (and some men) I'm a fairly hairy person (although for someone who is both latina and middle eastern, I'm not). I have dark, long armpit hair that is very noticeable.
My internship this summer is at an urban farm, and I will definitely be wearing tanktops. I do not intend to shave, but I feel very tempted to trim it back significantly. I don't necessarily want to, but I feel nervous letting it be as bold as it typically is in a work setting.
I've interned at this farm in the past (and had a consistent relationship with the organization for the past 2 years), and wasn't shaving my legs back then, but was shaving my armpits. The more I think about it, the more I realize how stupid it is that I feel like this. For context: this is a very liberal organization, I know most of the employees there pretty well (I didn't even interview for the position, I just sent an email and they said they'd love to have me), and they are some of the kindest and nicest people I've ever met. I know that no one there is going to care or be bothered by it, but I still feel uneasy about having my pit hair on display in this setting that is more formal than my every day life. On top of that I've never seen a woman there who didn't shave.
I will be working with preschoolers (doing envi education) and its really important to me that they are able to see a woman with body hair.
I suppose I'm looking for some reassurance, and would love to hear how others deal with their body hair in a work setting/overcome that fear.
submitted by PinkBubbleGummm to razorfree [link] [comments]
My internship this summer is at an urban farm, and I will definitely be wearing tanktops. I do not intend to shave, but I feel very tempted to trim it back significantly. I don't necessarily want to, but I feel nervous letting it be as bold as it typically is in a work setting.
I've interned at this farm in the past (and had a consistent relationship with the organization for the past 2 years), and wasn't shaving my legs back then, but was shaving my armpits. The more I think about it, the more I realize how stupid it is that I feel like this. For context: this is a very liberal organization, I know most of the employees there pretty well (I didn't even interview for the position, I just sent an email and they said they'd love to have me), and they are some of the kindest and nicest people I've ever met. I know that no one there is going to care or be bothered by it, but I still feel uneasy about having my pit hair on display in this setting that is more formal than my every day life. On top of that I've never seen a woman there who didn't shave.
I will be working with preschoolers (doing envi education) and its really important to me that they are able to see a woman with body hair.
I suppose I'm looking for some reassurance, and would love to hear how others deal with their body hair in a work setting/overcome that fear.
2024.05.09 00:46 tracyturnedbald Season 3 Meet the Queens - in English
Bonjour!
I made a post last year to explain the French references in S2E1 of drag race France in English (I never really got the motivation to do the rest because I don't know if it's that useful, but if it is, let me know and I'll try and do it). I saw that there weren't French subtitles for the S3 meet the queens on wow+, so I made a translation of the videos in English so non-French speakers can understand the queens' introductions. If subtitles have now been added on the platform (I can't check because I don't have it), let me know and I'll probably delete this, but otherwise, hope it's useful! Sorry if there are mistakes, or weird turns of phrases, English isn't my first language.
Afrodite Amour : I’m ready. I’m Afrodite Amour, A-F-R-O, as in afro, because I’m… black. I’ve been doing drag for a year now, but I’ve been pretty for 27. I'm of Guadeloupean descent. I’m a banker by day, drag queen by night. Metro, travelo^, dodo.^^ When I’m not in heels or wearing a tie, I love lifting weights at the gym. Can you see my muscles through the fabric? I’m the Vin Diesel of French drag. It took me a long time to start doing drag in public because I didn't see anyone like me on the French drag scene - I’m a 6ft tall, 220lbs man in a wig. I felt like people like me weren’t accepted. But when I saw Soa de Muse and La Big Bertha, I realised that there was no point in limiting myself, there’s no set path to becoming a star. My drag is very glamour-oriented and inspired by the 80s. My strengths are: my runways, I'm funny, I can sing, I can dance… I can do everything. I look like Morgan Freeman dressed as Whitney Houston, and I trip and fall over all the time. And it’s not because I wear high heels, my inner ear must not be working properly. I’m on Drag Race France! In some way, I’ve already won just by being here, but that’s not enough. I’m not a sore loser, because I never lose. Who has never dreamed of seeing a bodybuilder queen? All good? I’ll go make myself a sandwich and collect my crown.
^French slang for transvestite.
^^it’s a variation of the phrase “métro, boulot, dodo”/ “metro, job, sleep”, used to summarize a typical working person’s day-to-day life.
Le Filip : Do I have something stuck in my teeth? No? Okay. I’m Le Filip, but you can also call me Tata (auntie) Fifi, or Finette, or Finfin, or Fineline, Fifounette. I’m Croatian. “Hi girls, how are you doing?” I’ve been doing drag for 12 years. I’m the most spacey of Eastern European women.^ I’m a funny drag queen, I do stand up, I perform at weddings, bar mitzvahs… I’d love to perform at funerals, but it seems people don’t have enough of a sense of humor yet. My drag is inspired by all the women in the world – my friends, my mum, Pamela Anderson, Amy Winehouse, my grandmother, may she rest in peace. I’m inspired by dead women, because I have the natural glow of a corpse. I can relate to them. I speak multiple languages, I’m very talented orally – at least I’ve never had any complaints. I’m so tired of talking about myself! I like to smile, and laugh. I sounded just like Mélanie Laurent^^ there. I have a phobia of people eating apples. It makes me profoundly uneasy. I don’t know where that comes from. It doesn’t happen when I’m the one eating an apple, of course. I want to win. I don’t want to have to slap and push the other girls, but who knows, that might happen. I'm slowly realising just how much I want the crown, and I’m scared of what I’m like when I want something. Just ask my boyfriend, I really wanted him, and I’ve been keeping him locked up inside our house for 5 years now. Terrible. Just love each other, babes, okay? But most importantly, love me.
^“être à l’ouest” : “being West” means being a little crazy, weird, spacey, sort of seemingly living in another world and not aware of the reality around you, in French. So it was as a play on words with West/East.
^^she's a very famous French actress.
Magnetica : […] just a little tongue twister. I’m Magnetica, I’m 24, I live in Paris, and I’m of French-Bolivian descent. Some people call me Mag, it’s so funny to me because it sounds like it's short for Magali, and I don’t look like a Magali at all. I’m a drag queen that makes noise. Magnetica is a weird little creature, a little nymph, a little clown, a little alien. I like to be campy, and to make people wonder: “is she on drugs?”. I like to dress in all green, yellow, red, purple, blue… I change colours more often than my underwear. I have many talents: I can play the bagpipes, and climb on a roof without falling off. I have premonitory dreams. I haven’t dreamed that I was winning the crown yet, but I’m sure I will very soon. As a competitor, I’m very sweet, while beating the other girls anyway. “Go on, darling, you’ll be fine.” Just because I’m colourful doesn’t mean I can’t be the villain of the season. I’m going to kill the competition. They can all go home, I’ve already won. Brace yourselves, the monster is coming, and I’ll devour all of you.
Lula Strega : Camera one, Camera two… I love drag, and drag loves me. I’m Lula Strega, and I’m very much a Southern girl^. I’ve been working in Paris for 4 years now. Lula is a good witch, I’m here to bewitch people with my piercing eyes^^ and win them over. Picture little bullets. Nicky, bam, bewitched!^^^ Drag is the ultimate medicine. It’s allowed me to be more comfortable in my body and in my mind. Out of drag, I’m more reserved, I’m a little shy. I’m very gassy, especially in the shower. Bam, in my face. But I don’t think that counts as a talent. I don’t have the pretentiousness to consider myself as funny as Coluche, or Desproges^^^^, but I’m not too shabby. I’m very good at impressions. […] That was Keiona. I can’t dance, and I can’t sing either. That’s why I’m relying on my… creativity! I look sweet and tame, but don’t understimate me, I can be someone you should be scared of if I want to. I’m a confident competitor, I don’t pay attention to my competition. I’m the next queen of France, because we haven’t had a queen under 5ft7 yet, and I think we should. I can’t wait to win the crown. I don’t want you to be under my spell too much, so I’ll leave now.
^from the South of France.
^^the phrase she uses, “yeux revolver” is a phrase meaning eyes/a look that can shoot you, but not in a mean way, rather as in a look that seduces you.
^^^the phrase she uses here, “mettre quelqu’un dans sa poche” / “put someone in your pocket” means completely winning them over with something you do, often strategically so they’re nice to you.
^^^^two extremely famous comedians/humorists in France. If you ask the average French person on the street who is considered/is the best French humorist of all time, there are good chances they'll say one of the two.
Misty Phoenix : Wait. Okay, all good. I almost burped. I’m Misty Phoenix, I’m 24 – wait, no, I’m 23. I’m from Avignon, in the real South^, with our calissons^^, our melons… that’s a lot of words ending in -on. I’m a Capricorn, very important thing to mention. Capricorns have a shitty temper, and I’m a Scorpio rising, which is even worse. I’m a performer, a dancer, and a racaille^^^, I like to bring that element. (What she does afterwards is the sign of Jul, one of the most famous rappers in France, this sign is pretty much just part of French culture now.) Wesh la zone.^^^^ I don’t know how to explain, not like […], more like […]. But I’m pretty, so it’s fine if I act like that. My parents have inspired me to start doing drag. We’ve always liked dressing up, in the family. My mum used to dress up as Dalida, and my dad, as Nana Mouskouri. My dad in Nana Mouskouri drag could have been in the cast, because he’s the spitting image of Nicky Doll. No, I’m joking, that’s not true, don’t keep that in the edit. I love being outrageous. I absolutely would come on stage jumping down from the roof, or by helicopter, if I could. I have a fear of heights, but I’d still do it. I’m not scared of anything. I love showers, I love water. I love drinking water. I’d say I’m an aquatic person, but I’m not a Pisces. Don’t make me laugh! I’m a fierce competitor, but I’m always here to lend a helping hand. I can help you with your makeup if you want, but I’ll make sure you look ugly. I want to win Drag Race France. I don’t know if the other girls are ready to compete against me, because I’m going to kick their asses. I’m not a delicate little flower. The crown is mine.
^the South-West and South-East of France are two very different regions with their own traditions, specialties, accents etc, and people from either region will claim their part of Southern France is the “proper” South.
^^a type of candy that is a specialty from that region of France.
^^^I guess the closest thing in the English language would be “””chav”””, “racaille” in general implies a young person with bad behaviour especially in regards to authority, sometimes committing petty offenses, often talking in a rude manner, dressing in a certain way… it does have racist/classist roots and connotations if used in its usual context by older people or wealthier people, but here it's just funny to see a drag queen describe herself in that way. It's an imperfect definition, explaining accurately what that word means isn't really easy.
^^^^Quite untranslatable, it’s the title of one Jul’s songs, it means “what’s up guys”, in a slang very much associated with rappers for example, honestly I'm not sure I have the words to accurately describe the social context of it in English, but again, it sounds funny coming from a drag queen.
Leona Winter : All good. I’m ready. I’m Leona Winter, I’m 28 – already! Oh my god! I’m of Catalan descent, but mum is Ch’ti^, so I’m both from the North and the South. I’m sweet, a real Care Bear. I love hugs and kisses. I’m known as a beauty queen - with beautiful gowns, jewelry, tight updos with not a single strand of hair out of place - but mainly as a singer. But I’m more than that. I want to break out of this image, I want to have fun, I want to get dirty^^, I’ve had enough of being a beauty, now it’s time for the beast to come out. Nice one, right? We can keep that in the edit. You can say I’m a little used to competitions, I was Miss Europe Continental, Miss Latina Continental… Drag Race is going to be completely different. I’m excited to see what it’ll be like for me. It doesn’t matter what the other girls do, my biggest competition is myself. I have to express all the juice inside of this big orange. Believe me, I can bring it. My special talent is that I have very deep nostrils. Isn’t that glamorous? What the crown represents to me is first of all a lot of money. Me, a material girl? Not at all. I’ll be ready to fight tooth and nail, until I bleed, to get that crown. And the winner of Drag Race France is… me! Obviously. Bye!
^from the Nord-pas-de-Calais region of France.
^^meant not in a sexual way, but as the literal meaning of the word, like "getting your hands dirty".
Norma Bell : Which camera do I look at? That one? How’s my hair? I’m Norma Bell, I’m 25, and I’m originally from Reunion Island. […] Didn’t understand that, did you? But you liked it? That’s what matters. Drag is the most all-encompassing form of expression, to me. It helps me find balance in my day-to-day life. I recommend it to everyone. You do drag, you do drag, you… yeah, no. I have many strengths. I’m a showgirl, I love to set the stage on fire. I want to share that little sparkle that drag ignites in me with people. I want to inspire, and I'd like to exhale too, right now^. I’m a little narcissistic, not going to lie, I think I’m beautiful. Look away! When I was younger, I could fart with my armpits, I don’t know if I can still do it. My nails keep falling off! Being a drag queen means having your nails fall off, your hair hurts, your balls hurt… it’s a high-risk job. I’d say I’m nice, other people say I’m a little mean. I don’t see myself the way other people see me, that’s crazy! Am I delusional? Yes! I’m very excited to be on season 3 of Drag Race France. I’m here to stomp all over these girls, I want to be queen of France. Me with a crown on my head, now wouldn't that be a pretty sight? Start your engines, fasten your seatbelts, put your helmets on, I’m coming. I’m warning you, I haven’t traveled 6 800 miles to not win this crown.
^“inhale” and “inspire” are the same word, in French.
Edeha Noire : I’m Edeha Noire, I’m 34, and I’m from Lyon. I’m way too intense. You’ve got to be extra, in life. I’m sleeping, now I’m awake. I do drag because it’s the only way for me to truly exist, and to shine. I can destroy a bouquet of flowers on stage, tear apart my outfit, just to give something to the audience. I keep giving, giving and giving! I’m a woman, I’m a man, I break every norm. I can cry in a snap of the fingers. Or I can scream. I’m a mum, and my dream is for my daughter to see me on TV. [Elia], I’m here! Mum is on Drag Race, be proud of me! I believe in myself. When I get knocked down, I always get back up. I have an incredible level of motivation. Drag Race is the chance of my life. I want to win, the crown is mine! I want it, I won’t give up. Nicky, be ready for Edeha Noire to light up this competition.
Perseo : I’m Perseo, I’m 21, I’m from the Canary Islands, in Spain. Canarian drag queens wear 13-inch heels, shiny things with rhinestones, helmets, very carnival-y outfits. I’ve been doing ballet since I was very small. I used to dance at the Paris Opera school. I was a “petit rat de l’Opéra”^, yes indeed! I’m all about joy, laughing, partying, I’m the perfect friend for a good night out. In life, I try and listen to what other people have to say, but if it bores me, I’m out. I have a problem with problems. Am I someone the others should be scared of? If I want to, I can be. I can become a demon. If I hit you in the face with my 13-inch heels, you’ll be scared, for sure. Being on Drag Race France is an opportunity for me to show the world who Perseo is. I’m going to give my absolute all in this competition. You have no idea! I may be Spanish, but I’ll win the French crown. Brace yourselves, because I’m going to slay the competition. I’m breaking the set!
^name given to children who enter the school as ballet students.
Ruby on the Nail : Don’t adjust the lights, she has arrived. I’m Ruby on the Nail, and I’m…who am I? I’m 34, I originally come from Marseille, and I’ve been doing drag for 6 years. Ruby on the Nail is beautiful, gorgeous, stunning… Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and I think “Wow, hello. Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” My drag takes its inspiration from old Hollywood glamour, Rita Hayworth has inspired me a lot, and the Little Mermaid as well, because she has a nice tail.^ I’m very much a drag queen-next-door. You can find me literally on your doorstep. “It’s me, Ruby! Want to see a little performance?” One, and two, and three, and four. I’m known as the lip sync assassin of Paris and its general area. Three, four… That was “La danse des canards”!^^ It’s my favourite song. I want to compete on Drag Race for the glory, and to show my mum how beautiful her son is. Hi, mum! I have two things to say to people watching: never be afraid to be yourself, and I’m single. My number is: 06...- Call me. I’m ready to win, give me the crown! I’ve been waiting for her for three seasons now! It would really suit me, don’t you think? Are we done? Can I go? Bye!
^in French, “queue”/”tail” is a familiar way of saying penis.
^^“The Duck Dance”… a silly song released in the 80s that every single French person knows, literally one of the best-selling singles of all time here.
submitted by tracyturnedbald to DragRaceFrance [link] [comments]
I made a post last year to explain the French references in S2E1 of drag race France in English (I never really got the motivation to do the rest because I don't know if it's that useful, but if it is, let me know and I'll try and do it). I saw that there weren't French subtitles for the S3 meet the queens on wow+, so I made a translation of the videos in English so non-French speakers can understand the queens' introductions. If subtitles have now been added on the platform (I can't check because I don't have it), let me know and I'll probably delete this, but otherwise, hope it's useful! Sorry if there are mistakes, or weird turns of phrases, English isn't my first language.
Afrodite Amour : I’m ready. I’m Afrodite Amour, A-F-R-O, as in afro, because I’m… black. I’ve been doing drag for a year now, but I’ve been pretty for 27. I'm of Guadeloupean descent. I’m a banker by day, drag queen by night. Metro, travelo^, dodo.^^ When I’m not in heels or wearing a tie, I love lifting weights at the gym. Can you see my muscles through the fabric? I’m the Vin Diesel of French drag. It took me a long time to start doing drag in public because I didn't see anyone like me on the French drag scene - I’m a 6ft tall, 220lbs man in a wig. I felt like people like me weren’t accepted. But when I saw Soa de Muse and La Big Bertha, I realised that there was no point in limiting myself, there’s no set path to becoming a star. My drag is very glamour-oriented and inspired by the 80s. My strengths are: my runways, I'm funny, I can sing, I can dance… I can do everything. I look like Morgan Freeman dressed as Whitney Houston, and I trip and fall over all the time. And it’s not because I wear high heels, my inner ear must not be working properly. I’m on Drag Race France! In some way, I’ve already won just by being here, but that’s not enough. I’m not a sore loser, because I never lose. Who has never dreamed of seeing a bodybuilder queen? All good? I’ll go make myself a sandwich and collect my crown.
^French slang for transvestite.
^^it’s a variation of the phrase “métro, boulot, dodo”/ “metro, job, sleep”, used to summarize a typical working person’s day-to-day life.
Le Filip : Do I have something stuck in my teeth? No? Okay. I’m Le Filip, but you can also call me Tata (auntie) Fifi, or Finette, or Finfin, or Fineline, Fifounette. I’m Croatian. “Hi girls, how are you doing?” I’ve been doing drag for 12 years. I’m the most spacey of Eastern European women.^ I’m a funny drag queen, I do stand up, I perform at weddings, bar mitzvahs… I’d love to perform at funerals, but it seems people don’t have enough of a sense of humor yet. My drag is inspired by all the women in the world – my friends, my mum, Pamela Anderson, Amy Winehouse, my grandmother, may she rest in peace. I’m inspired by dead women, because I have the natural glow of a corpse. I can relate to them. I speak multiple languages, I’m very talented orally – at least I’ve never had any complaints. I’m so tired of talking about myself! I like to smile, and laugh. I sounded just like Mélanie Laurent^^ there. I have a phobia of people eating apples. It makes me profoundly uneasy. I don’t know where that comes from. It doesn’t happen when I’m the one eating an apple, of course. I want to win. I don’t want to have to slap and push the other girls, but who knows, that might happen. I'm slowly realising just how much I want the crown, and I’m scared of what I’m like when I want something. Just ask my boyfriend, I really wanted him, and I’ve been keeping him locked up inside our house for 5 years now. Terrible. Just love each other, babes, okay? But most importantly, love me.
^“être à l’ouest” : “being West” means being a little crazy, weird, spacey, sort of seemingly living in another world and not aware of the reality around you, in French. So it was as a play on words with West/East.
^^she's a very famous French actress.
Magnetica : […] just a little tongue twister. I’m Magnetica, I’m 24, I live in Paris, and I’m of French-Bolivian descent. Some people call me Mag, it’s so funny to me because it sounds like it's short for Magali, and I don’t look like a Magali at all. I’m a drag queen that makes noise. Magnetica is a weird little creature, a little nymph, a little clown, a little alien. I like to be campy, and to make people wonder: “is she on drugs?”. I like to dress in all green, yellow, red, purple, blue… I change colours more often than my underwear. I have many talents: I can play the bagpipes, and climb on a roof without falling off. I have premonitory dreams. I haven’t dreamed that I was winning the crown yet, but I’m sure I will very soon. As a competitor, I’m very sweet, while beating the other girls anyway. “Go on, darling, you’ll be fine.” Just because I’m colourful doesn’t mean I can’t be the villain of the season. I’m going to kill the competition. They can all go home, I’ve already won. Brace yourselves, the monster is coming, and I’ll devour all of you.
Lula Strega : Camera one, Camera two… I love drag, and drag loves me. I’m Lula Strega, and I’m very much a Southern girl^. I’ve been working in Paris for 4 years now. Lula is a good witch, I’m here to bewitch people with my piercing eyes^^ and win them over. Picture little bullets. Nicky, bam, bewitched!^^^ Drag is the ultimate medicine. It’s allowed me to be more comfortable in my body and in my mind. Out of drag, I’m more reserved, I’m a little shy. I’m very gassy, especially in the shower. Bam, in my face. But I don’t think that counts as a talent. I don’t have the pretentiousness to consider myself as funny as Coluche, or Desproges^^^^, but I’m not too shabby. I’m very good at impressions. […] That was Keiona. I can’t dance, and I can’t sing either. That’s why I’m relying on my… creativity! I look sweet and tame, but don’t understimate me, I can be someone you should be scared of if I want to. I’m a confident competitor, I don’t pay attention to my competition. I’m the next queen of France, because we haven’t had a queen under 5ft7 yet, and I think we should. I can’t wait to win the crown. I don’t want you to be under my spell too much, so I’ll leave now.
^from the South of France.
^^the phrase she uses, “yeux revolver” is a phrase meaning eyes/a look that can shoot you, but not in a mean way, rather as in a look that seduces you.
^^^the phrase she uses here, “mettre quelqu’un dans sa poche” / “put someone in your pocket” means completely winning them over with something you do, often strategically so they’re nice to you.
^^^^two extremely famous comedians/humorists in France. If you ask the average French person on the street who is considered/is the best French humorist of all time, there are good chances they'll say one of the two.
Misty Phoenix : Wait. Okay, all good. I almost burped. I’m Misty Phoenix, I’m 24 – wait, no, I’m 23. I’m from Avignon, in the real South^, with our calissons^^, our melons… that’s a lot of words ending in -on. I’m a Capricorn, very important thing to mention. Capricorns have a shitty temper, and I’m a Scorpio rising, which is even worse. I’m a performer, a dancer, and a racaille^^^, I like to bring that element. (What she does afterwards is the sign of Jul, one of the most famous rappers in France, this sign is pretty much just part of French culture now.) Wesh la zone.^^^^ I don’t know how to explain, not like […], more like […]. But I’m pretty, so it’s fine if I act like that. My parents have inspired me to start doing drag. We’ve always liked dressing up, in the family. My mum used to dress up as Dalida, and my dad, as Nana Mouskouri. My dad in Nana Mouskouri drag could have been in the cast, because he’s the spitting image of Nicky Doll. No, I’m joking, that’s not true, don’t keep that in the edit. I love being outrageous. I absolutely would come on stage jumping down from the roof, or by helicopter, if I could. I have a fear of heights, but I’d still do it. I’m not scared of anything. I love showers, I love water. I love drinking water. I’d say I’m an aquatic person, but I’m not a Pisces. Don’t make me laugh! I’m a fierce competitor, but I’m always here to lend a helping hand. I can help you with your makeup if you want, but I’ll make sure you look ugly. I want to win Drag Race France. I don’t know if the other girls are ready to compete against me, because I’m going to kick their asses. I’m not a delicate little flower. The crown is mine.
^the South-West and South-East of France are two very different regions with their own traditions, specialties, accents etc, and people from either region will claim their part of Southern France is the “proper” South.
^^a type of candy that is a specialty from that region of France.
^^^I guess the closest thing in the English language would be “””chav”””, “racaille” in general implies a young person with bad behaviour especially in regards to authority, sometimes committing petty offenses, often talking in a rude manner, dressing in a certain way… it does have racist/classist roots and connotations if used in its usual context by older people or wealthier people, but here it's just funny to see a drag queen describe herself in that way. It's an imperfect definition, explaining accurately what that word means isn't really easy.
^^^^Quite untranslatable, it’s the title of one Jul’s songs, it means “what’s up guys”, in a slang very much associated with rappers for example, honestly I'm not sure I have the words to accurately describe the social context of it in English, but again, it sounds funny coming from a drag queen.
Leona Winter : All good. I’m ready. I’m Leona Winter, I’m 28 – already! Oh my god! I’m of Catalan descent, but mum is Ch’ti^, so I’m both from the North and the South. I’m sweet, a real Care Bear. I love hugs and kisses. I’m known as a beauty queen - with beautiful gowns, jewelry, tight updos with not a single strand of hair out of place - but mainly as a singer. But I’m more than that. I want to break out of this image, I want to have fun, I want to get dirty^^, I’ve had enough of being a beauty, now it’s time for the beast to come out. Nice one, right? We can keep that in the edit. You can say I’m a little used to competitions, I was Miss Europe Continental, Miss Latina Continental… Drag Race is going to be completely different. I’m excited to see what it’ll be like for me. It doesn’t matter what the other girls do, my biggest competition is myself. I have to express all the juice inside of this big orange. Believe me, I can bring it. My special talent is that I have very deep nostrils. Isn’t that glamorous? What the crown represents to me is first of all a lot of money. Me, a material girl? Not at all. I’ll be ready to fight tooth and nail, until I bleed, to get that crown. And the winner of Drag Race France is… me! Obviously. Bye!
^from the Nord-pas-de-Calais region of France.
^^meant not in a sexual way, but as the literal meaning of the word, like "getting your hands dirty".
Norma Bell : Which camera do I look at? That one? How’s my hair? I’m Norma Bell, I’m 25, and I’m originally from Reunion Island. […] Didn’t understand that, did you? But you liked it? That’s what matters. Drag is the most all-encompassing form of expression, to me. It helps me find balance in my day-to-day life. I recommend it to everyone. You do drag, you do drag, you… yeah, no. I have many strengths. I’m a showgirl, I love to set the stage on fire. I want to share that little sparkle that drag ignites in me with people. I want to inspire, and I'd like to exhale too, right now^. I’m a little narcissistic, not going to lie, I think I’m beautiful. Look away! When I was younger, I could fart with my armpits, I don’t know if I can still do it. My nails keep falling off! Being a drag queen means having your nails fall off, your hair hurts, your balls hurt… it’s a high-risk job. I’d say I’m nice, other people say I’m a little mean. I don’t see myself the way other people see me, that’s crazy! Am I delusional? Yes! I’m very excited to be on season 3 of Drag Race France. I’m here to stomp all over these girls, I want to be queen of France. Me with a crown on my head, now wouldn't that be a pretty sight? Start your engines, fasten your seatbelts, put your helmets on, I’m coming. I’m warning you, I haven’t traveled 6 800 miles to not win this crown.
^“inhale” and “inspire” are the same word, in French.
Edeha Noire : I’m Edeha Noire, I’m 34, and I’m from Lyon. I’m way too intense. You’ve got to be extra, in life. I’m sleeping, now I’m awake. I do drag because it’s the only way for me to truly exist, and to shine. I can destroy a bouquet of flowers on stage, tear apart my outfit, just to give something to the audience. I keep giving, giving and giving! I’m a woman, I’m a man, I break every norm. I can cry in a snap of the fingers. Or I can scream. I’m a mum, and my dream is for my daughter to see me on TV. [Elia], I’m here! Mum is on Drag Race, be proud of me! I believe in myself. When I get knocked down, I always get back up. I have an incredible level of motivation. Drag Race is the chance of my life. I want to win, the crown is mine! I want it, I won’t give up. Nicky, be ready for Edeha Noire to light up this competition.
Perseo : I’m Perseo, I’m 21, I’m from the Canary Islands, in Spain. Canarian drag queens wear 13-inch heels, shiny things with rhinestones, helmets, very carnival-y outfits. I’ve been doing ballet since I was very small. I used to dance at the Paris Opera school. I was a “petit rat de l’Opéra”^, yes indeed! I’m all about joy, laughing, partying, I’m the perfect friend for a good night out. In life, I try and listen to what other people have to say, but if it bores me, I’m out. I have a problem with problems. Am I someone the others should be scared of? If I want to, I can be. I can become a demon. If I hit you in the face with my 13-inch heels, you’ll be scared, for sure. Being on Drag Race France is an opportunity for me to show the world who Perseo is. I’m going to give my absolute all in this competition. You have no idea! I may be Spanish, but I’ll win the French crown. Brace yourselves, because I’m going to slay the competition. I’m breaking the set!
^name given to children who enter the school as ballet students.
Ruby on the Nail : Don’t adjust the lights, she has arrived. I’m Ruby on the Nail, and I’m…who am I? I’m 34, I originally come from Marseille, and I’ve been doing drag for 6 years. Ruby on the Nail is beautiful, gorgeous, stunning… Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and I think “Wow, hello. Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” My drag takes its inspiration from old Hollywood glamour, Rita Hayworth has inspired me a lot, and the Little Mermaid as well, because she has a nice tail.^ I’m very much a drag queen-next-door. You can find me literally on your doorstep. “It’s me, Ruby! Want to see a little performance?” One, and two, and three, and four. I’m known as the lip sync assassin of Paris and its general area. Three, four… That was “La danse des canards”!^^ It’s my favourite song. I want to compete on Drag Race for the glory, and to show my mum how beautiful her son is. Hi, mum! I have two things to say to people watching: never be afraid to be yourself, and I’m single. My number is: 06...- Call me. I’m ready to win, give me the crown! I’ve been waiting for her for three seasons now! It would really suit me, don’t you think? Are we done? Can I go? Bye!
^in French, “queue”/”tail” is a familiar way of saying penis.
^^“The Duck Dance”… a silly song released in the 80s that every single French person knows, literally one of the best-selling singles of all time here.
2024.05.05 03:56 CosmicToaster How long does a dog tick need to be attached to transmit RMSF?
My partner found a dog tick on me last Tuesday evening. It was attached to my armpit, and I must have picked it up early in the morning as my job had taken me through some fields to change some signs along the side of the highway earlier that day.
By my estimates, the tick may have been attached as long as 12 hours, maybe less. I would have likely picked up the little guy between 7 and 10am, and the tick was removed a little after 10pm that same day.
The tick wasn’t engorged, so I wasn’t worried at first. Everything online says it’s quite rare, so I went over the symptoms to lookout for and went about business as usual.
Fast forward to Friday. My day at work starts off pretty normal, but towards the end of the day I started feeling very fatigued. My job is a little physically demanding, but it was strange for me to be feeling this way (shortness of breath mild headache, and legs feeling jiggly like jello). I wrote it off as maybe I pushed myself too hard, and went home.
About 5pm that night, I started feeling uneasy. By 6pm, I was full on nauseous and in pain. I asked my partner to take me to an urgent care, and she agreed. Booked an appointment a couple towns over, and took the most unpleasant car ride I’ve had in recent memory.
I get seen by a nurse practitioner, who overall is very dismissive. I explain to her the situation about the tick, how long it was attached. That Lyme disease was not what I was worried about, and from the looks of it RMSF wasn’t anything she has ever dealt with or known about. She proceeded to test me for Covid, and a couple other viral infections. She didn’t believe it would be a tick borne illness as she said Lyme disease is only transmitted after a tick is attached for 36 hours. I advised her again that I’m not concerned about Lyme disease as dog ticks don’t carry that disease.
She then asked me “what disease are you concerned about again?” And proceeded to leave and take 10 minutes to read up on it.
She came back and advised that she doesn’t think RMSF is likely as it’s rare, I don’t have a fever, I don’t have a rash, yada yada.
She still proceeded to give me a 7 day supply of doxycycline, and felt the need to tell me that whatever was ailing me was probably viral.
So what now?
I’m thinking I should see my PCP and still get bloodwork done. From what I understand, the bloodwork will show up negative for a lot of people initially, and me starting doxycycline today won’t help with getting an accurate test result.
Is 7 days of doxycycline enough for early treatment of RMSF? Everything I see online recommends 10-30 days, and I’ve even seen as high as 4-6 weeks but I think that’s done when diagnosis is done later.
Anyway, thanks to anyone who made it this far. Any advice is greatly appreciated. Thank you!
submitted by CosmicToaster to Lyme [link] [comments]
By my estimates, the tick may have been attached as long as 12 hours, maybe less. I would have likely picked up the little guy between 7 and 10am, and the tick was removed a little after 10pm that same day.
The tick wasn’t engorged, so I wasn’t worried at first. Everything online says it’s quite rare, so I went over the symptoms to lookout for and went about business as usual.
Fast forward to Friday. My day at work starts off pretty normal, but towards the end of the day I started feeling very fatigued. My job is a little physically demanding, but it was strange for me to be feeling this way (shortness of breath mild headache, and legs feeling jiggly like jello). I wrote it off as maybe I pushed myself too hard, and went home.
About 5pm that night, I started feeling uneasy. By 6pm, I was full on nauseous and in pain. I asked my partner to take me to an urgent care, and she agreed. Booked an appointment a couple towns over, and took the most unpleasant car ride I’ve had in recent memory.
I get seen by a nurse practitioner, who overall is very dismissive. I explain to her the situation about the tick, how long it was attached. That Lyme disease was not what I was worried about, and from the looks of it RMSF wasn’t anything she has ever dealt with or known about. She proceeded to test me for Covid, and a couple other viral infections. She didn’t believe it would be a tick borne illness as she said Lyme disease is only transmitted after a tick is attached for 36 hours. I advised her again that I’m not concerned about Lyme disease as dog ticks don’t carry that disease.
She then asked me “what disease are you concerned about again?” And proceeded to leave and take 10 minutes to read up on it.
She came back and advised that she doesn’t think RMSF is likely as it’s rare, I don’t have a fever, I don’t have a rash, yada yada.
She still proceeded to give me a 7 day supply of doxycycline, and felt the need to tell me that whatever was ailing me was probably viral.
So what now?
I’m thinking I should see my PCP and still get bloodwork done. From what I understand, the bloodwork will show up negative for a lot of people initially, and me starting doxycycline today won’t help with getting an accurate test result.
Is 7 days of doxycycline enough for early treatment of RMSF? Everything I see online recommends 10-30 days, and I’ve even seen as high as 4-6 weeks but I think that’s done when diagnosis is done later.
Anyway, thanks to anyone who made it this far. Any advice is greatly appreciated. Thank you!
2024.04.21 02:47 LunaFalls Getting a surgical procedure done in Monday to find out if it's cancer (lymphoma)
Hi BroMos, there's so much to say and write, but I'm so so so exhausted that I don't think I can right now. But I also need some support or good stories.
So, I have lupus. We lived in AZ. Even as a child and teenager, I could not stand being in the sun or heat, and eventually even a 10 minute drive in the sun could make me feel "sun sick" as I called it. Friends called me a vampire for ensuring 0 sun entered my bedroom at any time, not wanting to do water parks or anything in direct sun. I've wanted to leave that hellish weather my whole life, and with the lupus diagnosis in my mid 20s, it all made sense. Sun triggers flares.
Then, also in my 20s, I had developed horrendous allergic reactions to 29 desert plants, with 12 or 13 of them being the most severe rating at the dermatologist. I never really got the sniffles, sneezing, watery eyes people complain about. My body went straight to hives, then quickly to anaphylaxis. For these reasons, I've wanted and needed to move for forever. I've had Colorado in my sights since high school.
We moved to Denver last June, and it was a magical time. Overnight I was able to stop ALL 5 allergy pills, and the inhaler, and the steroids, and still carry my epi pens but that's more to have on hand if I witness someone experiencing anaphylaxis than for myself now. I had energy, could be outside SO MUCH more, the air, plants, and neverending sunny days weren't actively trying to kill me. I felt amazing.
Then I was laid off in a mass layoff at my tech company. Fuck. But it's okay, I'll get something quick. 300+ applications and about 50 interviews later (where I got to the final in so many. These final interviews were the 5th, 6th, or for one company, the 8th interview. It was a full time job applying), I was starting to truly think we would be homeless by Christmas. This stress started a flare right before I got my offer.
I started getting a new type of rash in November,and only in my armpits at first. The skin gets like velvety soft first then the next day will be so tight, too tight, if I lift my arm it feels like it's ripping,and looks like it's ripped when I look. Just hundreds of tiny red lines and dots, very dry, and I just assumed it was a new lupus rash but tried to go without deodorant after the 3rd time. It continued to appear, but soon it was armpits and inner thighs/groin. Then it was those areas, plus my hips. Then my ribs. Then the backs of my knees. Etc. it was getting more severe each time and I was uneasy because the locations were where lymph nodes are congregated most. I tried to ignore, but showed my doctor. He thought autoimmune and I was waiting on rheumatologist appointment still.
So, started new job in a flare but hid it. Then the morning after the holiday party, I had a very itchy burning lil rash on the back of my neck that grew scary fast in a few hours. Felt/looked like cellulitis? Did a video consult, for antibiotics, it seemed to respond the first day and it came back worse by morning. Now my entire right side and full front of my neck, chin to collarbone, were lobster red and the itch. Dear God the itch. I've never experienced anything that feels this desperately itchy but also burns if you scratch. The creepy thing was it seemed to react STRONGLY to hot water warm water, warm air. Anything warm in the area would activate the whole rash, and I could trace the outline of it halfway up the back of my head and on neck just by feel when the water hit.
So, got stronger antibiotics. Nothing. It wasn't an infection. Tried antihistamines orally and creams. Tried steroids, nothing. Tried even stronger steroids after a desperate ER visit, nothing. By this point doctors all agreed it must be autoimmune. After about a month it started to shrink.
It made me nervous when a few weeks later, the same starting spot was burning and itching as soon as warm water touched it . Meanwhile the little lines rash amped up.
I messaged my rheumatologist with the lines rash photos along with other things occurring at the same time, and rheumatologist suspected an additional autoimmune disease that fit these other symptoms that have been blamed on lupus but started more recently, and when my lupus stuff goes away these others remain. But she couldn't explain the lines rash and it doesn't look autoimmune.
I was already thinking lymphoma from the itching and new rashes but was trying to not be dramatic and jump to that from some rashes. When she mentioned the other disease I had about 5 minutes of relief because yes the pictures look just like my hands and red raccoon eye (but painless) rash that started AZ. So we can treat that, and I'll be good!.. But immediately the fear of lymphoma returned when I read that 20-30% of people with this autoimmune thing have cancer in the first 5 years and it's usually lymphoma.
We did labs for that disease too, but they take 2 weeks and aren't back yet either.
Finally, just feeling worse and worse, pain upper left side, pain in right groin, hair started falling out in clumps and sores covered my head. I chopped off what was left of my hair since I was going to have to cover my head anyways. That's when I saw Fred. A massive lymph node STICKING OUT THE SIDE OF MY NECK. Like a second head. My hair had covered it since it's to the back side of my neck. Saw my rheumatologist, she referred me for ultrasound. In that interim, I cried on an airplane bc I felt so bad and that WAS A MISTAKE. My face got so full in of fluid and couldn't drain fast enough, which causes a ton of new head sores, the node looked even more massive, and I felt so horrible. Went to the ER the day after plane incident because the nodes must be pinching a nerve when I lay to sleep and I awoke to a completely numb arm all the way to my middle finger tip. Numb as could be. I was laying in my normal side position with a leg and a hugging pillow. I flipped to the other side and within minutes that arm started to go numb. When feeling returned it was excruciating so that's why ER. They saw i had all these appointments lined up so didn't do diagnostics, only symptom management.
This was 2 weeks ago. Since then, I have had an ultrasound of my neck and a skin biopsy with a few punches taken from where the itchy neck rash starts. The ultrasound was not good. There's a chance it's not cancer, but .. the one node really doesn't look great (round, missing fatty hilum, other abnormalities ) and there are even larger ones deeper in that I can feel but aren't as visible as Fred and didn't look as bad on ultrasound. I don't like my odds here. They are removing the lymph node tomorrow to biopsy. Skin biopsy just happened so don't have results yet.
So right now, I'm waiting. Waiting on everything while I keep feeling like shit. My mom died of cancer, a different aggressive cancer, but it's bringing back all of those memories too.
And when I MOST NEED support, my partner who is usually incredible, had some temper tantrums and was just being a massive asshole picking fights. Then was distant. He's now apologized profusely but it doesn't take back the feeling of abandonment on the hardest days of this saga. Like when I got my ultrasound results, the day I was crying on the plane. those were the hardest days and I felt utterly alone while he was being ridiculous about minor , ordinary, none-issues. Normal life annoyances.
So I don't know, I'm stuck in limbo right now. He's again, admitted everything he did wrong, apologized a lot, but I feel I have put up a wall after those days. I'm not interested in sex (not that he's pushing it or initiating with the pain I'm in) even though I'm always down for it, even when in pain. I just want to pull away and cry and I'm not over the hurt. My first husband mentally checked out and then turned into an asshole the year I was grieving my mom dying. Lost him and our friends. I was too sad for too long and got dumped. So my current partner acting like this just felt like, oh. It's starting again. A formerly caring, kind, thoughtful, happy partner turns into an asshole over night when things get too real. My abandonment issues are strong, and I don't know how to heal or move forward and truly forgive while everything is falling apart. I know he has been handling everything with the kids and needs a break, like logically I know. But my heart hurts.
It feels like I finally made my dream come true to be in Denver, and it's falling apart. But, at least, my drives to the doctor are beautiful and I can step outside and get lost in the beauty of nature, the Rockies, the cute wildlife I've never encountered until now, for a few moments every day.
submitted by LunaFalls to breakingmom [link] [comments]
So, I have lupus. We lived in AZ. Even as a child and teenager, I could not stand being in the sun or heat, and eventually even a 10 minute drive in the sun could make me feel "sun sick" as I called it. Friends called me a vampire for ensuring 0 sun entered my bedroom at any time, not wanting to do water parks or anything in direct sun. I've wanted to leave that hellish weather my whole life, and with the lupus diagnosis in my mid 20s, it all made sense. Sun triggers flares.
Then, also in my 20s, I had developed horrendous allergic reactions to 29 desert plants, with 12 or 13 of them being the most severe rating at the dermatologist. I never really got the sniffles, sneezing, watery eyes people complain about. My body went straight to hives, then quickly to anaphylaxis. For these reasons, I've wanted and needed to move for forever. I've had Colorado in my sights since high school.
We moved to Denver last June, and it was a magical time. Overnight I was able to stop ALL 5 allergy pills, and the inhaler, and the steroids, and still carry my epi pens but that's more to have on hand if I witness someone experiencing anaphylaxis than for myself now. I had energy, could be outside SO MUCH more, the air, plants, and neverending sunny days weren't actively trying to kill me. I felt amazing.
Then I was laid off in a mass layoff at my tech company. Fuck. But it's okay, I'll get something quick. 300+ applications and about 50 interviews later (where I got to the final in so many. These final interviews were the 5th, 6th, or for one company, the 8th interview. It was a full time job applying), I was starting to truly think we would be homeless by Christmas. This stress started a flare right before I got my offer.
I started getting a new type of rash in November,and only in my armpits at first. The skin gets like velvety soft first then the next day will be so tight, too tight, if I lift my arm it feels like it's ripping,and looks like it's ripped when I look. Just hundreds of tiny red lines and dots, very dry, and I just assumed it was a new lupus rash but tried to go without deodorant after the 3rd time. It continued to appear, but soon it was armpits and inner thighs/groin. Then it was those areas, plus my hips. Then my ribs. Then the backs of my knees. Etc. it was getting more severe each time and I was uneasy because the locations were where lymph nodes are congregated most. I tried to ignore, but showed my doctor. He thought autoimmune and I was waiting on rheumatologist appointment still.
So, started new job in a flare but hid it. Then the morning after the holiday party, I had a very itchy burning lil rash on the back of my neck that grew scary fast in a few hours. Felt/looked like cellulitis? Did a video consult, for antibiotics, it seemed to respond the first day and it came back worse by morning. Now my entire right side and full front of my neck, chin to collarbone, were lobster red and the itch. Dear God the itch. I've never experienced anything that feels this desperately itchy but also burns if you scratch. The creepy thing was it seemed to react STRONGLY to hot water warm water, warm air. Anything warm in the area would activate the whole rash, and I could trace the outline of it halfway up the back of my head and on neck just by feel when the water hit.
So, got stronger antibiotics. Nothing. It wasn't an infection. Tried antihistamines orally and creams. Tried steroids, nothing. Tried even stronger steroids after a desperate ER visit, nothing. By this point doctors all agreed it must be autoimmune. After about a month it started to shrink.
It made me nervous when a few weeks later, the same starting spot was burning and itching as soon as warm water touched it . Meanwhile the little lines rash amped up.
I messaged my rheumatologist with the lines rash photos along with other things occurring at the same time, and rheumatologist suspected an additional autoimmune disease that fit these other symptoms that have been blamed on lupus but started more recently, and when my lupus stuff goes away these others remain. But she couldn't explain the lines rash and it doesn't look autoimmune.
I was already thinking lymphoma from the itching and new rashes but was trying to not be dramatic and jump to that from some rashes. When she mentioned the other disease I had about 5 minutes of relief because yes the pictures look just like my hands and red raccoon eye (but painless) rash that started AZ. So we can treat that, and I'll be good!.. But immediately the fear of lymphoma returned when I read that 20-30% of people with this autoimmune thing have cancer in the first 5 years and it's usually lymphoma.
We did labs for that disease too, but they take 2 weeks and aren't back yet either.
Finally, just feeling worse and worse, pain upper left side, pain in right groin, hair started falling out in clumps and sores covered my head. I chopped off what was left of my hair since I was going to have to cover my head anyways. That's when I saw Fred. A massive lymph node STICKING OUT THE SIDE OF MY NECK. Like a second head. My hair had covered it since it's to the back side of my neck. Saw my rheumatologist, she referred me for ultrasound. In that interim, I cried on an airplane bc I felt so bad and that WAS A MISTAKE. My face got so full in of fluid and couldn't drain fast enough, which causes a ton of new head sores, the node looked even more massive, and I felt so horrible. Went to the ER the day after plane incident because the nodes must be pinching a nerve when I lay to sleep and I awoke to a completely numb arm all the way to my middle finger tip. Numb as could be. I was laying in my normal side position with a leg and a hugging pillow. I flipped to the other side and within minutes that arm started to go numb. When feeling returned it was excruciating so that's why ER. They saw i had all these appointments lined up so didn't do diagnostics, only symptom management.
This was 2 weeks ago. Since then, I have had an ultrasound of my neck and a skin biopsy with a few punches taken from where the itchy neck rash starts. The ultrasound was not good. There's a chance it's not cancer, but .. the one node really doesn't look great (round, missing fatty hilum, other abnormalities ) and there are even larger ones deeper in that I can feel but aren't as visible as Fred and didn't look as bad on ultrasound. I don't like my odds here. They are removing the lymph node tomorrow to biopsy. Skin biopsy just happened so don't have results yet.
So right now, I'm waiting. Waiting on everything while I keep feeling like shit. My mom died of cancer, a different aggressive cancer, but it's bringing back all of those memories too.
And when I MOST NEED support, my partner who is usually incredible, had some temper tantrums and was just being a massive asshole picking fights. Then was distant. He's now apologized profusely but it doesn't take back the feeling of abandonment on the hardest days of this saga. Like when I got my ultrasound results, the day I was crying on the plane. those were the hardest days and I felt utterly alone while he was being ridiculous about minor , ordinary, none-issues. Normal life annoyances.
So I don't know, I'm stuck in limbo right now. He's again, admitted everything he did wrong, apologized a lot, but I feel I have put up a wall after those days. I'm not interested in sex (not that he's pushing it or initiating with the pain I'm in) even though I'm always down for it, even when in pain. I just want to pull away and cry and I'm not over the hurt. My first husband mentally checked out and then turned into an asshole the year I was grieving my mom dying. Lost him and our friends. I was too sad for too long and got dumped. So my current partner acting like this just felt like, oh. It's starting again. A formerly caring, kind, thoughtful, happy partner turns into an asshole over night when things get too real. My abandonment issues are strong, and I don't know how to heal or move forward and truly forgive while everything is falling apart. I know he has been handling everything with the kids and needs a break, like logically I know. But my heart hurts.
It feels like I finally made my dream come true to be in Denver, and it's falling apart. But, at least, my drives to the doctor are beautiful and I can step outside and get lost in the beauty of nature, the Rockies, the cute wildlife I've never encountered until now, for a few moments every day.
2024.04.16 23:39 ralo_ramone An Otherworldly Scholar [LitRPG, Isekai] - Chapter 110
Elincia’s feline grace turned into predatory precision, and without warning, she pounced over Astrid as she violently drew from my mana pool. Bright blue sparks crackled around Elincia’s arms as she pushed Astrid to the ground. When did Elincia learn how to channel mana offensively?
Astrid raised her arms just in time to divert Elincia’s punch. The fist grazed Astrid’s face, leaving a red mark, but Elincia didn’t stop there. She siphoned even more mana from my reserves, sending a shiver down my spine. I could almost feel Elincia’s anger flowing like a river of flames across our connection.
My first reaction was to channel my mana, waiting for Astrid to retaliate. The Book of Classes had given me a general idea of the combat prowess of most Classes, although the power graduation methodology was still unknown to me. Zealots, however, were a mystery even for the book’s author. Their page was blank. I sharpened my mana sense, hoping to see Astrid channeling her mana before she cast whatever Skill she had prepared.
But nothing happened. Astrid limited herself to coiling her legs around Elincia’s abdomen and blocking her punches. Elincia was a bright blue flame, while Astrid was a gray opaque slate against a background illuminated by environmental mana.
“Stop!” I yelled, turning my mana into a rope and grabbing Elincia’s wrist.
Elincia fought against the mana shackles but ultimately surrendered. I grabbed her by the armpits and broke the fight. She slapped my hands away as soon as she stood and retreated to the stone steps. Something was wrong with Astrid. She didn’t seem to have more mana than Zaon or Wolf, and even Ilya had more before she achieved her Class.
“She has no mana. You were going to kill her,” I said.
Astrid rolled away. Her face grew more swollen by the second, even though Elincia hadn’t managed to connect one good blow.
“What makes you think I don’t want her dead?” Elincia replied, panting.
I sighed. Elincia wasn’t herself that night.
“You are not like that, Eli. Since the moment you got your Class, you have been helping others. You even sacrificed your desire to become a Hunter to become an Alchemist and help the orphanage,” I reminded her.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Elincia grunted.
Astrid used her knees as support and stood up. She remained silent, but a guilty expression crept on her face. I looked at her with renewed interest. Her long black hair was made a mess, and her cloak was torn apart. Astrid was the fourth orphan who had inherited Mr. Lowell’s lifelong project and the first one to betray it. Elincia and Astrid never got along, but my instinct told me there was more to it than a simple betrayal.
Maybe it was the [Scholar] Class wanting to know the truth, but something inside me needed to make sense of the orphanage’s story. I took a deep breath and let my mana go. Astrid was the last piece of the puzzle.
Risha had enlisted in the army to provide the orphanage with a steady flow of money while Elincia was away, collecting alchemy ingredients in the Farlands. Astrid was in charge of informing Elincia and Ginz, but she mysteriously disappeared that night. But why? It didn’t make sense.
Astrid searched in her pockets and handed me the copper bracelet.
“No surprise you arrived on your own. The manor used to be your home,” I said as I recovered the bracelet.
I felt like an idiot. Risha even told me Astrid’s name while he told me the story of his departure from the orphanage. I gave [Awareness] a metaphorical look of contempt, but I knew it wasn’t the skill’s fault. I directed the skill toward certain chores, like observation and vigilance, to avoid information overload.
“You know who I am?” Astrid asked.
“You were one of Mister Lowell’s orphans. I’ll introduce myself again. I’m Robert Clarke, a teacher and caretaker at the Lowell orphanage. We always welcome former students,” I said.
Elincia glanced at me murderously, but I ignored her. Whether she liked it or not, the manor was Astrid’s home for the first sixteen years of her life. And despite Astrid’s betrayal, my gut told me there was more to it.
“Elincia and Risha told me about you, but I think it would be fair to listen to your side of the story,” I said, adopting my best teacher’s voice.
“I can tell you the whole story. She betrayed us and made it all worse,” Elincia grunted.
I shook my head. Elincia deserved to know the whole story. No. She needed to see the truth to make sense of the last decade of her life, even if it was painful. I wouldn’t let Astrid go before she told us her side of the story. It was the least I could do for Elincia after she completely changed my life.
Damned be the System and its Quests.
“I want to hear it myself. Let’s go to the kitchen,” I said, walking into the manor.
Astrid hesitated for a moment but ultimately followed. Once inside the receiving room, I noticed she walked toward the western wing.
“Not there. One of the beams in the ceiling rotted, so we use the service kitchen,” I said.
Astrid followed in silence, examining the peeling paint of the old walls and the spots where old portraits and tapestries used to hang. Even if I never knew the orphanage's original appearance, I could tell the manor used to be an elegant and distinguished place. There were details that even time and misery couldn’t take away; the sturdiness of the doors, the ornate brass knobs, the solid iron window frames. Astrid didn’t comment on anything.
I lit the kitchen’s light stones and fed the oven embers. Elincia leaned against the counter and watched us in silence. To say she was annoyed was an Olympic understatement.
“This was the room where the maids used to hang out. We weren’t allowed here,” Astrid said, examining the room.
“Did Elincia use to spend a lot of time here?” I asked.
Astrid left her cloak on the bench and sat at the table without answering.
“Is Risha coming?” Astrid asked after a moment of silence.
Elincia let out a dry laugh, but I understood the question. My previous words could be interpreted as Risha still living at the orphanage, but that wasn’t the case. Astrid didn’t know that Risha had been missing as long as her.
“The best I can do is Ginz,” I said.
“That’s not much,” Astrid replied.
“At least he is here, unlike you two,” Elincia pointed out; her words were daggers.
Astrid deserved Elincia’s contempt and probably much more. Yet, I couldn’t help but sense something was out of place in the orphanage’s history.
Why did Astrid abandon the orphanage without telling Elincia that Risha had enlisted? I could understand those two never got along, but that level of sabotage against Mister Lowell’s legacy was uncalled for. Astrid might dislike Elincia, but that wasn’t a reason to retaliate against the other orphans. Moreover, Elincia would know Risha’s whereabouts when the payments started rolling, so Astrid didn’t have a reason to hide the information.
It didn’t make sense, no matter what angle I looked at it from. The kettle broke the silence, and I poured three cups of tea. Elincia didn’t bother touching hers. It was the moment for answers.
“I know you were Risha’s accomplice, Astrid. I don’t know why you left the city without telling Elincia about Risha’s whereabouts,” I said.
“I thought we were going to talk about the System’s Quest,” Astrid coldly replied, but I noticed a certain urgency in her voice.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact origin of the urgency, but she had endured Elincia’s blows without complaining just to talk about her Quest. There were other questions I wanted answered first.
“There's no need to rush it. It’s been almost a decade since you last visited the orphanage; you must have a couple of minutes to spare. To catch up,” I calmly said.
Astrid’s uneasiness only grew. Was it the lack of the Zealot’s mask? During our previous encounters she seemed to be more of the composed type.
“Why did you leave the orphanage? Elincia, Ginz, and Risha needed you,” I asked.
Astrid sighed, accepting this was an obligatory detour before talking about the System.
“The orphanage didn’t need me. Ginz became a Craftsman, and Elincia an Alchemist. You don’t get better crafting Classes than that. Even Risha got a decent combat Class,” Astrid replied, her Zealot composure slowly being washed away. “My presence here didn’t change anything.”
“I’m not accusing you, Astrid, but you could’ve at least relayed Risha’s message. What was it that you couldn’t wait a single day to leave?” I asked.
Astrid gave me a bitter smile. She had three sets of long canines, one longer than the others.
“You don’t have much choice when you become a Zealot,” Astrid said. “Why does it matter, though? Elincia was a talented Alchemist, Ginz was passionate about his craft, and Risha had more strength than what was healthy for him. I wouldn’t make a difference even if I got any other Class.”
For an almighty Zealot, Astrid had quite a low self-esteem.
“Everyone has a choice,” I pointed out.
My words seemed to offend her.
“A Zealot? Choice? You don’t know what you are talking about, Scholar,” Astrid sighed, covering her face with both hands.
Despite her words, I didn’t feel any ill intent against me.
“Our Quests are an itch in the back of our brains—an itch that can’t be scratched unless you accomplish your mission. It’s like ants crawling under your skull.”
Astrid looked at me directly, and I noticed a glint of madness in her yellow eyes. She clenched her fists, and a drop of blood fell on the table. For an instant, I feared she lost control of herself, but ultimately, she regained control.
“And now I’m stuck with an unsolvable Quest, and this sensation inside me urging me to do something to solve the quest,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Zealots eventually learn how to control the discomfort; otherwise, we couldn’t even sleep. At first, however, it is almost unbearable. When I got my Class, the System told me to travel to the capital.”
I nodded in silence. Being a Zealot wasn’t as glamorous as I initially thought; it sounded more like a curse than a blessing.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“What do you mean? The System chose me. My mission is a great honor and a great responsibility,” Astrid replied defensively.
Enslaving the Zealots and convincing them their captor blessed them was cruel yet effective. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Astrid. Even if the people of this world were tied to their Class until their death, they had a certain level of freedom to choose which Class they wanted. Zealots, on the other hand, were pawns forced into obedience.
“I’m still sorry for you. Elincia can choose not to brew potions, but you can’t stop obeying the System. The whole situation seems unfair,” I said. “But that doesn’t excuse you for the problems you caused the orphanage.”
“What do you mean? I have been traveling the continent for almost a decade. How could I have caused problems to the orphanage?”
With Astrid’s piece, the orphanage’s story came together.
“Mister Lowell knew he was sick some time before he died. Mister Byrne offered him treatment, which meant traveling across the Farlands back to Connecticut, maybe permanently. Mister Lowell decided to stay at the orphanage despite knowing he would eventually lose to sickness,” I explained, catching both Elincia and Astrid by surprise.
“How do you know that?” Astrid asked.
“When Mister Lowell died, you four took charge of the orphanage. Things went well for a while, but then money ran short. Elincia was too low of a level to make any real money, Ginz spent more on materials than what he earned, and you were classless. Risha tried to bring money by escorting Alchemists from the Guild and second-class merchants, but it wasn’t enough for the number of orphans living in the manor at the time.”
Astrid shrunk in her seat, knowing what came next.
“Noticing the orphanage was on course for a disaster, Risha confided to you he would enlist. The Royal Army was bolstering its ranks for the Farlands Campaign, and Risha understood that one less mouth and extra income would keep the orphanage afloat. It would help Ginz pay for materials to develop his Class and give Elincia time to improve hers. But before you could tell Elincia about Risha’s plans, you got your Class, and the System dragged you to the capital,” I continued with the story.
“What’s the problem then?” Astrid asked.
“Risha’s money never arrived,” I replied.
“Risha died!?” Astrid jumped from her seat.
I sighed, alleviated. Astrid’s reaction told me everything I needed to know about Risha; the only reason he would’ve stopped helping the orphanage was his death. My trust in Risha seemed well-placed.
“Risha is alive and well. We believe he sent the money, but it was stolen before it reached the orphanage. The lack of communication between the frontlines and the rest of the kingdom helped the thieves scam many soldiers. We only found out about the missing money after the army retreated into the city,” I explained. “Elincia and Ginz believed Risha, and you abandoned the orphanage to its fate. Ginz left shortly after you; he wasn't ready to bear the burden, leaving Elincia alone.”
Astrid was out of words.
“Are you finished?” Elincia grunted.
“No,” I replied, focusing back on Astrid. “Elincia has looked after the orphanage since then, believing you and Risha betrayed her. Have you looked around, Astrid? Do you think the orphanage is in a particularly good spot? You could’ve crawled back to the manor and told Ginz about Risha’s whereabouts. You could’ve left a note.”
“It wasn’t my intention,” Astrid muttered.
“I know,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “The manor is in a better spot, but Elincia had to weather an unforgiving seven-year-long storm alone. I’m not the one who you need to ask for forgiveness. You owe her an apology.”
Elincia let out a dry laugh. “Why do you think I want an apology?”
Even if Elincia didn’t want to admit it, I knew she needed closure. The betrayal of her fellow orphans was still a festering wound in her heart, and no amount of love and affection would heal it. That wound could only be healed by Astrid, Risha, and Ginz.
“Elincia, listen. Someone is trying to harm the orphanage. Someone prompted Holst to poison our crops and tried to take the kids from us. Someone tipped the thieves that I carried the money from the potions. Someone has been trying to subvert the City Guard and kill Captain Kiln,” I said. “Someone is trying to sabotage the orphanage, but that person isn’t Astrid or Risha.”
“Like I care. As far as I am concerned, Astrid and Risha are as guilty as Holst and whoever is pulling the strings,” Elincia left her cold cup of tea on the counter and walked to the door, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
The prospect of a heartfelt reunion slowly slipped through my fingers.
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Astrid raised her arms just in time to divert Elincia’s punch. The fist grazed Astrid’s face, leaving a red mark, but Elincia didn’t stop there. She siphoned even more mana from my reserves, sending a shiver down my spine. I could almost feel Elincia’s anger flowing like a river of flames across our connection.
My first reaction was to channel my mana, waiting for Astrid to retaliate. The Book of Classes had given me a general idea of the combat prowess of most Classes, although the power graduation methodology was still unknown to me. Zealots, however, were a mystery even for the book’s author. Their page was blank. I sharpened my mana sense, hoping to see Astrid channeling her mana before she cast whatever Skill she had prepared.
But nothing happened. Astrid limited herself to coiling her legs around Elincia’s abdomen and blocking her punches. Elincia was a bright blue flame, while Astrid was a gray opaque slate against a background illuminated by environmental mana.
“Stop!” I yelled, turning my mana into a rope and grabbing Elincia’s wrist.
Elincia fought against the mana shackles but ultimately surrendered. I grabbed her by the armpits and broke the fight. She slapped my hands away as soon as she stood and retreated to the stone steps. Something was wrong with Astrid. She didn’t seem to have more mana than Zaon or Wolf, and even Ilya had more before she achieved her Class.
“She has no mana. You were going to kill her,” I said.
Astrid rolled away. Her face grew more swollen by the second, even though Elincia hadn’t managed to connect one good blow.
“What makes you think I don’t want her dead?” Elincia replied, panting.
I sighed. Elincia wasn’t herself that night.
“You are not like that, Eli. Since the moment you got your Class, you have been helping others. You even sacrificed your desire to become a Hunter to become an Alchemist and help the orphanage,” I reminded her.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Elincia grunted.
Astrid used her knees as support and stood up. She remained silent, but a guilty expression crept on her face. I looked at her with renewed interest. Her long black hair was made a mess, and her cloak was torn apart. Astrid was the fourth orphan who had inherited Mr. Lowell’s lifelong project and the first one to betray it. Elincia and Astrid never got along, but my instinct told me there was more to it than a simple betrayal.
Maybe it was the [Scholar] Class wanting to know the truth, but something inside me needed to make sense of the orphanage’s story. I took a deep breath and let my mana go. Astrid was the last piece of the puzzle.
Risha had enlisted in the army to provide the orphanage with a steady flow of money while Elincia was away, collecting alchemy ingredients in the Farlands. Astrid was in charge of informing Elincia and Ginz, but she mysteriously disappeared that night. But why? It didn’t make sense.
Astrid searched in her pockets and handed me the copper bracelet.
“No surprise you arrived on your own. The manor used to be your home,” I said as I recovered the bracelet.
I felt like an idiot. Risha even told me Astrid’s name while he told me the story of his departure from the orphanage. I gave [Awareness] a metaphorical look of contempt, but I knew it wasn’t the skill’s fault. I directed the skill toward certain chores, like observation and vigilance, to avoid information overload.
“You know who I am?” Astrid asked.
“You were one of Mister Lowell’s orphans. I’ll introduce myself again. I’m Robert Clarke, a teacher and caretaker at the Lowell orphanage. We always welcome former students,” I said.
Elincia glanced at me murderously, but I ignored her. Whether she liked it or not, the manor was Astrid’s home for the first sixteen years of her life. And despite Astrid’s betrayal, my gut told me there was more to it.
“Elincia and Risha told me about you, but I think it would be fair to listen to your side of the story,” I said, adopting my best teacher’s voice.
“I can tell you the whole story. She betrayed us and made it all worse,” Elincia grunted.
I shook my head. Elincia deserved to know the whole story. No. She needed to see the truth to make sense of the last decade of her life, even if it was painful. I wouldn’t let Astrid go before she told us her side of the story. It was the least I could do for Elincia after she completely changed my life.
Damned be the System and its Quests.
“I want to hear it myself. Let’s go to the kitchen,” I said, walking into the manor.
Astrid hesitated for a moment but ultimately followed. Once inside the receiving room, I noticed she walked toward the western wing.
“Not there. One of the beams in the ceiling rotted, so we use the service kitchen,” I said.
Astrid followed in silence, examining the peeling paint of the old walls and the spots where old portraits and tapestries used to hang. Even if I never knew the orphanage's original appearance, I could tell the manor used to be an elegant and distinguished place. There were details that even time and misery couldn’t take away; the sturdiness of the doors, the ornate brass knobs, the solid iron window frames. Astrid didn’t comment on anything.
I lit the kitchen’s light stones and fed the oven embers. Elincia leaned against the counter and watched us in silence. To say she was annoyed was an Olympic understatement.
“This was the room where the maids used to hang out. We weren’t allowed here,” Astrid said, examining the room.
“Did Elincia use to spend a lot of time here?” I asked.
Astrid left her cloak on the bench and sat at the table without answering.
“Is Risha coming?” Astrid asked after a moment of silence.
Elincia let out a dry laugh, but I understood the question. My previous words could be interpreted as Risha still living at the orphanage, but that wasn’t the case. Astrid didn’t know that Risha had been missing as long as her.
“The best I can do is Ginz,” I said.
“That’s not much,” Astrid replied.
“At least he is here, unlike you two,” Elincia pointed out; her words were daggers.
Astrid deserved Elincia’s contempt and probably much more. Yet, I couldn’t help but sense something was out of place in the orphanage’s history.
Why did Astrid abandon the orphanage without telling Elincia that Risha had enlisted? I could understand those two never got along, but that level of sabotage against Mister Lowell’s legacy was uncalled for. Astrid might dislike Elincia, but that wasn’t a reason to retaliate against the other orphans. Moreover, Elincia would know Risha’s whereabouts when the payments started rolling, so Astrid didn’t have a reason to hide the information.
It didn’t make sense, no matter what angle I looked at it from. The kettle broke the silence, and I poured three cups of tea. Elincia didn’t bother touching hers. It was the moment for answers.
“I know you were Risha’s accomplice, Astrid. I don’t know why you left the city without telling Elincia about Risha’s whereabouts,” I said.
“I thought we were going to talk about the System’s Quest,” Astrid coldly replied, but I noticed a certain urgency in her voice.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact origin of the urgency, but she had endured Elincia’s blows without complaining just to talk about her Quest. There were other questions I wanted answered first.
“There's no need to rush it. It’s been almost a decade since you last visited the orphanage; you must have a couple of minutes to spare. To catch up,” I calmly said.
Astrid’s uneasiness only grew. Was it the lack of the Zealot’s mask? During our previous encounters she seemed to be more of the composed type.
“Why did you leave the orphanage? Elincia, Ginz, and Risha needed you,” I asked.
Astrid sighed, accepting this was an obligatory detour before talking about the System.
“The orphanage didn’t need me. Ginz became a Craftsman, and Elincia an Alchemist. You don’t get better crafting Classes than that. Even Risha got a decent combat Class,” Astrid replied, her Zealot composure slowly being washed away. “My presence here didn’t change anything.”
“I’m not accusing you, Astrid, but you could’ve at least relayed Risha’s message. What was it that you couldn’t wait a single day to leave?” I asked.
Astrid gave me a bitter smile. She had three sets of long canines, one longer than the others.
“You don’t have much choice when you become a Zealot,” Astrid said. “Why does it matter, though? Elincia was a talented Alchemist, Ginz was passionate about his craft, and Risha had more strength than what was healthy for him. I wouldn’t make a difference even if I got any other Class.”
For an almighty Zealot, Astrid had quite a low self-esteem.
“Everyone has a choice,” I pointed out.
My words seemed to offend her.
“A Zealot? Choice? You don’t know what you are talking about, Scholar,” Astrid sighed, covering her face with both hands.
Despite her words, I didn’t feel any ill intent against me.
“Our Quests are an itch in the back of our brains—an itch that can’t be scratched unless you accomplish your mission. It’s like ants crawling under your skull.”
Astrid looked at me directly, and I noticed a glint of madness in her yellow eyes. She clenched her fists, and a drop of blood fell on the table. For an instant, I feared she lost control of herself, but ultimately, she regained control.
“And now I’m stuck with an unsolvable Quest, and this sensation inside me urging me to do something to solve the quest,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Zealots eventually learn how to control the discomfort; otherwise, we couldn’t even sleep. At first, however, it is almost unbearable. When I got my Class, the System told me to travel to the capital.”
I nodded in silence. Being a Zealot wasn’t as glamorous as I initially thought; it sounded more like a curse than a blessing.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“What do you mean? The System chose me. My mission is a great honor and a great responsibility,” Astrid replied defensively.
Enslaving the Zealots and convincing them their captor blessed them was cruel yet effective. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Astrid. Even if the people of this world were tied to their Class until their death, they had a certain level of freedom to choose which Class they wanted. Zealots, on the other hand, were pawns forced into obedience.
“I’m still sorry for you. Elincia can choose not to brew potions, but you can’t stop obeying the System. The whole situation seems unfair,” I said. “But that doesn’t excuse you for the problems you caused the orphanage.”
“What do you mean? I have been traveling the continent for almost a decade. How could I have caused problems to the orphanage?”
With Astrid’s piece, the orphanage’s story came together.
“Mister Lowell knew he was sick some time before he died. Mister Byrne offered him treatment, which meant traveling across the Farlands back to Connecticut, maybe permanently. Mister Lowell decided to stay at the orphanage despite knowing he would eventually lose to sickness,” I explained, catching both Elincia and Astrid by surprise.
“How do you know that?” Astrid asked.
“When Mister Lowell died, you four took charge of the orphanage. Things went well for a while, but then money ran short. Elincia was too low of a level to make any real money, Ginz spent more on materials than what he earned, and you were classless. Risha tried to bring money by escorting Alchemists from the Guild and second-class merchants, but it wasn’t enough for the number of orphans living in the manor at the time.”
Astrid shrunk in her seat, knowing what came next.
“Noticing the orphanage was on course for a disaster, Risha confided to you he would enlist. The Royal Army was bolstering its ranks for the Farlands Campaign, and Risha understood that one less mouth and extra income would keep the orphanage afloat. It would help Ginz pay for materials to develop his Class and give Elincia time to improve hers. But before you could tell Elincia about Risha’s plans, you got your Class, and the System dragged you to the capital,” I continued with the story.
“What’s the problem then?” Astrid asked.
“Risha’s money never arrived,” I replied.
“Risha died!?” Astrid jumped from her seat.
I sighed, alleviated. Astrid’s reaction told me everything I needed to know about Risha; the only reason he would’ve stopped helping the orphanage was his death. My trust in Risha seemed well-placed.
“Risha is alive and well. We believe he sent the money, but it was stolen before it reached the orphanage. The lack of communication between the frontlines and the rest of the kingdom helped the thieves scam many soldiers. We only found out about the missing money after the army retreated into the city,” I explained. “Elincia and Ginz believed Risha, and you abandoned the orphanage to its fate. Ginz left shortly after you; he wasn't ready to bear the burden, leaving Elincia alone.”
Astrid was out of words.
“Are you finished?” Elincia grunted.
“No,” I replied, focusing back on Astrid. “Elincia has looked after the orphanage since then, believing you and Risha betrayed her. Have you looked around, Astrid? Do you think the orphanage is in a particularly good spot? You could’ve crawled back to the manor and told Ginz about Risha’s whereabouts. You could’ve left a note.”
“It wasn’t my intention,” Astrid muttered.
“I know,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “The manor is in a better spot, but Elincia had to weather an unforgiving seven-year-long storm alone. I’m not the one who you need to ask for forgiveness. You owe her an apology.”
Elincia let out a dry laugh. “Why do you think I want an apology?”
Even if Elincia didn’t want to admit it, I knew she needed closure. The betrayal of her fellow orphans was still a festering wound in her heart, and no amount of love and affection would heal it. That wound could only be healed by Astrid, Risha, and Ginz.
“Elincia, listen. Someone is trying to harm the orphanage. Someone prompted Holst to poison our crops and tried to take the kids from us. Someone tipped the thieves that I carried the money from the potions. Someone has been trying to subvert the City Guard and kill Captain Kiln,” I said. “Someone is trying to sabotage the orphanage, but that person isn’t Astrid or Risha.”
“Like I care. As far as I am concerned, Astrid and Risha are as guilty as Holst and whoever is pulling the strings,” Elincia left her cold cup of tea on the counter and walked to the door, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
The prospect of a heartfelt reunion slowly slipped through my fingers.
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2024.04.15 23:20 AustralianChrono Chronologica's Drag Race Season 5: Episode 10- Smell Me, Bitch! Lip Sync
DRAG RACE!
Chronologica struts the runway wearing a long Golden Satin robe, with a long headpiece in the same color.
Hello world!
Welcome to Drag Race.
La Marias, our Runner-Up All Star! How’s life treating you?
“Fantastic, Mami.” La Marias looks to the left, then right. “Hmm.”
And hello to my best friend on the drag panel, Floss Michaels.
“Huh?” La Marias looks confused.
“Baby, let’s do it draggy!” Floss cheers.
“Where’s Rachelle, FLOSS!!???” Marias shouts. “What the FUCK did you do to her?!”
Chronologica and Floss chuckles.
For our Challenge, our racers were tasked with creating their own Perfume Brand.
And on the runway, they’ll be wearing their launch party eleganza.
La Marias looks concerned.
It’s TIME!
~
Category is… Perfume Launch Party!
Representing… Biohazard!
Apocalyptica arrives in a post-apocalyptic inspired outfit, with distressed metallic armor spray painted with biohazard symbols. Her skin is painted with a green hue, and red, wild untamed curls to add to the real toxic, wild flair.
“Taste of your lips i’m on a ride.” La Marias winks.
Representing… Midnight Oil.
Ambrose Noir arrives in a black set of motorbike gear, with chains and studs, a motorcycle helmet on his head, which he takes off to reveal long, flowing black hair, a smirk on his face with dark smokey eye makeup.
“Lesbian biker bars. Memories.” Floss smiles.
Representing… Bomba!
Lupe spins onto the stage in a red hot gown covered in sequins and feathers, similar to a flamenco dancer. Her makeup is bright- red lips, smoldering eyes and long, wavy hair that nearly hits the floor. She dances and twirls down the stage like nobody’s business.
“Mami, yes!” La Marias snaps her fingers.
Representing Purple Reign!
In a deep Purple Taffeta look, covered in jewels and Magenta beading, Magenta struts out. She’s giving pure royalty- with a hint of sass, as she usually does, strutting the stage in her effortless flair. She’s got a dark purple pussycat wig, and she’s serving… Purple!
“Ugly.” La Marias whispers to Chronologica.
Representing… Musk!
Jupiter Sterling struts out in a regal and modern take of a Musketeer. A velvet coat in deep burgundy, Jupiter wears a silken vest- his armpit section cut out to an excessive amount. A huge parachute like pants accents his look, with his hair voluminous curls- and a prop rapier in his hand.
Musk… doing Musketeer…
Chronologica grins.
I fucking love it!
Jupiter winks directly at Chronologica.
Representing… CUNT!
“Oop!” Marias laughs.
Severa enters the stage in a bodysuit.
“The usual.” Floss whispers.
Wearing a fierce pair of boots, sharp eyeliner and a short updo, Severa is wearing all black- and looks confident. Severa spins around to the other side of the stage- revealing she has printed the words ‘CUNT’ in red on the back of the bodysuit.
Representing… Faerie Dust!
Nymphe, as per usual, glimmers and shines as she enters the stage in a tulle and sequin gown. The gown sparkles in the light, with a hint of green to work through the white glitter. Her flowing hair is covered in flowers, and she saunters down the stage with a smile.
“Gorgeous.” Floss smiles.
~
Hi Racers.
Let’s discuss.
Starting with… Nymphe.
“First, lucky me.” Nymphe smiles.
This was a really solid concept. You knew what you were doing, and you knew how to deliver it.
“It’s the Nymphe brand.”
“The only thing- you’ve been this sleek, fabulous perfection baby.” Floss smiles. “I love that.”
Nymphe nods.
“I want to see a bit more heart, next week.”
“Ok.”’
Magenta.
“Hey boo.” Magenta grins.
“I think your concept was fine, perhaps humorous to some people with less taste.” La Marias nods. “The thing is…”
Magenta looks at Marias, concerned.
“I hate your look. This taffeta- it’s cheap, and I KNOW the irony of me saying that, but this week, on the runway the girls delivered. And at this point, you gotta deliver, girl.” La Marias shrugs.
“Well, were YOU delivering at this point in your OG season?” Magenta asks.
La Marias looks pissed, before looking at Apocalyptica. “Next!”
“Hi.” Apocalyptica grins.
“I… didn’t love this concept.”
Apocalyptica looks surprised, before nodding. “I get it.”
“It’s fine, and that’s what you were- fine. I love this look, but your performance was fine. It’s like you weren’t going FAR enough, and I wanted more. Is there anything guiding that?”
Nymphe d’Azote: “I expect her to go and say ‘Well, I was suggested an idea that didn’t work for me.’ But…”
“I just didn’t deliver, and that’s okay, there’s next week.” Apocalyptica nods.
Nymphe rolls her eyes in her confessional.
“Okay, thanks.” Marias nods.
Lupe.
“Hola!” Lupe waves.
I’m so proud of you this week.
Lupe grins.
Like, darling- you did it you, you did it your way, and you ate it up!
Lupe cheers.
Of all the products, yours was the one I wanted to buy. It was lovely, and it smelt AMAZING.
“Thank you, so much.” Lupe looks proudly.
Really, really well done.
Severa.
Severa looks over.
“Girl.” Floss looks at Severa.
“What?!”
“Another bodysuit?!” Floss responds.
“It’s my brand!”
“It’s… a bunch of damn words sticked on.” Floss looks annoyed. “This wasn’t it.”
Severa puffs her chest.
“This was 30 seconds of you just being nasty. It wasn’t fun, and I mean- nobody wanted to buy it!” Floss yells. “I certainly wouldn’t.”
“I love a bitch. But you gotta do it smart, you know?” La Marias shrugs. “This wasn’t smart.”
Severa pouts.
Jupiter!
Jupiter sniffs, as the others laugh.
“You twisted motherfucker.” Floss starts.
Jupiter chuckles.
“It’s a gross concept, but babe- it’s so damn you!” Floss chuckles.
“Disgusting, yup.” Jupiter nods.
“That play with gender, the concept, the ideas- it was fabulous.”
“I am so happy to see you at your best.” La Marias smiles. “On Season 3, we were waiting- and we didn’t get it. Clearly, for a reason. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Jupiter grins.
Ambrose.
“Hello.” Ambrose waves.
I was a bit disappointed this week.
“Oh.” Ambrose looks sullen.
I just- I wanted more than what you did this week. It felt a bit… generic?
“Definitely.” Marias nods.
It was unmemorable, and to me, that makes for a poor week. I want you to give more then what you’re giving here. It’s been meh- and I know you can be amazing. So… show it.
Ambrose nods.
Thank you, racers. Whilst we deliberate, you may untuck backstage in the Crystal Lounge, sponsored by Princess Papaya Sour Peanut Drinks.
~
The racers enter untucked.
“Man, am I always going to be chugging?!” Magenta laughs, grabbing her drink.
Magenta Leigh Simmons: “I am not living. Dear LORD.”
Ambrose exhales, grabbing his drink and walking to the mirror.
“Yo, Ambrose.” Jupiter runs over.
“Hey.” Ambrose nods.
“I just- I know, it’s been hard, and I know you’ve been stressed. But man, I don’t want you to give up. I just-” Jupiter sighs.
“Let me stop you.” Ambrose looks up at Jupiter. “I’m not going home.”
Jupiter looks surprised.
“I want this- I want this so bad. I want to prove myself. I want to show what I can do and I know this song. I’ve picked up the Spanish words, and I’m fighting for my life.” Ambrose says to Jupiter.
Ambrose Noir: “Lipsyncing is my best skill. I know how to do it, and I know how to do it well.”
“Go enjoy the drink.” Ambrose looks over. “I’ll be preparing for the battle.”
“..Fabulous!” Jupiter chuckles, walking over into the seats.
“How do we all feel today?” Apocalyptica smiles.
“I’m quite happy.” Nymphe looks at Apocalyptica. “I have a question for you though, Popsicle.”
Lupe looks at Nymphe, then Apocalyptica, who giggles, then smiles. “Oh, sure.”
“Do you think you’re being inauthentic here? Because you spoke very clearly about this challenge being important to you, and then changed it at the drop of a hat.” Nymphe sips her drink.
“Jesus.” Jupiter sinks into his seat.
“I mean- I don’t think I did.” Apocalyptica looks around, confused. “I just- it was really hard to do so, and it hurt me to change…” Tears begin to flow under Apocalyptica’s eyes.
“Now, this was just a question…” Nymphe responds.
“Like, it obviously was hard! It hurt- it hurt to change it, but I had to, but clearly that did affect me, because I got middle of the road critiques!” Apocalyptica frowns. “I- I-”
“It’s okay, babe.” Lupe walks over, handing Apocalyptica a tissue.
As Apocalyptica receives the tissue from Lupe, the atmosphere in the room shifts.
There's a clear tension as the other monarchs exchange glances, some with raised eyebrows, others with expressions of concern.
Nymphe clears her throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Look, I'm not trying to attack you, Apocalyptica. But authenticity is important in this competition. We're all here putting ourselves out there, being vulnerable, and if someone isn't being genuine, it affects the dynamic. I am not masking here. I’m just being me- and maybe sometimes I do, unintentionally- but I think there’s intentionality here.."
Severa chimes in. "Yeah, and changing your concept last minute? That's not just a little tweak, honey. It's like you're trying to play the sympathy card now. And bitch, you’re not even in the bottom, so CALM down.”
Lupe looks at Severa. “Go learn your words. No need to be nasty.”
Severa rolls her eyes, stomping off.
"That's not it at all! I swear, I just... I thought I could handle it, but when it came down to it, I panicked. I didn't want to let anyone down- especially Chronologica.” Apocalyptica frowns.
"But you let yourself down by not staying true to what you wanted to present, girl." Magenta adds, her tone softer but firm.
Apocalyptica sniffles, nodding. "I see that now. I just got caught up in the pressure, you know?"
“Well, you want to win this competition, right?” Jupiter smiles. “We all do. It’s important to us, so you listened to the feedback, and made a change.”
"I mean, True, but there's a fine line between adapting to feedback and compromising your integrity." Nymphe interjects gently. "We're all pushing ourselves to excel here, but if we sacrifice our authenticity in the process, then what's the point? Are you just here to win?”
“I’m not here to win.” Apocalyptica says.
Everyone’s eyes bulge.
Magenta Leigh Simmons: “HUH?!”
“Like.. it would be nice, to pay those medical school bills, but if I get to show alt drag, have fun and learn, I’m happy with that.” Apocalyptica smiles. “I came to show alt drag and be myself, and I feel disappointed to change my concept and take away from what I have to do here. Which is to showcase alt drag… not necessarily win.”
“Okay, so she’s denying she’s even here to win now. Ok.” Nymphe whispers under her breath.
Lupe smiles, speaking up. "Well, regardless of why we're all here, let's remember we're a family, sí? We support each other through thick and thin."
Severa looks over, rolling her eyes.
Jupiter nods in agreement. "Absolutely. We're all in this together, whether we're aiming for the crown or not."
Apocalyptica smiles.
Nymphe glares directly at the camera.
Jupiter Sterling: “Do I think she’s lying?”
Apocalytpica exhales. “Ugh, I just want a hug.”
Jupiter Sterling: “1000%.”
Severa looks at the mirror, practicing her words. “I mean, I don’t need to prepare.”
Severa: “I don’t really feel like I am part of this familia.” Severa says sarcastically. “I’m not holding hands. But I do know this- I am a natural PERFORMER.” Severa looks determined. “I’m giving this lip sync everything.”
Severa starts stretching.
~
Welcome back, racers. I’ve made some decisions.
Apocalyptica, you’re safe.
Apocalyptica nods.
…
Nymphe, this week, you glittered.
You’re safe.
Nymphe smiles.
Lupe, Mami, you’ve shown us- you can do more than even you bargained for.
Lupe grins.
Jupiter, this week, we were sniffing. WOOF.
Jupiter, condragulations, you’re the winner of this week’s challenge.
“Oh, hell yes!” Jupiter cheers.
Lupe, well done, you’re safe
Lupe LaBelleza: “Oh, this is.. This is nice. I feel satisfied. To keep on thriving!” Lupe raises a glass.
…
Ambrose Noir, this week, we didn’t enjoy your Midnight Oil.
I’m sorry my dear, you’re up for elimination.
Ambrose nods.
Severa, this week, you didn’t give us- CUNT, surprisingly enough.
Magenta, darling… This runway look was middle of the road, and we’re needing MORE.
…
…
Magenta, you’re safe.
“Oooh.” Magenta exhales. “Thank you, thank you…”
That means Severa and Ambrosie Noir, I’m sorry my dears, but you are up for elimination.
The time has come… for you to lip sync to your life!
**Genie in A Bottle… in Spanish Starts to play**
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsYg48vuOTo
Good luck… and don’t fuck it up!
Severa: “I’ve beaten Ambrose before. I’m doing it again. I am giving Xtina, baby. This is my song. It’s goddamn SPANISH!”
Ambrose Noir: “The odds are stacked against me, objectively. But I know what I am capable of. I’m a goddamn assassin.”
~
Next Time!
Racers, for this week’s challenge, you’re designing a look… for your EVIL TWIN!
“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Magenta screeches, ripping her dress in half.
“Wait…” Jupiter looks over at Nymphe, gasping.
“What?” Nymphe asks.
“Why does Apocalyptica’s evil twin… look like you?” Jupiter whispers.
~
Reminder re AUDITIONS!
These auditions will be open until the Season 5 Finale. Are you wanting to be a part of next Season’s Drag Story?
AUDITION!
Stats
Voting
Spreadsheet
~
VDR Update:
Eking Ekong and Lily Osaka BOTH win the lip sync, eliminating Donna Bummer AND Megan Glory. A double elimination!
Voting
Spreadsheet
submitted by AustralianChrono to ChronologicasDragRace [link] [comments]
Chronologica struts the runway wearing a long Golden Satin robe, with a long headpiece in the same color.
Hello world!
Welcome to Drag Race.
La Marias, our Runner-Up All Star! How’s life treating you?
“Fantastic, Mami.” La Marias looks to the left, then right. “Hmm.”
And hello to my best friend on the drag panel, Floss Michaels.
“Huh?” La Marias looks confused.
“Baby, let’s do it draggy!” Floss cheers.
“Where’s Rachelle, FLOSS!!???” Marias shouts. “What the FUCK did you do to her?!”
Chronologica and Floss chuckles.
For our Challenge, our racers were tasked with creating their own Perfume Brand.
And on the runway, they’ll be wearing their launch party eleganza.
La Marias looks concerned.
It’s TIME!
~
Category is… Perfume Launch Party!
Representing… Biohazard!
Apocalyptica arrives in a post-apocalyptic inspired outfit, with distressed metallic armor spray painted with biohazard symbols. Her skin is painted with a green hue, and red, wild untamed curls to add to the real toxic, wild flair.
“Taste of your lips i’m on a ride.” La Marias winks.
Representing… Midnight Oil.
Ambrose Noir arrives in a black set of motorbike gear, with chains and studs, a motorcycle helmet on his head, which he takes off to reveal long, flowing black hair, a smirk on his face with dark smokey eye makeup.
“Lesbian biker bars. Memories.” Floss smiles.
Representing… Bomba!
Lupe spins onto the stage in a red hot gown covered in sequins and feathers, similar to a flamenco dancer. Her makeup is bright- red lips, smoldering eyes and long, wavy hair that nearly hits the floor. She dances and twirls down the stage like nobody’s business.
“Mami, yes!” La Marias snaps her fingers.
Representing Purple Reign!
In a deep Purple Taffeta look, covered in jewels and Magenta beading, Magenta struts out. She’s giving pure royalty- with a hint of sass, as she usually does, strutting the stage in her effortless flair. She’s got a dark purple pussycat wig, and she’s serving… Purple!
“Ugly.” La Marias whispers to Chronologica.
Representing… Musk!
Jupiter Sterling struts out in a regal and modern take of a Musketeer. A velvet coat in deep burgundy, Jupiter wears a silken vest- his armpit section cut out to an excessive amount. A huge parachute like pants accents his look, with his hair voluminous curls- and a prop rapier in his hand.
Musk… doing Musketeer…
Chronologica grins.
I fucking love it!
Jupiter winks directly at Chronologica.
Representing… CUNT!
“Oop!” Marias laughs.
Severa enters the stage in a bodysuit.
“The usual.” Floss whispers.
Wearing a fierce pair of boots, sharp eyeliner and a short updo, Severa is wearing all black- and looks confident. Severa spins around to the other side of the stage- revealing she has printed the words ‘CUNT’ in red on the back of the bodysuit.
Representing… Faerie Dust!
Nymphe, as per usual, glimmers and shines as she enters the stage in a tulle and sequin gown. The gown sparkles in the light, with a hint of green to work through the white glitter. Her flowing hair is covered in flowers, and she saunters down the stage with a smile.
“Gorgeous.” Floss smiles.
~
Hi Racers.
Let’s discuss.
Starting with… Nymphe.
“First, lucky me.” Nymphe smiles.
This was a really solid concept. You knew what you were doing, and you knew how to deliver it.
“It’s the Nymphe brand.”
“The only thing- you’ve been this sleek, fabulous perfection baby.” Floss smiles. “I love that.”
Nymphe nods.
“I want to see a bit more heart, next week.”
“Ok.”’
Magenta.
“Hey boo.” Magenta grins.
“I think your concept was fine, perhaps humorous to some people with less taste.” La Marias nods. “The thing is…”
Magenta looks at Marias, concerned.
“I hate your look. This taffeta- it’s cheap, and I KNOW the irony of me saying that, but this week, on the runway the girls delivered. And at this point, you gotta deliver, girl.” La Marias shrugs.
“Well, were YOU delivering at this point in your OG season?” Magenta asks.
La Marias looks pissed, before looking at Apocalyptica. “Next!”
“Hi.” Apocalyptica grins.
“I… didn’t love this concept.”
Apocalyptica looks surprised, before nodding. “I get it.”
“It’s fine, and that’s what you were- fine. I love this look, but your performance was fine. It’s like you weren’t going FAR enough, and I wanted more. Is there anything guiding that?”
Nymphe d’Azote: “I expect her to go and say ‘Well, I was suggested an idea that didn’t work for me.’ But…”
“I just didn’t deliver, and that’s okay, there’s next week.” Apocalyptica nods.
Nymphe rolls her eyes in her confessional.
“Okay, thanks.” Marias nods.
Lupe.
“Hola!” Lupe waves.
I’m so proud of you this week.
Lupe grins.
Like, darling- you did it you, you did it your way, and you ate it up!
Lupe cheers.
Of all the products, yours was the one I wanted to buy. It was lovely, and it smelt AMAZING.
“Thank you, so much.” Lupe looks proudly.
Really, really well done.
Severa.
Severa looks over.
“Girl.” Floss looks at Severa.
“What?!”
“Another bodysuit?!” Floss responds.
“It’s my brand!”
“It’s… a bunch of damn words sticked on.” Floss looks annoyed. “This wasn’t it.”
Severa puffs her chest.
“This was 30 seconds of you just being nasty. It wasn’t fun, and I mean- nobody wanted to buy it!” Floss yells. “I certainly wouldn’t.”
“I love a bitch. But you gotta do it smart, you know?” La Marias shrugs. “This wasn’t smart.”
Severa pouts.
Jupiter!
Jupiter sniffs, as the others laugh.
“You twisted motherfucker.” Floss starts.
Jupiter chuckles.
“It’s a gross concept, but babe- it’s so damn you!” Floss chuckles.
“Disgusting, yup.” Jupiter nods.
“That play with gender, the concept, the ideas- it was fabulous.”
“I am so happy to see you at your best.” La Marias smiles. “On Season 3, we were waiting- and we didn’t get it. Clearly, for a reason. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Jupiter grins.
Ambrose.
“Hello.” Ambrose waves.
I was a bit disappointed this week.
“Oh.” Ambrose looks sullen.
I just- I wanted more than what you did this week. It felt a bit… generic?
“Definitely.” Marias nods.
It was unmemorable, and to me, that makes for a poor week. I want you to give more then what you’re giving here. It’s been meh- and I know you can be amazing. So… show it.
Ambrose nods.
Thank you, racers. Whilst we deliberate, you may untuck backstage in the Crystal Lounge, sponsored by Princess Papaya Sour Peanut Drinks.
~
The racers enter untucked.
“Man, am I always going to be chugging?!” Magenta laughs, grabbing her drink.
Magenta Leigh Simmons: “I am not living. Dear LORD.”
Ambrose exhales, grabbing his drink and walking to the mirror.
“Yo, Ambrose.” Jupiter runs over.
“Hey.” Ambrose nods.
“I just- I know, it’s been hard, and I know you’ve been stressed. But man, I don’t want you to give up. I just-” Jupiter sighs.
“Let me stop you.” Ambrose looks up at Jupiter. “I’m not going home.”
Jupiter looks surprised.
“I want this- I want this so bad. I want to prove myself. I want to show what I can do and I know this song. I’ve picked up the Spanish words, and I’m fighting for my life.” Ambrose says to Jupiter.
Ambrose Noir: “Lipsyncing is my best skill. I know how to do it, and I know how to do it well.”
“Go enjoy the drink.” Ambrose looks over. “I’ll be preparing for the battle.”
“..Fabulous!” Jupiter chuckles, walking over into the seats.
“How do we all feel today?” Apocalyptica smiles.
“I’m quite happy.” Nymphe looks at Apocalyptica. “I have a question for you though, Popsicle.”
Lupe looks at Nymphe, then Apocalyptica, who giggles, then smiles. “Oh, sure.”
“Do you think you’re being inauthentic here? Because you spoke very clearly about this challenge being important to you, and then changed it at the drop of a hat.” Nymphe sips her drink.
“Jesus.” Jupiter sinks into his seat.
“I mean- I don’t think I did.” Apocalyptica looks around, confused. “I just- it was really hard to do so, and it hurt me to change…” Tears begin to flow under Apocalyptica’s eyes.
“Now, this was just a question…” Nymphe responds.
“Like, it obviously was hard! It hurt- it hurt to change it, but I had to, but clearly that did affect me, because I got middle of the road critiques!” Apocalyptica frowns. “I- I-”
“It’s okay, babe.” Lupe walks over, handing Apocalyptica a tissue.
As Apocalyptica receives the tissue from Lupe, the atmosphere in the room shifts.
There's a clear tension as the other monarchs exchange glances, some with raised eyebrows, others with expressions of concern.
Nymphe clears her throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Look, I'm not trying to attack you, Apocalyptica. But authenticity is important in this competition. We're all here putting ourselves out there, being vulnerable, and if someone isn't being genuine, it affects the dynamic. I am not masking here. I’m just being me- and maybe sometimes I do, unintentionally- but I think there’s intentionality here.."
Severa chimes in. "Yeah, and changing your concept last minute? That's not just a little tweak, honey. It's like you're trying to play the sympathy card now. And bitch, you’re not even in the bottom, so CALM down.”
Lupe looks at Severa. “Go learn your words. No need to be nasty.”
Severa rolls her eyes, stomping off.
"That's not it at all! I swear, I just... I thought I could handle it, but when it came down to it, I panicked. I didn't want to let anyone down- especially Chronologica.” Apocalyptica frowns.
"But you let yourself down by not staying true to what you wanted to present, girl." Magenta adds, her tone softer but firm.
Apocalyptica sniffles, nodding. "I see that now. I just got caught up in the pressure, you know?"
“Well, you want to win this competition, right?” Jupiter smiles. “We all do. It’s important to us, so you listened to the feedback, and made a change.”
"I mean, True, but there's a fine line between adapting to feedback and compromising your integrity." Nymphe interjects gently. "We're all pushing ourselves to excel here, but if we sacrifice our authenticity in the process, then what's the point? Are you just here to win?”
“I’m not here to win.” Apocalyptica says.
Everyone’s eyes bulge.
Magenta Leigh Simmons: “HUH?!”
“Like.. it would be nice, to pay those medical school bills, but if I get to show alt drag, have fun and learn, I’m happy with that.” Apocalyptica smiles. “I came to show alt drag and be myself, and I feel disappointed to change my concept and take away from what I have to do here. Which is to showcase alt drag… not necessarily win.”
“Okay, so she’s denying she’s even here to win now. Ok.” Nymphe whispers under her breath.
Lupe smiles, speaking up. "Well, regardless of why we're all here, let's remember we're a family, sí? We support each other through thick and thin."
Severa looks over, rolling her eyes.
Jupiter nods in agreement. "Absolutely. We're all in this together, whether we're aiming for the crown or not."
Apocalyptica smiles.
Nymphe glares directly at the camera.
Jupiter Sterling: “Do I think she’s lying?”
Apocalytpica exhales. “Ugh, I just want a hug.”
Jupiter Sterling: “1000%.”
Severa looks at the mirror, practicing her words. “I mean, I don’t need to prepare.”
Severa: “I don’t really feel like I am part of this familia.” Severa says sarcastically. “I’m not holding hands. But I do know this- I am a natural PERFORMER.” Severa looks determined. “I’m giving this lip sync everything.”
Severa starts stretching.
~
Welcome back, racers. I’ve made some decisions.
Apocalyptica, you’re safe.
Apocalyptica nods.
…
Nymphe, this week, you glittered.
You’re safe.
Nymphe smiles.
Lupe, Mami, you’ve shown us- you can do more than even you bargained for.
Lupe grins.
Jupiter, this week, we were sniffing. WOOF.
Jupiter, condragulations, you’re the winner of this week’s challenge.
“Oh, hell yes!” Jupiter cheers.
Lupe, well done, you’re safe
Lupe LaBelleza: “Oh, this is.. This is nice. I feel satisfied. To keep on thriving!” Lupe raises a glass.
…
Ambrose Noir, this week, we didn’t enjoy your Midnight Oil.
I’m sorry my dear, you’re up for elimination.
Ambrose nods.
Severa, this week, you didn’t give us- CUNT, surprisingly enough.
Magenta, darling… This runway look was middle of the road, and we’re needing MORE.
…
…
Magenta, you’re safe.
“Oooh.” Magenta exhales. “Thank you, thank you…”
That means Severa and Ambrosie Noir, I’m sorry my dears, but you are up for elimination.
The time has come… for you to lip sync to your life!
**Genie in A Bottle… in Spanish Starts to play**
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsYg48vuOTo
Good luck… and don’t fuck it up!
Severa: “I’ve beaten Ambrose before. I’m doing it again. I am giving Xtina, baby. This is my song. It’s goddamn SPANISH!”
Ambrose Noir: “The odds are stacked against me, objectively. But I know what I am capable of. I’m a goddamn assassin.”
~
Next Time!
Racers, for this week’s challenge, you’re designing a look… for your EVIL TWIN!
“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Magenta screeches, ripping her dress in half.
“Wait…” Jupiter looks over at Nymphe, gasping.
“What?” Nymphe asks.
“Why does Apocalyptica’s evil twin… look like you?” Jupiter whispers.
~
Reminder re AUDITIONS!
These auditions will be open until the Season 5 Finale. Are you wanting to be a part of next Season’s Drag Story?
AUDITION!
Stats
Voting
Spreadsheet
~
VDR Update:
Eking Ekong and Lily Osaka BOTH win the lip sync, eliminating Donna Bummer AND Megan Glory. A double elimination!
Voting
Spreadsheet
2024.04.01 20:03 LunaFalls Have lupus SLE, but I don't think this is lupus anymore and I'm scared. Burning, tight, shiny rash that looks like stretch marks started randomly in my armpits a few months ago, then inner thighs, occasionally hips, back, stomach too. Red racoon eyes began first, last spring .
Age 32 Sex Female
Height 5ft2in
Weight 118
Race Hispanic and white
Duration of complaint
These Symptoms began sbout 15 months ago . That's the first time I started getting the red eye rash. The armpits and thighs had their first rash maybe 5-6 months ago, and the insane neck rash started in December and took over a month to clear.
I noticed my hair stands were all wrong and honestly deformed in July. Everyone gets the occasional crazy hair that's unusually thick and/or varies in thickness though the strand, but suddenly it was like my head was 30% those types of hairs (i would find one or two per year before, but over the summer it was just insane. I lost tons of hair and have lost hair before due to lupus so I know what my hair strands feel like. This is unprecedented for me.)
I have had biopsies done on my head before because I get the worst sores on my scalp with flares, so at first I chalked it up to the hair being damaged from the 4 biopsies and growing in. But it's not just in those 4 little areas
Since December I've lost way too much hair and have bald spots that i can't even hide. I wear hats and beanies and a mini wig if I am going out .
Nails on hands and feet have gotten eeird and thick grooved, pitted, as well as skin on hands and feet it's just incredibly messed up , too. Thick, hard skin fingertips and toe tiñs just crack open and those cracks just DO NOT heal like other wounds. They take months to close up despite constant aquaphore and lotions and oils, hydrocolloid bandages, etc. Then with zero cause the just open up again a week or two later.
Raynaud's also the worst is ever been, starting in August
Location Denver, CO USA
Any existing relevant medical issues
Lupus SLE, diagnosed since 2018 but started around 15 years old with joints. Diagnosis came after I had my first baby and lupus started to attack my kidneys in earnest.
I also became allergic to Arizona, which is where I grew up, but I never had traditional allergy symptoms so I thought my doctor was mixing up my results at 18. As time went on, though, my body started reacting and skipping over the sniffles and going straight to anaphylactic reactions. Blood and skin tests repeated over 10 years all concurred that I am allergic to 29 trees, bushes, plants, etc, which are native to the Sonoran desert. 14 of those were the most severe rating . Moved to Denver this past June for this reason, and only like 3 things on my list even live in Colorado, and one is a soil mold which should die in winter at least, one is a pigweed, and another is a grass that I haven't really seen much here. I was able to drop all 5 allergy meds, inhaler, and Prednisone over night once I left Phoenix. It was amazing for like a month before these new things started, but at least my throat isn't closing on me anymore. The red eyes started the last 6 months in Arizona and increased in frequency before we moved, but I was so sure it was from the allergies. IDK anymore
I was really low on Vitamin D in May, at 11.4 and supposed to be closer to 40 iirc. Started supplementing.
Current medications
Plaquenil 200mg
Lisinopril 10mg
Vitamin D 5000 ui
Magnesium
Adderall 20mg
Saphnelo- Ireceived my first Saphnelo infusion last month, going again in a week, and it has done wonders for my other symptoms like joint swelling/pain and energy levels but now the skin stuff is doing me in again.
Include a photo if relevant
All photos are from the last 6 months, except a couple labeled from Arizona in May and June when the red eye thing started happening for the first time, seemingly at random. Random lumps form under my skin and move around until a sore forms . Face will be very swollen at times, with pitting edema . The rash on my neck showed up in December on one side then migrated to the front too. It HURT and felt like the worst sunburn, and itched like crazy for a month. Tried 2 different antibiotics and steroids and nothing worked. My Doctor assumed lupus related and was able to call the rheumatologist I was waiting to see and have them move my appointment sooner. Labs showed ANA was high this time (in January), and it hadn't been positive in years (since 2018). Armpit/hips/thighs line rash just burns like my skin is too tight and if I move suddenly my skin will crack open. I moisturize like crazy to try to prevent it now but it still occurs. It goes away completely within a few days to a week, only to Begin again but worse the next time. The skin feels almost velvety? It's too shiny and weirdly very very smooth before the red raised lines appear.
We all thought this was lupus but it has had me very uneasy. I received my first Saphnelo infusion last month, going again in a week, and it has done wonders for my other symptoms like joint swelling/pain and energy levels but now the skin stuff is doing me in again. At least I don't have to wake up to agonizing, unusable fingers and hands every morning anymore! But now I need to fix whatever this is because it's severely impacting everything else.
submitted by LunaFalls to DiagnoseMe [link] [comments]
Height 5ft2in
Weight 118
Race Hispanic and white
Duration of complaint
These Symptoms began sbout 15 months ago . That's the first time I started getting the red eye rash. The armpits and thighs had their first rash maybe 5-6 months ago, and the insane neck rash started in December and took over a month to clear.
I noticed my hair stands were all wrong and honestly deformed in July. Everyone gets the occasional crazy hair that's unusually thick and/or varies in thickness though the strand, but suddenly it was like my head was 30% those types of hairs (i would find one or two per year before, but over the summer it was just insane. I lost tons of hair and have lost hair before due to lupus so I know what my hair strands feel like. This is unprecedented for me.)
I have had biopsies done on my head before because I get the worst sores on my scalp with flares, so at first I chalked it up to the hair being damaged from the 4 biopsies and growing in. But it's not just in those 4 little areas
Since December I've lost way too much hair and have bald spots that i can't even hide. I wear hats and beanies and a mini wig if I am going out .
Nails on hands and feet have gotten eeird and thick grooved, pitted, as well as skin on hands and feet it's just incredibly messed up , too. Thick, hard skin fingertips and toe tiñs just crack open and those cracks just DO NOT heal like other wounds. They take months to close up despite constant aquaphore and lotions and oils, hydrocolloid bandages, etc. Then with zero cause the just open up again a week or two later.
Raynaud's also the worst is ever been, starting in August
Location Denver, CO USA
Any existing relevant medical issues
Lupus SLE, diagnosed since 2018 but started around 15 years old with joints. Diagnosis came after I had my first baby and lupus started to attack my kidneys in earnest.
I also became allergic to Arizona, which is where I grew up, but I never had traditional allergy symptoms so I thought my doctor was mixing up my results at 18. As time went on, though, my body started reacting and skipping over the sniffles and going straight to anaphylactic reactions. Blood and skin tests repeated over 10 years all concurred that I am allergic to 29 trees, bushes, plants, etc, which are native to the Sonoran desert. 14 of those were the most severe rating . Moved to Denver this past June for this reason, and only like 3 things on my list even live in Colorado, and one is a soil mold which should die in winter at least, one is a pigweed, and another is a grass that I haven't really seen much here. I was able to drop all 5 allergy meds, inhaler, and Prednisone over night once I left Phoenix. It was amazing for like a month before these new things started, but at least my throat isn't closing on me anymore. The red eyes started the last 6 months in Arizona and increased in frequency before we moved, but I was so sure it was from the allergies. IDK anymore
I was really low on Vitamin D in May, at 11.4 and supposed to be closer to 40 iirc. Started supplementing.
Current medications
Plaquenil 200mg
Lisinopril 10mg
Vitamin D 5000 ui
Magnesium
Adderall 20mg
Saphnelo- Ireceived my first Saphnelo infusion last month, going again in a week, and it has done wonders for my other symptoms like joint swelling/pain and energy levels but now the skin stuff is doing me in again.
Include a photo if relevant
All photos are from the last 6 months, except a couple labeled from Arizona in May and June when the red eye thing started happening for the first time, seemingly at random. Random lumps form under my skin and move around until a sore forms . Face will be very swollen at times, with pitting edema . The rash on my neck showed up in December on one side then migrated to the front too. It HURT and felt like the worst sunburn, and itched like crazy for a month. Tried 2 different antibiotics and steroids and nothing worked. My Doctor assumed lupus related and was able to call the rheumatologist I was waiting to see and have them move my appointment sooner. Labs showed ANA was high this time (in January), and it hadn't been positive in years (since 2018). Armpit/hips/thighs line rash just burns like my skin is too tight and if I move suddenly my skin will crack open. I moisturize like crazy to try to prevent it now but it still occurs. It goes away completely within a few days to a week, only to Begin again but worse the next time. The skin feels almost velvety? It's too shiny and weirdly very very smooth before the red raised lines appear.
We all thought this was lupus but it has had me very uneasy. I received my first Saphnelo infusion last month, going again in a week, and it has done wonders for my other symptoms like joint swelling/pain and energy levels but now the skin stuff is doing me in again. At least I don't have to wake up to agonizing, unusable fingers and hands every morning anymore! But now I need to fix whatever this is because it's severely impacting everything else.
2024.03.30 04:21 Possible-Solid3887 MALL WORLD IS NOT GOOD **WARNING**
 | Warning, this post will be lengthy. Just want to get this off my chest. I am not trying to scare or fearmonger. Everyone must know the truth. To begin, i do not know when exactly my Mall World dreams started. But i am going to start with this dream, as this is when i started researching in what was going on… So, one night, this was during the summer 2023. I had felt very strange and scary energies this night. I was crying for some unknown reason. I am psychic and i see, feel, hear, and smell energies very easily, ever since I was a kid. I went to sleep after a blunt ( i needed something to calm me down lol.) I remember waking up in a weird room. I was laying on a steel bed NAKED. I felt paralyzed from the neck down. It was the brightest light ever, right infront of my face. Like at the dentist. So i couldnt see alot, but i could see. I also felt like i was drugged out. It was someone on the right side of me, holding my right arm down. Then someone on the left side of me, but they were holding my left arm up. (I have HS, so i have a benign cyst on each of my armpits.)I saw and felt the person squeezing their fingers on my cyst softly. As i started to realize what was happening, i somehow started to have partial control of my left arm and started hitting TF out of the person or thing lol. I dont play, so i was angry as to why i was naked?? Obviously i didn’t have the strength i would have if i wasn’t drugged out, but i felt like i scared them. Like i wasn’t suppose to wake up, or be able to do that. But when i woke up, i was terrified for WEEKS. I was scared they were gonna take me again. I felt so vulnerable, like someone SA me. Idk i was scared and i didnt know why. I couldnt sleep for weeks after this. Cried for nights. Couldnt talk about this to anyone really, i knew no one would believe me. Im psychic so im use to stuff like this. But this was different, it was just too real and i felt really uneasy about it, but I couldn’t figure out why. So I researched. I ended up with the conclusion it was an alien abduction. They took my eggs for research, or something. Been freaked out ever since about it. But kinda moved on with my life about it. submitted by Possible-Solid3887 to TheMallWorld [link] [comments] Then, i started having dreams of going to this other world or dimension. I remember I started by alwaysss being in the theater. It was HUGE. Like an opera house. It would be alot of people in the stands. We would just sit there though. I don’t remember what everyone was doing, but nothing would play. So i didn’t think it was a movie theater. Looked like a stage to me. I would always just sit there. Blurry what went on though. Then i started having dreams of going to a town. Everything was colorful. It was a mixture of different time periods. I remember seeing a gas station that looked like it was from the 60’s. I would see people I’ve never met, i’d also see people i haven’t seen for YEARS. Then slowly i started having dreams at a mall. I remember it felt like i was a kid for some reason, i was with my family or my dad. Can’t remember. The mall had windows at the top, so i saw a clear and blue sky. The mall was HUGE. Had hella levels. I think there were escalators but they were interchangeable and kept moving and adjusting. Just like Hogwarts’s stairs in Harry Potter. The mall was futuristic, mixed in with early 2000s. But the food court was like 70s/80s. Ive been there by myself, with my dad, and my bf i think. Idk if im this age or my younger self. Ive been having sum more of my age now a days though. I remember the boat dock, seeing a cute suburban neighborhood. Been to the library, it gave dark renaissance. Been to the water park plenty of times, seen people ive known in the real world there. Been to the amusement park with my family. I remember a cave ride that was SCARY. I think i got stuck on the ride or something. Ive been shopping at the mall. I went to a clothing store that sold risqué clothing, but it was a cute store. Didnt buy anything though. Went to a futuristic makeup store, i think i bought something. It was busy there. But I remember going back, i think to return something. But it was closed, and it was dark. Kinda looked creepy. I also work there. It resembles my job in the real world, but different. The people i work with in the real world, work there. But its a retail store that is made of red bricks, and it has an opening at the store front, not front doors. I think its apart of the mall. I remember eating at the food court on lunch. I think i saw a fountain in the middle of the food court. I remember going to the schools, looked like my Highschool but different. I think I remember the locker room showers. I definitely remember always running through the stairs chaotically, trying to find my class. Then i always end up late or unable to track time. Ive been to the college dorms too, very futuristic. X-men like. I don’t remember what we learn at these schools though. All in all, Ive had ALOT of dreams of being at this Mall World for the past year. I found this reddit thread through an Instagram comment. Read about this Mall World for hours, as i am SHOCKED and AMAZED at how much everyone knows my dream lmao. Even down to the AI images. Too many people are having the same dreams, so i believed this was deeper than a “dream.” I believe in collective energy/ consciousness, but i felt it was deeper than that. So I’ve been CONSTANTLY researching this topic for days and then…i came across Donald Marshall. This is the more so “scary part,”like i said i am NOT trying to scare you. FEAR IS NOT REAL. Remember that. So if you don’t know about Donald Marshall and his story, i would advise you to do your own research, as it is alot of information within this story. You can find alot about Donald Marshall on reddit and there are alot of links on there too. https://m.facebook.com/nt/screen/?params=%7B%22note_id%22%3A10164350484445052%7D&path=%2Fnotes%2Fnote%2F <<< heres one link of a more thorough introduction summary of his story. So basically what i’ve read about him is that when he goes to sleep, and goes into his R.E.M stage. His astral body is taken by the higher elites/ shadow gov. And then put his consciousness into a clone of him, in a cloning facility, and these elites do all types of wild/evil stuff to him. He said They’ve been doing this to him since he was a kid, but they are able to wipe out your memory after. But they started allowing him to remember these horrible situations when he was 30. He said thousands or even MILLIONS of regular people are cloned and have this happen to them as well. They just don’t remember because of the memory wipe. He said there is a stadium, where its thousands of people, in their clone bodies. Watching other people and even him, get abused, raped, even MURDERED on the stage. And their clone bodies just sit there…in the stands drugged out watching these demonic rituals. He said the clone bodies are stored and put on STEEL BEDS when the person wakes back up in the real world. He says when these disgusting elites do these horrible things to you, they have the technology to MK ultra your brain and make you visualize what they want you to see. So you can be in mall world, shopping, having fun, etc. but whole time, you’re really getting SA by a fat ugly senator. I believe this is what is REALLY happening. Donald said the government has been doing this to people since I think after world war 2. So its been a VERY long time of them doing this. And the US gov. Isnt just in on this, other worldly governments are too. As well as religious leaders. Basically all the people in power, as well as celebs. As ive been researching, putting the correlations and patterns together. I really believe Mall World is just a stand by or waiting room, while you’re astral consciousness is in a clone, and is getting horrendous and horrible things done to it. He said all though your memory gets wiped and you usually don’t remember it. There are still after affects like on your heart, it can cause depression, suicidal thoughts, etc. Everything he said is what i experienced. The theater part just stuck so much out to me.. Probably because I remember being there alot. And also the steel beds. And when Donald said thats where all the public rituals are, at the theater, it just clicked and terrifyingly just made sense. What really confirmed this to me, is the last dream i wrote down, that was apart of Mall World. I write down almost all my dreams and then forget about them. Then read them over later, like a book lol. My last dream log is in the picture above^ So after I’ve read alot about the claims from Donald Marshall, I remembered this. And everything clicked! Im not gonna lie, I remember this dream and i think I remember queen elizabeth there, hosting the rituals and introduction to the society!!! Its faint but I REMEMBER like royal people there, at the table by her side. The scenery and places was very classy and royal like. But it felt like mall world? This scared me!!! Bad. Im kinda confused with life now, knowing this information. Im into astrology, and based on my birth chart. It says i have the gift of knowing the dark secrets of the world. It wasn’t wrong for sure…i feel like i know too much at this point. I know a lot, but most wouldn’t believe me but i try to voice the illusions of the world as much as i can. I say all this to say that, EVERYONE that is having these mall world dreams. WAKE UP!! Its an MK ultra FALSE reality. Like a VR game. Think of the movie MATRIX! When they woke up and their bodies were in the pods! And aliens were sucking and harvesting the life out of the people in the pods while they were ALSEEP, thinking they were in the real world. Its basically the Matrix but backwards and their sucking your energy through your clone body. Another movie like this is US…the tethered people and their clones!! They put the truth in these movies y’all. Just gotta put the pieces together. I don’t know if anyone has heard from Donald in the last years, i don’t know if he’s alive. Ive read his blog,it seemed like he wasn’t into God and kind of lost faith in solving this problem…which understandable based on what he has endured.. but Im extremely spiritual…i have a STRONG spiritual team i work with… i practice Hoodoo…ik alot of people don’t t agree with these practices but i feel like that is what has been protecting me throughout this journey… especially when they were attacking me with their black magic. I was able to fight back with the powers of Ancestral gifts.. i think thats the key..you have to believe and have faith. Believe you have powers (enough though you do.) and have a strong relationship with SPIRIT. Donald said these elites HATE arab/ muslims and black people. I am half black and half indigenous. I think they dont like people like me because we are able to tap into that power easier. We have the power to fight back. Thats why they put out the vaccine. To change our DNA so we would deplete our power. While the 400 year curse on black people is LIFTED during 2020… Thts why i didnt get tht ish!! i am not trying to make this a racial thing..i am just speaking from my experience and why i was able to see past the veil, be able to fight back, and be able to attract the answers i needed…idk why they are allowing me to remember.. im kinda confused on what to do. But i know i am protected by SOURCE and that fear is something these elites created. I am PROTECTED and a reflection of SOURCE. So they will NEVER have my soul. Only GOD owns it. So no need to fear. Idk how to solve this, but if everyone in the world knew, i feel like there would be a way to fight back! Wish i knew what to do with this info. Sending you love and light. |
2024.03.21 13:44 deadislandman1 Heavy Metal #6 - Don't Get Lost in Heaven
DC Next Proudly Presents:
HEAVY METAL
Issue Six: Don’t Get Lost in Heaven
Story by: u/deadislandman1
Written by: u/deadislandman1
Edited by: u/ClaraEclair, u/AdamantAce, u/geography3, u/PatrollinTheMojave, and u/GemlinTheGremlin
————————————————
“Why?”
Clifford Devoe stared at the cast of heroes across the room, a mix of immense fury, potent confusion, and unrestrained heartbreak on his face. Sweat ran down his brow, dripping from his chin. His buttoned up shirt, so clean, well ironed, and smelling of apricots, had become wrinkled and drenched, with pools of liquid ruining the areas around his armpits. His hands opened and closed slowly, balling up into fists before relaxing, though no tension seemed to be lost. He was shaking, trying to hold the intensity of his emotions in.
Devoe scanned the room, counting the heads. Cassandra Cain watched Devoe carefully, reading his every move. Jean-Paul’s knuckles were already white, his fists at his sides as he fought himself to keep his anger in check. Clifford stared at Devoe despondently, confused and clearly still reckoning with the reality of where he was. The Victor AI, his own creation, supported the weakened Cyborg, doing his best to make sure the hero didn’t fall and hurt himself. Gar tried to watch everyone, gauging who would act first and how to minimize damage.
Shuddering, Devoe screamed again, “Why?!”
Gar shook his head, “Um…shouldn’t we be asking you that dude?”
Clifford nodded, “You stuffed all of us in this…this machine. What do you have to gain from doing that? If you wanted any of us out of the way, wouldn’t you just kill us?”
“Kill you? No no, I would never want to—” Devoe sighed, his rage simmering down. Turning away from the heroes, he wiped the sweat from his face before looking out at the rest of the city. “I…I wanted to save you.”
The heroes looked at each other in confusion. Cassandra stepped forward, “ How is this…saving us?”
Devoe took a deep breath, looking up from the city towards the sky, “When I set a plan in motion years ago, I never imagined that this would be what it became. Decades ago, I was locked in combat with the Flash, the first one. He managed to trap me outside of physical reality, but with the Metal in my hands, I had planned to take my revenge on him. Even after he passed, I still had his successors who I could ruin, could destroy!”
The villain began to pace back and forth along the window. “So I engineered a plan. I took advantage of the grief of a man who had lost his son in Coast City’s destruction, Silas Stone. He believed he was creating a suitable replica of his son, but in truth he was building my vessel back to the physical world.” Devoe looked to Cyborg, who could only glare at him through his exhausted state. Devoe continued. “Of course, Silas caught on, and hid my vessel from me. I wished to glean the vessel’s location from him, so I brought him here, and made my mind one with his, cracking him open like a crab.”
Devoe exhaled, staring down at his wrinkled hands, “And that’s when everything changed. I felt his grief, his monumental sadness. Fusing with him…rubbed his despair into me, imparted itself permanently into my psyche. I saw everything differently from then on, understood everything differently. I knew then that ruining the Flash was not something I wanted to do anymore.”
Devoe closed his hands back into fists, “I wanted to create a world where nobody could feel the kind of pain Silas was going through. I wanted to create a world where…where people would not have to experience pain, or grief. A world where bad things could not happen, could not fundamentally ruin lives or change people for the worst. I wanted to create a perfect world where everyone could have perfect lives…free of hurt.”
Devoe turned to the rest of the room, regarding the heroes, “And so I did it. I could not test it on just myself though, I needed a group of subjects whose lives have been ruined by tragedy. I found that in all of you. You became my test subjects, leading perfect lives in my perfect world.”
Devoe looked to Cassandra, “A world where…you were not forced to become a weapon against your very nature.”
He then looked to Jean-Paul, “A world where someone who is never fulfilled can finally fill the void in their heart.”
His gaze shifted to Gar, “A world where you did not have to feel the responsibility of lifting others up amidst your own struggles.”
Finally, he turned to Clifford, “And a world where your mistakes do not stick to you like the mark of shame they have.”
Devoe then began to breathe faster, throwing his hands to his side, “And then you ruined everything! You threw your perfect lives away, and for what?! For a harsh world that doesn’t care for you?”
The heroes looked at each other in astonishment. They couldn’t decide whether Devoe’s plan was less sinister than what they had imagined, or an entirely new level of sinister. After a moment, Jean-Paul seemed to have an epiphany of sorts, “At least that world is real.”
Devoe glared at Jean-Paul, “What do you mean?! What makes my world any less real than the old one? I worked to replicated every sensation, every possible thing you could-”
“This place…it’s fake.” Cassandra said, also stepping forward to build on Jean-Paul. “Always a cheap copy.”
“Yeah! When bad things happen it can be rough but…it also shapes us into who we are. Life’s a whole milkshake of experiences.” Gar said. “I mean, I’d love it if my milkshakes never spilled and stuff but…you roll with the punches.”
Cyborg grunted, finding the strength to stand tall without Victor’s help, “Devoe…life is unpredictable, I know that better than anyone, but you have to realize that what you’ve made…it’s inauthentic. Sometimes pain is needless…sometimes people make mistakes that they can never take back…but nobody ever got better by pretending it didn’t exist. This whole thing…it was doomed to fail.”
Devoe stared at Cyborg before shaking his head, “No….no no no! It was not doomed to fail! It only failed because of him!” Devoe pointed an accusatory finger at Victor, who refused to flinch in the face of his creator. “He led you all astray! He hacked my system! Without him, none of you would be here!”
For a moment, the room was silent, contemplating the veracity of Devoe’s point. However, this was soon interrupted by Victor, who stepped well in front of the group to face Devoe, “Are you sure about that?”
Devoe said nothing, yet it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was trying to burn a hole through his former creation’s head. Victor stared back defiantly, “What Gar and I did? It might’ve sped things up, but them?” He pointed at the rest of the heroes, regarding Cassandra, Jean-Paul, and Clifford in equal measure. “They were still always destined to figure things out. We planted some obvious things, but they had their doubts already. Cass was figuring out that she was a prodigy fighter. Clifford was questioning how he could’ve gotten to becoming a hero without a mistake, Jean-Paul was happy but knew he hadn’t earned that happiness. Hell, Gar figured out the truth damn near instantly. They were onto your system, Devoe. They were destined to get to the truth, one way or the other.”
Victor stepped up to Devoe, getting into his face, “But do you wanna know what my biggest example is?”
Devoe looked as if he was about to explode, coldly replying, “Please…enlighten me…”
Victor smiled, “He’s standing right in front of me.”
Victor stepped away from Devoe, taking in his puzzled face. For a moment, Devoe could not understand why Victor considered him the best example for his point, but slowly, Devoe’s expression morphed from confusion to utter horror. He opened his mouth to shout…yet the pained yowl died halfway up his throat. His breathing became shaky as he stumbled back, mouth agape. Victor crossed his arms, “You put yourself in your own system to prove it worked, but even you knew something was up. We didn’t nudge you in the slightest, and yet here you are. Your system didn’t work, not on them…and not on you.”
Devoe shrank away from Victor, having been thrown into complete turmoil over the failures of his system. Falling to his knees, he continued to shake, like a dog who had been beaten into submission. Victor stood over Devoe, feeling a sense of catharsis in the act of striking at the heart of the man who created him solely to use him for his own purposes. However, as Devoe began to sink further into despair, Cyborg stepped forward, passing Victor and taking a knee next to the person who he had also come to understand was his creator.
“Devoe…Devoe!”
Devoe’s shaking began to slow as he looked at Cyborg. Cyborg took a deep breath, “Listen to me. I’ve been through the wringer…you’ve put me through the wringer. My life and my own perception of who I am have changed and changed so many times in the last few years, and most of that change wasn’t pleasant. I felt fake, useless, scared, angry. I felt a lot of things.” Cyborg put his hand on Devoe. “But even with all of that. I kept going. I knew that even though everything changed…I was still there…still me. I faced the demons I had and that gave me the closest thing to closure I could get. Trust me when I say that I never would’ve had that closure by ignoring what happened to me. This system…that’s all it’s doing. It’s hiding the things people need to face, so that they can grow, keep living their lives on their terms instead of what you think is best for them.”
Standing up, Cyborg offered Devoe a hand, “I know you weren’t trying to hurt us. I know that you feel lost, but you won’t find your way here. You’ll find it out in the real world…with the rest of us.”
The rest of the group looked at each other with unease. After everything Devoe had done, Cyborg wasn’t looking to get back at him. Cassandra looked unsure of the outcome, yet she knew that Devoe’s hurt could only be soothed by facing it. Jean-Paul felt the same, his righteous fury tempered by the teachings of forgiveness he had been internalizing for years. Clifford could not decide whether to be confused or angry, but at the end of the day everyone here was tired, and if they didn’t have to fight Devoe, he’d definitely like that better than the alternative. Gar and Victor watched with bated breath, keeping their eyes on Cyborg and Devoe respectively.
Devoe looked at Cyborg’s hand, then back at him, “You would…forgive me?”
Cyborg shook his head, “You’ve still hurt people, and you’ve left scars on me that’ll follow me for forever. You have to take responsibility for what you’ve done.” Cyborg grimaced. “But…as tough as it would be, if you accept what you’ve done, accept that you’ve hurt people and do what needs to be done to atone…I would try to find the strength...”
“To do what?”
“To forgive you.”
Devoe looked at Cyborg’s hand, paralyzed by the choice laid before him. As moments passed, he looked back at everything he had done, everything he was, and every event that had led up to this moment. He had allowed his ego to drive him for so long, and this time, even though he had changed, even though he had decided to motivate himself through a desire to help people, it had all gone wrong anyways. Devoe’s gaze shifted from the hand to the people behind Cyborg, the people he had hurt, then back to Cyborg.
And then it hit him, the reality of it all. The flaws in their arguments. Their views were tainted, tainted by what they had lived rather than what they could have lived. Slapping Victor’s hand away, he let out an angry “No!” before his entire body was enveloped by a harsh green light. Cyborg was thrown back, tumbling into the rest of the group as everyone took on fighting positions. Now a metal face with a body made up of green binary sequences, the Thinker grew five times in size, instantly dwarfing everyone in the room before lashing out at Victor with his massive arm. Clifford threw himself at Victor, knocking him out of the way and taking the blow himself. He sailed across the room before crashing against the wall, at which point he fell to the ground in a crumpled, dazed mess.
The Thinker waved his hands at the group,* “Insolent fools, all of you! You have never known a perfect world, nor have I! We are painted by our biases, and our experiences cannot be relied upon as a result! I may have given up administrative privileges to truly test this place, but that will not stop me! I will worm my way into the source code, I will burn this place to the ground, and I will build this place up again from the ashes! I will iterate, I will retain power, and I will show all of you the truth! You will not leave, and if you choose to foolishly fight against a life in paradise…I will make you stay!”
Thinker scanned the group, “So…will you listen to reason…or must this be difficult?”
Gar glanced back at Clifford, who was still rocked by the attack. Victor instinctively put himself between Cyborg and Thinker, hoping to shield the hero from any harm. Jean-Paul and Cassandra looked to each other, silently acknowledging that this situation was only going to go one way. Thinker acknowledged the silence that followed his inquiry, understanding with perfect clarity what everyone’s answer was, “Then let’s get this over with!”
Thinker lunged for Victor yet again, only for Cassandra to leap in, striking the hand in precisely the right spot to make the villain flinch. As the giant figure of binary recoiled, Jean-Paul raced along the terrifying machine that had held Cyborg, grabbing a pipe sticking out and ripping it out. Holding it the same way he would hold a blade, he sprinted towards Thinker, who attempted to bring his fist down on the man. Jean-Paul dodged to the side, avoiding chunks of metal from the crater in the spot he used to occupy. He then leapt onto Thinker’s arm, running along its length as Thinker rose, putting further distance between Jean-Paul and the ground. The roof of the room seemed to grow to accommodate Thinker, yet Jean-Paul was undeterred.
“I gave you the best life you could ever have, Jean-Paul! Why throw it away?” Thinker growled. “For more guilt?”
“Everyone on Earth has sins, Devoe! We all carry their weight,” Jean-Paul declared. “It is only through our life beyond our sins that we might redeem ourselves, and so enter Heaven. You have made a farce, a false paradise on Earth. It is an affront to God, and an affront to everything I believe in!”
Thinker attempted to smash Jean-Paul with his other hand, yet Jean-Paul rolled forward, avoiding it like a fly narrowly avoiding a swatting. He moved faster, the pipe high above his head, “If I am to find paradise, I will do it correctly, and I will not be tempted by anything less!”
Leaping over Thinker’s shoulder, Jean-Paul struck the villain across his metal face. Thinker grunted in pain, stumbling back as Jean-Paul fell towards one of the walls, using the pipe to puncture the surface and create a makeshift ledge for him to hang from.
Meanwhile, Gar rushed over to Clifford, helping the young hero to his feet, “You okay dude? That was a pretty gnarly—”
“I’m good! Just gotta…shake it off.” Clifford rubbed his temple, his vision clearing. He looked up, spotting Jean-Paul in his predicament. Gar followed his gaze, seeing the same thing. Thinker, recovering from the attack, was beginning to march towards Jean-Paul, hands formed into fists. Gar looked back at Clifford, “Pincer maneuver?”
“We both have the same understanding of that, right?”
Gar shrugged, “Maybe, but whatever we do’ll probably hurt.”
Clifford nodded, then turned his attention towards Thinker. Summoning the flight capabilities of a hummingbird, he flew towards Thinker, crossing directly in front of the villain’s face to catch his attention. Thinker swiped at Clifford, trying desperately to knock him out of the air, yet every attack was met with failure as Clifford zigged and zagged, taking advantage of the hummingbird’s ability to change directions in under a second.
“Why do you continue to struggle, Clifford? You want to retain your failures, retain the fact that you’ve left a legacy of blood in your wake?!” Thinker shouted.
“My legacy’s not written til I’m in the ground, Devoe!” Clifford said.
On the ground, Gar raced towards one of Thinker’s feet, charging in the form of a rhinoceros, Thinker turned to face Gar, putting him in position for the pincer maneuver. Gar shouted, “We are who we are because of our wins and losses—”
“—And we wouldn’t have it any other way!” Clifford proclaimed. He then flew towards the back of the distracted Thinker’s head, somersaulting before hitting the villain in the base of his metal head with a dropkick. Thinker let out an echoey “Graaaah!” as he stumbled forward, allowing Gar to crash against his foot, taking what balance he had left away. Thinker crashed to the floor, the damage on his body becoming apparent. He was beginning to bleed numbers, beginning to shrink in size.
Eventually, he was able to collect himself, now twice the size of the average man, but before he could retaliate against his attackers, Cassandra slid between his legs from the back to the front, surprising him before she jumped up, hitting him in a dozen or so spots on his body in less than a second. Yowling in pain, he attempted to kick Cassandra in the chest, but such a brazen attack was easily avoided, especially by a master of combat.
“Hrrnnn, you would take back your lack of a childhood, take back the fact that you grew up miserable and abused, and for what? It’s the source of why you hurt!” Thinker pleaded.
“Because I would not be me.” Cassandra dodged another attack from Thinker. “You think we are doomed by our past, but you are wrong.”
Thinker swung again, and this time Cassandra caught Thinker’s wrist, moving at the same time to take advantage of Thinker’s momentum. “We face pain and make our choice.!”In one fluid motion, Cassandra flipped Thinker over her shoulder, causing him to crash against the floor. “I would never change mine.”
He was almost at a normal size now, yet he wasn’t finished. Standing up, Thinker began to swing wildly at nobody in particular, flailing for any sort of control in the situation. After many swings, he was finally stopped by Victor, who didn’t even bother waiting for him to start talking. Thinker’s face was met by a digital fist, sending him reeling back as Victor marched after him, “You made me to be someone else’s cage…and now I’m free. You’re never going to take that from me…never!”
Thinker gritted his teeth, “I WILL UNMAKE YOU!”
The villain swung back, only for his fist to be blocked, held captive as Cyborg caught the attack halfway through its arc. Thinker struggled against Victor’s grip, and to his surprise, he found some of the binary code, some of the energy in his body…it was beginning to fade, transferred into the metal form of Cyborg.
“What….how….how are you—”
“You made me a part of the system, Devoe. And that means I’ve got certain privileges that you threw away. Without the bindings to hold me down, I’m free to use them on anybody, including you!” Cyborg pushed Thinker back. “Despite all the bumps, despite the fact that you used me…twice, despite the fact that it seemed like my problems would never end...I survived. I endured…and I did it because I have people who rely on me, who care about me, who have my back!”
Cyborg twisted Thinker’s hand, forcing the villain to one knee, “Even if they’re not next to me right now…they’re still a part of me, of my head, my heart…and my goddamn soul. They’ll keep me going ‘till the world ends…and it’s because of them that I know that you don’t define how I am who I am…I do!”
And with that, Cyborg took one last surge of energy from Thinker, rendering the villain powerless and unconscious. As his form slumped against the floor, Cyborg breathed a sigh of relief while the others gathered around him.
“Is…is it over?” Clifford asked.
“It would appear so.” Jean-Paul remarked.
“Nice, now uh…how are we getting out of here?” Gar inquired.
Cyborg looked towards the chair, “The bindings kept me locked down but…that chair also connected me to the rest of the system. If I can use that to rip through the code, I can force an emergency shutdown, turn everything off.”
“And then we’ll be free?” Cassandra asked.
“Devoe didn’t want any of us dead. He’d have a failsafe that sends us back to our bodies, I’m sure of it.” Cyborg stepped into the chair, looking at everyone expectantly. “Hang tight everyone…this might get messy.”
The rest of the group nodded, then braced in whatever ways they could. Before Cyborg could initiate the shutdown, Victor placed a hand on his copy’s shoulder, “Wait…before you do that…what’s gonna happen to me once this whole thing collapses?”
Cyborg looked to Victor, and rather than wearing a solemn frown, he instead winked, “Trust me, Victor. Just trust me.”
Victor looked uneasy…yet the warm tone his mirror image excluded was able to calm his nerves. He stepped back, closing his eyes in preparation for whatever was coming. Cyborg took a deep breath before taking one last look at everyone here. It was all on him now to get everyone out, and so with a flick of his finger and a fired neuron in his brain, everything went white for everyone.
—------
One Week Later.
“Cheers everyone!”
“Cheers!”
The heroes clinked their glasses together within the bustling Detroit bar, each drink holding a different liquid inside. Clifford enjoyed an ice cold cola, while Cassandra partook in a glass of lemonade. Gar himself had a light beer in his hands, while Cyborg had a small glass of bourbon. Jean-Paul calmly sipped his tap water in his seat, happy to be here and out of the simulation.
On the other side of the table sat four figures familiar to Cyborg. The first was Michael Holt, philanthropist and formerly the hero Mr. Terrific, who held a gin and tonic in his hands. The second was Silas Stone, Cyborg’s scientist father who nursed a glass of whiskey. Xenophon “Exxy” Clark was the third person, drinking his piña colada just a little too quickly. Finally, the last of the group on that side was the hero Cindy Reynolds, also sipping out of a piña colada.
After Exxy finished downing his drink, he looked at the rest of the heroes, “So you guys were trapped in like, the Matrix? That’s some crazy shit!”
“I’m just glad you guys are alright! That could’ve been…really bad!” Cindy remarked.
“The fact that he took your body, son…we should’ve noticed.” Silas said.
Michael scowled, “You’re our friend, we know you. The fact that he just slipped under our noses like that-”
“Hey, c’mon! Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Cyborg said. “Everyone’s alright now, and even if he got away with it in the moment, he didn’t in the end, and now you guys will know to look out for this stuff!”
Exxy snorted, “Yeah, man, but…hopefully not. I don’t wanna have to think about which of my friends is an imposter all the time. Being paranoid is no good.”
The group laughed in agreement at the sentiment, and continued to enjoy themselves well into the night. Eventually, Cassandra checked her watch and got out of her seat. “I have to go, I have people waiting.”
“Sounds good!” Cindy said. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. I have… realized things.” Cassandra said, pausing to think for a moment. “People don’t always make good choices when… bad things happen. I can help guide them.”
Cindy smiled, “That’s beautiful!”
Cassandra nodded, a smile of her own on her face. She didn’t say much else as she left. As Cassandra took her leave, Clifford watched her go out the door and climb onto her motorcycle, a contemplative expression on his face. He hadn’t quite parsed what kind of hero she was, but given her skillset, he had the impression that she was in the big leagues. As tantalizing as it was to ask her, Clifford realized that it was probably best not to pry. Even then, the events of last week had made him a lot more self-reflective as of late.
He had considered giving up his suit, giving up being a hero because he felt he didn’t deserve it, that it brought more harm than good. Working alongside these people, helping save them while they saved him…it made him realize there was hope for him yet, and a reason to keep trying. He’d make a good hero out of himself yet…he’d just have to work his way up there, taking his mistakes in stride to become the best version of him.
Jean-Paul observed Clifford as the boy reflected, finding humor in the fact that while Animal-Man was likely finding a catalyst for great change, Jean-Paul’s faith in his own principles had never been stronger. There may be times where he had wavered, where he stumbled, where he felt lost, but if this experience had taught him anything, it was that both God and his faith in himself would guide him to where he needed to be, no matter what.
Finally, for Gar, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He’d be reuniting with the (totally not) Doom Patrol soon, and with that, came a brand new awesome story to tell. With them he wasn’t hiding his struggles by being a friend like the Thinker had thought, he was only strengthened by having loved ones in his life. Things would happen, things would go wrong, and they always would, but nothing could change the fact that he loved this life to death, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything.
The bell above the door to the bar jingled, signaling the arrival of someone new. The heroes turned to find that it was Victor Stone who had entered, occupying his new robotic body. It wasn’t much more than an electrum frame with circuitry inside, but Victor didn’t seem to mind. He took a seat between Silas and Michael, prompting the former to smile and address him, “How’s the body treating you?”
“It’s…freeing.” Victor said, observing the gears within his fingers. “I’m so used to blipping around in the Metal that having to walk everywhere was a bit of a strange thing to get used to…but it has its own benefits. I can really…feel the world around me. It’s got its own beating heart in a way that’s different from the Metal. I like it.”
“Good! Good!” Silas said, pride on his face. “I um…I can’t say I expected you, Victor…expected you to cross over…but I couldn’t be happier about it. For as long as I’m here…this place is your home, and I’ll do everything I can to look after you…I promise.”
Victor shuddered, the emotion of Silas’s acceptance showing past his lack of real facial features, “Of course…thank you dad, I don’t know what I’d do if I ended up out in the wild.”
Victor then turned towards Cyborg, the two looking more like brothers than clones at this point. “I don’t know if you’re able to say but…where did you put Devoe?”
“I stuffed him in an external drive, that way he can’t cause any more trouble over the web. We put him somewhere safe, and I mean really safe,” Cyborg crossed his arms, “But enough about that! You’re here!”
Victor beamed, “Yeah…I am!”
Moving over to Victor, Cyborg pulled him up and gave him a crushing hug. After all the trials, all the times he was thrown into a meat grinder and chewed up, he had made it. He had friends, he had a family again, and even though he wasn’t the original Victor Stone, he had made a life all his own. No matter what the world threw at him…he was ready to face it with his people at his side.
They’d do it together, and why wouldn’t they? None of them would have it any other way.
—------
Deep within the House of Secrets, sitting on a shelf full of different magical artifacts, was a singular black box with a USB cord sticking out of it. It was a distinct item amongst the various grimoires and skulls sitting on the wooden panels, which was precisely why it was of such great interest to Vext. He had left the comfort of his armchair by the fire to stare at the device.
Such a small object held such a great mind. It intrigued Vext, but he also couldn’t exactly hold a conversation with Clifford Devoe in his current state. For a moment, he considered picking it up and plugging it into a phone or something similar that was unconnected to the internet. Instead, he retreated from the object entirely, “Nope! Nope! Not doing that.”
Electing to retire somewhere else, Vext shuffled towards the door to the room, leaving without another word. For the next few minutes, the room was quiet save for the flickering of the flames.
And then, with the flash of light, the hard drive disappeared from the shelf, there one moment…gone the next.
—------
Hey all! I wanted to put this Author’s note in to thank everyone for reading this event! For readers of Cyborg, this is the culmination of roughly 4 years of storytelling, and that’s a lot of years!!! While my time writing Victor Stone is over, the characters and those tales of adventure will stick with me forever! I hope you enjoyed the ride, because I certainly did!
submitted by deadislandman1 to DCNext [link] [comments]
HEAVY METAL
Issue Six: Don’t Get Lost in Heaven
Story by: u/deadislandman1
Written by: u/deadislandman1
Edited by: u/ClaraEclair, u/AdamantAce, u/geography3, u/PatrollinTheMojave, and u/GemlinTheGremlin
————————————————
“Why?”
Clifford Devoe stared at the cast of heroes across the room, a mix of immense fury, potent confusion, and unrestrained heartbreak on his face. Sweat ran down his brow, dripping from his chin. His buttoned up shirt, so clean, well ironed, and smelling of apricots, had become wrinkled and drenched, with pools of liquid ruining the areas around his armpits. His hands opened and closed slowly, balling up into fists before relaxing, though no tension seemed to be lost. He was shaking, trying to hold the intensity of his emotions in.
Devoe scanned the room, counting the heads. Cassandra Cain watched Devoe carefully, reading his every move. Jean-Paul’s knuckles were already white, his fists at his sides as he fought himself to keep his anger in check. Clifford stared at Devoe despondently, confused and clearly still reckoning with the reality of where he was. The Victor AI, his own creation, supported the weakened Cyborg, doing his best to make sure the hero didn’t fall and hurt himself. Gar tried to watch everyone, gauging who would act first and how to minimize damage.
Shuddering, Devoe screamed again, “Why?!”
Gar shook his head, “Um…shouldn’t we be asking you that dude?”
Clifford nodded, “You stuffed all of us in this…this machine. What do you have to gain from doing that? If you wanted any of us out of the way, wouldn’t you just kill us?”
“Kill you? No no, I would never want to—” Devoe sighed, his rage simmering down. Turning away from the heroes, he wiped the sweat from his face before looking out at the rest of the city. “I…I wanted to save you.”
The heroes looked at each other in confusion. Cassandra stepped forward, “ How is this…saving us?”
Devoe took a deep breath, looking up from the city towards the sky, “When I set a plan in motion years ago, I never imagined that this would be what it became. Decades ago, I was locked in combat with the Flash, the first one. He managed to trap me outside of physical reality, but with the Metal in my hands, I had planned to take my revenge on him. Even after he passed, I still had his successors who I could ruin, could destroy!”
The villain began to pace back and forth along the window. “So I engineered a plan. I took advantage of the grief of a man who had lost his son in Coast City’s destruction, Silas Stone. He believed he was creating a suitable replica of his son, but in truth he was building my vessel back to the physical world.” Devoe looked to Cyborg, who could only glare at him through his exhausted state. Devoe continued. “Of course, Silas caught on, and hid my vessel from me. I wished to glean the vessel’s location from him, so I brought him here, and made my mind one with his, cracking him open like a crab.”
Devoe exhaled, staring down at his wrinkled hands, “And that’s when everything changed. I felt his grief, his monumental sadness. Fusing with him…rubbed his despair into me, imparted itself permanently into my psyche. I saw everything differently from then on, understood everything differently. I knew then that ruining the Flash was not something I wanted to do anymore.”
Devoe closed his hands back into fists, “I wanted to create a world where nobody could feel the kind of pain Silas was going through. I wanted to create a world where…where people would not have to experience pain, or grief. A world where bad things could not happen, could not fundamentally ruin lives or change people for the worst. I wanted to create a perfect world where everyone could have perfect lives…free of hurt.”
Devoe turned to the rest of the room, regarding the heroes, “And so I did it. I could not test it on just myself though, I needed a group of subjects whose lives have been ruined by tragedy. I found that in all of you. You became my test subjects, leading perfect lives in my perfect world.”
Devoe looked to Cassandra, “A world where…you were not forced to become a weapon against your very nature.”
He then looked to Jean-Paul, “A world where someone who is never fulfilled can finally fill the void in their heart.”
His gaze shifted to Gar, “A world where you did not have to feel the responsibility of lifting others up amidst your own struggles.”
Finally, he turned to Clifford, “And a world where your mistakes do not stick to you like the mark of shame they have.”
Devoe then began to breathe faster, throwing his hands to his side, “And then you ruined everything! You threw your perfect lives away, and for what?! For a harsh world that doesn’t care for you?”
The heroes looked at each other in astonishment. They couldn’t decide whether Devoe’s plan was less sinister than what they had imagined, or an entirely new level of sinister. After a moment, Jean-Paul seemed to have an epiphany of sorts, “At least that world is real.”
Devoe glared at Jean-Paul, “What do you mean?! What makes my world any less real than the old one? I worked to replicated every sensation, every possible thing you could-”
“This place…it’s fake.” Cassandra said, also stepping forward to build on Jean-Paul. “Always a cheap copy.”
“Yeah! When bad things happen it can be rough but…it also shapes us into who we are. Life’s a whole milkshake of experiences.” Gar said. “I mean, I’d love it if my milkshakes never spilled and stuff but…you roll with the punches.”
Cyborg grunted, finding the strength to stand tall without Victor’s help, “Devoe…life is unpredictable, I know that better than anyone, but you have to realize that what you’ve made…it’s inauthentic. Sometimes pain is needless…sometimes people make mistakes that they can never take back…but nobody ever got better by pretending it didn’t exist. This whole thing…it was doomed to fail.”
Devoe stared at Cyborg before shaking his head, “No….no no no! It was not doomed to fail! It only failed because of him!” Devoe pointed an accusatory finger at Victor, who refused to flinch in the face of his creator. “He led you all astray! He hacked my system! Without him, none of you would be here!”
For a moment, the room was silent, contemplating the veracity of Devoe’s point. However, this was soon interrupted by Victor, who stepped well in front of the group to face Devoe, “Are you sure about that?”
Devoe said nothing, yet it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was trying to burn a hole through his former creation’s head. Victor stared back defiantly, “What Gar and I did? It might’ve sped things up, but them?” He pointed at the rest of the heroes, regarding Cassandra, Jean-Paul, and Clifford in equal measure. “They were still always destined to figure things out. We planted some obvious things, but they had their doubts already. Cass was figuring out that she was a prodigy fighter. Clifford was questioning how he could’ve gotten to becoming a hero without a mistake, Jean-Paul was happy but knew he hadn’t earned that happiness. Hell, Gar figured out the truth damn near instantly. They were onto your system, Devoe. They were destined to get to the truth, one way or the other.”
Victor stepped up to Devoe, getting into his face, “But do you wanna know what my biggest example is?”
Devoe looked as if he was about to explode, coldly replying, “Please…enlighten me…”
Victor smiled, “He’s standing right in front of me.”
Victor stepped away from Devoe, taking in his puzzled face. For a moment, Devoe could not understand why Victor considered him the best example for his point, but slowly, Devoe’s expression morphed from confusion to utter horror. He opened his mouth to shout…yet the pained yowl died halfway up his throat. His breathing became shaky as he stumbled back, mouth agape. Victor crossed his arms, “You put yourself in your own system to prove it worked, but even you knew something was up. We didn’t nudge you in the slightest, and yet here you are. Your system didn’t work, not on them…and not on you.”
Devoe shrank away from Victor, having been thrown into complete turmoil over the failures of his system. Falling to his knees, he continued to shake, like a dog who had been beaten into submission. Victor stood over Devoe, feeling a sense of catharsis in the act of striking at the heart of the man who created him solely to use him for his own purposes. However, as Devoe began to sink further into despair, Cyborg stepped forward, passing Victor and taking a knee next to the person who he had also come to understand was his creator.
“Devoe…Devoe!”
Devoe’s shaking began to slow as he looked at Cyborg. Cyborg took a deep breath, “Listen to me. I’ve been through the wringer…you’ve put me through the wringer. My life and my own perception of who I am have changed and changed so many times in the last few years, and most of that change wasn’t pleasant. I felt fake, useless, scared, angry. I felt a lot of things.” Cyborg put his hand on Devoe. “But even with all of that. I kept going. I knew that even though everything changed…I was still there…still me. I faced the demons I had and that gave me the closest thing to closure I could get. Trust me when I say that I never would’ve had that closure by ignoring what happened to me. This system…that’s all it’s doing. It’s hiding the things people need to face, so that they can grow, keep living their lives on their terms instead of what you think is best for them.”
Standing up, Cyborg offered Devoe a hand, “I know you weren’t trying to hurt us. I know that you feel lost, but you won’t find your way here. You’ll find it out in the real world…with the rest of us.”
The rest of the group looked at each other with unease. After everything Devoe had done, Cyborg wasn’t looking to get back at him. Cassandra looked unsure of the outcome, yet she knew that Devoe’s hurt could only be soothed by facing it. Jean-Paul felt the same, his righteous fury tempered by the teachings of forgiveness he had been internalizing for years. Clifford could not decide whether to be confused or angry, but at the end of the day everyone here was tired, and if they didn’t have to fight Devoe, he’d definitely like that better than the alternative. Gar and Victor watched with bated breath, keeping their eyes on Cyborg and Devoe respectively.
Devoe looked at Cyborg’s hand, then back at him, “You would…forgive me?”
Cyborg shook his head, “You’ve still hurt people, and you’ve left scars on me that’ll follow me for forever. You have to take responsibility for what you’ve done.” Cyborg grimaced. “But…as tough as it would be, if you accept what you’ve done, accept that you’ve hurt people and do what needs to be done to atone…I would try to find the strength...”
“To do what?”
“To forgive you.”
Devoe looked at Cyborg’s hand, paralyzed by the choice laid before him. As moments passed, he looked back at everything he had done, everything he was, and every event that had led up to this moment. He had allowed his ego to drive him for so long, and this time, even though he had changed, even though he had decided to motivate himself through a desire to help people, it had all gone wrong anyways. Devoe’s gaze shifted from the hand to the people behind Cyborg, the people he had hurt, then back to Cyborg.
And then it hit him, the reality of it all. The flaws in their arguments. Their views were tainted, tainted by what they had lived rather than what they could have lived. Slapping Victor’s hand away, he let out an angry “No!” before his entire body was enveloped by a harsh green light. Cyborg was thrown back, tumbling into the rest of the group as everyone took on fighting positions. Now a metal face with a body made up of green binary sequences, the Thinker grew five times in size, instantly dwarfing everyone in the room before lashing out at Victor with his massive arm. Clifford threw himself at Victor, knocking him out of the way and taking the blow himself. He sailed across the room before crashing against the wall, at which point he fell to the ground in a crumpled, dazed mess.
The Thinker waved his hands at the group,* “Insolent fools, all of you! You have never known a perfect world, nor have I! We are painted by our biases, and our experiences cannot be relied upon as a result! I may have given up administrative privileges to truly test this place, but that will not stop me! I will worm my way into the source code, I will burn this place to the ground, and I will build this place up again from the ashes! I will iterate, I will retain power, and I will show all of you the truth! You will not leave, and if you choose to foolishly fight against a life in paradise…I will make you stay!”
Thinker scanned the group, “So…will you listen to reason…or must this be difficult?”
Gar glanced back at Clifford, who was still rocked by the attack. Victor instinctively put himself between Cyborg and Thinker, hoping to shield the hero from any harm. Jean-Paul and Cassandra looked to each other, silently acknowledging that this situation was only going to go one way. Thinker acknowledged the silence that followed his inquiry, understanding with perfect clarity what everyone’s answer was, “Then let’s get this over with!”
Thinker lunged for Victor yet again, only for Cassandra to leap in, striking the hand in precisely the right spot to make the villain flinch. As the giant figure of binary recoiled, Jean-Paul raced along the terrifying machine that had held Cyborg, grabbing a pipe sticking out and ripping it out. Holding it the same way he would hold a blade, he sprinted towards Thinker, who attempted to bring his fist down on the man. Jean-Paul dodged to the side, avoiding chunks of metal from the crater in the spot he used to occupy. He then leapt onto Thinker’s arm, running along its length as Thinker rose, putting further distance between Jean-Paul and the ground. The roof of the room seemed to grow to accommodate Thinker, yet Jean-Paul was undeterred.
“I gave you the best life you could ever have, Jean-Paul! Why throw it away?” Thinker growled. “For more guilt?”
“Everyone on Earth has sins, Devoe! We all carry their weight,” Jean-Paul declared. “It is only through our life beyond our sins that we might redeem ourselves, and so enter Heaven. You have made a farce, a false paradise on Earth. It is an affront to God, and an affront to everything I believe in!”
Thinker attempted to smash Jean-Paul with his other hand, yet Jean-Paul rolled forward, avoiding it like a fly narrowly avoiding a swatting. He moved faster, the pipe high above his head, “If I am to find paradise, I will do it correctly, and I will not be tempted by anything less!”
Leaping over Thinker’s shoulder, Jean-Paul struck the villain across his metal face. Thinker grunted in pain, stumbling back as Jean-Paul fell towards one of the walls, using the pipe to puncture the surface and create a makeshift ledge for him to hang from.
Meanwhile, Gar rushed over to Clifford, helping the young hero to his feet, “You okay dude? That was a pretty gnarly—”
“I’m good! Just gotta…shake it off.” Clifford rubbed his temple, his vision clearing. He looked up, spotting Jean-Paul in his predicament. Gar followed his gaze, seeing the same thing. Thinker, recovering from the attack, was beginning to march towards Jean-Paul, hands formed into fists. Gar looked back at Clifford, “Pincer maneuver?”
“We both have the same understanding of that, right?”
Gar shrugged, “Maybe, but whatever we do’ll probably hurt.”
Clifford nodded, then turned his attention towards Thinker. Summoning the flight capabilities of a hummingbird, he flew towards Thinker, crossing directly in front of the villain’s face to catch his attention. Thinker swiped at Clifford, trying desperately to knock him out of the air, yet every attack was met with failure as Clifford zigged and zagged, taking advantage of the hummingbird’s ability to change directions in under a second.
“Why do you continue to struggle, Clifford? You want to retain your failures, retain the fact that you’ve left a legacy of blood in your wake?!” Thinker shouted.
“My legacy’s not written til I’m in the ground, Devoe!” Clifford said.
On the ground, Gar raced towards one of Thinker’s feet, charging in the form of a rhinoceros, Thinker turned to face Gar, putting him in position for the pincer maneuver. Gar shouted, “We are who we are because of our wins and losses—”
“—And we wouldn’t have it any other way!” Clifford proclaimed. He then flew towards the back of the distracted Thinker’s head, somersaulting before hitting the villain in the base of his metal head with a dropkick. Thinker let out an echoey “Graaaah!” as he stumbled forward, allowing Gar to crash against his foot, taking what balance he had left away. Thinker crashed to the floor, the damage on his body becoming apparent. He was beginning to bleed numbers, beginning to shrink in size.
Eventually, he was able to collect himself, now twice the size of the average man, but before he could retaliate against his attackers, Cassandra slid between his legs from the back to the front, surprising him before she jumped up, hitting him in a dozen or so spots on his body in less than a second. Yowling in pain, he attempted to kick Cassandra in the chest, but such a brazen attack was easily avoided, especially by a master of combat.
“Hrrnnn, you would take back your lack of a childhood, take back the fact that you grew up miserable and abused, and for what? It’s the source of why you hurt!” Thinker pleaded.
“Because I would not be me.” Cassandra dodged another attack from Thinker. “You think we are doomed by our past, but you are wrong.”
Thinker swung again, and this time Cassandra caught Thinker’s wrist, moving at the same time to take advantage of Thinker’s momentum. “We face pain and make our choice.!”In one fluid motion, Cassandra flipped Thinker over her shoulder, causing him to crash against the floor. “I would never change mine.”
He was almost at a normal size now, yet he wasn’t finished. Standing up, Thinker began to swing wildly at nobody in particular, flailing for any sort of control in the situation. After many swings, he was finally stopped by Victor, who didn’t even bother waiting for him to start talking. Thinker’s face was met by a digital fist, sending him reeling back as Victor marched after him, “You made me to be someone else’s cage…and now I’m free. You’re never going to take that from me…never!”
Thinker gritted his teeth, “I WILL UNMAKE YOU!”
The villain swung back, only for his fist to be blocked, held captive as Cyborg caught the attack halfway through its arc. Thinker struggled against Victor’s grip, and to his surprise, he found some of the binary code, some of the energy in his body…it was beginning to fade, transferred into the metal form of Cyborg.
“What….how….how are you—”
“You made me a part of the system, Devoe. And that means I’ve got certain privileges that you threw away. Without the bindings to hold me down, I’m free to use them on anybody, including you!” Cyborg pushed Thinker back. “Despite all the bumps, despite the fact that you used me…twice, despite the fact that it seemed like my problems would never end...I survived. I endured…and I did it because I have people who rely on me, who care about me, who have my back!”
Cyborg twisted Thinker’s hand, forcing the villain to one knee, “Even if they’re not next to me right now…they’re still a part of me, of my head, my heart…and my goddamn soul. They’ll keep me going ‘till the world ends…and it’s because of them that I know that you don’t define how I am who I am…I do!”
And with that, Cyborg took one last surge of energy from Thinker, rendering the villain powerless and unconscious. As his form slumped against the floor, Cyborg breathed a sigh of relief while the others gathered around him.
“Is…is it over?” Clifford asked.
“It would appear so.” Jean-Paul remarked.
“Nice, now uh…how are we getting out of here?” Gar inquired.
Cyborg looked towards the chair, “The bindings kept me locked down but…that chair also connected me to the rest of the system. If I can use that to rip through the code, I can force an emergency shutdown, turn everything off.”
“And then we’ll be free?” Cassandra asked.
“Devoe didn’t want any of us dead. He’d have a failsafe that sends us back to our bodies, I’m sure of it.” Cyborg stepped into the chair, looking at everyone expectantly. “Hang tight everyone…this might get messy.”
The rest of the group nodded, then braced in whatever ways they could. Before Cyborg could initiate the shutdown, Victor placed a hand on his copy’s shoulder, “Wait…before you do that…what’s gonna happen to me once this whole thing collapses?”
Cyborg looked to Victor, and rather than wearing a solemn frown, he instead winked, “Trust me, Victor. Just trust me.”
Victor looked uneasy…yet the warm tone his mirror image excluded was able to calm his nerves. He stepped back, closing his eyes in preparation for whatever was coming. Cyborg took a deep breath before taking one last look at everyone here. It was all on him now to get everyone out, and so with a flick of his finger and a fired neuron in his brain, everything went white for everyone.
—------
One Week Later.
“Cheers everyone!”
“Cheers!”
The heroes clinked their glasses together within the bustling Detroit bar, each drink holding a different liquid inside. Clifford enjoyed an ice cold cola, while Cassandra partook in a glass of lemonade. Gar himself had a light beer in his hands, while Cyborg had a small glass of bourbon. Jean-Paul calmly sipped his tap water in his seat, happy to be here and out of the simulation.
On the other side of the table sat four figures familiar to Cyborg. The first was Michael Holt, philanthropist and formerly the hero Mr. Terrific, who held a gin and tonic in his hands. The second was Silas Stone, Cyborg’s scientist father who nursed a glass of whiskey. Xenophon “Exxy” Clark was the third person, drinking his piña colada just a little too quickly. Finally, the last of the group on that side was the hero Cindy Reynolds, also sipping out of a piña colada.
After Exxy finished downing his drink, he looked at the rest of the heroes, “So you guys were trapped in like, the Matrix? That’s some crazy shit!”
“I’m just glad you guys are alright! That could’ve been…really bad!” Cindy remarked.
“The fact that he took your body, son…we should’ve noticed.” Silas said.
Michael scowled, “You’re our friend, we know you. The fact that he just slipped under our noses like that-”
“Hey, c’mon! Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Cyborg said. “Everyone’s alright now, and even if he got away with it in the moment, he didn’t in the end, and now you guys will know to look out for this stuff!”
Exxy snorted, “Yeah, man, but…hopefully not. I don’t wanna have to think about which of my friends is an imposter all the time. Being paranoid is no good.”
The group laughed in agreement at the sentiment, and continued to enjoy themselves well into the night. Eventually, Cassandra checked her watch and got out of her seat. “I have to go, I have people waiting.”
“Sounds good!” Cindy said. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. I have… realized things.” Cassandra said, pausing to think for a moment. “People don’t always make good choices when… bad things happen. I can help guide them.”
Cindy smiled, “That’s beautiful!”
Cassandra nodded, a smile of her own on her face. She didn’t say much else as she left. As Cassandra took her leave, Clifford watched her go out the door and climb onto her motorcycle, a contemplative expression on his face. He hadn’t quite parsed what kind of hero she was, but given her skillset, he had the impression that she was in the big leagues. As tantalizing as it was to ask her, Clifford realized that it was probably best not to pry. Even then, the events of last week had made him a lot more self-reflective as of late.
He had considered giving up his suit, giving up being a hero because he felt he didn’t deserve it, that it brought more harm than good. Working alongside these people, helping save them while they saved him…it made him realize there was hope for him yet, and a reason to keep trying. He’d make a good hero out of himself yet…he’d just have to work his way up there, taking his mistakes in stride to become the best version of him.
Jean-Paul observed Clifford as the boy reflected, finding humor in the fact that while Animal-Man was likely finding a catalyst for great change, Jean-Paul’s faith in his own principles had never been stronger. There may be times where he had wavered, where he stumbled, where he felt lost, but if this experience had taught him anything, it was that both God and his faith in himself would guide him to where he needed to be, no matter what.
Finally, for Gar, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He’d be reuniting with the (totally not) Doom Patrol soon, and with that, came a brand new awesome story to tell. With them he wasn’t hiding his struggles by being a friend like the Thinker had thought, he was only strengthened by having loved ones in his life. Things would happen, things would go wrong, and they always would, but nothing could change the fact that he loved this life to death, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything.
The bell above the door to the bar jingled, signaling the arrival of someone new. The heroes turned to find that it was Victor Stone who had entered, occupying his new robotic body. It wasn’t much more than an electrum frame with circuitry inside, but Victor didn’t seem to mind. He took a seat between Silas and Michael, prompting the former to smile and address him, “How’s the body treating you?”
“It’s…freeing.” Victor said, observing the gears within his fingers. “I’m so used to blipping around in the Metal that having to walk everywhere was a bit of a strange thing to get used to…but it has its own benefits. I can really…feel the world around me. It’s got its own beating heart in a way that’s different from the Metal. I like it.”
“Good! Good!” Silas said, pride on his face. “I um…I can’t say I expected you, Victor…expected you to cross over…but I couldn’t be happier about it. For as long as I’m here…this place is your home, and I’ll do everything I can to look after you…I promise.”
Victor shuddered, the emotion of Silas’s acceptance showing past his lack of real facial features, “Of course…thank you dad, I don’t know what I’d do if I ended up out in the wild.”
Victor then turned towards Cyborg, the two looking more like brothers than clones at this point. “I don’t know if you’re able to say but…where did you put Devoe?”
“I stuffed him in an external drive, that way he can’t cause any more trouble over the web. We put him somewhere safe, and I mean really safe,” Cyborg crossed his arms, “But enough about that! You’re here!”
Victor beamed, “Yeah…I am!”
Moving over to Victor, Cyborg pulled him up and gave him a crushing hug. After all the trials, all the times he was thrown into a meat grinder and chewed up, he had made it. He had friends, he had a family again, and even though he wasn’t the original Victor Stone, he had made a life all his own. No matter what the world threw at him…he was ready to face it with his people at his side.
They’d do it together, and why wouldn’t they? None of them would have it any other way.
—------
Deep within the House of Secrets, sitting on a shelf full of different magical artifacts, was a singular black box with a USB cord sticking out of it. It was a distinct item amongst the various grimoires and skulls sitting on the wooden panels, which was precisely why it was of such great interest to Vext. He had left the comfort of his armchair by the fire to stare at the device.
Such a small object held such a great mind. It intrigued Vext, but he also couldn’t exactly hold a conversation with Clifford Devoe in his current state. For a moment, he considered picking it up and plugging it into a phone or something similar that was unconnected to the internet. Instead, he retreated from the object entirely, “Nope! Nope! Not doing that.”
Electing to retire somewhere else, Vext shuffled towards the door to the room, leaving without another word. For the next few minutes, the room was quiet save for the flickering of the flames.
And then, with the flash of light, the hard drive disappeared from the shelf, there one moment…gone the next.
—------
Hey all! I wanted to put this Author’s note in to thank everyone for reading this event! For readers of Cyborg, this is the culmination of roughly 4 years of storytelling, and that’s a lot of years!!! While my time writing Victor Stone is over, the characters and those tales of adventure will stick with me forever! I hope you enjoyed the ride, because I certainly did!
2024.03.10 09:42 PropRatActual The Black: Ep105 Monsoons P2
Hey guys, 4th Wall here!
My sincerest apologies for being late. I will be dropping to about one post a week for the near future. I got the rough draft edit back from my editor and will be working on refining Book 1 in earnest now.
As always. I appreciate each and every one of you who stop by. I do have a Patreon that has extra content and shorts both inside The Black-verse and out. I just released my first short that is from the perspective of the Mac and Lyrians twins: Bry and Tris on Patreon. I'll be making a small spin off series with them for my Patreon members first. Nothing in there is going to change the main story of The Black, which will always stay free and on HFY first. As always, just showin up to hang out and read is always enough! Love Ya all, even the critical ones!
If this is your first time reading The Black: WELCOME!! I hope you enjoyed this episode enough to start from the beginning down below!
First, Previous, Next
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Drip…Drip…Drip…Drip…Drip…
It was an insidiously persistent noise that wormed its way into the soul. Relief came in spurts and sputters. The humming whirr of a pump kicking on to purge the putred water from the linked entrenchments… The shuffled sloshing of feet from the changing of the watch… respite was fleeting, always falling away to return to that ever maddening sound of water falling unseen in the predawn darkness. It would not be light for a while yet, precious little time to gain elusive rest before first light brought its promise of violence. Barellus gave up on sleep, deciding instead to join the watch change on the trench line. “Anything to report?”
“No Barellus,” a whispered response returned, “The storms ceased at half watch.”
“Good,” Barellus slipped to the side, allowing space for the fresh morning watch to settle into their positions. “Get some food, and rest. It will be light soon, I expect…” a quiet zipping sound, more imagined that felt whispered past just as the previous watch leader’s head detonated. The blood, bone and brain matter coated Barellus in a thick smattering of organic matter. Temporarily blinded, he frantically pawed at his eyes and face, brain desperately trying to catch up. Moments later a now all too familiar thumping of Human brought light artillery and mortars rang out from the darkness. Shouting calls for cover were quickly drowned out under the explosive roar of hundreds of pounds of chemical explosives landing throughout the Vorath line. A pair of 106mm mortar rounds landed directly next to a still reeling Barellus and his watch. Their bodies were never recovered.
_________________________________________________________________________
Sean Reaux watched the bombardment from behind the twin tubes of his helmet mounted night vision. The predawn darkness revealed its secrets under the dull green glow as he watched the enemy position. He was squad leader of the second squad of his platoon, tasked with hitting the line just to the right of first squad. His approach to the trenches would be 50 yards of open muddy ground. It was widely suspected that their Vorath foe did not have artificial night vision, and tonight would be the proving ground.
“How much long’r Sarn’t” Pete Morgan, his squad’s grenadier whispered from his position in their line along the tree line.
“Any moment now.” Sean hissed back, “Get Ready to move, Grenades first. Pete I want you to shift right, Base of fire until we get half way across, then follow. Sound off.” Each of his men murmured their confirmations as the last shells fell on the enemy positions. Sean’s radio ear piece clicked three times, “Lets go boys!” He barked. Almost before he finished his order, Pete squeezed the trigger on his M949-G, the great grandson of the M249-Squad Automatic Weapon. Its Staccato chattering accompanied the streaking tracers arcing into the night. Second squad broke cover at a full sprint.
Sean scanned their target position as they approached the middle of the field they were approaching, nodding mentally as Pete’s shooting dissipated. ‘Good, the kid’s moving’ “Grenades!” he bellowed. Everyone in his squad had drawn extra grenades for this mission, Frank and Victor were the best arms and were the first to make a toss. The pair of small round fragmentation grenades disappeared behind the Trench berms, flying dirt and debris heralding the report of their detonation. Screams followed as two Vorath crawled out of the trenches entirely, sputtering in confusion before being taken down by quick shots from the Squad’s best marksman, Trey.
Sean was about to give the order for more grenades when the hammer of God himself slammed into his side, throwing him to the ground with a grunt of pain. A pillbox, one lucky enough to survive the bombardment had a heavy laser cannon, probably pulled from a tank, inside. Its occupants began Hosing his squad down with a hail of laser fire. Sean was clawing his way towards cover, unable to do anything as four rounds stitched their way up Victors torso before a fifth turned his head to mist. Feeling a hand on the back of his armor, Sean experienced a violent yanking, and was dragged through the mud on his back before being unceremoniously dumped in a crater with his surviving squad members.
Frank’s face appeared in Seans vision as he struggled for air, “I got you Sarge, lem’me take a look.” The man ripped Seans armor off with practiced ease. The heavy laser round had impacted his front plate at an angle, dissipating some of the energy before being defeated. Frank found a long strip of third degree burn along the right side of Seans chest where the round had seared him, hopefully missing his lungs before exiting from behind his armpit. “This is gonna hurt.” Frank warned, moments before hosing the wound down with anaseptic with one hand and holding down his squad leader with the other. More heavy lazer fire ripped over their heads, “Where’s Pete.” Sean gasped before a sharp punch on his jugular told him that Frank had injected him with Nanites. “Donno, Trey’s covering the trench. I saw pete dive, couldn’t tell.” Frank’s face was creased with worry before he whipped around, pointing his rifle as a figure diving up against the mound of mud.
“Here, Sarn’t” Pete gasped, there was a trickle of blood on his forehead, and a big nervous expression on the face of the goofy young gunner.
Sean felt his body begin to respond to the nanites, “we need that pillbox killed, yesterday. Pete suppress the fuck out of it. Frank, help me over into the trench.” Pete dove past the two of them, throwing his belt fed up on a lip of dirt before holding the trigger down. By the time Frank had Sean into proper cover, Pete had expended half a belt, and the Pillbox was struggling to return effective fire.
“We need Grenades on that son of a bitch.” Wheezed Sean, tasting copper in the back of his throat. “Let’s move up to..” A Roaring voice of hate gave little warning as Sean was tackled by a massive Blood covered Vorath Soldier, His face was wide with blind rage as he clubbed Sean repeatedly with his own helmet. Sean was no light weight, but he was also injured. Frank moved to take the shot just as a smaller las round ripped into his shoulder, sending him sprawling. The desperate fight was on, and Sean was slowly backpedaling as the iron in his throat increase. He managed to get his back to the wall of the trench and found himself trading desperate blows with his berzerking attacker.
The Vorath had lost more than his weapon in the bombardment, mindlessly raking at Sean with his claws. The blows fell with frantic abandoned, the Vorath constantly trying to get at the eyes and the throat while slowly shredding Seans uniform and armor’s fabric pouches. A heavy left hook sent the Vorath stumbling back only to have him redouble his efforts as Sean tried to draw his sidearm. The pistol splattered into a puddle as the two grappled, Sean slowly weakening from the loss of blood. ‘this is it… this is how I die’ Sean’s mind fell into a calm. He found himself strangely ok with death even as he fought for his very existence. Blood from an increasing number of cuts to his scalp began to blind the squad leader, and the Vorath finally got his hands around the throat of the human. Sean was moments from succumbing, desperately reaching for his combat knife with a free hand. His hand found purchase, ripping the blade from its sheath and plunging into the side of his attacker. The hands around his throat slackened slightly, and Sean sucked in a lifegiving lungful of air before driving the knife in again, and again. The Vorath finally weakened enough for Sean to push back, driving the blade into the soldiers gut several more times before he found himself on top of his enemy. One final stroke, His Kabar punching through the eye socket of his attacker and into his brain, ended the brutal brawl. Sean’s body finally failed him. He found himself sitting in a puddle of muddy water and gore, spitting up his own blood in earnest as a second vorath rounded the corner of the trench line. This one smiled sinisterly, slowly drawing a wicked looking dagger from its sheath before slowly approaching Sean…. Only to have the top half of his head disappear in a mist of organic matter accompanied by a thunderous explosion. The huge grey alien fell forward revealing a hulking armored Human in a MACE suit, holding a shotgun.
Dozer had watched most of the plight of second squad, locking their position on his hud as the drone overhead sent him the images of the desperate exchanges. The Mace MkII’s were out in force for this engagement, but they were still few, floating between hot spots of violence in this predawn assault. His weapon of choice for tonight was a 12 guage autoloading magnetically accelerated shotgun, otherwise known as the M12A2-MAS. He was down to half of the ammunition he started with by the time he dispatched Seans second attacker. A skinny young kid hefting a LMG slipped up over the trench lip, having finally gotten a disabling hit on the weapon inside of the pillbox that almost claimed his squad leaders life. “Sarn’t?”
“Check on Frank *cough* I think I’ve had it.” Sean wheezed, now coughing up blood in earnest.
“No, you haven’t soldier.” Dozers voice rumbled over his helmets speakers. The Captain knelt down next to Sean, giving him a second dose of Nanites before calling for a medic over the radio. Frank groaned as he leaned up against the trench, arm hanging uselessly by his side, and Pete took up a position to cover them from counterattack. Dozer stayed with them for a couple of minutes until third squad, doc in tow, linked up to take care of the survivors of Seans men.
“We got em’ now Captain, thank you” The Medic stated over his shoulder. Dozer simply nodded and took off at a trott. Moments later the booming of his shotgun could be heard as he cleared the pillbox, as Dawn peeked its first rays over the Horizon. Sean was soon leaning up against a half-destroyed tree stump with around fifty other wounded who were waiting for Evac. The sounds of war slowly receded as the fighting moved on, leaving only one.
Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…
____________________________________________________________________________________________
The Edge of the Rawkir system exploded with activity. The Second Vorath Fleet had arrived in force, if much further out than they had planned. Centarus, mood had not improved with his arrival into the system. His surviving vanguard had provided invaluable if unsavory information. The floating Carnage of the ongoing struggle was steadily filling the gravity well of Rawkir with the shattered corpses of murdered capital ships, and forced the abandonment of his original strategy of dropping out of subspace directly into orbit. Instead, the fleet dropped from subspace along Rawkir’s orbital path itself. Centarus suppressed his displeasure as he studied the information before him. It would be two hours until He reached the planet. A singular contact flickered in and out of the sensor net provided by his fleet. They were not alone.
Across the black, over a million Kilometers from the incoming Vorath fleet, stalked their shadow. Captain Corellus Grarzia, Master under the void of the Legion Warship USN Olyvia stalked, Stalked his prey. It was an Odd feeling, being the hunter, but his orders were clear. Harass the enemy, slow him, keep him looking over his shoulder, and his location unhidden. Luckily, Cory had help. A flight of Fighters fresh off of USN Tharsis, were currently extended out ahead of him, tendrils readying themselves to strike. His Human crewmen and women had called his plan “wolfpack” and once Cory researched the term, he was unable to disagree with them. The Fighters were not the only members of his pack. While every vessel under his provisional command was coated in a layers of sensor defeating stealth coatings, only two could disappear into The Black at will. R’Cari and Sombra were absent from Olyvia’s sensors, but they were captain Corellus hidden daggers, checking in via coded tight beam transmission every quarter hour. Their latest transmission was just being received. Corellus nodded in satisfaction. The trap was set. Now, to bait it.
“first officer, sound battle stations.” Cory’s orders flowed with confidence, “Coms, Send signal: TimberWolf”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Atticus stepped off the transport onto Ceres, immediately impacted by the excited embrace of an exuberant Jez. A smiling Warren followed, extending his arm in a very human handshake. “Welcome to Ceres, Att.”
“It would appear that I was missed.” Somehow Atticus managed to make his artificial eyes to sparkle slightly in amusement as Jez continued to squeeze him as tightly as she could for a few moments.
“You were.” She smiled, “I’m sorry we could not return. Warren had to go and turn space travel on its head.” Warren snorted in response before turning to the exit of the hanger bay, “Common, lets get you settled in, the Director wants your eyes on this as soon as possible.” The three of them started down the halls of Ceres, “So how did you get yourself attached to the Gate project.”
“My people were obsessed with information retention. I may be focusing on Zoological and Biological sciences now, but they was not my only discipline. I also requested permission to Join you on your trip to Unity space. I have an old friend on Delmar. I would like to oversee her recovery. Besides, now that I am an artificial being. I have downloaded the sum total of all the knowledge I could get my hands on regarding space travel, both subspace, slipspace, and this Gate concept. I will be offering my mobile processing services to the design teams as a whole.” Atticus looked around for a moment before leaning in, “And I was worried about Jez. The Eleri did not travel widely due to their gravity constraints. Jez is reacting to heavy gravity in ways that worry me as much as confuse me.”
“Ah,” Warren nodded, subconsciously wrapping an arm around Jez before responding, “Im assuming you brought what you need?”
“I did. For now, however, I wish to sample the local fare. This body is the first to allow me the ability to process Taste, and I wanted to try it for the first time with the only family I have left.” Atticus gave a small smile.
Warren smirked slightly, “You’re getting soft Adds. I thought Corth abhorred sentimentality”. Atticus shrugged in return, “I am coming to find that I am no longer Corth. What I am, is to be determined.”
Atticus felt a strange since of companionships return as the three of them walked the promenade of Ceres. As always, the artificial Corth got many stares as he walked with the beings he had come to call family. Warren had decided to Introduce Atticus to Italian, which was an experience in its own right. Atticus had not grown up eating. At the time of his organic life, the Corth had long figured out how to infuse nutrients without the need for a full digestive system. He was vaguely aware that there was animal protein in his meal, but he found that he cared very little. Humanity, especially deep space living Humanity almost exclusively used cloned meat for their non vegetarian dishes. Warren had been laughing openly at the involuntary awed reaction Atticus exuded upon his first experience with a “meat ball”. Atticus had not pried but made a mental note when he noticed Jez eating significantly more that she used to, even stealing one of Warrens meatballs for herself.
The evening wound down as Warren dropped off Atticus to his room, “Meeting starts at 0800. See ya in the morning”. Atticus extended a hand, “I will attend on time. Have a good evening, Warren”. Atticus put himself into a standby/processing mode to store the events of the day in his long term memory. He had found that he no longer dreamed, but rewatching the events of the day appeared profitable for analysis. His artificial body did not stir until the morning.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A little shorter than I would have liked, but I wanted to get something out to you guys this week.
o7 all!
submitted by PropRatActual to HFY [link] [comments]
My sincerest apologies for being late. I will be dropping to about one post a week for the near future. I got the rough draft edit back from my editor and will be working on refining Book 1 in earnest now.
As always. I appreciate each and every one of you who stop by. I do have a Patreon that has extra content and shorts both inside The Black-verse and out. I just released my first short that is from the perspective of the Mac and Lyrians twins: Bry and Tris on Patreon. I'll be making a small spin off series with them for my Patreon members first. Nothing in there is going to change the main story of The Black, which will always stay free and on HFY first. As always, just showin up to hang out and read is always enough! Love Ya all, even the critical ones!
If this is your first time reading The Black: WELCOME!! I hope you enjoyed this episode enough to start from the beginning down below!
First, Previous, Next
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Drip…Drip…Drip…Drip…Drip…
It was an insidiously persistent noise that wormed its way into the soul. Relief came in spurts and sputters. The humming whirr of a pump kicking on to purge the putred water from the linked entrenchments… The shuffled sloshing of feet from the changing of the watch… respite was fleeting, always falling away to return to that ever maddening sound of water falling unseen in the predawn darkness. It would not be light for a while yet, precious little time to gain elusive rest before first light brought its promise of violence. Barellus gave up on sleep, deciding instead to join the watch change on the trench line. “Anything to report?”
“No Barellus,” a whispered response returned, “The storms ceased at half watch.”
“Good,” Barellus slipped to the side, allowing space for the fresh morning watch to settle into their positions. “Get some food, and rest. It will be light soon, I expect…” a quiet zipping sound, more imagined that felt whispered past just as the previous watch leader’s head detonated. The blood, bone and brain matter coated Barellus in a thick smattering of organic matter. Temporarily blinded, he frantically pawed at his eyes and face, brain desperately trying to catch up. Moments later a now all too familiar thumping of Human brought light artillery and mortars rang out from the darkness. Shouting calls for cover were quickly drowned out under the explosive roar of hundreds of pounds of chemical explosives landing throughout the Vorath line. A pair of 106mm mortar rounds landed directly next to a still reeling Barellus and his watch. Their bodies were never recovered.
_________________________________________________________________________
Sean Reaux watched the bombardment from behind the twin tubes of his helmet mounted night vision. The predawn darkness revealed its secrets under the dull green glow as he watched the enemy position. He was squad leader of the second squad of his platoon, tasked with hitting the line just to the right of first squad. His approach to the trenches would be 50 yards of open muddy ground. It was widely suspected that their Vorath foe did not have artificial night vision, and tonight would be the proving ground.
“How much long’r Sarn’t” Pete Morgan, his squad’s grenadier whispered from his position in their line along the tree line.
“Any moment now.” Sean hissed back, “Get Ready to move, Grenades first. Pete I want you to shift right, Base of fire until we get half way across, then follow. Sound off.” Each of his men murmured their confirmations as the last shells fell on the enemy positions. Sean’s radio ear piece clicked three times, “Lets go boys!” He barked. Almost before he finished his order, Pete squeezed the trigger on his M949-G, the great grandson of the M249-Squad Automatic Weapon. Its Staccato chattering accompanied the streaking tracers arcing into the night. Second squad broke cover at a full sprint.
Sean scanned their target position as they approached the middle of the field they were approaching, nodding mentally as Pete’s shooting dissipated. ‘Good, the kid’s moving’ “Grenades!” he bellowed. Everyone in his squad had drawn extra grenades for this mission, Frank and Victor were the best arms and were the first to make a toss. The pair of small round fragmentation grenades disappeared behind the Trench berms, flying dirt and debris heralding the report of their detonation. Screams followed as two Vorath crawled out of the trenches entirely, sputtering in confusion before being taken down by quick shots from the Squad’s best marksman, Trey.
Sean was about to give the order for more grenades when the hammer of God himself slammed into his side, throwing him to the ground with a grunt of pain. A pillbox, one lucky enough to survive the bombardment had a heavy laser cannon, probably pulled from a tank, inside. Its occupants began Hosing his squad down with a hail of laser fire. Sean was clawing his way towards cover, unable to do anything as four rounds stitched their way up Victors torso before a fifth turned his head to mist. Feeling a hand on the back of his armor, Sean experienced a violent yanking, and was dragged through the mud on his back before being unceremoniously dumped in a crater with his surviving squad members.
Frank’s face appeared in Seans vision as he struggled for air, “I got you Sarge, lem’me take a look.” The man ripped Seans armor off with practiced ease. The heavy laser round had impacted his front plate at an angle, dissipating some of the energy before being defeated. Frank found a long strip of third degree burn along the right side of Seans chest where the round had seared him, hopefully missing his lungs before exiting from behind his armpit. “This is gonna hurt.” Frank warned, moments before hosing the wound down with anaseptic with one hand and holding down his squad leader with the other. More heavy lazer fire ripped over their heads, “Where’s Pete.” Sean gasped before a sharp punch on his jugular told him that Frank had injected him with Nanites. “Donno, Trey’s covering the trench. I saw pete dive, couldn’t tell.” Frank’s face was creased with worry before he whipped around, pointing his rifle as a figure diving up against the mound of mud.
“Here, Sarn’t” Pete gasped, there was a trickle of blood on his forehead, and a big nervous expression on the face of the goofy young gunner.
Sean felt his body begin to respond to the nanites, “we need that pillbox killed, yesterday. Pete suppress the fuck out of it. Frank, help me over into the trench.” Pete dove past the two of them, throwing his belt fed up on a lip of dirt before holding the trigger down. By the time Frank had Sean into proper cover, Pete had expended half a belt, and the Pillbox was struggling to return effective fire.
“We need Grenades on that son of a bitch.” Wheezed Sean, tasting copper in the back of his throat. “Let’s move up to..” A Roaring voice of hate gave little warning as Sean was tackled by a massive Blood covered Vorath Soldier, His face was wide with blind rage as he clubbed Sean repeatedly with his own helmet. Sean was no light weight, but he was also injured. Frank moved to take the shot just as a smaller las round ripped into his shoulder, sending him sprawling. The desperate fight was on, and Sean was slowly backpedaling as the iron in his throat increase. He managed to get his back to the wall of the trench and found himself trading desperate blows with his berzerking attacker.
The Vorath had lost more than his weapon in the bombardment, mindlessly raking at Sean with his claws. The blows fell with frantic abandoned, the Vorath constantly trying to get at the eyes and the throat while slowly shredding Seans uniform and armor’s fabric pouches. A heavy left hook sent the Vorath stumbling back only to have him redouble his efforts as Sean tried to draw his sidearm. The pistol splattered into a puddle as the two grappled, Sean slowly weakening from the loss of blood. ‘this is it… this is how I die’ Sean’s mind fell into a calm. He found himself strangely ok with death even as he fought for his very existence. Blood from an increasing number of cuts to his scalp began to blind the squad leader, and the Vorath finally got his hands around the throat of the human. Sean was moments from succumbing, desperately reaching for his combat knife with a free hand. His hand found purchase, ripping the blade from its sheath and plunging into the side of his attacker. The hands around his throat slackened slightly, and Sean sucked in a lifegiving lungful of air before driving the knife in again, and again. The Vorath finally weakened enough for Sean to push back, driving the blade into the soldiers gut several more times before he found himself on top of his enemy. One final stroke, His Kabar punching through the eye socket of his attacker and into his brain, ended the brutal brawl. Sean’s body finally failed him. He found himself sitting in a puddle of muddy water and gore, spitting up his own blood in earnest as a second vorath rounded the corner of the trench line. This one smiled sinisterly, slowly drawing a wicked looking dagger from its sheath before slowly approaching Sean…. Only to have the top half of his head disappear in a mist of organic matter accompanied by a thunderous explosion. The huge grey alien fell forward revealing a hulking armored Human in a MACE suit, holding a shotgun.
Dozer had watched most of the plight of second squad, locking their position on his hud as the drone overhead sent him the images of the desperate exchanges. The Mace MkII’s were out in force for this engagement, but they were still few, floating between hot spots of violence in this predawn assault. His weapon of choice for tonight was a 12 guage autoloading magnetically accelerated shotgun, otherwise known as the M12A2-MAS. He was down to half of the ammunition he started with by the time he dispatched Seans second attacker. A skinny young kid hefting a LMG slipped up over the trench lip, having finally gotten a disabling hit on the weapon inside of the pillbox that almost claimed his squad leaders life. “Sarn’t?”
“Check on Frank *cough* I think I’ve had it.” Sean wheezed, now coughing up blood in earnest.
“No, you haven’t soldier.” Dozers voice rumbled over his helmets speakers. The Captain knelt down next to Sean, giving him a second dose of Nanites before calling for a medic over the radio. Frank groaned as he leaned up against the trench, arm hanging uselessly by his side, and Pete took up a position to cover them from counterattack. Dozer stayed with them for a couple of minutes until third squad, doc in tow, linked up to take care of the survivors of Seans men.
“We got em’ now Captain, thank you” The Medic stated over his shoulder. Dozer simply nodded and took off at a trott. Moments later the booming of his shotgun could be heard as he cleared the pillbox, as Dawn peeked its first rays over the Horizon. Sean was soon leaning up against a half-destroyed tree stump with around fifty other wounded who were waiting for Evac. The sounds of war slowly receded as the fighting moved on, leaving only one.
Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…
____________________________________________________________________________________________
The Edge of the Rawkir system exploded with activity. The Second Vorath Fleet had arrived in force, if much further out than they had planned. Centarus, mood had not improved with his arrival into the system. His surviving vanguard had provided invaluable if unsavory information. The floating Carnage of the ongoing struggle was steadily filling the gravity well of Rawkir with the shattered corpses of murdered capital ships, and forced the abandonment of his original strategy of dropping out of subspace directly into orbit. Instead, the fleet dropped from subspace along Rawkir’s orbital path itself. Centarus suppressed his displeasure as he studied the information before him. It would be two hours until He reached the planet. A singular contact flickered in and out of the sensor net provided by his fleet. They were not alone.
Across the black, over a million Kilometers from the incoming Vorath fleet, stalked their shadow. Captain Corellus Grarzia, Master under the void of the Legion Warship USN Olyvia stalked, Stalked his prey. It was an Odd feeling, being the hunter, but his orders were clear. Harass the enemy, slow him, keep him looking over his shoulder, and his location unhidden. Luckily, Cory had help. A flight of Fighters fresh off of USN Tharsis, were currently extended out ahead of him, tendrils readying themselves to strike. His Human crewmen and women had called his plan “wolfpack” and once Cory researched the term, he was unable to disagree with them. The Fighters were not the only members of his pack. While every vessel under his provisional command was coated in a layers of sensor defeating stealth coatings, only two could disappear into The Black at will. R’Cari and Sombra were absent from Olyvia’s sensors, but they were captain Corellus hidden daggers, checking in via coded tight beam transmission every quarter hour. Their latest transmission was just being received. Corellus nodded in satisfaction. The trap was set. Now, to bait it.
“first officer, sound battle stations.” Cory’s orders flowed with confidence, “Coms, Send signal: TimberWolf”
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Atticus stepped off the transport onto Ceres, immediately impacted by the excited embrace of an exuberant Jez. A smiling Warren followed, extending his arm in a very human handshake. “Welcome to Ceres, Att.”
“It would appear that I was missed.” Somehow Atticus managed to make his artificial eyes to sparkle slightly in amusement as Jez continued to squeeze him as tightly as she could for a few moments.
“You were.” She smiled, “I’m sorry we could not return. Warren had to go and turn space travel on its head.” Warren snorted in response before turning to the exit of the hanger bay, “Common, lets get you settled in, the Director wants your eyes on this as soon as possible.” The three of them started down the halls of Ceres, “So how did you get yourself attached to the Gate project.”
“My people were obsessed with information retention. I may be focusing on Zoological and Biological sciences now, but they was not my only discipline. I also requested permission to Join you on your trip to Unity space. I have an old friend on Delmar. I would like to oversee her recovery. Besides, now that I am an artificial being. I have downloaded the sum total of all the knowledge I could get my hands on regarding space travel, both subspace, slipspace, and this Gate concept. I will be offering my mobile processing services to the design teams as a whole.” Atticus looked around for a moment before leaning in, “And I was worried about Jez. The Eleri did not travel widely due to their gravity constraints. Jez is reacting to heavy gravity in ways that worry me as much as confuse me.”
“Ah,” Warren nodded, subconsciously wrapping an arm around Jez before responding, “Im assuming you brought what you need?”
“I did. For now, however, I wish to sample the local fare. This body is the first to allow me the ability to process Taste, and I wanted to try it for the first time with the only family I have left.” Atticus gave a small smile.
Warren smirked slightly, “You’re getting soft Adds. I thought Corth abhorred sentimentality”. Atticus shrugged in return, “I am coming to find that I am no longer Corth. What I am, is to be determined.”
Atticus felt a strange since of companionships return as the three of them walked the promenade of Ceres. As always, the artificial Corth got many stares as he walked with the beings he had come to call family. Warren had decided to Introduce Atticus to Italian, which was an experience in its own right. Atticus had not grown up eating. At the time of his organic life, the Corth had long figured out how to infuse nutrients without the need for a full digestive system. He was vaguely aware that there was animal protein in his meal, but he found that he cared very little. Humanity, especially deep space living Humanity almost exclusively used cloned meat for their non vegetarian dishes. Warren had been laughing openly at the involuntary awed reaction Atticus exuded upon his first experience with a “meat ball”. Atticus had not pried but made a mental note when he noticed Jez eating significantly more that she used to, even stealing one of Warrens meatballs for herself.
The evening wound down as Warren dropped off Atticus to his room, “Meeting starts at 0800. See ya in the morning”. Atticus extended a hand, “I will attend on time. Have a good evening, Warren”. Atticus put himself into a standby/processing mode to store the events of the day in his long term memory. He had found that he no longer dreamed, but rewatching the events of the day appeared profitable for analysis. His artificial body did not stir until the morning.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A little shorter than I would have liked, but I wanted to get something out to you guys this week.
o7 all!
2024.02.24 04:10 a15minutestory [WP] You are an archangel tasked to monitor the guardian angels and demons that influence each human being on Earth. Suddenly, you encounter a strange winged being that is not logged in your catalog of known angels and demons. You decided to investigate. [Part 4]
The wind howled outside carrying small flurries of sand across the floor of the crypt as the two sides stared one another down. Seven angels standing at the ready, glowing spears in hand. One imbalanced nephilim with a history of being indomitable in battle. Whether it be from skill, dumb luck, or some unknowable power— none of the celestials gathered wanted to be the first to test it.
For to know death was an experience belonging to only a small family of angels. Those who were deemed worthy in their mortality to ascend to a greater being in the afterlife... and those who crossed Deacon Ezra Gallardo.
The revolvers he held at the ready, named Rennd & Serra, were well-known as two of the only weapons in all of existence that could kill an angel or a demon for good. Where the guns came from and how they were made; these secrets died with Deacon's father, their previous wielder. This was a battle with high stakes and one that Abadriel knew he couldn't avoid.
He was duty-bound to restore the nephilim's balance or die trying.
"Everyone," Abadriel addressed his angels telepathically; a radio signal he was certain Deacon couldn't tune into anymore. "I will attack first and I will strike alone."
"Commander," one of his soldiers was quick to protest.
"I will not hear dissent," Abadriel spoke sternly. "I created this monster. I will assume the risk that comes with striking first. What I expect you to do is accurately assess his reaction time. I want it in milliseconds. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," came the collective answer.
"Watch closely, everyone."
Abadriel stared ahead, moving not a muscle. There was no sign nor signal that he was about to attack when he vanished from sight. In the same instant, he appeared behind the cowboy, thrusting his spear with expert form.
Deacon slid left, avoiding the strike, and whipped around without hesitation, firing a shot that ripped through the angelic smoke left behind when Abadriel voidwalked to safety. The crack of the revolver hung in the air as the cowboy turned and eyed Abadriel, who had rejoined his platoon.
The surprise on Deacon's face indicated to the rest of them that he was also dumbfounded by the speed of his own reaction. He turned to face the group again, looking down at his arms and turning them over. A smile spread across his face.
Abadriel furrowed his brow and swallowed. "That was fast," he addressed his soldiers. "Someone tell me how fast."
There was a long silence before someone finally spoke. "Sir... it was almost instantaneous," spoke the angel as if in a nihilistic trance. " 76 milliseconds. I would hazard a guess that it came to him as mere instinct."
Abadriel knew as well as the others what that meant.
"Sir. He's nearly as fast an archdemon," one of them cautioned. "Maybe we should call for backup."
But the commander knew better. If it were discovered what he had done here; what he had caused. He could be exiled from Heaven. It was a fate that he feared far more than nonexistence. He had to fix this and it couldn't wait. He watched Deacon hop around on his toes like a pugilist, a big smile on his face as he began to realize what he was capable of.
"Anyone who wishes to leave... go now," Abadriel commanded. "I will share this tomb with that winged creature if I must. But I will not run."
An uneasy silence fell among them. One angel vanished. Then another. Finally a third.
"Cowards," one of the remaining soldiers growled.
"Judge not lest ye be judged," Abadriel said calmly. "They calculated that they would only be a hindrance to us at best. I assume the three of you are prepared to fight alongside me."
"Sir," the three of them spoke in tandem.
"We're with you to the end, Captain," came reassuring words of loyalty.
"I'm fast without that other half shackling me down," called Deacon in a mocking jovial tone. "Startin' to think I'm better off without it, how 'bout you?"
"Everyone listen up," Abadriel commanded. "He will not wait around forever, so I'll make this as succinct as possible. I theorize that the angel in him was at odds with the demon in him. It made coordination difficult for him. His reflexes were great before, but now they're extraordinary. While he would, at times, accidentally voidwalk as the angels do... I strongly suspect he's incapable of that now."
"Faster and better coordinated Deacon?" one of the soldiers sighed.
"That's correct. We can safely assume that he won't disappear in front of our eyes... and we can also conclude that his ability to heal has left him also. So the damage we do will stick, at least in the short term. His demon-healing will be stronger, at least as effective as a normal demon's. So we have to finish this here. If we fall, he will be fully healed in a matter of hours."
"It may also take him some time to get used to his new agility," one of the soldiers piped up. "We should end this as soon as possible before he has time to acclimate."
"Agreed," said Abadriel. "On me. Cover one another's openings. Voidwalk as often as possible. We need him to expend all of his ammunition. As soon as his guns are empty, the tide of battle will swing dramatically in our favor. Do not aim to kill. We will hold him down and I will restore the piece of his soul that was lost."
"Yes sir!"
Abadriel was the first move, the others falling in behind him. Deacon flourished his revolvers and grinned as he easily sidestepped the first spear. He leaped high into the air avoiding the second and third angels as their spears collided in a cross formation where he'd been. Abadriel saw the opening from above, but Deacon had too, aiming a revolver at the exact spot above him where the angel appeared.
They locked eyes as Deacon fired off a round that connected only with Abadriel's afterimage.
The cowboy's attention turned left as one of the soldiers blinked into existence, spear at the ready. Without the ability to voidwalk or change direction in midair, Deacon seemed like a sitting duck for an aerial assault. Suddenly, his wings erupted from his back, flinging black ichor into the attacking angel's eyes. The assailant shut his eyes tightly and cried out in pain before disappearing.
In that same instant, another angel appeared on his right, attacking from his blindspot— or so he thought. The spear hummed as it raced toward its mark. Then Deacon did something unexpected. He snapped his attention toward the attacking angel and used his wings to alter his position just slightly. He took his finger off the trigger of his left revolver and guided the spear through the trigger loop, redirecting the attack away from his body.
The angel's eyes widened as Deacon crossed his right revolver under his armpit and squeezed the trigger. In a moment of sheer surprise, the celestial didn't think to let go of his weapon. Abadriel could only watch in horror as the angel fell to the ground, pieces of his body falling away like dust as he plummeted. Deacon landed in the pile of angelic ash and stared ahead at Abadriel as the two remaining soldiers regrouped behind their commander.
Abadriel gritted his teeth as he replayed in his mind what he'd just seen. The reflexes required to pull off a move like that... this went beyond the realm of an archdemon.
Deacon was an anomaly.
Finale
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/LunarHowler28
submitted by a15minutestory to A15MinuteMythos [link] [comments]
For to know death was an experience belonging to only a small family of angels. Those who were deemed worthy in their mortality to ascend to a greater being in the afterlife... and those who crossed Deacon Ezra Gallardo.
The revolvers he held at the ready, named Rennd & Serra, were well-known as two of the only weapons in all of existence that could kill an angel or a demon for good. Where the guns came from and how they were made; these secrets died with Deacon's father, their previous wielder. This was a battle with high stakes and one that Abadriel knew he couldn't avoid.
He was duty-bound to restore the nephilim's balance or die trying.
"Everyone," Abadriel addressed his angels telepathically; a radio signal he was certain Deacon couldn't tune into anymore. "I will attack first and I will strike alone."
"Commander," one of his soldiers was quick to protest.
"I will not hear dissent," Abadriel spoke sternly. "I created this monster. I will assume the risk that comes with striking first. What I expect you to do is accurately assess his reaction time. I want it in milliseconds. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," came the collective answer.
"Watch closely, everyone."
Abadriel stared ahead, moving not a muscle. There was no sign nor signal that he was about to attack when he vanished from sight. In the same instant, he appeared behind the cowboy, thrusting his spear with expert form.
Deacon slid left, avoiding the strike, and whipped around without hesitation, firing a shot that ripped through the angelic smoke left behind when Abadriel voidwalked to safety. The crack of the revolver hung in the air as the cowboy turned and eyed Abadriel, who had rejoined his platoon.
The surprise on Deacon's face indicated to the rest of them that he was also dumbfounded by the speed of his own reaction. He turned to face the group again, looking down at his arms and turning them over. A smile spread across his face.
Abadriel furrowed his brow and swallowed. "That was fast," he addressed his soldiers. "Someone tell me how fast."
There was a long silence before someone finally spoke. "Sir... it was almost instantaneous," spoke the angel as if in a nihilistic trance. " 76 milliseconds. I would hazard a guess that it came to him as mere instinct."
Abadriel knew as well as the others what that meant.
"Sir. He's nearly as fast an archdemon," one of them cautioned. "Maybe we should call for backup."
But the commander knew better. If it were discovered what he had done here; what he had caused. He could be exiled from Heaven. It was a fate that he feared far more than nonexistence. He had to fix this and it couldn't wait. He watched Deacon hop around on his toes like a pugilist, a big smile on his face as he began to realize what he was capable of.
"Anyone who wishes to leave... go now," Abadriel commanded. "I will share this tomb with that winged creature if I must. But I will not run."
An uneasy silence fell among them. One angel vanished. Then another. Finally a third.
"Cowards," one of the remaining soldiers growled.
"Judge not lest ye be judged," Abadriel said calmly. "They calculated that they would only be a hindrance to us at best. I assume the three of you are prepared to fight alongside me."
"Sir," the three of them spoke in tandem.
"We're with you to the end, Captain," came reassuring words of loyalty.
"I'm fast without that other half shackling me down," called Deacon in a mocking jovial tone. "Startin' to think I'm better off without it, how 'bout you?"
"Everyone listen up," Abadriel commanded. "He will not wait around forever, so I'll make this as succinct as possible. I theorize that the angel in him was at odds with the demon in him. It made coordination difficult for him. His reflexes were great before, but now they're extraordinary. While he would, at times, accidentally voidwalk as the angels do... I strongly suspect he's incapable of that now."
"Faster and better coordinated Deacon?" one of the soldiers sighed.
"That's correct. We can safely assume that he won't disappear in front of our eyes... and we can also conclude that his ability to heal has left him also. So the damage we do will stick, at least in the short term. His demon-healing will be stronger, at least as effective as a normal demon's. So we have to finish this here. If we fall, he will be fully healed in a matter of hours."
"It may also take him some time to get used to his new agility," one of the soldiers piped up. "We should end this as soon as possible before he has time to acclimate."
"Agreed," said Abadriel. "On me. Cover one another's openings. Voidwalk as often as possible. We need him to expend all of his ammunition. As soon as his guns are empty, the tide of battle will swing dramatically in our favor. Do not aim to kill. We will hold him down and I will restore the piece of his soul that was lost."
"Yes sir!"
Abadriel was the first move, the others falling in behind him. Deacon flourished his revolvers and grinned as he easily sidestepped the first spear. He leaped high into the air avoiding the second and third angels as their spears collided in a cross formation where he'd been. Abadriel saw the opening from above, but Deacon had too, aiming a revolver at the exact spot above him where the angel appeared.
They locked eyes as Deacon fired off a round that connected only with Abadriel's afterimage.
The cowboy's attention turned left as one of the soldiers blinked into existence, spear at the ready. Without the ability to voidwalk or change direction in midair, Deacon seemed like a sitting duck for an aerial assault. Suddenly, his wings erupted from his back, flinging black ichor into the attacking angel's eyes. The assailant shut his eyes tightly and cried out in pain before disappearing.
In that same instant, another angel appeared on his right, attacking from his blindspot— or so he thought. The spear hummed as it raced toward its mark. Then Deacon did something unexpected. He snapped his attention toward the attacking angel and used his wings to alter his position just slightly. He took his finger off the trigger of his left revolver and guided the spear through the trigger loop, redirecting the attack away from his body.
The angel's eyes widened as Deacon crossed his right revolver under his armpit and squeezed the trigger. In a moment of sheer surprise, the celestial didn't think to let go of his weapon. Abadriel could only watch in horror as the angel fell to the ground, pieces of his body falling away like dust as he plummeted. Deacon landed in the pile of angelic ash and stared ahead at Abadriel as the two remaining soldiers regrouped behind their commander.
Abadriel gritted his teeth as he replayed in his mind what he'd just seen. The reflexes required to pull off a move like that... this went beyond the realm of an archdemon.
Deacon was an anomaly.
Finale
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/LunarHowler28
2024.02.20 21:18 dianasaur73 Am I injured or is this soreness normal?
Before anything, I checked out the linked article on this topic and I've taken it into account, but I still feel uneasy and want to ask people for their opinions. Basically I want to ask if you all think I may be injured before I take up a valuable GP appointment to get it checked lol.
So, I (16F) recently started going to the gym and did my first arm day two days ago, and my arms are still beyond sore. It's been about 56 hours. The areas that are particularly noteworthy are kinda my elbow area, but not the elbow itself, more the inside of it. The inward-facing part. Like. Do you know what I mean? And the muscle kinda near your armpits but on the back. Like that area that bulges out massively when you see some people flex their arms.
On the day of the workout, the pain settled in pretty quickly. But my entire upper arm and part of my back was hurting, but my triceps and SOME of my back (apart from the areas aforementioned) are fine now. Like my arms, at rest by my sides, don't "lock" at the elbows as they normally do, they're kind of just bent at a slight angle which isn't ordinary for me. They're still like that. Additionally, when I raise my arms straight above my head, that part of my back I mentioned before absolutely kills (but it's not too hard to overcome).
Yesterday, it hurt pretty badly. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being "a little pinch and the pain disappears permanently within a few seconds" and 10 being "I am genuinely going to die within the next few business days" it's probably a solid 5 right now, it's very noticeable and quite distracting. And annoying. It hasn't gotten any better since yesterday. I didn't exercise basically at all prior to starting workouts at the gym if it means anything.
Is this normal or should I be worried? I did three sets of each the following exercises, all to failure: - Lat pull downs (18kg?) - One arm dumbbell rowing (6kg) - Tricep overhead extension (7kg) - Cable curls (11kg?) - Cable pressdown (probably 11kg too)
TLDR: Never worked out before, first arm day, my arms hurt pretty noticeably and annoyingly 56 hours after, are any of these risky exercises and perhaps the reason my arms hurt so much? Is there something I've missed or is this normal for a first arm day? Thanks in advance for any consideration or thoughts you're willing to share.
submitted by dianasaur73 to beginnerfitness [link] [comments]
So, I (16F) recently started going to the gym and did my first arm day two days ago, and my arms are still beyond sore. It's been about 56 hours. The areas that are particularly noteworthy are kinda my elbow area, but not the elbow itself, more the inside of it. The inward-facing part. Like. Do you know what I mean? And the muscle kinda near your armpits but on the back. Like that area that bulges out massively when you see some people flex their arms.
On the day of the workout, the pain settled in pretty quickly. But my entire upper arm and part of my back was hurting, but my triceps and SOME of my back (apart from the areas aforementioned) are fine now. Like my arms, at rest by my sides, don't "lock" at the elbows as they normally do, they're kind of just bent at a slight angle which isn't ordinary for me. They're still like that. Additionally, when I raise my arms straight above my head, that part of my back I mentioned before absolutely kills (but it's not too hard to overcome).
Yesterday, it hurt pretty badly. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being "a little pinch and the pain disappears permanently within a few seconds" and 10 being "I am genuinely going to die within the next few business days" it's probably a solid 5 right now, it's very noticeable and quite distracting. And annoying. It hasn't gotten any better since yesterday. I didn't exercise basically at all prior to starting workouts at the gym if it means anything.
Is this normal or should I be worried? I did three sets of each the following exercises, all to failure: - Lat pull downs (18kg?) - One arm dumbbell rowing (6kg) - Tricep overhead extension (7kg) - Cable curls (11kg?) - Cable pressdown (probably 11kg too)
TLDR: Never worked out before, first arm day, my arms hurt pretty noticeably and annoyingly 56 hours after, are any of these risky exercises and perhaps the reason my arms hurt so much? Is there something I've missed or is this normal for a first arm day? Thanks in advance for any consideration or thoughts you're willing to share.
2024.01.30 03:27 TTV_Bravestbunch The Hole
I was a plumbing apprentice for four years. At first, I liked it well enough; the days flew by, I was usually doing something different and interesting, and I was in the best shape of my life. Mostly, I did new construction, with the occasional dabble into commercial service during the lulls between projects. Service was actually the worst. There was one incident where I worked two days back-to-back, 19 and 21 hour shifts, to finish this sink reno before September long weekend.
The surreal thing about those long overnight hauls was that as a construction worker, you were meant to be a ghost. Nobody was to see you, nobody was to hear you, and you sure as hell weren’t allowed to leave any trace once you were done. The only people we’d speak with were building operators, or the occasional security guard to check in and out of the buildings. Our company actually had a rule where we were only allowed to look at shoppers for two seconds at a time.
There was an incident on one of those shitty service gigs that I can’t shake, that I can’t move past. I should see a therapist, but I can’t bring myself to cross that bridge, so instead I sit, mooching off my parents in their basement, after I couldn’t keep up with the rent of my apartment. I’ve been putting out resumes for nearly a year after the fact, trying in vain to get anything that wasn’t construction, but with no luck. My parents are on me about getting back into trades - the money was fantastic after all - but I can’t. Every time they push me, I tell them the same things: I’m worried about the silica dust, and I don’t want to be crippled by 60. Technically, these are both true, but not the truth.
Like I said, I’m not willing to talk about this sort of thing with a shrink, or my parents, or even my girlfriend at the time (who is now my beautiful wife); but, maybe I can manage to get this weight off my chest with the anonymity of Reddit - I have to try, anyway. Bear with me, I’ll try to keep the ranting to a minimum.
For a while, I was working at an Amazon data center. It was a decent site, apart from the fifty minute drive to work and the gung-ho drywallers. Unrelated, but interesting factoid about this data center, was that Amazon built it using a shell company based out of Quebec. They had the wildest specifications I’ve ever seen in my life; I’m talking platinum lined hot water tanks that took legitimately four months to ship. There were at least a dozen updated versions of the blueprints, and we’d have to tear out pipe that we installed months ago to adjust to the latest drawings.
It was during one of these changes that the mechanical division of the site was stripped down to a skeleton crew for a month. Me and another apprentice, a 4th year we’ll call Dave, were sent to work under a notoriously poor foreman who exclusively ran shitty jobs, no pun intended. I’d worked with Dave previously, I remember the guys hazing him about his teeth, which had a handful of silver caps, they used to call it his grill. The foreman had this job set up at the largest mall in the city. Some of the drainage in the crawl space beneath the food court had corroded to paper thinness, and they decided that they wanted to convert the entire system from cast iron pipes to longer lasting XFR.
I met Dave there on the first night, as the most senior apprentice, he’d be in charge. There was another guy with him, I’m not sure if he bothered getting indentured or not (he was on a waiting list for an aeronautics apprenticeship in the military, from what I recall), we’ll call him Seok. I’d worked with Seok before on a maintenance gig at an Amazon distribution center (they’re insane if you ever get the chance to see the inside of one).
Every night, starting at 10pm, we’d put our tools and material in an unused storefront that had been gutted, but never repurposed. It was sectioned off with construction fencing, inside one of the mall entrances, and was accessible through a similarly cordoned off exterior entrance. Security never locked this particular entrance, though I don’t know if it was to give us access to the mall, or out of sheer compliant laziness. The place we set up shop was a TD bank in another life (another life being somewhere between five to ten years earlier).
After completing our first walkaround of the bank, we were thoroughly unimpressed. The tic-tac office cubbies were still full of stacked chairs and desks, but covered in a blanket of dust. There were two rooms with shattered glass panels that had clearly been slept in. Broken needles and bundles of filthy rags plugged the corners of these rooms like filthy nests, and they stayed vacant for the entire month we were there. No idea what happened to the folks who slept there. The only saving grace was that I had the chance to take a look at the huge vault door that they’d left hanging open. So, I guess all in all the experience evens out.
Once we’d stored our tools, we headed to the security office to check in for the night, and meet with the building operator who had organized the job in question. The guy was nice enough, and checking in with security killed a good twenty minutes of the night, due to the meandering guards. Afterward, we took an elevator up to the food court on the second floor and he walked us into an employee’s only area, between a Thai Express and a KFC.
Behind the storefronts was a long, narrow corridor with doors that accessed five or six of the restaurants from the rear. Overnights, the mall shut off the main lights, and left on these auxiliary fluorescents that only gave off enough light to keep a janitor from an easy legal settlement. There were two access panels in the hallway, they were around eighteen inches square and made of this bent steel plate that we had to pry up with a flathead. On top of the two entrances in the hallway, there were also access panels in Thai Express and KFC. After the building operator was done showing us all the spots where we could get beneath the food court, he left us to our work.
We grabbed our tools and hauled the XFR pipe, fittings, and glue upstairs to the hallway that we’d be living in for the next month. When we actually pried open these hatches, we weren’t impressed, Dave in particular. What you should know about Dave is that he was a dramatic guy, prone to bouts of pessimism and grumbling. I’m embarrassed to say that we sometimes joked about me being his suicide watch on jobsites.
The hatches revealed a step down that would bring the hallway floor up to our hips, but one in particular was half obstructed by a steel beam that cut right through the center of it (I’ll include a couple pictures I took). We had to squeeze past the beam onto our knees, then crawl backward in order to actually get down onto our bellies. Between the structural beams, the space was ok, allowing you to scoot along on your hands and knees if you minded your back, but to get between these spaces, you needed to squirm beneath the beams, which we measured to be anywhere between a twelve and eight inch gap, depending on which one we tried to get under. By exhaling and wiggling my way through, I could just manage to squeeze through a ten inch gap. This was good news, because that meant we couldn’t actually access a quarter of the space, meaning we didn’t have to swap those pipes out.
Pictures of the hole: https://imgur.com/a/Vg7yP8O
The thing about these holes is, technically speaking, they qualified as a confined space, which none of us were trained to work inside. If you aren’t familiar, a confined space is an area with limited ability to move in and out. The foreman in charge got around this by calling it an interstitial space, a term which I’d never heard before. All I knew is that crawling into that dark, filthy crawl space was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
The dread I felt peering into that hole is difficult to properly explain, like, subconsciously I knew that no matter what term they used to define that hole, I wanted nothing to do with it. Dave had a habit of calling things like this ‘ignorant’, which I don’t think is quite the right term, but I agreed with the sentiment.
To make things worse, a few members of the night staff were creepy as hell. There was this one guy in particular that kept trying to climb into the hole with us, like, we physically had to stop him from diving in. I don’t know what was going on in that guy's personal life, but someone should probably check up on him. There was another janitor who would watch us from around a corner while we worked. Occasionally, when we climbed out of the hole, something would feel off, and we’d look over and see this guy peeking around the corner at us, like something out of The Grudge.
On a particularly ‘ignorant’ day, Dave asked the guy what the hell his problem was. The janitor didn’t say a word, just kept staring, his mop clutched in his hand like a spear. I have no idea what his problem was, but the general vibe was that we were unwelcome, that this was their place, and we were somehow offending them by being there. Mostly, we tried to keep our heads down.
It took a while, but we eventually settled into a routine. I would crawl ahead and dismantle the fittings and reinstall the new stuff (I was the only one willing to do this part), Dave would be behind me, in the next space over, telephoning cut lengths from me to Seok, who would be waiting outside the hole with a sawzall to cut the XFR to size (and to make sure no custodian stepped into the hole in their nightly daze). At minimum, we needed to cut the lengths in half, as we could only jam a six foot piece down the hole at the most, and only then if we persuaded it with our feet.
This entire time we were suited up in disposable Tyvek suits and oversized plastic gloves that made it look like your hands were melting. Crawling across the floor of the crawl space would coat your belly in black, rancid grease that smelt like shit and bring you within kissing distance of several mummified mice (one was so petrified that we thought it was a lizard skeleton at first, we named it Riley), so we ended up rolling sheets of poly down the spaces to cut down on the stickage. More than once, if one of us weren’t quite on the plastic sheet, we’d have to peel an elbow or knee off the floor with this disgusting stretchy squelching sound.
We also realized that these crawl spaces were full of abandoned construction material, rusted tools, and consumables. Whoever had been in the space last hadn’t wasted any time crawling out when things were wrapped up, apparently, if they’d even finished their job. Most peculiar was this heap of rags that marinated some twenty feet away from us. It wasn’t accessible just yet, but more on that later.
The first few days passed without any real incident, past bellyaching and a sinus infection. It wasn’t even an hour into the shift in question, when things took a turn. I was deep in the hole beneath the KFC, pushing some of my tools in front of me in a painter's tray, as my tool bag wouldn’t fit beneath the beams. I was dragging a rechargeable work-light (same one as in the pictures), using it to scout for dead mice and protruding nails in my path. The whole place smelt like burnt grease and the air tasted like dust when you made the mistake of breathing.
As I reached the P-trap I’d be cutting out, the light went out.
Now, at this point, I wasn’t really afraid so much as I was pissed off. Cursing, I shouted back to the hole for Dave to bring me his light. The strangest thing was that the battery indicator told me that the light had a full charge, but for whatever reason it wouldn’t turn back on, no matter how angrily I pressed the switch.
I laid there in the dark, like a corpse in a coffin, on my back, hands clasped on my stomach as I waited for the replacement light. I was uneasy, in an irrational way. There was an undeniable shiver creeping into my bones, the type you get when you have a fever, when you’re lying there soaked through in your own sweat, and your body feels wrong, that chill that doesn’t go away when you squirm beneath the blankets.
There was a sound. Like the muffled sigh of laundry being slowly poured from a hamper. My skin was prickling with goosebumps and my breath caught somewhere in my chest. I felt that same offness that I felt when I could sense the Peeking Janitor was nearby, but hadn’t yet been seen. The offness of being observed.
This smell had taken to the air, like decaying meat. I could hear a wet shuffling, the same sound I heard when we crawled around. And breathing. Like the panting of a dog in heat.
I don’t know what sort of yelp or shout I made, but I do remember it sticking in my throat on the way out. I felt like I’d been doused in ice cold water, the sharp twist of fear shot from my heart to my boys, who puckered so hard that for one long second I may have been an innie instead of an outie.
Light flooded the crawl space from the panel, as Dave lowered himself into the hole with a dramatic groan. As the light washed over me, I could see that apart from Dave, I was alone. When I borrowed the light from him, I remember craning my neck, trying to peer beneath the beams into the adjacent spaces. The only thing that stuck out to me was that mysterious pile of crusty rags, just a few spaces over.
There’s two things you never admit when you’re working in trades: first, you never admit that the crew left an hour early on Friday to go for drinks, second, you never admit that you’re afraid. When Dave quizzed me on the shout, I lied through my teeth. I wish I could go back and confess the truth, but we’re way past that point now. Too little, too late.
Now that I was hyperalert, I kept a wary eye on the rag-pile while I worked - and kept my hand sledge with me at all times. I became aware of this feeling in this space that I’d overlooked before, it felt like disdain, or maybe irritation. The closest feeling I can think to compare it to is when you’re walking on eggshells around someone with a temper, the feeling that one wrong move could set off the powderkeg.
A few hours after what I’m going to tentatively call my first encounter with the entity, I was beginning to try to rationalize the experience in my head. I remember sitting on a broken milkcrate in that hallway, drinking one of those Monster’s that came in that canister-looking container, trying to process what it is that happened. I was a pretty skeptical guy at the time, so I was exploring the possibility that I’d imagined the sound, or that it had belonged to something mechanical, like maybe one of the walk-in freezers that Thai Express had overhead. The only thing that was keeping me from fully embracing that theory, was that my light had started working again.
Dave had passed my light up from the hole to Seok, to have a look at, and from what I heard it had turned on the second it had left the hole. At the time, I got past this by reminding myself that they were fairly cheap lights, given to us as a peace offering by the foreman. It was certainly possible that it had just shit out on us for a few minutes, not that that is the prevailing theory in my head these days.
Around two in the morning, we sealed up the hole and went down for a smoke (I don’t smoke myself, so by smoke, I mean I stood out in the cold with Dave while he smoked). We’d usually do some people watching at this point, but it was a quiet night for the crazies. Seok came at two to two too (sorry), to join us for a few minutes of fresh air before we headed back, carrying a length of XFR pipe each up the stalled escalators to the food court.
When I crawled back into the hole, I realized our lights were missing. During breaks, we kept what tools we had sealed up in the hole, so that nobody could get at them, which until now hadn’t been a problem. Dave, as expected, was spitting mad, and ready to pack up for the night, which neither I nor Seok had any qualms with.
Not wanting to exacerbate the situation, I didn’t mention the Peeking Janitor watching us from around his corner, chin tucked against his chest and eyes twinkling in the shadow of his cap.
The next day, we had fresh lights. Dave had called up our foreman, who had begrudgingly dropped us off a few more. The foreman wasn’t thrilled with our progress, mind you his original work estimate was one week of overnight work, which wouldn’t have been possible in a million years, but nevertheless the fire had been lit and excuses would fall on deaf, self-righteous ears.
Dave was vocally suspicious of the custodians to anyone who would listen, and at the time I was willing to believe it myself. There was really nobody else in the area who had access to the holes. It could easily be the man who kept trying to climb into the hole with us, with a vacant, too-large smile plastered across his face, or the Peeking Janitor, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere to glare at us from around his corner and never seemed to do any actual janitor-ing.
Regardless, we were back in the hole, and making good headway. We had been taking our lights and tools down with us on breaks, to keep them accounted for, which seemed to do the trick. By the end of the week, we were done with what we could manage from that particular hole, and moved onto the next one, which was further down the hallway. It was also the one that contained that mysterious heap of rags.
This entrance was the worst, by far, a structural beam cut across it, nearly dividing the access by half. We had to squeeze in, feet first, and worm our way backward to get past the beam. The space also had the least overhead (overback?) space. When we’d crawl around on our hands and knees, we’d get prodded by exposed screws in the q-deck ceiling. There were racks of conduit snaking all over, which I ended up needing to wiggle my way over to get around. Some areas were so tight, I remember that I had to crawl out backwards to get free, as there was no room to turn around once I was wedged inside.
If I was feeling unwelcome in the first hole, I was feeling downright vulnerable in this one. It felt like I was in deep trouble with somebody, and they were in the middle of chewing me out. This hole was colder than the other, somehow, even though both lead to the same overall area, it was like descending into an ice bath.
That rag pile was accessible now, but looking at it gave me this jolt of anxiety, of grim anticipation - instinctually, I didn’t want to go near it. So, naturally, I put it off until the very end. I squirmed over to the furthest corner, away from the rag pile to take stock of which fittings and how much pipe we’d need to carry to get us through the remainder of the night. It was at this point I got another nasty surprise.
Our old lights were here, stuffed into the corner.
There was a jab of terrible disbelief in my gut as I laid there, breath misting faintly before my eyes. All three of the lights were still completely intact, as far as I could tell, but their surface was tacky with a transparent film. It was the consistency of cold syrup. Cradling them in my arm as best as I could, I made my way back to the entrance as quickly as I could. It was at this point, my light began to act up. The closer I squirmed to the hole, the dimmer my light became. It had begun to flicker by the time I’d reached the hole; I could hear that strange gasping again, and the shuffle of rags, not ten feet away from me; Cold adrenaline was pumping through me at this point as I hurled the lights from the hole, and began to push my way out. At waist level, I felt the hand.
I shouted as it dragged me backward sharply, ripping my suit on the edge of the hole, and twisting my foot sharply, nearly to the breaking point, my lower back seized from the sudden yank, where my body had snagged on the hole. I caught the edges of the hole with my arms, bracing by my armpits as it pulled again, sending another painful ripple shooting through my back and leg. Dave and Seok, now concerned, grabbed hold of me and wrenched me out of the hole together. It dropped me.
I scrambled back from the hole, nursing my back with the palm of my hand, gasping and recoiling in pain. The metallic tang of blood lingered in my mouth - I’d bit my tongue when I’d been yanked backward. Despite Dave’s insistence that I’d just gotten caught on something, I stormed off, grabbed my tools and limped home, leaving Seok and Dave to deal with the hole alone.
When I got home, I checked myself in the mirror as best as I could. Already, an ugly purple welt had formed on my lower back, where I’d been thrashed against the side of the hole. This particular injury ended up bothering me for months after the fact. It felt like I was constantly holding my breath, afraid to move. I’d started squatting instead of bending over to avoid the fireworks of pain that would erupt at seemingly a moment's notice. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a lower back injury, but it’s some of the worst physical pain that you can experience. My knee, on the other hand, had swollen up and was tender to walk on, but the worst of it subsided overnight.
The next day, the foreman called me, chewing me out for walking away the night before, which Dave had faithfully ratted me out for the moment I’d left. I told him that I wasn’t going back in that hole, that he’d need to send me to a different jobsite. That prick flatout refused, distinctly telling me to suck it up, and that I’d better get back to the mall or start looking for another job. I wish I could say that I’d stood my ground and told him to go fuck himself, but I’d just moved into my first apartment ever - hell, I wasn’t even properly moved in yet, I still slept on a mattress on the floor. I knew that I didn’t have enough money in reserve for rent if I didn’t have some form of work. Caught between the threat of losing the apartment and the prospect of climbing into the hole again, I caved, on the condition that I would be the one cutting material outside of the hole.
That night, I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot, beside Seok and Dave’s vehicles, where we usually met before the shift. Truthfully, I was slightly late and wasn’t surprised to see that their vehicles were already empty. Gingerly, I carried my tools to our lockup, in the vacant bank, dropped them off, and hurried to check-in.
When I got to security, I ended up getting an earful from the on-duty guard, a severe-looking woman in her sixties, with gray hair and an impressively long philtrum. Dave and Seok had forgotten to close the panel when they’d left last night. Furthermore, they’d left material in the back hallway - a serious no-no in service. After assuring her several times that I’d left early that night, but would inform the guys, I escaped up the elevator and headed to the back hallway.
I was nervous, to say the least, not just because of whatever was happening in that hole, but because I wasn’t great with conflict in general. Already, my stomach was churning and my mind racing with excuses and ways to defuse the awkwardness of the incoming dialogue. I settled on breaking the ice with a good-natured jab about them leaving their tools out, although I’m sure Dave already had gotten an earful from our foreman after he’d gotten home. The good thing about Dave was that he cooled off quickly, Seok on the other hand didn’t care to begin with.
In the hallway, they’d resealed the panel and pushed our pipe against the side of the hallway, the bare minimum distance they needed to clear the hallways. Dave’s packout was already backed against the wall, and unlocked, but neither he, nor Seok were anywhere to be seen.
A dread crept over me, clenching my chest in its icy fist.
I pulled out my phone. Pacing, I punched Dave’s number into my phone, trying to fight the spindly goosebumps working their way up my spine. The call tone sounded twice, then I heard it.
The muffled tone was faint, and eerily chipper - and coming from the hole.
I remember staring at that hole long after the ringing stopped, holding my breath as it went to voicemail. I had to do something. Heart racing, I sidled up to Dave’s toolbox, and extracted a flathead screwdriver. I’d call emergency services - once I was certain. Summoning what courage I could, I stabbed the flathead beneath the panel, and lifted it clear.
It was too dark to make out much from outside. I called out Dave’s name, as loudly as I dared. Moments passed at a snail's pace, and just as relief started to flood through me, I heard Dave’s blood curdling howl. I still hear it sometimes, as if it’s a part of me now.
“HELP! I’M STUCK, I’M FUCKING STUCK.” Dave’s voice was pained and frantic, as if he were fighting back tears - it scared the hell out of me.
Every instinct was screaming at me - begging me - to stay away from the hole, to run as far as I could and never look back, but I couldn’t leave him there. If it were me stuck in the hole, I’d want to get out ASAP, there was no telling how long he’d been down there - maybe since last night. At that moment, all reason flooded out of me like a glass of prune juice.
If I hadn’t made this one decision, I’d still probably be able to sleep at night. I’d be able to take my eyes off the shadows. There wouldn’t be any panic attacks. In short, I’d still be myself. But, I made the choice to go in after Dave.
I squeezed into the hole, gasping as my back protested the maneuver, holding the flathead close, like a dagger. The flashlight on my phone wasn’t great, but it was enough to work with. Swiveling it around, I scanned the crawl space, pulse pounding in my ears; That unwelcoming aura was back, and it poured over me as I searched for my Dave or Seok.
“Dave, where are you?” I called out, starting at the sputter of my own voice.
“HELP!”
I jumped, the voice felt distant, oddly distant in the crawlspace, so I made the split second decision to make my way over to the ominous pile of rags, as quickly as I could, as it was the only thing large enough to keep Dave or Seok out of my line of sight. I felt like I was army crawling across a field of molasses, the grease pulled at my clothes and clung to the skin of my wrists like oil paint on canvas.
The crawl to the pile felt like a heartbeat. Adrenaline spurred me beneath the narrow structural beams quicker than I’d ever managed before, and I was soaked in sweat and grease by the time I reached it, gagging as the smell overwhelmed my senses, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit as the saliva thickened in my mouth like paste. Trembling, I started to claw through the pile of rags. No, at this point I knew it wasn’t a pile of rags - it was a pile of clothes, clothes that were matted down into a stiff, malignant mass, that held their shape as I peeled them off, despite being saturated with grease.
I felt my fingers brush against something hard inside the pile, pinching it, I wrenched the object free and examined it under the dim light from my phone.
It was a tooth, still tacky with blood and capped with silver. Dave’s tooth. I threw up.
My body shuddered as I vomited again and again, spilling my stomach’s contents over that pile of rags, my back curling like a cat. I could feel my stomach acid spill into my throat, burning me, choking me to the point of tears, and flooding out my and down my face.
“HELP! I’M STUCK, I’M FUCKING STUCK.”
It grabbed me roughly by the boots and yanked me hard away from the rags, helped by the wet layer of grease coating the ground. By some miracle, I got jammed beneath a structural beam that I was too big to fit beneath; it pulled me relentlessly, and as I managed a hoarse scream that’s tone soured in my throat, my chest fell and slipped me inch by inch further beneath the beam, wrenching the breath from my lungs; My head was spinning, I couldn’t draw breath and I flailed my feet frantically, kicking and pushing with everything I had, eyes cloudy with tears.
The excited breathing returned, I could hear the giddy thing, barely able to contain itself. There was a sharp croak as my feet slipped from my work boots, and the thing was thrown backward; wrapping my hands around a P-Trap, I yanked with all my might, worming myself out of the gap, kicking my knees frantically into the ground for traction. There was a snap as the pipe broke, spraying me with cold chunks of black decomposed food, but I’d gotten myself loose enough to make a break for the panel, praying to God that I had enough time to squeeze out of the hole.
I could hear the thing skittering across the floor behind me, impossibly fast, each time it lifted one of its limbs, the semi-dried grease ripped like thin cotton. It was on me as I was nearing the light, desperately, I managed to whirl onto my back, losing my phone in the whirl of motion; It’s hands were iron around my neck, and it slammed me against the ground, cackling in delight, my vision darkened and tunneled as I stared in horror at it, my dizzy brain trying to make sense of it. I saw two beaks, but where the eyes should have been. It’s limbs were spindly, impossibly long and taught with pale skin, and it’s laughing mouth was wide and filled with needle-like teeth, black like obsidian and dripping with viscous spittle, its long, filthy nails dug into my throat as it squeezed my soft neck nearly into pulp, wringing it like water from a wet towel.
I swung my arm hard at whatever it was, gripping the screwdriver for dear life, my mind screaming that they would never find my body, that my girlfriend would never know what happened to me, my family would wonder where I’d gone. On the second jab, I felt the flathead bite hard into where its ear would have been, soaking my hand in foaming blood, the howl it let out was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life, it made my ears ring and my stomach churn, my heart hurt like hell as it pounded away in my chest, and I thought I was going to have a literal heart attack just a few meters from salvation.
It loosened its grip enough for me to shove it free with my legs, losing Dave’s screwdriver in the process. I scrambled to the entrance and wormed my way through the opening, my back was in excruciating pain so hot I could barely keep my eyes from rolling back in my head, and my throat was wracked with a sputtering cough that made my head ache. As I clamored out, I realized I wasn’t covered in grease like I’d thought - I was covered in blood.
A hand shot out the hole, swinging, grabbing and searching for me, the thing pressing itself hard against the opening in pursuit. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, racing for the exit by the dim auxiliary lighting, listening to the thing pry itself from the hatch behind me, screaming furiously at me as I pushed my way through the swinging doors, slipping on the blood coating the bottom of my bare socks and nearly losing my footing in what would have been a fatal fall. The doors burst open again behind me, punctuated by the hyena-esque laughter as it pursued, on all fours from the sounds of it, its long nails scrabbling against the tiles of the food court like a charging wolf, skittering and sliding with its impossible gangly long limbs, its breath was ragged, seeping with fury - with hunger. As I reached the escalators, I barreled down, nearly spilling down in my haste. I heard it hesitate at the top before charging after me - I could smell its rancid scent bearing down on me.
I made for the bank, exploding through the construction fencing and throwing open the glass doors, with the thing hot on my heels, biting, scratching, and howling with laughter. Broken glass bit into my socks, into the soles of my feet, adding my own blood to the cocktail, as I pounded through the debris into the dark of the bank, a plan formulating in my mind. It was just behind me, I could practically feel its hot, stagnant breath on the back of my neck, and with one last burst of adrenaline, I charged into the empty vault and yanked in shut, but it wouldn’t close, it stuck, jammed on one of its horrible, pale hands. I could see it’s rotten nails squeezing the vault door, fresh flesh peaking out from near the cuticles, and jagged like crumpled paper; I jammed my foot against the wall and pulled hard, my back howled in pain and my vision went black, there was a deafening squeal as the door shifted, then -
Silence.
I don’t know how long I was in that vault for, waiting for that thing to get inside and throttle me to death. By all rights, I should have died in that vault, but security had found my bloody footprints on one of their walkthroughs and traced it to the vault. When they got it open, I was looking at some unimpressed police officers, and the woman from the security desk.
The next two weeks were absolute hell for me, and I don’t think I slept for more than a sporadic hour or two at night. I had a laundry list of meetings: interrogations, evaluations, interviews, and the like. By the end of it all, I was more tired than I’d ever been in my life. The cops hadn’t found anything in the crawlspace, except for the hoarded clothing and Dave’s remains, although I don’t know how long they actually looked for. They never found out what happened to Seok’s remains.
I ended up laid off, due to the murder accusations that were being flung around by the press, as well as Seok’s family. I had to meet with the property manager at the condo about my missed payment, and everyone I knew was bombarding me with questions about what had happened that night.
It was during this stretch that I was seriously questioning my mental state. I slipped into some of the worst depression I’ve ever experienced: I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t washing, and every shadow looked like it was gunning for me - and the guilt - the guilt was the worst part. I could have stopped both of them from going down into that hole, the night I stormed off. But I didn’t. The thought haunts me day in and day out, and I can’t tell another soul, except for you, hiding behind this username.
The most troubling thing for me has been the missing thing, whatever it was. No trace had ever turned up of it, that I’m aware of. The last I’d seen of it, it was in the abandoned bank. As much as I hated the thought, it could have gone anywhere from there. It could be miles away, it could have set up shop in the boiler room beneath the bank, or more irrationally, I find myself wondering if it could have my scent, somehow.
All I know, Reddit user, is that as I write this message to you, the doors are locked, the curtains drawn, and a hammer close at hand. I don’t think I’ll ever get back to where I was, but this has been nice - it’s been reassuring to picture you as a friendly ear, nodding and watching me tell my story, as unbelievable as it is.
So, in closing, thanks. You’ve helped me keep the darkness at bay for just a little bit longer, and I’ve managed to work through some of my tangled thoughts. Take care.
submitted by TTV_Bravestbunch to nosleep [link] [comments]
The surreal thing about those long overnight hauls was that as a construction worker, you were meant to be a ghost. Nobody was to see you, nobody was to hear you, and you sure as hell weren’t allowed to leave any trace once you were done. The only people we’d speak with were building operators, or the occasional security guard to check in and out of the buildings. Our company actually had a rule where we were only allowed to look at shoppers for two seconds at a time.
There was an incident on one of those shitty service gigs that I can’t shake, that I can’t move past. I should see a therapist, but I can’t bring myself to cross that bridge, so instead I sit, mooching off my parents in their basement, after I couldn’t keep up with the rent of my apartment. I’ve been putting out resumes for nearly a year after the fact, trying in vain to get anything that wasn’t construction, but with no luck. My parents are on me about getting back into trades - the money was fantastic after all - but I can’t. Every time they push me, I tell them the same things: I’m worried about the silica dust, and I don’t want to be crippled by 60. Technically, these are both true, but not the truth.
Like I said, I’m not willing to talk about this sort of thing with a shrink, or my parents, or even my girlfriend at the time (who is now my beautiful wife); but, maybe I can manage to get this weight off my chest with the anonymity of Reddit - I have to try, anyway. Bear with me, I’ll try to keep the ranting to a minimum.
For a while, I was working at an Amazon data center. It was a decent site, apart from the fifty minute drive to work and the gung-ho drywallers. Unrelated, but interesting factoid about this data center, was that Amazon built it using a shell company based out of Quebec. They had the wildest specifications I’ve ever seen in my life; I’m talking platinum lined hot water tanks that took legitimately four months to ship. There were at least a dozen updated versions of the blueprints, and we’d have to tear out pipe that we installed months ago to adjust to the latest drawings.
It was during one of these changes that the mechanical division of the site was stripped down to a skeleton crew for a month. Me and another apprentice, a 4th year we’ll call Dave, were sent to work under a notoriously poor foreman who exclusively ran shitty jobs, no pun intended. I’d worked with Dave previously, I remember the guys hazing him about his teeth, which had a handful of silver caps, they used to call it his grill. The foreman had this job set up at the largest mall in the city. Some of the drainage in the crawl space beneath the food court had corroded to paper thinness, and they decided that they wanted to convert the entire system from cast iron pipes to longer lasting XFR.
I met Dave there on the first night, as the most senior apprentice, he’d be in charge. There was another guy with him, I’m not sure if he bothered getting indentured or not (he was on a waiting list for an aeronautics apprenticeship in the military, from what I recall), we’ll call him Seok. I’d worked with Seok before on a maintenance gig at an Amazon distribution center (they’re insane if you ever get the chance to see the inside of one).
Every night, starting at 10pm, we’d put our tools and material in an unused storefront that had been gutted, but never repurposed. It was sectioned off with construction fencing, inside one of the mall entrances, and was accessible through a similarly cordoned off exterior entrance. Security never locked this particular entrance, though I don’t know if it was to give us access to the mall, or out of sheer compliant laziness. The place we set up shop was a TD bank in another life (another life being somewhere between five to ten years earlier).
After completing our first walkaround of the bank, we were thoroughly unimpressed. The tic-tac office cubbies were still full of stacked chairs and desks, but covered in a blanket of dust. There were two rooms with shattered glass panels that had clearly been slept in. Broken needles and bundles of filthy rags plugged the corners of these rooms like filthy nests, and they stayed vacant for the entire month we were there. No idea what happened to the folks who slept there. The only saving grace was that I had the chance to take a look at the huge vault door that they’d left hanging open. So, I guess all in all the experience evens out.
Once we’d stored our tools, we headed to the security office to check in for the night, and meet with the building operator who had organized the job in question. The guy was nice enough, and checking in with security killed a good twenty minutes of the night, due to the meandering guards. Afterward, we took an elevator up to the food court on the second floor and he walked us into an employee’s only area, between a Thai Express and a KFC.
Behind the storefronts was a long, narrow corridor with doors that accessed five or six of the restaurants from the rear. Overnights, the mall shut off the main lights, and left on these auxiliary fluorescents that only gave off enough light to keep a janitor from an easy legal settlement. There were two access panels in the hallway, they were around eighteen inches square and made of this bent steel plate that we had to pry up with a flathead. On top of the two entrances in the hallway, there were also access panels in Thai Express and KFC. After the building operator was done showing us all the spots where we could get beneath the food court, he left us to our work.
We grabbed our tools and hauled the XFR pipe, fittings, and glue upstairs to the hallway that we’d be living in for the next month. When we actually pried open these hatches, we weren’t impressed, Dave in particular. What you should know about Dave is that he was a dramatic guy, prone to bouts of pessimism and grumbling. I’m embarrassed to say that we sometimes joked about me being his suicide watch on jobsites.
The hatches revealed a step down that would bring the hallway floor up to our hips, but one in particular was half obstructed by a steel beam that cut right through the center of it (I’ll include a couple pictures I took). We had to squeeze past the beam onto our knees, then crawl backward in order to actually get down onto our bellies. Between the structural beams, the space was ok, allowing you to scoot along on your hands and knees if you minded your back, but to get between these spaces, you needed to squirm beneath the beams, which we measured to be anywhere between a twelve and eight inch gap, depending on which one we tried to get under. By exhaling and wiggling my way through, I could just manage to squeeze through a ten inch gap. This was good news, because that meant we couldn’t actually access a quarter of the space, meaning we didn’t have to swap those pipes out.
Pictures of the hole: https://imgur.com/a/Vg7yP8O
The thing about these holes is, technically speaking, they qualified as a confined space, which none of us were trained to work inside. If you aren’t familiar, a confined space is an area with limited ability to move in and out. The foreman in charge got around this by calling it an interstitial space, a term which I’d never heard before. All I knew is that crawling into that dark, filthy crawl space was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
The dread I felt peering into that hole is difficult to properly explain, like, subconsciously I knew that no matter what term they used to define that hole, I wanted nothing to do with it. Dave had a habit of calling things like this ‘ignorant’, which I don’t think is quite the right term, but I agreed with the sentiment.
To make things worse, a few members of the night staff were creepy as hell. There was this one guy in particular that kept trying to climb into the hole with us, like, we physically had to stop him from diving in. I don’t know what was going on in that guy's personal life, but someone should probably check up on him. There was another janitor who would watch us from around a corner while we worked. Occasionally, when we climbed out of the hole, something would feel off, and we’d look over and see this guy peeking around the corner at us, like something out of The Grudge.
On a particularly ‘ignorant’ day, Dave asked the guy what the hell his problem was. The janitor didn’t say a word, just kept staring, his mop clutched in his hand like a spear. I have no idea what his problem was, but the general vibe was that we were unwelcome, that this was their place, and we were somehow offending them by being there. Mostly, we tried to keep our heads down.
It took a while, but we eventually settled into a routine. I would crawl ahead and dismantle the fittings and reinstall the new stuff (I was the only one willing to do this part), Dave would be behind me, in the next space over, telephoning cut lengths from me to Seok, who would be waiting outside the hole with a sawzall to cut the XFR to size (and to make sure no custodian stepped into the hole in their nightly daze). At minimum, we needed to cut the lengths in half, as we could only jam a six foot piece down the hole at the most, and only then if we persuaded it with our feet.
This entire time we were suited up in disposable Tyvek suits and oversized plastic gloves that made it look like your hands were melting. Crawling across the floor of the crawl space would coat your belly in black, rancid grease that smelt like shit and bring you within kissing distance of several mummified mice (one was so petrified that we thought it was a lizard skeleton at first, we named it Riley), so we ended up rolling sheets of poly down the spaces to cut down on the stickage. More than once, if one of us weren’t quite on the plastic sheet, we’d have to peel an elbow or knee off the floor with this disgusting stretchy squelching sound.
We also realized that these crawl spaces were full of abandoned construction material, rusted tools, and consumables. Whoever had been in the space last hadn’t wasted any time crawling out when things were wrapped up, apparently, if they’d even finished their job. Most peculiar was this heap of rags that marinated some twenty feet away from us. It wasn’t accessible just yet, but more on that later.
The first few days passed without any real incident, past bellyaching and a sinus infection. It wasn’t even an hour into the shift in question, when things took a turn. I was deep in the hole beneath the KFC, pushing some of my tools in front of me in a painter's tray, as my tool bag wouldn’t fit beneath the beams. I was dragging a rechargeable work-light (same one as in the pictures), using it to scout for dead mice and protruding nails in my path. The whole place smelt like burnt grease and the air tasted like dust when you made the mistake of breathing.
As I reached the P-trap I’d be cutting out, the light went out.
Now, at this point, I wasn’t really afraid so much as I was pissed off. Cursing, I shouted back to the hole for Dave to bring me his light. The strangest thing was that the battery indicator told me that the light had a full charge, but for whatever reason it wouldn’t turn back on, no matter how angrily I pressed the switch.
I laid there in the dark, like a corpse in a coffin, on my back, hands clasped on my stomach as I waited for the replacement light. I was uneasy, in an irrational way. There was an undeniable shiver creeping into my bones, the type you get when you have a fever, when you’re lying there soaked through in your own sweat, and your body feels wrong, that chill that doesn’t go away when you squirm beneath the blankets.
There was a sound. Like the muffled sigh of laundry being slowly poured from a hamper. My skin was prickling with goosebumps and my breath caught somewhere in my chest. I felt that same offness that I felt when I could sense the Peeking Janitor was nearby, but hadn’t yet been seen. The offness of being observed.
This smell had taken to the air, like decaying meat. I could hear a wet shuffling, the same sound I heard when we crawled around. And breathing. Like the panting of a dog in heat.
I don’t know what sort of yelp or shout I made, but I do remember it sticking in my throat on the way out. I felt like I’d been doused in ice cold water, the sharp twist of fear shot from my heart to my boys, who puckered so hard that for one long second I may have been an innie instead of an outie.
Light flooded the crawl space from the panel, as Dave lowered himself into the hole with a dramatic groan. As the light washed over me, I could see that apart from Dave, I was alone. When I borrowed the light from him, I remember craning my neck, trying to peer beneath the beams into the adjacent spaces. The only thing that stuck out to me was that mysterious pile of crusty rags, just a few spaces over.
There’s two things you never admit when you’re working in trades: first, you never admit that the crew left an hour early on Friday to go for drinks, second, you never admit that you’re afraid. When Dave quizzed me on the shout, I lied through my teeth. I wish I could go back and confess the truth, but we’re way past that point now. Too little, too late.
Now that I was hyperalert, I kept a wary eye on the rag-pile while I worked - and kept my hand sledge with me at all times. I became aware of this feeling in this space that I’d overlooked before, it felt like disdain, or maybe irritation. The closest feeling I can think to compare it to is when you’re walking on eggshells around someone with a temper, the feeling that one wrong move could set off the powderkeg.
A few hours after what I’m going to tentatively call my first encounter with the entity, I was beginning to try to rationalize the experience in my head. I remember sitting on a broken milkcrate in that hallway, drinking one of those Monster’s that came in that canister-looking container, trying to process what it is that happened. I was a pretty skeptical guy at the time, so I was exploring the possibility that I’d imagined the sound, or that it had belonged to something mechanical, like maybe one of the walk-in freezers that Thai Express had overhead. The only thing that was keeping me from fully embracing that theory, was that my light had started working again.
Dave had passed my light up from the hole to Seok, to have a look at, and from what I heard it had turned on the second it had left the hole. At the time, I got past this by reminding myself that they were fairly cheap lights, given to us as a peace offering by the foreman. It was certainly possible that it had just shit out on us for a few minutes, not that that is the prevailing theory in my head these days.
Around two in the morning, we sealed up the hole and went down for a smoke (I don’t smoke myself, so by smoke, I mean I stood out in the cold with Dave while he smoked). We’d usually do some people watching at this point, but it was a quiet night for the crazies. Seok came at two to two too (sorry), to join us for a few minutes of fresh air before we headed back, carrying a length of XFR pipe each up the stalled escalators to the food court.
When I crawled back into the hole, I realized our lights were missing. During breaks, we kept what tools we had sealed up in the hole, so that nobody could get at them, which until now hadn’t been a problem. Dave, as expected, was spitting mad, and ready to pack up for the night, which neither I nor Seok had any qualms with.
Not wanting to exacerbate the situation, I didn’t mention the Peeking Janitor watching us from around his corner, chin tucked against his chest and eyes twinkling in the shadow of his cap.
The next day, we had fresh lights. Dave had called up our foreman, who had begrudgingly dropped us off a few more. The foreman wasn’t thrilled with our progress, mind you his original work estimate was one week of overnight work, which wouldn’t have been possible in a million years, but nevertheless the fire had been lit and excuses would fall on deaf, self-righteous ears.
Dave was vocally suspicious of the custodians to anyone who would listen, and at the time I was willing to believe it myself. There was really nobody else in the area who had access to the holes. It could easily be the man who kept trying to climb into the hole with us, with a vacant, too-large smile plastered across his face, or the Peeking Janitor, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere to glare at us from around his corner and never seemed to do any actual janitor-ing.
Regardless, we were back in the hole, and making good headway. We had been taking our lights and tools down with us on breaks, to keep them accounted for, which seemed to do the trick. By the end of the week, we were done with what we could manage from that particular hole, and moved onto the next one, which was further down the hallway. It was also the one that contained that mysterious heap of rags.
This entrance was the worst, by far, a structural beam cut across it, nearly dividing the access by half. We had to squeeze in, feet first, and worm our way backward to get past the beam. The space also had the least overhead (overback?) space. When we’d crawl around on our hands and knees, we’d get prodded by exposed screws in the q-deck ceiling. There were racks of conduit snaking all over, which I ended up needing to wiggle my way over to get around. Some areas were so tight, I remember that I had to crawl out backwards to get free, as there was no room to turn around once I was wedged inside.
If I was feeling unwelcome in the first hole, I was feeling downright vulnerable in this one. It felt like I was in deep trouble with somebody, and they were in the middle of chewing me out. This hole was colder than the other, somehow, even though both lead to the same overall area, it was like descending into an ice bath.
That rag pile was accessible now, but looking at it gave me this jolt of anxiety, of grim anticipation - instinctually, I didn’t want to go near it. So, naturally, I put it off until the very end. I squirmed over to the furthest corner, away from the rag pile to take stock of which fittings and how much pipe we’d need to carry to get us through the remainder of the night. It was at this point I got another nasty surprise.
Our old lights were here, stuffed into the corner.
There was a jab of terrible disbelief in my gut as I laid there, breath misting faintly before my eyes. All three of the lights were still completely intact, as far as I could tell, but their surface was tacky with a transparent film. It was the consistency of cold syrup. Cradling them in my arm as best as I could, I made my way back to the entrance as quickly as I could. It was at this point, my light began to act up. The closer I squirmed to the hole, the dimmer my light became. It had begun to flicker by the time I’d reached the hole; I could hear that strange gasping again, and the shuffle of rags, not ten feet away from me; Cold adrenaline was pumping through me at this point as I hurled the lights from the hole, and began to push my way out. At waist level, I felt the hand.
I shouted as it dragged me backward sharply, ripping my suit on the edge of the hole, and twisting my foot sharply, nearly to the breaking point, my lower back seized from the sudden yank, where my body had snagged on the hole. I caught the edges of the hole with my arms, bracing by my armpits as it pulled again, sending another painful ripple shooting through my back and leg. Dave and Seok, now concerned, grabbed hold of me and wrenched me out of the hole together. It dropped me.
I scrambled back from the hole, nursing my back with the palm of my hand, gasping and recoiling in pain. The metallic tang of blood lingered in my mouth - I’d bit my tongue when I’d been yanked backward. Despite Dave’s insistence that I’d just gotten caught on something, I stormed off, grabbed my tools and limped home, leaving Seok and Dave to deal with the hole alone.
When I got home, I checked myself in the mirror as best as I could. Already, an ugly purple welt had formed on my lower back, where I’d been thrashed against the side of the hole. This particular injury ended up bothering me for months after the fact. It felt like I was constantly holding my breath, afraid to move. I’d started squatting instead of bending over to avoid the fireworks of pain that would erupt at seemingly a moment's notice. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a lower back injury, but it’s some of the worst physical pain that you can experience. My knee, on the other hand, had swollen up and was tender to walk on, but the worst of it subsided overnight.
The next day, the foreman called me, chewing me out for walking away the night before, which Dave had faithfully ratted me out for the moment I’d left. I told him that I wasn’t going back in that hole, that he’d need to send me to a different jobsite. That prick flatout refused, distinctly telling me to suck it up, and that I’d better get back to the mall or start looking for another job. I wish I could say that I’d stood my ground and told him to go fuck himself, but I’d just moved into my first apartment ever - hell, I wasn’t even properly moved in yet, I still slept on a mattress on the floor. I knew that I didn’t have enough money in reserve for rent if I didn’t have some form of work. Caught between the threat of losing the apartment and the prospect of climbing into the hole again, I caved, on the condition that I would be the one cutting material outside of the hole.
That night, I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot, beside Seok and Dave’s vehicles, where we usually met before the shift. Truthfully, I was slightly late and wasn’t surprised to see that their vehicles were already empty. Gingerly, I carried my tools to our lockup, in the vacant bank, dropped them off, and hurried to check-in.
When I got to security, I ended up getting an earful from the on-duty guard, a severe-looking woman in her sixties, with gray hair and an impressively long philtrum. Dave and Seok had forgotten to close the panel when they’d left last night. Furthermore, they’d left material in the back hallway - a serious no-no in service. After assuring her several times that I’d left early that night, but would inform the guys, I escaped up the elevator and headed to the back hallway.
I was nervous, to say the least, not just because of whatever was happening in that hole, but because I wasn’t great with conflict in general. Already, my stomach was churning and my mind racing with excuses and ways to defuse the awkwardness of the incoming dialogue. I settled on breaking the ice with a good-natured jab about them leaving their tools out, although I’m sure Dave already had gotten an earful from our foreman after he’d gotten home. The good thing about Dave was that he cooled off quickly, Seok on the other hand didn’t care to begin with.
In the hallway, they’d resealed the panel and pushed our pipe against the side of the hallway, the bare minimum distance they needed to clear the hallways. Dave’s packout was already backed against the wall, and unlocked, but neither he, nor Seok were anywhere to be seen.
A dread crept over me, clenching my chest in its icy fist.
I pulled out my phone. Pacing, I punched Dave’s number into my phone, trying to fight the spindly goosebumps working their way up my spine. The call tone sounded twice, then I heard it.
The muffled tone was faint, and eerily chipper - and coming from the hole.
I remember staring at that hole long after the ringing stopped, holding my breath as it went to voicemail. I had to do something. Heart racing, I sidled up to Dave’s toolbox, and extracted a flathead screwdriver. I’d call emergency services - once I was certain. Summoning what courage I could, I stabbed the flathead beneath the panel, and lifted it clear.
It was too dark to make out much from outside. I called out Dave’s name, as loudly as I dared. Moments passed at a snail's pace, and just as relief started to flood through me, I heard Dave’s blood curdling howl. I still hear it sometimes, as if it’s a part of me now.
“HELP! I’M STUCK, I’M FUCKING STUCK.” Dave’s voice was pained and frantic, as if he were fighting back tears - it scared the hell out of me.
Every instinct was screaming at me - begging me - to stay away from the hole, to run as far as I could and never look back, but I couldn’t leave him there. If it were me stuck in the hole, I’d want to get out ASAP, there was no telling how long he’d been down there - maybe since last night. At that moment, all reason flooded out of me like a glass of prune juice.
If I hadn’t made this one decision, I’d still probably be able to sleep at night. I’d be able to take my eyes off the shadows. There wouldn’t be any panic attacks. In short, I’d still be myself. But, I made the choice to go in after Dave.
I squeezed into the hole, gasping as my back protested the maneuver, holding the flathead close, like a dagger. The flashlight on my phone wasn’t great, but it was enough to work with. Swiveling it around, I scanned the crawl space, pulse pounding in my ears; That unwelcoming aura was back, and it poured over me as I searched for my Dave or Seok.
“Dave, where are you?” I called out, starting at the sputter of my own voice.
“HELP!”
I jumped, the voice felt distant, oddly distant in the crawlspace, so I made the split second decision to make my way over to the ominous pile of rags, as quickly as I could, as it was the only thing large enough to keep Dave or Seok out of my line of sight. I felt like I was army crawling across a field of molasses, the grease pulled at my clothes and clung to the skin of my wrists like oil paint on canvas.
The crawl to the pile felt like a heartbeat. Adrenaline spurred me beneath the narrow structural beams quicker than I’d ever managed before, and I was soaked in sweat and grease by the time I reached it, gagging as the smell overwhelmed my senses, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit as the saliva thickened in my mouth like paste. Trembling, I started to claw through the pile of rags. No, at this point I knew it wasn’t a pile of rags - it was a pile of clothes, clothes that were matted down into a stiff, malignant mass, that held their shape as I peeled them off, despite being saturated with grease.
I felt my fingers brush against something hard inside the pile, pinching it, I wrenched the object free and examined it under the dim light from my phone.
It was a tooth, still tacky with blood and capped with silver. Dave’s tooth. I threw up.
My body shuddered as I vomited again and again, spilling my stomach’s contents over that pile of rags, my back curling like a cat. I could feel my stomach acid spill into my throat, burning me, choking me to the point of tears, and flooding out my and down my face.
“HELP! I’M STUCK, I’M FUCKING STUCK.”
It grabbed me roughly by the boots and yanked me hard away from the rags, helped by the wet layer of grease coating the ground. By some miracle, I got jammed beneath a structural beam that I was too big to fit beneath; it pulled me relentlessly, and as I managed a hoarse scream that’s tone soured in my throat, my chest fell and slipped me inch by inch further beneath the beam, wrenching the breath from my lungs; My head was spinning, I couldn’t draw breath and I flailed my feet frantically, kicking and pushing with everything I had, eyes cloudy with tears.
The excited breathing returned, I could hear the giddy thing, barely able to contain itself. There was a sharp croak as my feet slipped from my work boots, and the thing was thrown backward; wrapping my hands around a P-Trap, I yanked with all my might, worming myself out of the gap, kicking my knees frantically into the ground for traction. There was a snap as the pipe broke, spraying me with cold chunks of black decomposed food, but I’d gotten myself loose enough to make a break for the panel, praying to God that I had enough time to squeeze out of the hole.
I could hear the thing skittering across the floor behind me, impossibly fast, each time it lifted one of its limbs, the semi-dried grease ripped like thin cotton. It was on me as I was nearing the light, desperately, I managed to whirl onto my back, losing my phone in the whirl of motion; It’s hands were iron around my neck, and it slammed me against the ground, cackling in delight, my vision darkened and tunneled as I stared in horror at it, my dizzy brain trying to make sense of it. I saw two beaks, but where the eyes should have been. It’s limbs were spindly, impossibly long and taught with pale skin, and it’s laughing mouth was wide and filled with needle-like teeth, black like obsidian and dripping with viscous spittle, its long, filthy nails dug into my throat as it squeezed my soft neck nearly into pulp, wringing it like water from a wet towel.
I swung my arm hard at whatever it was, gripping the screwdriver for dear life, my mind screaming that they would never find my body, that my girlfriend would never know what happened to me, my family would wonder where I’d gone. On the second jab, I felt the flathead bite hard into where its ear would have been, soaking my hand in foaming blood, the howl it let out was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life, it made my ears ring and my stomach churn, my heart hurt like hell as it pounded away in my chest, and I thought I was going to have a literal heart attack just a few meters from salvation.
It loosened its grip enough for me to shove it free with my legs, losing Dave’s screwdriver in the process. I scrambled to the entrance and wormed my way through the opening, my back was in excruciating pain so hot I could barely keep my eyes from rolling back in my head, and my throat was wracked with a sputtering cough that made my head ache. As I clamored out, I realized I wasn’t covered in grease like I’d thought - I was covered in blood.
A hand shot out the hole, swinging, grabbing and searching for me, the thing pressing itself hard against the opening in pursuit. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, racing for the exit by the dim auxiliary lighting, listening to the thing pry itself from the hatch behind me, screaming furiously at me as I pushed my way through the swinging doors, slipping on the blood coating the bottom of my bare socks and nearly losing my footing in what would have been a fatal fall. The doors burst open again behind me, punctuated by the hyena-esque laughter as it pursued, on all fours from the sounds of it, its long nails scrabbling against the tiles of the food court like a charging wolf, skittering and sliding with its impossible gangly long limbs, its breath was ragged, seeping with fury - with hunger. As I reached the escalators, I barreled down, nearly spilling down in my haste. I heard it hesitate at the top before charging after me - I could smell its rancid scent bearing down on me.
I made for the bank, exploding through the construction fencing and throwing open the glass doors, with the thing hot on my heels, biting, scratching, and howling with laughter. Broken glass bit into my socks, into the soles of my feet, adding my own blood to the cocktail, as I pounded through the debris into the dark of the bank, a plan formulating in my mind. It was just behind me, I could practically feel its hot, stagnant breath on the back of my neck, and with one last burst of adrenaline, I charged into the empty vault and yanked in shut, but it wouldn’t close, it stuck, jammed on one of its horrible, pale hands. I could see it’s rotten nails squeezing the vault door, fresh flesh peaking out from near the cuticles, and jagged like crumpled paper; I jammed my foot against the wall and pulled hard, my back howled in pain and my vision went black, there was a deafening squeal as the door shifted, then -
Silence.
I don’t know how long I was in that vault for, waiting for that thing to get inside and throttle me to death. By all rights, I should have died in that vault, but security had found my bloody footprints on one of their walkthroughs and traced it to the vault. When they got it open, I was looking at some unimpressed police officers, and the woman from the security desk.
The next two weeks were absolute hell for me, and I don’t think I slept for more than a sporadic hour or two at night. I had a laundry list of meetings: interrogations, evaluations, interviews, and the like. By the end of it all, I was more tired than I’d ever been in my life. The cops hadn’t found anything in the crawlspace, except for the hoarded clothing and Dave’s remains, although I don’t know how long they actually looked for. They never found out what happened to Seok’s remains.
I ended up laid off, due to the murder accusations that were being flung around by the press, as well as Seok’s family. I had to meet with the property manager at the condo about my missed payment, and everyone I knew was bombarding me with questions about what had happened that night.
It was during this stretch that I was seriously questioning my mental state. I slipped into some of the worst depression I’ve ever experienced: I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t washing, and every shadow looked like it was gunning for me - and the guilt - the guilt was the worst part. I could have stopped both of them from going down into that hole, the night I stormed off. But I didn’t. The thought haunts me day in and day out, and I can’t tell another soul, except for you, hiding behind this username.
The most troubling thing for me has been the missing thing, whatever it was. No trace had ever turned up of it, that I’m aware of. The last I’d seen of it, it was in the abandoned bank. As much as I hated the thought, it could have gone anywhere from there. It could be miles away, it could have set up shop in the boiler room beneath the bank, or more irrationally, I find myself wondering if it could have my scent, somehow.
All I know, Reddit user, is that as I write this message to you, the doors are locked, the curtains drawn, and a hammer close at hand. I don’t think I’ll ever get back to where I was, but this has been nice - it’s been reassuring to picture you as a friendly ear, nodding and watching me tell my story, as unbelievable as it is.
So, in closing, thanks. You’ve helped me keep the darkness at bay for just a little bit longer, and I’ve managed to work through some of my tangled thoughts. Take care.
2024.01.03 15:18 FuZhiJinGang Seven intractable diseases are cured through Buddhism (7种疑难杂症)
 | 1. I have completely recovered from systemic lupus erythematosus and myasthenia gravis submitted by FuZhiJinGang to CittaPureLand [link] [comments] I am from Shanghai, China. When I was a child, I suffered from a face hemangioma and underwent major surgery; my body often had nodules and lymphomas; I often suffered from habitual colds, and my fever eventually led to pneumonia. Each time it took more than a month to recover. Severe anemia resulted from my immunocompromised, with thrombocytopenia. I often faint on the road. When I was at school, I often took sick leave. After work, the diagnosis of systemic lupus erymatosus (SLE) and myasthenia gravis (MG) pushed me into despair. Because of muscle weakness, my fingers don't have the strength to work properly on the garment line. The supervisor sympathized with me, and arranged for me a lighter job: stamping the certificate of conformity of the manufactured products. However, I couldn’t even lift a small stamp with my hand. Once I could not take off my pants when I used to the toilet, so I had to ask my colleagues for help. My working life is 33 years, but my sick leave is 23 years. When I was around 30 years old, SLE and MG affected my heart beating and my lungs breathing. I couldn't lie on my back, so I could only half lie on the bed. Due to muscle weakness, the gallbladder was atrophy, bile was unable to discharge, and gallbladder pain was extremely painful. The uterus shrank, and period blood couldn’t be excreted through the uterus. Therefore, I had to undergo surgery to remove both the gallbladder and the uterus. SLE skin disease required long-term use of hormones and drugs, which damaged liver and kidney function, and caused oral ulcers and periodontitis, making eating extremely painful. As time passes, the condition becomes worse and worse. I had pain all over, chest tightness, shortness of breath, weakened immunity, and I was very prone to colds and fevers. Later, the illness gradually developed to the point where I couldn't move my whole body and collapsed on the bed. I couldn't take care of myself, and couldn't even hold a piece of paper. My husband had to go to work, and after returning home, he had to undertake heavy housework, take care of the children, and take care of me. I could only lie on the bed and watch all this helplessly. Helplessness and indescribable pain in my heart let tears soak my cheeks. In desperation, I starved myself to death. As a result, my family sent me to the hospital with needles all over my body. My life was worse than death. In fact, I didn't even have the ability to die. My lifespan is at most 15 years over the course of the disease cycle and autoimmunity, according to an expert doctor, and there is no cure for this disease. In other words, my life is 45 years old. It was a bolt out of the blue for me. Just when I was at the lowest point and most desperate in my life, the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva heard the cry in my heart, rescuing living beings upon hearing their suffering, and let me encounter the Dharma. At that time, in order to save my life, my mother offered incense and prayed to Buddha in every temple she visited. When praying to Guan Yin Bodhisattva on Mount Putuo, she met a Buddhist monk. The Buddhist monk walked to my mother and said to my mother, "Hurry up and save your daughter. Human beings have '3 immortal subsouls and 6 mortal subsouls' (note: '3 immortal subsouls and 6 mortal subsouls' for '三魂六魄' may not be an accurate translation. I will update this term once I find the accurate translation), and your daughter has lost 1 immortal subsoul and 1 mortal subsoul." Then, the Buddhist monk instructed my mother to teach me how to recite Buddhist scriptures every day. Following the Buddhist monk's instructions, I started learning Buddhism and recite Buddhist scriptures. Since then, my life has ushered in the dawn. On the third day after reciting Buddhist scriptures, I could move my hands and legs. One month later, I could get up and walk around. The doctor exclaimed: This is really a miracle! In 2014, fortunately, I was fascinated by watching the totem reading video of Master Lu in WeChat (a free messaging and calling app) Moments. From this video, I realized the reason why I had been so sick and difficult in this life. It turned out that this was all caused by my previous life, and I owed too much debt; the experience in this life is actually the punishment I must bear. It is these totem reading videos that saved my physical and spiritual life. I made up my mind to practise Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, and I made a vow to become a vegetarian 5 months later. If thoughts are sincere, the Buddha will respond. The benevolent Master Lu came to my dream to bless me and teach me how to recite the Little Houses. I get up at 4 o'clock every day to do my daily recitation. I read Buddhism in Plain Terms, listen to Master Lu's lecture recordings, release lives, spread Dharma, and transform people with fellow Dharma practitioners. I could recite more than 8 Little Houses every day without distracting thoughts, and later reached 10-13 sheets per day. Every time I encountered a problem, Master Lu's Dharmakaya gave me advice in my dream. Three months later, my family accidentally discovered that I "ate faster than before". Only then did I realize that the oral ulcers and periodontitis that had accompanied me for many years had healed. During the Spring Festival of 2017, Guan Yin Bodhisattva came to my dream and removed the egg-sized tumor in my armpit. A few months later, I discovered by accident that the tumor that had been warned by the doctor that it was likely to undergo pathological changes had really disappeared. Now I am happy. I eat well, sleep well, and don’t need medicine. I am full of energy, and I have no problem lifting 1-2 kilograms or heavier things. All my body indexes are basically up to standard. What is even more astonishing is that during my 3 years studying Buddhism, I attended 13 Dharma Conferences and served as a volunteer at 8 Dharma Conferences. Fig. 1. In March 2023, I presented a lecture to encourage new Dharma practitioners to have more faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva, and senior practitioners to cultivate minds and bodies more diligently using my own and my family's experiences. Standing in front of the room talking for an hour was no longer a problem for me. Can you image I have suffered over 10 years of SLE and 6 years of MG before? 2. My husband’s blood sugar normalized and gout also healed In 2016, my husband turned 63, entering his 369 predestined calamity age. He normally does not eat snacks, but suddenly had a craving for them, eating from morning to night, and eating snacks before he went to sleep. The more he ate, the thinner he became. I felt something was wrong and took him to the hospital for a checkup. His diagnosis shocked me. His pre-meal blood sugar was 18.2, post-meal blood sugar was 28.2, and a variety of other indexes were bad. He was prescribed many medicines. One of the medicines, metformin tablets, has significant side effects and directly affects liver and kidney health. There is a saying that "a long illness makes you a good doctor". In my case, I have been ill for a long time, so I have taken many medicines to treat LE. LE was not cured, but the side effects of the medicines caused MG. Hence, I opposed my husband taking too many medicines. As a result of studying Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I learned that there are two types of illnesses: physical and karmic (spiritual) illnesses. Physical illnesses can be treated by doctors, but karmic illnesses are very difficult to treat with medicine alone. In order to cure karmic illnesses, one must implement the five Dharma treasures: making vows, reciting Buddhist scriptures, performing life liberation, reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and repenting of wrongdoings and refraining from doing them. Only by removing karma can karmic (spiritual) illness be cured. As diabetes is also a karmic disease, I convinced my husband to recite Buddhist scriptures for healing. In the years he has served me, he has witnessed how I have evolved from being a bedridden patient with no strength, needing assistance, to a healthy person who is now frisky and ready to propagate the Dharma. He also felt that our Dharma Door was incredibly efficacious and decided to join me in practicing Buddhism. I can't tell you how happy I was to see that he was determined to become a vegetarian and recite the Buddhist scriptures. In order to encourage him and let him witness Buddhism's magic, I also quietly helped him recite Little Houses. In less than 3 months, without taking a single pill, his blood sugar dropped from 18.2 to 5.3, completely normal! He witnessed the miracle himself and became more confident in Buddhism. During the past 7 years, he kept reciting the Buddhist scriptures, eating vegetarian food and releasing lives. Despite never deliberately avoiding sugar, his blood sugar remains at about 5.3. What is more surprising is that his gout, which had bothered him for more than 10 years, has been cured. 3. My brother successfully cured his psoriasis after nearly 20 years of suffering My younger brother is a businessman. In the past, he ate all kinds of raw seafood, unknowingly, and retribution came. He developed psoriasis around 39. He did not have a single piece of intact skin all over his body, making him suffer a lot. He has been to all the major hospitals and used many prescriptions, and spent nearly one million CNY (~$145K US), but his condition is getting serious and deteriorating. Despite my repeated recommendations for him to practice Buddhism, my sister-in-law (wife of my younger brother) has repeatedly refused to do so. She always thought I advocated superstition, and even more disdainfully said: "If everyone gets well after reciting Buddhist scriptures, why do we need the hospital?" In this way, she kept me out again and again. In 2019, I visited my mother who lives with my younger brother. My mother was 82 years old and believed in Buddhism and recited Buddhist scriptures. She cried and said to me, "Just help your younger brother recite the Little Houses. He now has ulcerated psoriasis wounds all over his body and cannot wear clothes. Even the doctors turn him back and can't treat him." I replied, "One must pay one's own debts. Those who eat food and those who are full. If he is willing to practice Buddhism and recite the Buddhist scriptures, I will definitely help him. If he doesn't recite the Buddhist scriptures, I can't help him." Then, I headed to my younger brother's home. Looking at his bloody wounds, my heart ached and I implored him to recite the Buddhist scriptures. I said to him, "Skin diseases are also karmic diseases. Now that the doctors have rebuffed you, the only way to save you is Buddhism. This is the last straw. You listen to your elder sister. Try it first. If reciting Buddhist scriptures for 3 weeks does not work, do not recite. With no other choice, he agreed to try. After returning home, I prayed to Guan Yin Bodhisattva to save my younger brother and to show my sister-in-law that our Citta Dharma Door is true. Since my brother promised to recite the Buddhist scriptures, I helped his karmic creditors with 21 Little Houses. Two weeks later, I visited my younger brother again. He could already put on his clothes. He also showed me that his wounds were gradually healing. The psoriasis receded. It was a miracle I did not expect! After that, his skin condition got better and better. On the day of his housewarming, relatives and friends congratulated him. They were surprised to see him dressed in short clothes and pants. He has not worn short clothes and pants for many years because of psoriasis. "Why are you wearing short clothes and pants today? "Everyone asked him where he got his psoriasis cured, and how it was cured. Both my mother and my younger brother answered that they thanked me for awakening him to practice Buddhism and recite the Buddhist scriptures, so that he could be reborn. My younger brother's Dharma presentation has caused my relatives to believe in Buddhism and add me to their WeChat one after another. They followed me to practice Buddhism. It was really Dharma joyous! 4. Mother survived 77 and 79 age-associated predestined calamities, was cured of Alzheimer's disease, and no longer required dialysis In 2015, my mother was 78 years old. Master Lu enlightened that 77 and 79 are both predestined calamity ages, so my mother had already entered a dangerous period of her life. On the third day of the Spring Festival, she suddenly fell out of bed, unconscious, and pooped on her pants. She was rushed to the hospital emergency room where a CT scan revealed a brain stem infarction. The doctor said the brain infarction location was not good, and we had to be prepared. Winter is a period of high incidence of heart and brain diseases, so hospital beds are tight. In this emergency, I made a vow to heaven on the spot in the hospital: "I will release 1200 crucian carp, 49 turtles, 49 black fish, recite 108 Little Houses and transfer the merits and virtues of internet Dharma propagation to my mother." I prayed that Bodhisattva's mercy would allow my mother to be admitted to the ward so that she could receive better treatment. Unexpectedly, early the next morning, the doctor informed us to check in for hospitalization. The families of the patients in the nearby emergency room told us they had been there for 5 days. They had not been admitted to the ward. We came in last night and were admitted to the ward the next day, and they thought we had bribed the doctors. At this point, I really felt the Dharma treasures of "making vows, reciting Buddhist scriptures, and performing life liberation" was so effective! Perhaps my filial piety touched the Bodhisattva, and more surprises came one after another. The day after she was admitted to the hospital, my mother woke up and could move her arms and legs freely. All expensive imported medicines were not needed. Even the doctor said there was a miracle! We used all the money saved from imported medicines for liberating lives. Although she was discharged from the hospital, she still suffered from the problem of her brain stem infarction. From then on, she got amnesia, mania, and Alzheimer's disease (AD). She quarreled with my brother-in-law at home every day. She suspected my sister-in-law of stealing from her, and then poisoning the food she ate. Every day the family was in turmoil. My brothers wanted to commit her to a mental hospital, but I stopped them. I told my younger brother and sister-in-law to give me 3 weeks to help her recite Buddhist scriptures. If she did not get better, send her to a mental institution according to your suggestion; if she became better, she would continue to live with you. When I got home, I hurriedly offered incense and made a vow to Guan Yin Bodhisattva that I would help my mother recite 108 Little Houses for her karmic creditors within 3 weeks, release 1200 fish for her, and transfer 50% of the merits and virtues of my online Dharma propagation to her. After 108 Little Houses were paid, her condition did not improve significantly. Therefore, I made another vow to recite 108 Little Houses for her karmic creditors. Just after the 42nd Little Houses were paid to her creditors, one morning, she suddenly walked up to my younger brother and sister-in-law as if she were a new person and said to them, "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you." My younger brother called me happily, "Mom recovered. Thank you, elder sister! If you hadn't used Buddhism to save our mother, I don't know what would have happened to her now." Fig. 2. My mom just recovered from AD in 2015. She was reciting Buddhist scriptures with an e-counter on her index finger. My younger brother also told me that my sister-in-law cried with sadness and regret when she saw that my mother had recovered from AD. My sister-in-law’s parents also suffered from AD. Since she did not believe in Buddhism at the time, they sent their parents to a nursing home one after another. Within 6 months, my sister-in-law's parents died one after another. Although I had offered her all the Dharma treasures a long time ago, she had no faith in Dharma. She had not practiced, so she missed her filial duty for her parents. Therefore, she was very regretful and grieved. Through practicing Buddhism and reciting Buddhist scriptures, my mother's creatinine index has also stabilized. She originally had chronic nephritis and needed blood dialysis, but now she no longer needs it. Although my mother cannot read or write, with my guidance, she now recites the Buddhist scriptures herself every day and can recite 1-2 Little Houses. 5. The three golden Buddhist practices are excellent, transforming the advanced gastric cancer into gastritis In 2023, my mother is 86 years old, entering her 369 predestined calamity age. Before the Spring Festival of 2023, my mother's karma broke out: vomiting and diarrhea, unbearable stomach pain, vomiting from whatever she ate; she could not stop the pain without an infusion every day. On the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, when she was in the emergency room of a general hospital for an infusion suddenly the pain became unbearable and she vomited again. The doctor said, "Call an ambulance and take her to a big hospital!" After a series of tests in the big hospital she was finally diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer. So, the doctor arranged a bed for her and prepared her for surgery in a few days. The doctor said that, "given the condition, your mother's stomach cancer existed for at least 10 years." I think my mother has advanced stomach cancer. Since she was old and frail, we should not let her suffer surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy. Master Lu enlightened us that cancer is a spiritual disease, so I should make a big vow. At this point, I thought of Dharma practitioner Dai nearby. The doctor said that her husband was in the advanced stage of thymoma. The tumor was huge and compressed the heart, so he might die immediately. Hospitals could not operate or do chemotherapy. Practitioner Dai saved her husband by practising the 3 golden Buddhist practices of the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door. Now her husband, who is also a disciple of Master Lu, has been cured of thymic cancer for 6-7 years. Therefore, I believe that through practising the 3 Golden Buddhist Practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door of reciting Buddhist scriptures, making vows and releasing lives, with the blessing of the Bodhisattva, my mother will definitely get better. During the 2023 Spring Festival, our Dharma promotion team was very busy. Practitioners from other places invited us to propagate the Dharma as guests. During those days my mother was in hospital. I was very hesitant about travelling out of town. However, our Dharma propagation date was set long ago. Practitioners from other places had prepared very well for our coming. Fellow practitioners dreamed several times that a Dharma Conference would be held before we arrived there. How could I retreat? How could I let the Bodhisattva and Master down? In the end, I chose to promote the Dharma! When I arrived at the other place, my younger brother told me that our mother was about to have an operation. I wanted to release fish for her, but during the Spring Festival period, many fish peddlers returned home for the New Year. There were no fish on the market. I couldn't help but be sad and shed tears! However, a fellow practitioner saw a fish peddler in the WeChat Moment who still sold fish. Gratitude to the Bodhisattva for Her mercy and blessing! I asked my fellow practitioners to help me buy 1200 carp, 49 turtles and 49 black fish and release for my mother in two days. On the spot, my fellow practitioners also recited the Great Compassion Mantra for my mother. They all prayed and wished my mother a speedy recovery. I also transferred 30% of the merits and virtues of the daily Dharma propagation and 50% of the merits and virtues of the three days of Dharma propagation out of town to my mother. I made a vow to help my mother's karmic creditors recite 1000 Little Houses in two years. The next day, my fellow practitioners contributed money and volunteered to release another batch of 1200 carp for my mother. They recited the Great Compassion Mantra for her. I was very touched by their profound compassion and unfathomable mercy! I am grateful! I am grateful to the Bodhisattva for blessing my mother with compassion! A miracle really happened! On the third day, my mother recovered like a normal person and recited the sutra in her hospital bed. The doctor and people in the same ward said, "The old lady is really incredible. How can she be so different from yesterday? We decided not to let my mother have surgery, radiotherapy or chemotherapy, and let her return home. The doctor frightened my younger brother, saying, "Your mother's illness is so serious that she will be sent back right after discharge." My younger brother was scared and hesitated. I said, "Don't be afraid. If our mother has surgery and is covered with tubes, her quality of life will definitely be compromised, so it's better to let her finish her life well. I'll take care of her, don't worry!" Then, I calmly said to my younger brother, "Let our mother be discharged from the hospital! You will take care of her life, and I will help her get rid of her illness!" My brother was so convinced that I would perform another miracle that he agreed to take her home from the hospital to care for her. After returning home, I repaid my mother's creditors with Little Houses every day. I released fish on a large scale 2 more times for her. I released some fish that would be slaughtered one after another. I transferred some merits and virtues of Dharma propagation to my mother. The doctor warned her that she could not eat rice but rice porridge after discharge. However, my mother could eat rice normally, and not vomit anymore! My younger brother felt she was even more energetic than in the hospital! My younger brother was still uneasy and thought she was a brief revival. So, he took our mother to another big hospital for another checkup and gave all the test reports and films to the specialist. Surprisingly, in just over two months, a very large stomach tumor became smaller. In the last film, the tumor could hardly be seen. Finally, the specialist confirmed gastritis. The specialist was shocked, and he said, "Such a patient has never been seen before. It's unbelievable!" One day, my mother said to my younger brother, "If you plan a trip, avoid Saturday and Sunday because your elder sister has to travel to spread the Dharma and do merits and virtues on these days and cannot come to take care of me. The only way to save me is to let her do more merits and virtues." Now, whenever I say I'm going to spread the Dharma, the whole family supports me! I am truly grateful to the Bodhisattva for curing my mother's stomach cancer and giving me more motivation to help more sentient beings. Like our Master, I want to make it my mission to spread the Dharma and benefit sentient beings! Gratitude to the great Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Lu! A proverb says, "A mother makes a home." It is the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door that saved our whole family and enabled us to practice filial piety for our parents. Recently, I pay my mother's karmic creditors 14 Little Houses per week, and pray to Guan Yin Bodhisattva to protect my mom safe and sound. My family, my mother's family, my husband's family, and my neighbors, as long as they know me, nearly all of them practice Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door. In a dream, Master Lu took me to Guan Yin Citta Pure Land (On the east side of the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss is Guan Yin Citta Pure Land). Master Lu told me that He was waiting for us in Guan Yin Citta Pure Land. We all are children of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, and we all are children of Master Lu. Together, let's make this marvelous Dharma bloom everywhere. My deepest gratitude to Namo Sakyamuni Buddha! My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva! My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time! My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors! My deepest gratitude to the selfless and beloved Master Jun Hong Lu! Fig. 3. My mom is in good condition. Photo was taken in spring 2023 after her stomach cancer healed. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu. I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners. I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma! Presenter: Dharma Practitioner Zheng, Gratitude and Namaste! Editor: Mary Translator: Frank Published: 2023-03-11 Revised: 2023-04-09 STATEMENT BY EDITOR AND TRANSLATOR 1 The story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu. 2 Author Zheng was interviewed by Mary during translation for the detailed information. PROPAGATION Please kindly forward this presentation to those who are under sufferance from illness, and all sentient beings, if possible. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda！ WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHANGE YOUR DESTINY? We will show you how to do the five golden Buddhist practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma. FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE CONTACT: Fellow Buddhist practitioner: Lily Email：[sunnypurplelily@gmail.com](mailto:sunnypurplelily@gmail.com) WeChat: HanJing20210820 原文如下： 一家人患上八种疑难杂症，遇到佛法，迎刃而解 感恩南无释迦牟尼佛！ 感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！ 感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨及龙天护法金刚菩萨！ 感恩弘法度众舍身忘我的恩师慈父LJH台长！ 一、学佛后，我十多年的红斑狼疮、六年重症肌无力彻底康复 我来自中国上海。我在儿时患了脸血管瘤，动过大手术；身体经常会生出结节、淋巴瘤；我常常习惯性感冒，发烧必成肺炎，每次都要一个多月才能好转。由于我的免疫功能低下导致严重贫血，并伴有血小板减少。我经常会在马路上晕倒。上学时，我经常请病假。工作后，红斑狼疮、肌无力的确诊更是把我推向了绝望的深渊。因为肌无力的原因，我的手指没力气在服装流水线上正常工作。领导同情我，安排我轻松一点的工作，给出厂产品的合格证上盖章。但是，我的手连一枚小小的图章都提不起来。严重时，我上厕所自己无力脱裤子，只好求助于同事。我的工龄是33年，但是我的病假就长达23年。 在我30岁左右时，我的病情已经影响到我的心脏跳到和肺呼吸了。我不能平躺，只能半卧在床。由于肌无力，引起胆囊萎缩，胆汁无力排出，胆囊疼痛无比。子宫萎缩，女性最重要的生理期更是无法通过子宫排出。于是，只好手术把胆囊和子宫全部摘除。红斑狼疮皮肤病需长期服用激素和药物，损坏了我的肝和肾功能，并引起口腔溃疡、牙周炎，使得进食疼痛无比。 随着时间的推移，病情发展越来越严重。我浑身疼痛，胸闷，气急，免疫力下降，极易感冒发烧。后来，病情逐步发展到全身无法动弹，只能瘫倒在床，生活不能自理，连一张纸都拿不起来。先生既要上班，回家后又要承担繁重的家务 ，照顾孩子，还要照顾我，而我只能躺在病床上无能为力地看着这一切。心中的痛苦、无奈、无以言表，任凭眼泪浸湿脸颊。 在绝望中我曾选择绝食，结果被家人送进医院浑身扎满针眼，生不如死。其实，我连死的能力都没有。专家说，按照发病周期以及自身免疫力情况，我的生命最多还有15年的时间，而且世界上没有治愈的先例。也就是说，我的生命缘分大概在 45 岁左右。这对我而言简直是晴天霹雳。 就在我人生最低谷最绝望的时候，大慈大悲的观世音菩萨听见了我内心的呼喊，闻声救苦，让我闻到了佛法。那时，母亲为了救我，四处敬香求佛。在普陀山拜求观世音菩萨时，她遇见了一位法师。法师走到母亲身边，对我母亲说：“你赶快回去救你女儿吧，人有三魂六魄，你的女儿一魂一魄已经没有了”。然后，法师交代我母亲教会我每天如何念经。遵照法师的指点我开始学佛念经了，从此我的人生迎来了曙光。念经后的第三天，我的手能动了，双腿也可以自行移动了，一个月后竟可以起床走动了。医生惊叹道：这真是奇迹啊！ 2014年偶然的一次机缘，我在朋友圈里看到了恩师卢台长的图腾视频入了迷，并从中领悟到自己今世为何多病多难。原来这都是我前世造的因，欠了太多的债；今生的遭遇就是我要尝的果。正是这些图腾视频，救了我的生命和慧命。我下定决心修学心灵法门，5个月后许愿吃全素。人有诚心，佛有感应。慈悲的师父亲自来到我的梦中加持，教给我念诵经文组合的方法。我每天 4 点起床做功课，看《白话佛法》，听师父的开示录音，与师兄们一起放生、弘法、度人。我每天能心无杂念地念诵 8 张以上经文组合，后来达到 10-13张。每次遇到问题时，师父的法身就会来梦里对我开示点化。 三个月后的某一天，家里人无意中发现我“怎么吃饭比以前快了”。我才意识到伴随我多年的口腔溃疡、牙周炎已经痊愈了。2017年春节时，观世音菩萨来到我的梦中，将我长在腋下那颗鸡蛋大小的肿瘤摘除了。几个月后，我无意中发现，这个曾经被医生警告很可能会病变的肿瘤真的消失了。 现在的我是最快乐的，吃得香，睡得好，不用吃药，浑身是劲，提起一两公斤甚至更重的东西也完全没有问题。我身体的各项指标经基本合格。更无法想到的是，学佛三年中，我能够参加13次法会，破例做了 8 次法会义。 二、先生通过学佛念经，血糖正常了，痛风也好了 2016年，先生63岁，到了他的369关。平时不吃零食的他，突然之间嘴馋，一天从早吃到晚，临睡前还要吃小点心，而且越吃越瘦。我感觉不对劲，带他去医院做了检查。不查不知道，一查吓一跳。先生餐前血糖18.2，餐后血糖28.2，各种指标都不好。医生给他开了很多药。其中有一种药，二甲双胍片，副作用很大，直接影响肝脏、肾脏健康。 所谓“久病成良医”。我自己长期以来生病，吃过很多药。红斑狼疮没治好，药物的副作用导致我患上了重症肌无力。所以，我很反对先生吃太多的药。 通过学习心灵法门，我知道了人有两种病：肉体病和灵性（业障）病。肉体病找医生，一般都能治疗好，但是业障病，单单通过医学，很难看好，需要通过五大法宝“许愿、念经、放生、读诵《白话佛法》、大忏悔”，才能消除业障，从而让身体机能得到根本的修复。糖尿病其实也是业障病的一种，于是我就劝说先生念经治病。 先生因为多年服侍我，亲眼见证我从一个多年卧床、手无缚鸡之力、需要别人服侍的人，到现在能活蹦乱跳、能四处弘法度人的人。他也觉得我们的法门灵验无比，决定和我一起学佛念经。看到先生决心吃素念经了，我是说不出的高兴。为了鼓励他，让他见证佛法的神奇，我也悄悄助缘，帮他念诵经文组合。就这样，短短3个月不到的时间里，没吃一颗药，他的血糖从原先18.2直接降到5.3，完全正常了！先生看到了奇迹，也更坚定了学佛的信心。七年来，他坚持念经、吃素、放生，从不忌糖，但血糖一直保持在5.3左右。 更惊喜的是，困扰先生10多年的痛风也不知不觉好了。 三、劝导弟弟学佛念经，治好了他近20年的牛皮癣 我的弟弟是个生意人。以前，生猛海鲜他样样吃，不知不觉报应来了。大约39岁那年，他患上了牛皮癣。他浑身上下没有一块完整的皮肤，让他痛苦不堪。他看遍了各大医院，也用过很多偏方，化费了近100多万人民币，病情却越来越严重。我曾多次劝他学佛念经，但是弟弟和弟媳都不相信。弟媳总以为我在宣传迷信，更是不屑地说：”如果大家念经后身体会好，那还要医院干吗？“就这样，她一次次把我挡在门外。 2019年，我去看望我母亲。母亲80多岁了，也信佛念经。她哭着对我说：“你就帮帮你兄弟念念经文组合吧。他现在全身牛皮癣伤口溃烂，无法穿衣服。连医生都回绝他，无法帮他治疗。”我说：“自己的债一定要自己还，各人吃饭各人饱。他如果愿意学佛念经，我一定会帮他。他如果不念经，我也帮不了他。” 于是，我再次去弟弟家。看着弟弟血淋淋的伤口，我的心很痛，再一次恳请他念经。我对弟弟说，皮肤病也是业障病。现在医生也回绝你了，能救你的唯一方法就是学佛念经。这是最后一根救命稻草。你听姐姐的，先试试看。如果念经3个星期没有效果，你就不要念了。在万般无奈的情况下，弟弟答应学佛念经了。 回到家，我上香的时候祈求观世音菩萨能够救救我的弟弟，也要让弟媳看看我们的法门真实不虚。因为弟弟答应念经了，所以我助缘了21张经文组合给他的要经者。没想到，真的出现了奇迹！两个星期后，我再次去弟弟家拜访。他已经能穿上衣服了。他还给我看，他的伤口也渐渐愈合了。牛皮癣也退了好多。 之后，弟弟的皮肤病越来越向好的方向发展。在他乔迁之喜的日子里，亲戚朋友都来贺喜。他们看到我弟弟穿起了短衣、短裤，都觉得很惊讶。弟弟因为牛皮癣的缘故，多年没有穿过短衣、短裤了。”怎么今天穿起短衣短裤了？“大家都在询问他的牛皮癣在哪里治好的？怎么治好的？母亲和弟弟都说，感谢姐姐度化我学佛念经，让我得以重生。弟弟的现身说法，使亲戚们都加我微信，跟我一起学佛念经了。真是太法喜了！ 四、三大法宝保佑母亲度过77岁和79岁关劫，治愈了她的老年痴呆症，并从此免去血透之苦 2015年，我母亲78岁。师父开示过，77岁和79岁都是劫，所以我妈妈已经踏入危险年龄段了。大年初三，她突然从床上摔下来，不省人事，大小便都拉在裤子上。我们连忙把她送到医院急诊室，CT显示是脑干脑梗。医生说脑梗的位置不好，你们要有心里准备。冬季是心脑病高发期，医院床位紧张。在这紧急关头，在医院里，我对着天空当场许愿：给母亲放生1200条鲫鱼、49只甲鱼、49条黑鱼、108张经文组合，并转让了网络法布施的功德。我祈求菩萨慈悲能让我母亲住进病房，让母亲得到更好的治疗。 没想到，第二天一大早，医生就通知我们去办理住院手续。周边急诊的病人家属告诉我们，他们进急诊5天了，也没有住进病房。我们昨天晚上才来，第二天就能住进病房了，还以为我们是走后门送礼了。这时，我更加真切地感受到“许愿、念经、放生”三大法宝的神奇作用，太灵验了！或许是我的孝心感动了菩萨，更多惊喜连连出现。入院第二天，母亲就苏醒了，而且手脚活动自如。本来需要用很昂贵的进口药也都不用了。连医生都说出现了奇迹！我们把省下的钱都放生了。 母亲是和我弟弟、弟媳一起住的。她虽然出院了，毕竟是脑干脑梗，还是留下了后遗症。从那以后，她得了失忆症、狂躁症、老年痴呆症，天天在家和弟媳妇吵架。她一会儿怀疑弟媳妇偷她东西，一会怀疑弟媳妇往她吃的饭里下毒药，天天把家里搞得鸡犬不宁。几个兄弟都想把老母亲送到精神病院去，但被我阻止了。 我对弟弟、弟媳说，给我3个星期时间，我帮母亲念经。如果母亲没有得到改善，就按你们的方法做，送去精神病院；如果好了，就继续在弟弟家安养天年。我回家后，赶紧上香跟菩萨许愿：三周内帮母亲烧送108张经文组合，放生1200条鱼，把当月网络法布施的功德转给母亲50％。第一拔108张经文组合烧送后，母亲并没有明显好转。 于是，我再许愿念诵108张经文组合。就在第二波经文组合烧送了42张的时候，突然有天早上，母亲像换了一个人一样，走到弟弟、弟媳面前对他们说：“对不起，给你们添麻烦了。”我弟弟高兴地打电话给我：“妈妈好了，谢谢你姐姐。如果不是你用佛法救母亲，母亲现在不知道会怎样了。” 弟弟还说，弟媳看到我母亲病好了，哭得很伤心、很后悔。因为她想起了，她的父母也是老年痴呆症。由于她当初不信佛，所以她们姐妹先后把她们的父母送去养老院。不到半年，弟媳的父母相继去世。虽然我早就把所有的法宝都给她了，但是她一直不信佛、没有学，错失良机，没有为自己的爹妈尽到孝心。所以，弟媳很后悔、很伤心。 通过学佛念经，母亲的肌酐指标也稳定了。她本来有慢性肾炎的，需要做血透的，现在也不要做了。母亲虽然不识字，在我的指导帮助下，现在她自己也每天念经，还能念出1-2张经文组合。 五、三大法宝妙无言，晚期胃癌变胃炎 2023年，母亲86岁，进入369关。2023年春节前，老母亲业障爆发：上吐下泻，胃痛难忍，吃什么吐什么；每天不挂盐水，就根本止不住。大年初八那天，母亲在一家普通医院的急诊室里输液时，突然之间疼痛难忍，又吐了。医生说，叫救护车送大医院吧！母亲在大医院做了一系列的检查，最后被确诊为：胃癌晚期。于是，医生给母亲安排了床位，准备过几天动手术。医生说，看病情，您母亲这个胃癌至少已经存在十年了。 我想：母亲毕竟年事已高，身体虚弱。既然是胃癌晚期了，就不要让她再承受手术和放疗、化疗的痛苦了。师父开示过：癌症一般都是灵性病，要许大愿。这时，我想到了身边的戴师兄。当初医生说她先生是胸腺瘤晚期，肿瘤巨大，已经压迫心脏，可能会马上走人。医院已经没有办法开刀、做化疗了。戴师兄通过运用心灵法门的三大法宝，救了她的先生。现在她先生也是师父的弟子，胸腺癌症痊愈已经6-7年了。所以，我相信通过运用念经、许愿、放生这三大法宝，在菩萨的保佑下，一定会让母亲好转的。 春节期间，我们弘法团队的弘法工作非常忙。外地的师兄邀请我们作为嘉宾去弘法。在母亲住院的那几天，我非常犹豫是否去外地弘法，因为我一心牵挂着母亲。但是，我们弘法的日子是早就定下来的。外地师兄为了我们能去弘法，做了精心的筹备工作。有好几次，我们每到一个地方，都有师兄梦到要在当地开法会了。我怎么能打退堂鼓呢？我怎么能让菩萨和师父失望呢？最终，我还是选择了外出弘法度众！ 到了外地后，弟弟告诉我，母亲马上要开刀了。我想为母亲放生，但是过年期间，很多鱼老板都回家过年了，没有鱼可以放。我忍不住伤心、掉眼泪！不过，一位师兄在朋友圈看到有个鱼老板还在卖鱼。感恩菩萨慈悲保佑！我请师兄们帮我从鱼老板那里买1200条鲫鱼、49只甲鱼和49条黑鱼为母亲放生，在两天内放完【备注2】。同时，师兄们在放生现场还为母亲助念了《大悲咒》。大家共同祈福、祝愿我的母亲早日康复。我也转了每天法布施30%的功德和三天在外地弘法50%的功德给母亲。我许愿两年内帮母亲的要经者念诵1000张经文组合。第二天，师兄们出钱主动为母亲助缘放生了1200条鲫鱼，又为母亲助念了《大悲咒》。师兄们无缘大慈、同体大悲的菩萨行为，让我非常感动！真的非常感恩！ 感恩菩萨慈悲保佑！奇迹真的出现了！第三天，母亲就恢复得像正常人一样，在病床上念经。医生和同病房里的人都说：老太太真的太不可思议了，怎么昨天和今天判若两人呢？ 我们就决定不让母亲做手术、放化疗了，让母亲出院回家。医生吓唬弟弟说：“你母亲的病这么严重，出院后也会马上又送进来的。”弟弟害怕了，犹豫不决。我说：“别怕，就算咱妈动了手术，浑身插满管子，她的生活质量肯定也是不行的，还不如让她善始善终。” 然后，我很冷静地对弟弟说：“让母亲出院吧！生活上由你来照顾，帮助母亲解除病痛的事就交给我，放心吧！”弟弟非常相信我会再一次创造奇迹，答应把母亲从医院接回家照顾。 我回家后，每天为母亲烧送经文组合，而且又为母亲大放生了2次，并陆续放生了一些刀下鱼，转了一些法布施的功德给母亲。医生曾经告诫母亲出院后不能吃饭，只能喝粥。但是，母亲不但可以正常吃饭了，也不呕吐了！弟弟觉得母亲比在医院时还精神！ 不过，弟弟还是不放心，以为母亲是回光返照。于是，弟弟带母亲去了另外一个大医院又做了一次检查，并把所有的检查报告和片子都交给专家看。仅仅二个多月的时间，一个很大的胃瘤变得越来越小。最后一张片子几乎看不到肿瘤的踪迹了。最后，专家确认为胃炎。专家说：“这样的病人，从来没有见过，真是不可思议！” 母亲对弟弟说：如果你们出去旅游，要避开双休日，因为你姐姐双休日要去弘法、做功德，没法来照顾我。只有让她多做功德，才能救我。现在，只要我说去弘法度众，全家都支持！ 我真心感恩菩萨治好了母亲的病，让我更有动力去帮助更多的有缘众生。我要像师父一样，把弘法利生当做自己的使命！ 感恩伟大的观世音菩萨！感恩无我利他的师父！“有妈在，家就在！”是心灵法门救了我们全家，让我们能够为父母尽孝。我现在每周给妈妈的要经者14张小房子，请菩萨保佑我妈妈能够平平安安。 如今，我们家，我娘家，我婆家，我邻居，只要认识我的基本上都在修我们法门。曾经，梦里师父带我参观心灵净土（斗战胜佛开示：“西方极乐世界东面靠左一点是心灵净土，是将来修成正果的众弟子往生居住的世界，观音村道场也在心灵净土。”）。师父开示说，师父在天上等着我们。 我们都是菩萨的孩子，我们也是师父的孩子，让我们携起手来，让这么好的佛法遍地开花。 再次感恩南无释迦牟尼佛，感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨，感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨及龙天护法金刚菩萨！感恩弘法度众舍身忘我的恩师慈父LJH台长！ 有不如理不如法之处，祈请南无大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业自己背，不让师兄们背！ 分享人：郑同修 感恩合十 2022-08-24 收到 2022-09-14 发布 (师父博客，佛学基础知识问答博客) 2023-03-11 发布 英文版 您想改变命运吗？ 我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“读《白话佛法》、大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。 欢迎联络Lily佛友：[sunnypurplelily@gmail.com](mailto:sunnypurplelily@gmail.com) 或者加Lily佛友微信：HanJing20210820 Disclaimer of Liability: The contents of the presentation and answers, including text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided strictly for reference purposes. Due to the unique nature of individual karma, results similar to those experienced by the authors may not be replicated. The experiences and advice shared should not be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis. In the event of an emergency, it is crucial to promptly contact your doctor or emergency services by dialing 911. Relying on any information found in the answers is done solely at your own risk. The translator and answerer bear no responsibility for the consequences. By using or misusing the contents, you accept liability for any personal injury, including death. It is imperative to exercise caution and seek professional medical guidance for health-related concerns. |
2023.12.26 23:28 MjolnirPants Jerry and the Lost Kingdom: Part 22
Part 21
When I stepped inside our apartment with pizza and a bottle of wine, I saw two heads on the couch, watching the show. I recognized both.
"I only got one pizza, so we're going to have to go light if you're staying for dinner," I said, recognizing the curly hair. Inanna tilted her head back to grin at me. "How much wine did you get?"
"Nowhere near enough," I said. "Fortunately, we still have a few bottles laying around."
Sarisa paused the show and got to her feet, meeting me in the kitchen with a hug and a kiss. "Inanna showed up right after I called," she said.
"Stop trying to steal my wife," I called out to the living room. A middle finger responded, making me snort back a laugh. My jealousy was an affect, of course. These two had been best friends since before the pyramids were erected.
"I'm here to steal you from her," she said. "Gonna show you what a pulmonary orgasm feels like."
I winced at that notion. "I don't think I want to know," I said, uncorking the wine and pulling three glasses from the cabinet. Sarisa busied herself making plates of pizza.
"You only say that because you've never had one."
"Well, I'm doomed to ignorance I guess," I said. "I won't cheat on Sarisa."
"Smart man," Sarisa said, giving me a peck on the cheek as she walked back out to the living room, plates in hand. Inanna didn't respond right away. I picked up the half-full wineglasses and carried them out, taking my usual seat on the couch. I handed out the plates and took a bite of my first slice, noticing that Inanna wasn't eating. Instead, she had a strange look on her face as she stared off into the distance.
"Earth to Inanna," I said. "You okay, space cadet?"
She blinked and shook her head. "Yeah... I just... I had a weird urge."
"Have you ever had an urge that wasn't weird?" Sarisa asked.
Inanna blew a sharp breath out of her nose. "No, but this one was different. Actually, maybe you might know something about it."
"I don't have access to my old domains, but if I don't know, I can always ask Heptus."
Heptus was the divine emanation who'd been there to take Sarisa's domains when she gave them up. He had been her top servant for millennia, and the best choice to carry on, now that she'd effectively retired from godhood.
"When Jerry said he wouldn't cheat on you, I got a flash of bitterness and the urge to say that he'd cheat on me with you."
"That is weird," Sarisa agreed. "Mostly because I doubt anyone would ever cheat on you. I mean, what's the upside?"
Inanna glanced at her. "Cheating is about getting something different, not necessarily getting something better. Regardless, the urge I just felt was like... I dunno. It was like someone else took over my mind for a split second, and was reacting for me."
"It wasn't me," Sarisa said. "I don't think Jerry has ever cheated on me with, well, me. Or you."
"I have been eternally faithful to you, my lovely wife," I said, kissing her on the cheek. She wiped away a bit of pizza grease, but favored me with a smile. "You are the very picture of fidelity, my lovely husband," she replied.
"Yeah, I've never fucked Jerry," Inanna said. "And it wasn't you... It was me, it was just, like... Another me."
She sighed and stuffed her mouth with some pizza. "Whatever it was," she said around the bite, "It's passed."
"Hmm," Sarisa said. "It sounds like a favored timeline fragment."
Inanna sighed. She grabbed the remote to pause the show again and gave Sarisa a level look. I understood. Sarisa's tone made it clear that she'd slipped into puzzle mode. It was something we both did. We'd find a puzzle and get hung up on it, unable to do anything else until we solved it.
"What's a favored timeline?" she said. Sarisa leaned forward, speaking excitedly as we listened.
"It's a timeline in which certain aspects have a sort of metaphysical weight to them. They can resonate across different timelines, manifesting in the form of out of place memories or emotions."
"Are you saying," I said, speaking slowly. "That there's a timeline in which I'm in a relationship with Inanna? And I cheated on her with you?"
Inanna laughed and Sarisa shrugged. "I'm just saying what it sounded like to me."
"No offense, Jerry, but I can't imagine there's a world where I'd get that bitter about you having a little slap and tickle with Sarisa. I'm as poly as they come." She gestured at her shirt, a dark gray tee with the words 'I'm not a whore. I do it for fun, not money.' printed on it.
I snorted. Yeah. Inanna was not really the jealous type. I put it out of my mind as we turned back to the show.
----
We watched two more episodes and went through three more bottles of wine before it got too late. I was feeling it a bit, as was Sarisa, though obviously, Inanna wasn't. We walked her to the door.
"Oh, before I go," Inanna said to Sarisa. "I'm going shopping in Paris tomorrow with Sookie, do you want to come?"
The name triggered something inside of me. I saw myself drawling out "Soooookaayyyyyy," mocking the male lead from True Blood, an old show about vampires. The memory was strange, though.
It was intense, as if it was an important memory. Which made no sense, making a joke about an old show wasn't exactly important. But there was something else there. I could feel it around the edges of the memory. A sense of sympathy for someone who was broken, but struggling to keep it together. Love, like for a sister almost, but not quite. And a deep sense of familiarity.
It was all very weird, because I didn't know who Sookie was.
"Who's Sookie?" I asked.
"Oh, that's right, you haven't met her," Inanna said. "It's Ohma, the former goddess of sex. She went the Asura route after the war, but things went different for her, and she came out more depressed than psychotic. She's been living among humanity for a while now, going by the name of Succubus."
"Succubus?" I asked. Sarisa nodded. "Yeah, she's the origin of the legends. She doesn't actually suck the life out of men. That's just hyperbole."
"Succubus is a mouthful," Inanna said. "So I call her Sookie."
I nodded, but it felt wrong.... I felt like she was taking credit for something I'd done, even though that made no sense. "What, uh..." I was feeling a little flustered, though I couldn't explain it. "What does she do for a living?" I asked. I was almost certain I knew her, though I couldn't quite picture her.
"She has an OnlyFans," Inanna said with a little chuckle. "Honestly, she's kind of a neckbeard. She plays video games all day, when she's not bouncing on a dildo for an audience. You should check it out, though. It's XxSuckUrBussy69xX."
She spelled out the username and I took note. I was no stranger to porn. With Sarisa's lack of desires, I sometimes decided to spare her the trouble and took matters into my own hands. She didn't mind, she even encouraged it. Just because she liked to keep me happy didn't mean it wasn't a bit of an effort for her, and I surely didn't want her running herself ragged on my behalf.
"You gonna look her up tonight?" Sarisa asked me. I studied her face for a moment, gauging her emotions. I decided she looked a little disappointed.
"No," I said. "I'm gonna pester you until you let me do bad things to you." Sarisa suppressed a laugh.
"To your butt, specifically," I said. Sarisa lost it. "Okay, Romeo," she replied, laughing.
Inanna patted me on the shoulder. "Remember, lube is for pussies. Go in dry, she can bite the pillow."
"Fuck you!" Sarisa laughed. "And yes, I'd like to go shopping with you and Sookie. Jerry, do you think you could maybe get the day off? I mean, Paris..."
"I'm tenured," I said. "I can take the year off."
Inanna gasped. "When did you get tenured?"
"Last month," I said, grinning proudly.
"How? You've only been there for what, a decade?"
I nodded. "My book on the proto-pantheon has over four thousand cites in the literature. They fast-tracked me."
"Well, congratulations! Why didn't you tell me before then?" Inanna asked, wrapping me in a hug. I hugged back.
"I don't like to brag," I said. Sarisa scoffed. "You only don't like to brag about the stuff you can actually brag about," she said. I stuck my tongue out at her.
Inanna gave me a poke in the ribs. "You were bragging earlier. So I take it that means you're actually a needle-dicked bug-fucker?"
I sighed. "Yeah. It's a micropenis." I hung my head in false shame and we all had a good laugh.
"Okay, I'll be by around nine, is that good?"
"Works for me," I said. "That's perfect," Sarisa added. We finalized our goodbyes and then Sarisa and I went to bed.
"You really want to do some butt stuff?" she asked as we undressed. We always slept naked.
"I mean, if you want to, but honestly, I'm still thinking about what you said about favored timelines."
Sarisa tossed her clothes in the hamper and climbed into bed, pulling the sheet up to her hips. "Wondering if there's a world where you and Inanna got together instead of you and I?" she asked.
"Heh," I said, stripping off my pants and underwear and adding them to the bin. I climbed into bed with her and we cuddled up.
"I don't really see that happening," I said. "She's kinda the opposite of my type, if you know what I mean."
Sarisa nestled herself under my arm. Her slim body fit perfectly into the space and she began to run her fingers over my chest. "I mean, that's not really an obstacle," she said. "Inanna's always liked wide-eyed, honest men, and that's exactly who you were when we first met. If we weren't together by the time you met her, she might have... Well, don't think too poorly of her because she's a goddess, and from a very different time, but she might have just raped you."
"I don't think she would do that," I said. "She's pretty thoughtful. Not the kind to ignore consent."
"No, she's not, but she is the kind to push hard on an impressionable young man, getting his consent through sheer stubbornness."
I nodded. "That, I can picture."
"So why were you still thinking about it?" she asked. I frowned in thought, flicking the light off.
"When she mentioned her friend, I had some... Well, some feelings. Almost like a memory, like what you described. Like I knew Sookie, and it was me who gave her that name."
"Huh," Sarisa said. Her hand stopped moving.
"You think maybe this is some kind of favored timeline thing?"
"If it is, then something happened. It would mean that the timeline we're living in was created by some event that caused that timeline to diverge into this one."
"You think maybe this is worth looking into?" I asked.
"Maybe... It's certainly interesting."
"Very interesting," I said in a pseudo-German accent. She giggled into my armpit, and then her hand slipped down my belly to grab my dick. It instantly reacted to her touch, stiffening.
"What's this now?" I asked.
"Maybe I do want to do something," she said, laying a couple of kisses on my chest. "Just not butt stuff."
She was always willing to help me with my urges, so I did not begrudge her own. I rolled over and pulled her in tightly, my lips meeting hers and my hands wandering.
----
The next morning found me on my computer, sipping coffee and looking up Sookie's OnlyFans. Sarisa slept in a little, so I left enough coffee in the machine for her as I did my research. Around seven forty-five, she stepped into my office, a coffee mug in hand. "Huh, didn't think you'd be raring to go again so soon after last night," she said. I chuckled.
"I was just looking up Inanna's friend," I said.
She grabbed the spare chair and wheeled it up. "What's that one?" she asked, pointing at a video thumbnail. I clicked it and then maximized the video window. We watched a red-skinned, scaled demoness take a dildo the size of my forearm in all three holes.
"Wow, I'm kinda impressed," I admitted.
"That's certainly a talent," Sarisa agreed. "Does this turn you on?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "This is too much. Gives some serious 'hot dog in a hallway' vibes. It's interesting, but in an almost morbid way. Look at her skin, though."
"Her scales, you mean," Sarisa said. "Asuras tend to take on a lizard-like appearance, it's a side effect of the magic twisting their minds. When they make bodies, they get twisted into that."
"So that's where the ideas of demons come from?" I asked. She laughed. "No. That's just coincidence, really. The idea of demons as scaled and horned humanoids is pretty modern, you should know that."
I shrugged. "Common-era Europe isn't my focus. I'm no more an expert on that than anyone, really." She slapped me gently as she slipped her coffee.
"That's no excuse," she said. "Git gud, chump." I chuckled and looked back at the screen. I found a link to her blog and clicked on it. She wrote mostly about video games and sexual fantasies. There wasn't a lot that really shed light on who she was.
"So does she look familiar?"
I looked at a photo on her blog for a second. "Red-skinned sexy demon, not exactly a unique look," I said. "At least not on the internet."
"You know all about that rule thirty four stuff, huh?" Sarisa asked, teasingly.
I shrugged. "I was a different guy, then. Lonelier and hornier."
"Well, I'll tell you what. After we get home tonight, I'll paint myself red and let you do butt stuff to me."
"Deal," I said, then quickly added "No takesies backsies. You're locked in now."
She laughed. "You're such a pervert, sometimes." I grinned. "I'll be the grossest pervert in the world if it gets a giggle out of you."
"Hmmm, good answer," she said. She leaned forward and gave me a chaste kiss. I tried for a little longer of a kiss, but she pulled back.
"Uh uh, I need to brush my teeth, first."
"Well, go do it. I wants me kissies," I said.
----
Inanna showed up at nine, and we were ready to go. She took our hands and teleported us to the Avenue de Champes Elyses. We appeared in front of a high fashion boutique and I immediately spotted Sookie.
She was kind of hard to miss, dressed in a schoolgirl outfit with the top tied off to expose her midriff and the skirt short enough that I immediately understood that I'd learn whether she was wearing underwear the first time she bent over. The bright red skin and horns were pretty distinctive, too.
As was usually the case with the gods, she had an aura about her that tended to deflect attention, so most of the crowd didn't spare more than a glance. It was usually men who did look at her, their eyes drawn by her outfit.
Inanna spoke up. "Sookie, you remember Sarisa. This is her husband, Jerry. Jerry, this is Sookie."
She gave me an uneasy smile and offered a hand. "Hi, Jerry," she said. I shook her hand, and then, on an impulse, kissed the back of it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sookie,"I said.
She flushed a darker shade of red and tittered, batting her eyelashes at me. "Uh, yeah, it's, uh... It's a pleasure. Sorry, I'm not good with..." she waved around.
"Me neither," I assured her. "Sarisa's been training me to be more sociable, but it's slow going."
"Like teaching ballet to a crocodile," Sarisa deadpanned. Sookie laughed and turned to her, and they hugged.
"It's good to see you again," Sookie said.
"You too," Sarisa replied.
"You guys want to check this place out?" Inanna asked. "It looks a little expensive, but I'll cover it."
"Yes!" both women replied. We went inside.
----
We were laden with bags from a wide variety of shops by the time we stopped for lunch at around one. The hostess seated us, and when the waitress came to take our order, I felt it again. That same deja vu sense of knowing someone, only this time, it was her face. She wore dark lipstick, and her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, had a purple stripe in it. She looked to be about thirty, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her.
I frowned and recalled my French. "Êtes-vous Lya?" I asked. She smiled uncertainly at us.
"Yes," she said, apparently recognizing my accent. "Do we know each other?"
"I don't know," I said... "I feel like I do, and I remember your name, but I don't recall where I know you from..."
"Have you been to Paris before? I've lived here my whole life."
"I have, but only short trips..."
"I used to work in the Disney store, just up the avenue. Perhaps we met there?"
"Huh... I feel like..." I couldn't put my finger on it. I was certain I knew her, but I could not, for the life of me, recall where. I let the strange memory roll over me, feeling it out without pushing against it. I got the sense that I knew her through someone...
"Did you date an American girl?" I asked. "No, I like girls but I have a husband," she said.
"Huh... Sarisa, do you know her?"
Sarisa frowned but shook her head. "No, I don't think I do."
"Huh, it must be a weird Deja-vu thing," I said. I tried to dismiss the feeling.
"Maybe you'll remember as you're eating," Lya said with a smile. "May I start you with some drinks?"
----
We didn't get home until late. We had so many bags that Inanna had to send some of them to some kind of magical pocket dimension. She brought us home before Sookie, so we all went in for a nightcap.
As I was pouring glasses of wine, I looked out to Inanna and Sookie sitting on the couch. They were getting a little handsy, and something about that was triggering that sense again. I stopped pouring and stared. Sarisa was making a cheese plate right next to me, and she stopped.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said absently, still staring.
"Are you getting that feeling again?" she asked. I nodded. She followed my gaze to the two women in the living room. Inanna had enough class not to start the sex that seemed inevitable in our living room, but they were still quite close to each other, muttering quietly. I couldn't see their hands, but their elbows and shoulders were moving in a way that suggested a lot of rubbing.
"Watching those two..." Sarisa said thoughtfully.
"Jerry," she continued after a moment. "I want to try something, will you go along with it?"
"Huh?" I asked.
"An experiment. I'm going to use some magic to try to empower these memories. I want to see what happens."
I shook my head, a little confused. "What if it turns out that... You know..."
"That you have some history with Inanna in the alternate timeline?" Sarisa asked. "You'll probably act on it."
I shook my head some more. "I don't like this. I don't want to do something I'll regret."
"It's not going to control your brain, silly," Sarisa said. "You'll still be you, I just want to see what both of you remember when I do it."
"You're sure I'm not gonna go fling myself at her?" Sarisa narrowed her eyes at me. "Is that something you want to do?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "No, like, seriously no. Inanna's wild, babe. Some of the stories she's told... I fully believe her. She's into some weird, body-horror shit that is decidedly not my bag."
"Then you'll be fine. Just go out there. I'll work my magic and we'll see what happens."
"Okay, but if I do something, I want you to know that it's not me."
Sarisa smiled and kissed me. "I know, baby. It'll be fine, trust me."
I nodded and gathered the wineglasses, walking them out to the living room and putting them on the coffee table. Sookie pulled her hand out from behind Inanna's back, where she'd probably been grabbing a handful of ass or something.
"Inanna, have you been experiencing more of those moments, like last night?" I asked. She nodded.
"Just now, when you put the wine glasses down. It was like heavy Deja-vu. I can't... There wasn't anything else to it, just that feeling like we've done this before."
"Sarisa's going to try something, to boost the memories," I said.
"You guys think it was what she said? A favored timeline?" I nodded.
"Is that what happened at lunch, with the waitress?" Sookie asked.
"I think so," I said, taking a seat on the couch next to them.
"I'm ready," Sarisa called. "Just relax and tell me what you remember."
I felt the odd tingling sensation of magic settling on me a second later. I looked around, waiting for something to happen.
"Nothing," Inanna said after a moment.
"I don't know if I should be feeling anything," Sookie added, "but I'm not."
"Huh," Sarisa said. "Maybe it was you two necking. Go ahead and do it again."
"Necking?" Inanna asked with a look over her shoulder.
"Feeling each other up, then," Sarisa said. "Go on. Get handsy."
"I'm down," Sookie said. Inanna smirked at her. "You're always ready," she said.
Sookie looked at me. "Are you gonna... You know. Get in on it?"
"I'm just watching," I said, then winced. That sounded wrong. Sookie grinned, then leaned over Inanna and kissed her. With her knees up on the couch, I finally got the confirmation I'd been waiting for. She was not, in fact, wearing underwear. I looked away quickly.
I felt distinctly uncomfortable, so I stood up.
"Don't go anywhere," Sarisa said. With a sigh, I sat back down. I thought maybe I was feeling something, now, but I wasn't sure.
"Look at them," Sarisa said. "Tell me what you feel."
I looked over. Sookie's butt was right in my face. I could clearly see that she was wet. Almost dripping, in fact. Without even thinking about it, I lifted a hand and rested it on her bottom.
She moaned a little in response, her lips still pressed to Inanna's. Inanna's hand slid in between Sookie's legs and she worked two fingers inside her for just a moment, and then reached out and took my hand.
As soon as she touched it, something hit me like a ton of bricks.
I've done this before. With Inanna and Sookie, specifically. I remember it like it was something we'd done often. I let Inanne pull my hand down to Sookie's pussy and I began to play with her, without even thinking about it.
"Wow," I heard Sarisa say. Her voice was closer. I looked up, and it all ended. I snatched my hand back.
"I didn't mean to..." I started to object, but Sarisa just shook her head. "Tell me," she said.
"I felt like I'd done it before, with both of them. A lot," I said. "Like a regular thing."
"Okay. Anything specific?" she asked. I shook my head. She walked over and perched on my knee. The other two were ignoring us, caught up in their play.
"No," I said, "And it vanished when you spoke."
"My presence might be interfering it. Grounding you in this timeline. I can go in the other room for a bit," she said.
"No, don't," I objected. "If you do, I'm afraid I'll..." I gestured. Sarisa glanced over and laughed. "No underwear. I shouldn't be surprised. I just hope she doesn't stain the couch..." She looked back at me and took my jaw in her hand, then kissed me.
"It's okay. This is for science, babe, and I mean that literally. You know how I am. If something happens, it's not you, it's some other Jerry. I would greatly prefer if you didn't take it too far, but... I don't really see any other way."
I sighed. "Fine," I said. After a decade together, I still hadn't figured out how to put my foot down with her. She stood and looked at the others.
"Inanna, are you getting anything?" she asked. Inanna pulled back.
"When I touched Jerry's hand," she said, sounding breathless. "Stars and stones, I'm horny as shit right now. I haven't been this tuned up in a long time, Sarisa."
"Sookie?" Sarisa asked.
"I want your husband's cock inside me. I don't know if that means anything. I thought he was cute ever since we met," she said, then went back to making out with Inanna.
Sarisa kissed me again. "It's okay, I promise. Just five minutes, and then I'll come back out."
"Five minutes," I said firmly. She nodded and left.
I looked back and tentatively lifted my hand. I was torn between wanting to repeat what I'd done a moment ago to see what memories it dug up, and wanting to get up and go in the other room with my wife.
With a sigh, I touched Sookie's butt again.
"Stick a finger in my ass," she said. I balked. I was pretty sure that request wasn't about learning more.
"Take my hand, Jerry," Inanna said. She slipped her hand back, and I could see the fluids on her fingertips. I hesitated, then took it, grabbing her hand and squeezing.
----
"Where are we?" I asked, suddenly realizing that we weren't in bed. Inanna tore herself away from Sookie's lips long enough to look around.
"We're in somebody's house," she said, frowning in confusion. "I don't recognize it." She looked at me, then balked.
"You look young," she said.
"What?" I asked. Sookie turned around.
"Holy shit, dude, you do look younger. And skinnier. And you don't have any magic."
"What?" I asked again, and then reached inside for my wells. But there were none there. I could feel the magic of the world around me, passing through me, and I was able to tap into it, but my wells were gone. I looked at Inanna. "Dude, what the fuck?!" she said, standing up. She took several steps backwards, looking around.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"My wells..." she said. "They're gone... I... My divinities are back..."
"What the hell?" I wondered out loud.
"Holy shit guys, what just happened?" Sookie asked. She glanced down. "Why am I even wearing this? I never wear clothes unless I'm in my human skin."
"What happened?" I asked nobody in particular.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Inanna asked.
"We were... Uh... In a medieval city... I think. It's fuzzy..." I tried to remember further back. I could remember comforting Sara after that incident at the summer camp had traumatized. I remembered getting ready for the new school year.... Those memories were clear, but they started to get blurrier as they got more recent.
"We were investigating something..." Inanna added, frowning in thought herself. "Storms, I think. There was a girl... She was... She was one of yours," she finished, looking at Sookie.
"Mine?" Sookie asked. "Like a worshiper?"
"Yeah, a devotee of the Sacred Lovers," Inanna said.
"Dude, there haven't been any of those in ten thousand or more years," Sookie said.
Suddenly, I had an idea. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I drawled.
"What?" Inanna asked, recognizing the significance of me cursing.
"I think we fucked up the timeline," I said. Inanna's eyes widened. "Oh shit," she said. Just then, a door opened. I looked over and my heart fell into my stomach. It was her.
Sarisa.
She walked out, an uncertain smile on her lips. "Did you guys get anything?" she asked.
"Get anything what?" Sookie asked. Sarisa walked over to me and took my hand, then kissed me. I recoiled, making her frown.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her brows drawn down in concern.
"You're..." I said... "You're alive."
"You're mortal!" Inanna gasped.
Sarisa looked at her. "What?"
I felt something stirring inside of me. I didn't have my magic, so I worked using all the mental tricks and techniques I'd picked up over a decade of working with magic, much of it mind magic. I isolated the feeling and slowly let it back out, paying attention to how I felt as I looked around the room. It was memories. They were slipping into my head, alongside my own memories, crowding them out. They were memories of the recent past, though by recent, I mean a good chunk of my life right before this point.
"Do you feel that?" I asked Inanna and Sookie. Both nodded. "It's like I'm forgetting," Sookie said.
----
I took Inanna's hand and then, the next thing I knew, I was standing up. All of us were standing, in fact. Sarisa was holding my hand, not Inanna, and she was giving me a look.
"Forgetting?" she asked, looking back and forth between all three of us.
"Huh?" Inanna asked.
"Sookie, you said you were forgetting something?"
"I did?" Sookie asked. Sarisa frowned some more.
"Something is up," she said. "You three just acted like you were shocked to see me. Like I was dead or something."
"We did?" I asked. She nodded. "You literally gasped out 'you're alive!' to me, just a second ago."
"I don't remember that," I said, then I felt a niggling sensation. I let it come, and suddenly, Sarisa's words made sense. Sort of.
"Wait," I said. "I do remember saying that, but I don't remember why..."
Sarisa hugged me suddenly, squeezing my body tightly. "Jerry, something's up for sure. These are definitely echoes from a favored timeline. Something happened, and if we don't figure out what, it's going to get worse."
"Define worse?" I asked.
"Like, temporal loops and paradoxes and destroyed universes," she said. "Time is nothing to fuck with, but somebody's been fucking with it. We need to find out what changed in the past and set it right."
Her words echoed through my mind as I remembered what I'd just said. I'd been shocked to learn she was still alive, even though we've been married for years. I had been shocked because this other version of me came from a timeline where she'd been dead.
I didn't know what happened in that other timeline, and I was pretty sure I really didn't want to know. My heart began to flutter in my chest.
Part 23
submitted by MjolnirPants to JerryandtheGoddesses [link] [comments]
When I stepped inside our apartment with pizza and a bottle of wine, I saw two heads on the couch, watching the show. I recognized both.
"I only got one pizza, so we're going to have to go light if you're staying for dinner," I said, recognizing the curly hair. Inanna tilted her head back to grin at me. "How much wine did you get?"
"Nowhere near enough," I said. "Fortunately, we still have a few bottles laying around."
Sarisa paused the show and got to her feet, meeting me in the kitchen with a hug and a kiss. "Inanna showed up right after I called," she said.
"Stop trying to steal my wife," I called out to the living room. A middle finger responded, making me snort back a laugh. My jealousy was an affect, of course. These two had been best friends since before the pyramids were erected.
"I'm here to steal you from her," she said. "Gonna show you what a pulmonary orgasm feels like."
I winced at that notion. "I don't think I want to know," I said, uncorking the wine and pulling three glasses from the cabinet. Sarisa busied herself making plates of pizza.
"You only say that because you've never had one."
"Well, I'm doomed to ignorance I guess," I said. "I won't cheat on Sarisa."
"Smart man," Sarisa said, giving me a peck on the cheek as she walked back out to the living room, plates in hand. Inanna didn't respond right away. I picked up the half-full wineglasses and carried them out, taking my usual seat on the couch. I handed out the plates and took a bite of my first slice, noticing that Inanna wasn't eating. Instead, she had a strange look on her face as she stared off into the distance.
"Earth to Inanna," I said. "You okay, space cadet?"
She blinked and shook her head. "Yeah... I just... I had a weird urge."
"Have you ever had an urge that wasn't weird?" Sarisa asked.
Inanna blew a sharp breath out of her nose. "No, but this one was different. Actually, maybe you might know something about it."
"I don't have access to my old domains, but if I don't know, I can always ask Heptus."
Heptus was the divine emanation who'd been there to take Sarisa's domains when she gave them up. He had been her top servant for millennia, and the best choice to carry on, now that she'd effectively retired from godhood.
"When Jerry said he wouldn't cheat on you, I got a flash of bitterness and the urge to say that he'd cheat on me with you."
"That is weird," Sarisa agreed. "Mostly because I doubt anyone would ever cheat on you. I mean, what's the upside?"
Inanna glanced at her. "Cheating is about getting something different, not necessarily getting something better. Regardless, the urge I just felt was like... I dunno. It was like someone else took over my mind for a split second, and was reacting for me."
"It wasn't me," Sarisa said. "I don't think Jerry has ever cheated on me with, well, me. Or you."
"I have been eternally faithful to you, my lovely wife," I said, kissing her on the cheek. She wiped away a bit of pizza grease, but favored me with a smile. "You are the very picture of fidelity, my lovely husband," she replied.
"Yeah, I've never fucked Jerry," Inanna said. "And it wasn't you... It was me, it was just, like... Another me."
She sighed and stuffed her mouth with some pizza. "Whatever it was," she said around the bite, "It's passed."
"Hmm," Sarisa said. "It sounds like a favored timeline fragment."
Inanna sighed. She grabbed the remote to pause the show again and gave Sarisa a level look. I understood. Sarisa's tone made it clear that she'd slipped into puzzle mode. It was something we both did. We'd find a puzzle and get hung up on it, unable to do anything else until we solved it.
"What's a favored timeline?" she said. Sarisa leaned forward, speaking excitedly as we listened.
"It's a timeline in which certain aspects have a sort of metaphysical weight to them. They can resonate across different timelines, manifesting in the form of out of place memories or emotions."
"Are you saying," I said, speaking slowly. "That there's a timeline in which I'm in a relationship with Inanna? And I cheated on her with you?"
Inanna laughed and Sarisa shrugged. "I'm just saying what it sounded like to me."
"No offense, Jerry, but I can't imagine there's a world where I'd get that bitter about you having a little slap and tickle with Sarisa. I'm as poly as they come." She gestured at her shirt, a dark gray tee with the words 'I'm not a whore. I do it for fun, not money.' printed on it.
I snorted. Yeah. Inanna was not really the jealous type. I put it out of my mind as we turned back to the show.
----
We watched two more episodes and went through three more bottles of wine before it got too late. I was feeling it a bit, as was Sarisa, though obviously, Inanna wasn't. We walked her to the door.
"Oh, before I go," Inanna said to Sarisa. "I'm going shopping in Paris tomorrow with Sookie, do you want to come?"
The name triggered something inside of me. I saw myself drawling out "Soooookaayyyyyy," mocking the male lead from True Blood, an old show about vampires. The memory was strange, though.
It was intense, as if it was an important memory. Which made no sense, making a joke about an old show wasn't exactly important. But there was something else there. I could feel it around the edges of the memory. A sense of sympathy for someone who was broken, but struggling to keep it together. Love, like for a sister almost, but not quite. And a deep sense of familiarity.
It was all very weird, because I didn't know who Sookie was.
"Who's Sookie?" I asked.
"Oh, that's right, you haven't met her," Inanna said. "It's Ohma, the former goddess of sex. She went the Asura route after the war, but things went different for her, and she came out more depressed than psychotic. She's been living among humanity for a while now, going by the name of Succubus."
"Succubus?" I asked. Sarisa nodded. "Yeah, she's the origin of the legends. She doesn't actually suck the life out of men. That's just hyperbole."
"Succubus is a mouthful," Inanna said. "So I call her Sookie."
I nodded, but it felt wrong.... I felt like she was taking credit for something I'd done, even though that made no sense. "What, uh..." I was feeling a little flustered, though I couldn't explain it. "What does she do for a living?" I asked. I was almost certain I knew her, though I couldn't quite picture her.
"She has an OnlyFans," Inanna said with a little chuckle. "Honestly, she's kind of a neckbeard. She plays video games all day, when she's not bouncing on a dildo for an audience. You should check it out, though. It's XxSuckUrBussy69xX."
She spelled out the username and I took note. I was no stranger to porn. With Sarisa's lack of desires, I sometimes decided to spare her the trouble and took matters into my own hands. She didn't mind, she even encouraged it. Just because she liked to keep me happy didn't mean it wasn't a bit of an effort for her, and I surely didn't want her running herself ragged on my behalf.
"You gonna look her up tonight?" Sarisa asked me. I studied her face for a moment, gauging her emotions. I decided she looked a little disappointed.
"No," I said. "I'm gonna pester you until you let me do bad things to you." Sarisa suppressed a laugh.
"To your butt, specifically," I said. Sarisa lost it. "Okay, Romeo," she replied, laughing.
Inanna patted me on the shoulder. "Remember, lube is for pussies. Go in dry, she can bite the pillow."
"Fuck you!" Sarisa laughed. "And yes, I'd like to go shopping with you and Sookie. Jerry, do you think you could maybe get the day off? I mean, Paris..."
"I'm tenured," I said. "I can take the year off."
Inanna gasped. "When did you get tenured?"
"Last month," I said, grinning proudly.
"How? You've only been there for what, a decade?"
I nodded. "My book on the proto-pantheon has over four thousand cites in the literature. They fast-tracked me."
"Well, congratulations! Why didn't you tell me before then?" Inanna asked, wrapping me in a hug. I hugged back.
"I don't like to brag," I said. Sarisa scoffed. "You only don't like to brag about the stuff you can actually brag about," she said. I stuck my tongue out at her.
Inanna gave me a poke in the ribs. "You were bragging earlier. So I take it that means you're actually a needle-dicked bug-fucker?"
I sighed. "Yeah. It's a micropenis." I hung my head in false shame and we all had a good laugh.
"Okay, I'll be by around nine, is that good?"
"Works for me," I said. "That's perfect," Sarisa added. We finalized our goodbyes and then Sarisa and I went to bed.
"You really want to do some butt stuff?" she asked as we undressed. We always slept naked.
"I mean, if you want to, but honestly, I'm still thinking about what you said about favored timelines."
Sarisa tossed her clothes in the hamper and climbed into bed, pulling the sheet up to her hips. "Wondering if there's a world where you and Inanna got together instead of you and I?" she asked.
"Heh," I said, stripping off my pants and underwear and adding them to the bin. I climbed into bed with her and we cuddled up.
"I don't really see that happening," I said. "She's kinda the opposite of my type, if you know what I mean."
Sarisa nestled herself under my arm. Her slim body fit perfectly into the space and she began to run her fingers over my chest. "I mean, that's not really an obstacle," she said. "Inanna's always liked wide-eyed, honest men, and that's exactly who you were when we first met. If we weren't together by the time you met her, she might have... Well, don't think too poorly of her because she's a goddess, and from a very different time, but she might have just raped you."
"I don't think she would do that," I said. "She's pretty thoughtful. Not the kind to ignore consent."
"No, she's not, but she is the kind to push hard on an impressionable young man, getting his consent through sheer stubbornness."
I nodded. "That, I can picture."
"So why were you still thinking about it?" she asked. I frowned in thought, flicking the light off.
"When she mentioned her friend, I had some... Well, some feelings. Almost like a memory, like what you described. Like I knew Sookie, and it was me who gave her that name."
"Huh," Sarisa said. Her hand stopped moving.
"You think maybe this is some kind of favored timeline thing?"
"If it is, then something happened. It would mean that the timeline we're living in was created by some event that caused that timeline to diverge into this one."
"You think maybe this is worth looking into?" I asked.
"Maybe... It's certainly interesting."
"Very interesting," I said in a pseudo-German accent. She giggled into my armpit, and then her hand slipped down my belly to grab my dick. It instantly reacted to her touch, stiffening.
"What's this now?" I asked.
"Maybe I do want to do something," she said, laying a couple of kisses on my chest. "Just not butt stuff."
She was always willing to help me with my urges, so I did not begrudge her own. I rolled over and pulled her in tightly, my lips meeting hers and my hands wandering.
----
The next morning found me on my computer, sipping coffee and looking up Sookie's OnlyFans. Sarisa slept in a little, so I left enough coffee in the machine for her as I did my research. Around seven forty-five, she stepped into my office, a coffee mug in hand. "Huh, didn't think you'd be raring to go again so soon after last night," she said. I chuckled.
"I was just looking up Inanna's friend," I said.
She grabbed the spare chair and wheeled it up. "What's that one?" she asked, pointing at a video thumbnail. I clicked it and then maximized the video window. We watched a red-skinned, scaled demoness take a dildo the size of my forearm in all three holes.
"Wow, I'm kinda impressed," I admitted.
"That's certainly a talent," Sarisa agreed. "Does this turn you on?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "This is too much. Gives some serious 'hot dog in a hallway' vibes. It's interesting, but in an almost morbid way. Look at her skin, though."
"Her scales, you mean," Sarisa said. "Asuras tend to take on a lizard-like appearance, it's a side effect of the magic twisting their minds. When they make bodies, they get twisted into that."
"So that's where the ideas of demons come from?" I asked. She laughed. "No. That's just coincidence, really. The idea of demons as scaled and horned humanoids is pretty modern, you should know that."
I shrugged. "Common-era Europe isn't my focus. I'm no more an expert on that than anyone, really." She slapped me gently as she slipped her coffee.
"That's no excuse," she said. "Git gud, chump." I chuckled and looked back at the screen. I found a link to her blog and clicked on it. She wrote mostly about video games and sexual fantasies. There wasn't a lot that really shed light on who she was.
"So does she look familiar?"
I looked at a photo on her blog for a second. "Red-skinned sexy demon, not exactly a unique look," I said. "At least not on the internet."
"You know all about that rule thirty four stuff, huh?" Sarisa asked, teasingly.
I shrugged. "I was a different guy, then. Lonelier and hornier."
"Well, I'll tell you what. After we get home tonight, I'll paint myself red and let you do butt stuff to me."
"Deal," I said, then quickly added "No takesies backsies. You're locked in now."
She laughed. "You're such a pervert, sometimes." I grinned. "I'll be the grossest pervert in the world if it gets a giggle out of you."
"Hmmm, good answer," she said. She leaned forward and gave me a chaste kiss. I tried for a little longer of a kiss, but she pulled back.
"Uh uh, I need to brush my teeth, first."
"Well, go do it. I wants me kissies," I said.
----
Inanna showed up at nine, and we were ready to go. She took our hands and teleported us to the Avenue de Champes Elyses. We appeared in front of a high fashion boutique and I immediately spotted Sookie.
She was kind of hard to miss, dressed in a schoolgirl outfit with the top tied off to expose her midriff and the skirt short enough that I immediately understood that I'd learn whether she was wearing underwear the first time she bent over. The bright red skin and horns were pretty distinctive, too.
As was usually the case with the gods, she had an aura about her that tended to deflect attention, so most of the crowd didn't spare more than a glance. It was usually men who did look at her, their eyes drawn by her outfit.
Inanna spoke up. "Sookie, you remember Sarisa. This is her husband, Jerry. Jerry, this is Sookie."
She gave me an uneasy smile and offered a hand. "Hi, Jerry," she said. I shook her hand, and then, on an impulse, kissed the back of it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sookie,"I said.
She flushed a darker shade of red and tittered, batting her eyelashes at me. "Uh, yeah, it's, uh... It's a pleasure. Sorry, I'm not good with..." she waved around.
"Me neither," I assured her. "Sarisa's been training me to be more sociable, but it's slow going."
"Like teaching ballet to a crocodile," Sarisa deadpanned. Sookie laughed and turned to her, and they hugged.
"It's good to see you again," Sookie said.
"You too," Sarisa replied.
"You guys want to check this place out?" Inanna asked. "It looks a little expensive, but I'll cover it."
"Yes!" both women replied. We went inside.
----
We were laden with bags from a wide variety of shops by the time we stopped for lunch at around one. The hostess seated us, and when the waitress came to take our order, I felt it again. That same deja vu sense of knowing someone, only this time, it was her face. She wore dark lipstick, and her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, had a purple stripe in it. She looked to be about thirty, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her.
I frowned and recalled my French. "Êtes-vous Lya?" I asked. She smiled uncertainly at us.
"Yes," she said, apparently recognizing my accent. "Do we know each other?"
"I don't know," I said... "I feel like I do, and I remember your name, but I don't recall where I know you from..."
"Have you been to Paris before? I've lived here my whole life."
"I have, but only short trips..."
"I used to work in the Disney store, just up the avenue. Perhaps we met there?"
"Huh... I feel like..." I couldn't put my finger on it. I was certain I knew her, but I could not, for the life of me, recall where. I let the strange memory roll over me, feeling it out without pushing against it. I got the sense that I knew her through someone...
"Did you date an American girl?" I asked. "No, I like girls but I have a husband," she said.
"Huh... Sarisa, do you know her?"
Sarisa frowned but shook her head. "No, I don't think I do."
"Huh, it must be a weird Deja-vu thing," I said. I tried to dismiss the feeling.
"Maybe you'll remember as you're eating," Lya said with a smile. "May I start you with some drinks?"
----
We didn't get home until late. We had so many bags that Inanna had to send some of them to some kind of magical pocket dimension. She brought us home before Sookie, so we all went in for a nightcap.
As I was pouring glasses of wine, I looked out to Inanna and Sookie sitting on the couch. They were getting a little handsy, and something about that was triggering that sense again. I stopped pouring and stared. Sarisa was making a cheese plate right next to me, and she stopped.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said absently, still staring.
"Are you getting that feeling again?" she asked. I nodded. She followed my gaze to the two women in the living room. Inanna had enough class not to start the sex that seemed inevitable in our living room, but they were still quite close to each other, muttering quietly. I couldn't see their hands, but their elbows and shoulders were moving in a way that suggested a lot of rubbing.
"Watching those two..." Sarisa said thoughtfully.
"Jerry," she continued after a moment. "I want to try something, will you go along with it?"
"Huh?" I asked.
"An experiment. I'm going to use some magic to try to empower these memories. I want to see what happens."
I shook my head, a little confused. "What if it turns out that... You know..."
"That you have some history with Inanna in the alternate timeline?" Sarisa asked. "You'll probably act on it."
I shook my head some more. "I don't like this. I don't want to do something I'll regret."
"It's not going to control your brain, silly," Sarisa said. "You'll still be you, I just want to see what both of you remember when I do it."
"You're sure I'm not gonna go fling myself at her?" Sarisa narrowed her eyes at me. "Is that something you want to do?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "No, like, seriously no. Inanna's wild, babe. Some of the stories she's told... I fully believe her. She's into some weird, body-horror shit that is decidedly not my bag."
"Then you'll be fine. Just go out there. I'll work my magic and we'll see what happens."
"Okay, but if I do something, I want you to know that it's not me."
Sarisa smiled and kissed me. "I know, baby. It'll be fine, trust me."
I nodded and gathered the wineglasses, walking them out to the living room and putting them on the coffee table. Sookie pulled her hand out from behind Inanna's back, where she'd probably been grabbing a handful of ass or something.
"Inanna, have you been experiencing more of those moments, like last night?" I asked. She nodded.
"Just now, when you put the wine glasses down. It was like heavy Deja-vu. I can't... There wasn't anything else to it, just that feeling like we've done this before."
"Sarisa's going to try something, to boost the memories," I said.
"You guys think it was what she said? A favored timeline?" I nodded.
"Is that what happened at lunch, with the waitress?" Sookie asked.
"I think so," I said, taking a seat on the couch next to them.
"I'm ready," Sarisa called. "Just relax and tell me what you remember."
I felt the odd tingling sensation of magic settling on me a second later. I looked around, waiting for something to happen.
"Nothing," Inanna said after a moment.
"I don't know if I should be feeling anything," Sookie added, "but I'm not."
"Huh," Sarisa said. "Maybe it was you two necking. Go ahead and do it again."
"Necking?" Inanna asked with a look over her shoulder.
"Feeling each other up, then," Sarisa said. "Go on. Get handsy."
"I'm down," Sookie said. Inanna smirked at her. "You're always ready," she said.
Sookie looked at me. "Are you gonna... You know. Get in on it?"
"I'm just watching," I said, then winced. That sounded wrong. Sookie grinned, then leaned over Inanna and kissed her. With her knees up on the couch, I finally got the confirmation I'd been waiting for. She was not, in fact, wearing underwear. I looked away quickly.
I felt distinctly uncomfortable, so I stood up.
"Don't go anywhere," Sarisa said. With a sigh, I sat back down. I thought maybe I was feeling something, now, but I wasn't sure.
"Look at them," Sarisa said. "Tell me what you feel."
I looked over. Sookie's butt was right in my face. I could clearly see that she was wet. Almost dripping, in fact. Without even thinking about it, I lifted a hand and rested it on her bottom.
She moaned a little in response, her lips still pressed to Inanna's. Inanna's hand slid in between Sookie's legs and she worked two fingers inside her for just a moment, and then reached out and took my hand.
As soon as she touched it, something hit me like a ton of bricks.
I've done this before. With Inanna and Sookie, specifically. I remember it like it was something we'd done often. I let Inanne pull my hand down to Sookie's pussy and I began to play with her, without even thinking about it.
"Wow," I heard Sarisa say. Her voice was closer. I looked up, and it all ended. I snatched my hand back.
"I didn't mean to..." I started to object, but Sarisa just shook her head. "Tell me," she said.
"I felt like I'd done it before, with both of them. A lot," I said. "Like a regular thing."
"Okay. Anything specific?" she asked. I shook my head. She walked over and perched on my knee. The other two were ignoring us, caught up in their play.
"No," I said, "And it vanished when you spoke."
"My presence might be interfering it. Grounding you in this timeline. I can go in the other room for a bit," she said.
"No, don't," I objected. "If you do, I'm afraid I'll..." I gestured. Sarisa glanced over and laughed. "No underwear. I shouldn't be surprised. I just hope she doesn't stain the couch..." She looked back at me and took my jaw in her hand, then kissed me.
"It's okay. This is for science, babe, and I mean that literally. You know how I am. If something happens, it's not you, it's some other Jerry. I would greatly prefer if you didn't take it too far, but... I don't really see any other way."
I sighed. "Fine," I said. After a decade together, I still hadn't figured out how to put my foot down with her. She stood and looked at the others.
"Inanna, are you getting anything?" she asked. Inanna pulled back.
"When I touched Jerry's hand," she said, sounding breathless. "Stars and stones, I'm horny as shit right now. I haven't been this tuned up in a long time, Sarisa."
"Sookie?" Sarisa asked.
"I want your husband's cock inside me. I don't know if that means anything. I thought he was cute ever since we met," she said, then went back to making out with Inanna.
Sarisa kissed me again. "It's okay, I promise. Just five minutes, and then I'll come back out."
"Five minutes," I said firmly. She nodded and left.
I looked back and tentatively lifted my hand. I was torn between wanting to repeat what I'd done a moment ago to see what memories it dug up, and wanting to get up and go in the other room with my wife.
With a sigh, I touched Sookie's butt again.
"Stick a finger in my ass," she said. I balked. I was pretty sure that request wasn't about learning more.
"Take my hand, Jerry," Inanna said. She slipped her hand back, and I could see the fluids on her fingertips. I hesitated, then took it, grabbing her hand and squeezing.
----
"Where are we?" I asked, suddenly realizing that we weren't in bed. Inanna tore herself away from Sookie's lips long enough to look around.
"We're in somebody's house," she said, frowning in confusion. "I don't recognize it." She looked at me, then balked.
"You look young," she said.
"What?" I asked. Sookie turned around.
"Holy shit, dude, you do look younger. And skinnier. And you don't have any magic."
"What?" I asked again, and then reached inside for my wells. But there were none there. I could feel the magic of the world around me, passing through me, and I was able to tap into it, but my wells were gone. I looked at Inanna. "Dude, what the fuck?!" she said, standing up. She took several steps backwards, looking around.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"My wells..." she said. "They're gone... I... My divinities are back..."
"What the hell?" I wondered out loud.
"Holy shit guys, what just happened?" Sookie asked. She glanced down. "Why am I even wearing this? I never wear clothes unless I'm in my human skin."
"What happened?" I asked nobody in particular.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Inanna asked.
"We were... Uh... In a medieval city... I think. It's fuzzy..." I tried to remember further back. I could remember comforting Sara after that incident at the summer camp had traumatized. I remembered getting ready for the new school year.... Those memories were clear, but they started to get blurrier as they got more recent.
"We were investigating something..." Inanna added, frowning in thought herself. "Storms, I think. There was a girl... She was... She was one of yours," she finished, looking at Sookie.
"Mine?" Sookie asked. "Like a worshiper?"
"Yeah, a devotee of the Sacred Lovers," Inanna said.
"Dude, there haven't been any of those in ten thousand or more years," Sookie said.
Suddenly, I had an idea. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I drawled.
"What?" Inanna asked, recognizing the significance of me cursing.
"I think we fucked up the timeline," I said. Inanna's eyes widened. "Oh shit," she said. Just then, a door opened. I looked over and my heart fell into my stomach. It was her.
Sarisa.
She walked out, an uncertain smile on her lips. "Did you guys get anything?" she asked.
"Get anything what?" Sookie asked. Sarisa walked over to me and took my hand, then kissed me. I recoiled, making her frown.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her brows drawn down in concern.
"You're..." I said... "You're alive."
"You're mortal!" Inanna gasped.
Sarisa looked at her. "What?"
I felt something stirring inside of me. I didn't have my magic, so I worked using all the mental tricks and techniques I'd picked up over a decade of working with magic, much of it mind magic. I isolated the feeling and slowly let it back out, paying attention to how I felt as I looked around the room. It was memories. They were slipping into my head, alongside my own memories, crowding them out. They were memories of the recent past, though by recent, I mean a good chunk of my life right before this point.
"Do you feel that?" I asked Inanna and Sookie. Both nodded. "It's like I'm forgetting," Sookie said.
----
I took Inanna's hand and then, the next thing I knew, I was standing up. All of us were standing, in fact. Sarisa was holding my hand, not Inanna, and she was giving me a look.
"Forgetting?" she asked, looking back and forth between all three of us.
"Huh?" Inanna asked.
"Sookie, you said you were forgetting something?"
"I did?" Sookie asked. Sarisa frowned some more.
"Something is up," she said. "You three just acted like you were shocked to see me. Like I was dead or something."
"We did?" I asked. She nodded. "You literally gasped out 'you're alive!' to me, just a second ago."
"I don't remember that," I said, then I felt a niggling sensation. I let it come, and suddenly, Sarisa's words made sense. Sort of.
"Wait," I said. "I do remember saying that, but I don't remember why..."
Sarisa hugged me suddenly, squeezing my body tightly. "Jerry, something's up for sure. These are definitely echoes from a favored timeline. Something happened, and if we don't figure out what, it's going to get worse."
"Define worse?" I asked.
"Like, temporal loops and paradoxes and destroyed universes," she said. "Time is nothing to fuck with, but somebody's been fucking with it. We need to find out what changed in the past and set it right."
Her words echoed through my mind as I remembered what I'd just said. I'd been shocked to learn she was still alive, even though we've been married for years. I had been shocked because this other version of me came from a timeline where she'd been dead.
I didn't know what happened in that other timeline, and I was pretty sure I really didn't want to know. My heart began to flutter in my chest.
Part 23
2023.12.20 20:09 fuckyouiloveu How do you sort out anxiety from intuition?
After getting out of a relationship, and only after the fact being able to see the manipulation and unfairness on his part and mostly blaming myself initially, I’ve been practicing listening to my gut a lot more.
It’s been life-changing. I’m not constantly arguing or doubting myself. If someone rubs me the wrong way or does something that makes me feel off, I note it. Second time, it’s a yellow flag. Third time, it’s a pattern and their true behavior and I keep my distance from them.
The biggest pay-off was finding out this guy I had blocked several months ago was telling this girl he dated that I was his ex, and talking about me obsessively (we’ve never even met). When I did block him though I felt so guilty at the time because I couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason I felt so uneasy with his regular contact.
Years of therapy, I journal, exercise regularly, practice mindfulness, etc., but still, I have moments where my anxiety is so bad I can’t tell if it’s justified or if I’m spiraling mentally based on ridiculous assumptions about someone or a situation.
Sometimes my anxiety will get so bad I’ll be sweating in my armpits, gut is twisting and chest hurts.
Any intuition paid off stories, and tips on how to differentiate between the two?
submitted by fuckyouiloveu to infj [link] [comments]
It’s been life-changing. I’m not constantly arguing or doubting myself. If someone rubs me the wrong way or does something that makes me feel off, I note it. Second time, it’s a yellow flag. Third time, it’s a pattern and their true behavior and I keep my distance from them.
The biggest pay-off was finding out this guy I had blocked several months ago was telling this girl he dated that I was his ex, and talking about me obsessively (we’ve never even met). When I did block him though I felt so guilty at the time because I couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason I felt so uneasy with his regular contact.
Years of therapy, I journal, exercise regularly, practice mindfulness, etc., but still, I have moments where my anxiety is so bad I can’t tell if it’s justified or if I’m spiraling mentally based on ridiculous assumptions about someone or a situation.
Sometimes my anxiety will get so bad I’ll be sweating in my armpits, gut is twisting and chest hurts.
Any intuition paid off stories, and tips on how to differentiate between the two?
2023.12.13 23:10 Mustard_Jarr Centauri Rangers: The Mourning Tree - Part IX
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Part IX – Underneath the wood
5th May, 5765 PE (9237 AD)
Sirena opened her eyes, disorientated and confused. The top of her skull was pulsating like an egg on the brink of hatching and a throbbing pain behind her eyes caused a shower of sparks to erupt every time she blinked. She looked around, two faint points of blueish light pricked the darkness.
“What happened?” She croaked; a metallic-acidic concoction filled the desert of her mouth as she spoke.
One of the pricks of light slowly turned towards Sirena, suddenly placing her under its spotlight. She had to raise a hand to shield her eyes, the sudden brightness sent her head spinning.
“Oh, so you’re alive then?” Moxy’s voice came from behind the light.
“Sirena!” Maki exclaimed from behind the other light, which was now rushing over.
Sirena felt a pair of arms wrap around her; the sudden movement set off an explosion inside her skull. Bolts of searing pain bounced and ricocheted around the surfaces of her head. She couldn’t help letting out a groan of pain.
“Oh, shit, sorry…” Maki said apologetically.
“It’s fine.” Sirena replied, fighting off the urge to be sick. She could taste bile at the back of her throat that threatened to escape at the next possible moment.
After she’d gotten the bile under control she repeated her question.
“I think this was Devon’s response to our guard problem.” Maki gestured above them. Sirena could make out the woody textures of bark once her eyesight adjusted to the dim light.
“That idiot!” Sirena hissed before immediately clamping her mouth shut to defend against a fresh wave of bile.
“Uh-huh, I think we’re all in agreement on that one…”
Sirena sat up and looked around. The three of them sat inside a small dome of air, the wood surrounding them on all sides save the earthy floor. The dome wasn’t big, only a few metres across, enough for them to stand up in, and maybe big enough for them all to lie down if they got close enough. Sirena crawled up to the side and tried to lean against it but was stopped a few centimetres short. Maki sat down next to her looking completely untouched, Moxy sat on the opposite side, she looked unharmed too, except for a small sliver of blood running out of one nostril.
“How come I’m the only one who’s hurt?” It wasn’t really a question Sirena had expected an answer to. It wasn’t even a question she’d meant to say out loud at all, really.
“It’s not easy trying to make a barrier while we’re all running, alright?” Moxy snapped defensively, “It’s not my fault you ran straight into it. Just be happy you’re on this side, and not the other.”
Sirena nodded in the darkness, not caring that Moxy probably couldn’t see her clearly, if at all.
“Yeah, I don’t think we’d be here without Moxy’s quick thinking.” Maki agreed, “Damn that idiot, was he trying to kill us, or what?”
A fresh round of spinning forced Sirena to close her eyes. She could hear the throbbing of blood in her arteries as her heart thumped, causing a new wave of pain in her head with every beat. She switched to taking deep breaths to combat the sickly heat carried by the rising vomit in her stomach. Years of taekwondo and bojutsu had taught Sirena what the signs of a concussion looked like, but normally she only had to deal with them after the fight had finished. The fight this time hadn’t even begun.
“How long was I out for?”
“A few minutes.” Moxy replied curtly.
“Shit…”
“Well, you did basically sprint headfirst into a wall.” Maki said.
“Yeah, the hardest wall you’ve never seen…”
Sirena opened her eyes again, “Yeah, thanks guys.”
Maki rested a hand gently on Sirena’s shoulder, “Can you stand?”
The thought alone was almost enough to make her empty her stomach contents, and what would come next filled Sirena with dread. Standing up would be the easy part, the running and fighting afterwards would be hell. But still, Sirena climbed shakily to her feet, only having to stop once to let the world stop swimming; the bile beast in her throat threatening once more to break itself free from its prison.
“So, what’s the plan?” She asked once she was sure she wouldn’t throw up.
“Well… Moxy’s going to release her barrier and I’m going to make the branch float enough that we can get out of here.” Maki made the plan sound easy.
“Are you sure you can handle that?” Sirena asked, concerned. She remembered Maki telling her before that the larger something was, the harder it was to use her ability on it. And this branch seemed pretty fucking big.
“Of course we can, we’re not some useless bookie like you.” Moxy replied.
Sirena wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or her own blurry vision, but the trickle of blood coming from Moxy’s nose seemed a lot stronger now. She chose to ignore Moxy’s remark, she didn’t have the energy to talk unnecessarily, and from the looks of it, neither did Moxy, her attitude seemed like a front.
“Okay, are we ready?” Maki had placed her hands on Moxy’s barrier, ready to touch the wood once the barrier disappeared.
“Ready as ever.”
A new wave of dizziness gripped Sirena, forcing her to her knees, “Wait-”
“Too late.”
Sirena looked up to see the wood ceiling suddenly rushing towards her. Until it didn’t. The whole world was spinning around her again, more violently this time than it had been before. Maki and Moxy became two slightly darker patches of colour in the spinning whirlpool of darkness that surrounded her. Sirena had to place a hand over her mouth to stop the insides of her stomach from covering the floor. Her stomach retched and convulsed as the bile beast fought with wild fury to be freed.
“Right, Moxy, can you help me – Christ, this is heavy – can you help me lift this thing off the floor? Gravity’s not working on it right now, but it will still take some effort to create enough space for us to get through.”
Maki’s voice and the subsequent grunts sounded distant and far away, like they were in a separate room to Sirena. She stared at the floor, drops of fluid dripping from the corners of her watery eyes. Maki’s distant voice floated slightly closer, and Sirena felt someone grabbing her upper arm. Even focusing hard, she couldn’t make sense of the words that floated her way. She was vaguely aware of someone crouching down next to her.
“What?”
“We’re going to have to crawl out. Can you manage that?” Maki looked pale, tired, a trickle of blood now sprouting from her nose too.
Sirena tried to speak but failed, so nodded instead. She crawled to the edge of their little pocket in the wood; the bottom now suspended slightly above the ground. When maki had said they needed to crawl, she really meant they’d have to wriggle with all sides pressed against something. Sirena doubted that even that would work.
“I’m sorry, this was all we could manage.”
Sirena nodded at Maki, not risking speaking in case she let out anything other than words. Moxy crouched down next to her and then lay flat on her stomach and started squirming beneath the solid wall in front of them. Sirena looked at the black gap, crawling through it in prime condition would have left her feeling uneasy, but in this state it left her terrified. How could she squirm her way through such a tight space, when merely standing left her on the verge of throwing up?
“Sirena,” Maki placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, the blood dribbling from her nose had become a steady stream, “We have to go…”
Sirena took a deep breath and started her long struggle beneath the wood. She extended both arms far above her head, pulling at wet dirt and broken bush stems and pushing with her feet. The crushed undergrowth clawed at her clothes and skin, tearing away at the fabric and flesh, leaving intricate swirls of red as blood rushed out to fill the holes left behind.
The skin on Sirena’s back was already starting to bruise to the bone as she scraped it against the huge woody mass above her. The wood itself creaked and groaned as she moved, making her acutely aware of how close she was to being smeared into the mud below. Sirena had never been claustrophobic; living in space meant living in a metal box that travelled in the vast vacuum beyond and being in the military meant she’d gotten used to crawling through various crawlspaces and holes with sometimes only one thin sheet separating her and certain death. But this was different.
Sirena felt a sharp pain in her leg as she caught on something. She froze for a second before tentatively pulling again. Nothing. She pulled with more force, only to feel some more resistance and pain. She pulled a third time, with as much strength as she could muster, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot up from her calf. Only now she had stopped did Sirena realise how hard her muscles were screaming at her. Her head swam with ferocity and there was a faint ringing in her ears. The third tug yielded nothing. Sirena let out a shaky breath. She was stuck.
“Sirena?” Maki’s voice came from behind. It sounded weak and feeble, and Sirena was sure it wasn’t her concussion this time.
As if in response, the wood above dropped a few centimetres, pressing Sirena slightly further into the mud below. Sirena had to fight through a fresh wave of nausea, whether caused by her condition or her fear, she wasn’t sure.
“I’m stuck.”
Maki didn’t reply, but Sirena could feel a tugging at her foot as Maki pulled herself along. The movements caused her leg and head to throb in unison.
“Oh, shit, that’s not good…” Maki’s voice floated up from behind her.
“What is it?”
“This is… this is going to hurt… a little.” Maki’s breathing sounded laboured, like someone who had just finished a bout of cardio.
“What is it, Maki?” Sirena repeated.
And then she felt it. Something in her calf was yanked and a tsunami of a pain crashed over her. Sirena stifled a yelp as Maki wrenched her leg free from whatever had trapped her, at the cost of a new pain and a new round of nausea.
“Thanks, Maki.” Sirena said through gritted teeth, trying to hold back either a scream or vomit or both.
Maki didn’t respond.
“Maki?”
Silence. And then the wood dropped again.
“Maki!?”
“…Yeah?” Maki’s voice was barely a whisper.
Sirena had to fight back a sob. Maki sounded so weak, and the exit was still so far away. How could they make it? The second Maki passed out they’d be crushed under the huge mass of the branch above them, smeared against the mud like red crayons on concrete.
“What’s going on back there?” Moxy called from far ahead of them. She was close to the edge now; she could probably escape if she crawled fast enough.
“It’s Maki.” Sirena yelled, her voice sounding more like a wail than a shout. She hated how it came out, but now wasn’t the time for posturing, “I don’t think she’ll last much longer…”
Sirena heard a faint mutter from Moxy’s direction, and then hurried rustling as she squirmed along faster.
‘Shit, she left us! The bitch actually left us!’
Sirena managed to wriggle her way backwards so that she was just ahead of Maki. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, and her eyelids barely open. There was a faint glisten of moisture beneath her nose in the dim light.
Maki focused lazily on Sirena, “I think… you should… leave me…”
“I’m not going to do that.” Sirena’s voice came back shaky.
“Sirena…”
Sirena grabbed onto one of Maki’s arms and pulled. Nothing happened. She pulled again, same result.
“Sirena…”
“Shut up, Maki. I’m not leaving. If you don’t want me to die, then stay awake.” Sirena didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but she preferred it over how weak she sounded before.
She crawled back so that her and Maki were level. She wrapped an arm around her torso, just below her armpits.
“I know it’s going to be a struggle, but I need you to bear with me for a while, okay?”
Maki groaned in response. That was as good as any.
Sirena set off squirming again, only this time with even less space, and a whole extra body to account for. It was a struggle, to say the least. They had barely made it to where Sirena had originally been before when the wood shifted again. If it shifted anymore then Sirena wouldn’t be able to move at all, all she’d be able to do was wait for the inevitable end as the entire weight of the branch bore down on her.
Quietly, she cursed Devon. Sirena knew he was only trying to help, but goddamn he was an idiot. And now they were going to die. They were going to die a slow and painful death of being crushed. She tried to shake the vivid images of her bones snapping and her lungs bursting from her mind, but only succeeded in bringing in new sensations of pain and nausea. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks; she didn’t even bother trying to guess what reason had caused them. There were too many.
Sirena had settled into a slow but steady rhythm: left arm pulls, right arm drags Maki, Left leg pushes, right leg sort of drags loosely behind. Maki and her right leg were basically dead weight, but now that Sirena had focused on her goal, she was unstoppable. Nothing was going to stop her from reaching the edge. Nothing was going to stop her from dragging herself and Maki out into the sunlight. Nothing was going to stop-
The wood shifted again.
Wet mud and rotting leaves filled Sirena’s nostrils with a damp, earthy smell. The wood against her back had pushed her so far into the dirt that it hurt to take a deep breath. Sirena stopped for a second, frozen in place as her muddled brain worked out what had stopped them. And then she buried her face into the mud and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. They were going to die. They were going to die in slow and excruciating pain. There was nothing they could do except wait for the moment where their bodies couldn’t take the strain anymore and slowly broke apart at the seams. And the whole time they would be knowing. Knowing what was happening as the air was slowly squeezed from their lungs, knowing as their bones were slowly cracked and ground into dust, knowing as their arteries burst and their blood exploded out their skin like a water balloon.
Sirena struggled to breathe as she cried. But in the end, what would it matter? She was going to die anyway, why prolong the inevitable?
“Sirena…?” Maki called weakly from Sirena’s side, “I’m sorry…”
The tears couldn’t stream out of Sirena’s eyes fast enough. Her eyes stung with how hard she was crying. She was so close; they were so close. She’d tried so hard to save them both and now they were both going to die so unceremoniously. She squeezed Maki tightly with her arm, the oppressive weight of the wood scraping along her triceps.
“It’s okay.” Sirena choked between her tears, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. If I hadn’t gotten stuck, if I hadn’t- if I- if- if…”
Sirena felt Maki squeeze her in return and then rest her head on her shoulder. Sirena could feel something wet and sticky through the torn fabric of her shirt. She didn’t know if it was blood or tears.
“Thank you for coming back for me…”
There wasn’t any reply that Sirena could give and so the pair just embraced in the dark, silently crying as they awaited the end.
Sirena gasped as the wood shifted again. But not the way she was expecting. The almost black space got ever so slightly lighter as the weight of the branch was relieved.
“Are you two just gunna lie there crying until you get squished, or are you gunna try and get out of here?” Moxy’s voice came from a little further ahead.
“Moxy!” Sirena rasped, her throat hoarse from all the crying, screaming, and almost being crushed, “You came back!”
“Well, yeah, obviously. I don’t like you, but I wasn’t going to just let you die.”
Moxy squirmed until she was level with the pair and took Maki’s other side.
“We’re going to have to move quickly. I set up a few barriers as supports but the longer we take, the more I end up like her, and then we really will be dead.”
The trio wriggled as quickly as they could. The dim sliver of light at the end grew ever brighter and brighter. Every wriggle forward gave Sirena renewed strength as she thought of the open air and sunlight on the other side. Except they were in an enemy base, and it was raining outside. Sirena chose not to dwell on the details, focusing instead on their truly earned freedom.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, they reached the edge, where the massive branch started to curl round. With one final push they cleared the branch, dragging themselves and Maki clear. The wood groaned as it finally slumped to the floor, released by both Dream-Piece abilities. The trio lay on the floor, panting, regaining their breath. The drizzle falling from the heavens was a welcome guest; Sirena wasn’t sure if the water streaming down her face was the rain or her tears. Nothing had ever felt as pleasant and beautiful as the slight gust that blew across her face and through her hair.
And then everything caught up with her. The adrenaline that had been pumping through Sirena’s veins had run its course, leaving her to deal with the aftermath. Her head suddenly felt like it was hit with a brick, and her leg decided it didn’t want to support her weight anymore. Sirena collapsed to the floor; her body made of lead. Her arms ached, her back was scraped to ruin, and her head pounded with vengeance. But worst of all, the beast was back. And this time it couldn’t be stopped.
Sirena doubled over on all fours and threw up everywhere. Streams of sickly yellow fluid erupted from her mouth, and all she could do was stop herself from choking on it.
“That’s gross.” Moxy said from behind her. Sirena didn’t care.
A hand was placed gently on her back, and she felt her hair being pulled upwards, out of the range of sick. Sirena turned to look at Maki through teary eyes. She was still as pretty as ever, but her normally olive-coloured skin was pale and sickly, and she was covered in scrapes and gashes from head to foot. Everything below her nose was drenched and dripping with blood, like someone had broken it with a can of red paint. Her slick black hair was imbedded with twigs and leaves and matted from God knows what. Out of the corner of her eye, Sirena could see that Moxy looked much the same. She guessed she didn’t look much better, either. Except she was now also covered in vomit, too.
“Maki, you need to sit down and rest.” Sirena managed to gasp in between her rounds of vomiting.
Maki sat down next to her, still keeping Sirena’s hair above her head.
“Thanks…”
“Thank you for coming back for me.” Maki said quietly, not loud enough to be heard by Moxy, “I know I said it before, but really, thank you. I didn’t want to die there alone.”
Sirena smiled back at Maki, well, what she thought was a smile, “It’s fine. I wasn’t going to leave you, was I? Who would save me from being stuck on a crew with Devon, then?”
Maki giggled, a beautiful, joyful giggle that seemed to come from the very bottom of her soul. It soon turned into laughter, an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Before long Sirena had started too, the beast of bile successfully trapped once again. Even Moxy started to laugh, until the three of them were rolling around on the floor laughing away all the stress and tension that comes with almost being squashed to death. Nothing could ruin their good mood now…
“Hey, you three! Don’t move!”
submitted by Mustard_Jarr to HFY [link] [comments]
Part IX – Underneath the wood
5th May, 5765 PE (9237 AD)
Sirena opened her eyes, disorientated and confused. The top of her skull was pulsating like an egg on the brink of hatching and a throbbing pain behind her eyes caused a shower of sparks to erupt every time she blinked. She looked around, two faint points of blueish light pricked the darkness.
“What happened?” She croaked; a metallic-acidic concoction filled the desert of her mouth as she spoke.
One of the pricks of light slowly turned towards Sirena, suddenly placing her under its spotlight. She had to raise a hand to shield her eyes, the sudden brightness sent her head spinning.
“Oh, so you’re alive then?” Moxy’s voice came from behind the light.
“Sirena!” Maki exclaimed from behind the other light, which was now rushing over.
Sirena felt a pair of arms wrap around her; the sudden movement set off an explosion inside her skull. Bolts of searing pain bounced and ricocheted around the surfaces of her head. She couldn’t help letting out a groan of pain.
“Oh, shit, sorry…” Maki said apologetically.
“It’s fine.” Sirena replied, fighting off the urge to be sick. She could taste bile at the back of her throat that threatened to escape at the next possible moment.
After she’d gotten the bile under control she repeated her question.
“I think this was Devon’s response to our guard problem.” Maki gestured above them. Sirena could make out the woody textures of bark once her eyesight adjusted to the dim light.
“That idiot!” Sirena hissed before immediately clamping her mouth shut to defend against a fresh wave of bile.
“Uh-huh, I think we’re all in agreement on that one…”
Sirena sat up and looked around. The three of them sat inside a small dome of air, the wood surrounding them on all sides save the earthy floor. The dome wasn’t big, only a few metres across, enough for them to stand up in, and maybe big enough for them all to lie down if they got close enough. Sirena crawled up to the side and tried to lean against it but was stopped a few centimetres short. Maki sat down next to her looking completely untouched, Moxy sat on the opposite side, she looked unharmed too, except for a small sliver of blood running out of one nostril.
“How come I’m the only one who’s hurt?” It wasn’t really a question Sirena had expected an answer to. It wasn’t even a question she’d meant to say out loud at all, really.
“It’s not easy trying to make a barrier while we’re all running, alright?” Moxy snapped defensively, “It’s not my fault you ran straight into it. Just be happy you’re on this side, and not the other.”
Sirena nodded in the darkness, not caring that Moxy probably couldn’t see her clearly, if at all.
“Yeah, I don’t think we’d be here without Moxy’s quick thinking.” Maki agreed, “Damn that idiot, was he trying to kill us, or what?”
A fresh round of spinning forced Sirena to close her eyes. She could hear the throbbing of blood in her arteries as her heart thumped, causing a new wave of pain in her head with every beat. She switched to taking deep breaths to combat the sickly heat carried by the rising vomit in her stomach. Years of taekwondo and bojutsu had taught Sirena what the signs of a concussion looked like, but normally she only had to deal with them after the fight had finished. The fight this time hadn’t even begun.
“How long was I out for?”
“A few minutes.” Moxy replied curtly.
“Shit…”
“Well, you did basically sprint headfirst into a wall.” Maki said.
“Yeah, the hardest wall you’ve never seen…”
Sirena opened her eyes again, “Yeah, thanks guys.”
Maki rested a hand gently on Sirena’s shoulder, “Can you stand?”
The thought alone was almost enough to make her empty her stomach contents, and what would come next filled Sirena with dread. Standing up would be the easy part, the running and fighting afterwards would be hell. But still, Sirena climbed shakily to her feet, only having to stop once to let the world stop swimming; the bile beast in her throat threatening once more to break itself free from its prison.
“So, what’s the plan?” She asked once she was sure she wouldn’t throw up.
“Well… Moxy’s going to release her barrier and I’m going to make the branch float enough that we can get out of here.” Maki made the plan sound easy.
“Are you sure you can handle that?” Sirena asked, concerned. She remembered Maki telling her before that the larger something was, the harder it was to use her ability on it. And this branch seemed pretty fucking big.
“Of course we can, we’re not some useless bookie like you.” Moxy replied.
Sirena wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or her own blurry vision, but the trickle of blood coming from Moxy’s nose seemed a lot stronger now. She chose to ignore Moxy’s remark, she didn’t have the energy to talk unnecessarily, and from the looks of it, neither did Moxy, her attitude seemed like a front.
“Okay, are we ready?” Maki had placed her hands on Moxy’s barrier, ready to touch the wood once the barrier disappeared.
“Ready as ever.”
A new wave of dizziness gripped Sirena, forcing her to her knees, “Wait-”
“Too late.”
Sirena looked up to see the wood ceiling suddenly rushing towards her. Until it didn’t. The whole world was spinning around her again, more violently this time than it had been before. Maki and Moxy became two slightly darker patches of colour in the spinning whirlpool of darkness that surrounded her. Sirena had to place a hand over her mouth to stop the insides of her stomach from covering the floor. Her stomach retched and convulsed as the bile beast fought with wild fury to be freed.
“Right, Moxy, can you help me – Christ, this is heavy – can you help me lift this thing off the floor? Gravity’s not working on it right now, but it will still take some effort to create enough space for us to get through.”
Maki’s voice and the subsequent grunts sounded distant and far away, like they were in a separate room to Sirena. She stared at the floor, drops of fluid dripping from the corners of her watery eyes. Maki’s distant voice floated slightly closer, and Sirena felt someone grabbing her upper arm. Even focusing hard, she couldn’t make sense of the words that floated her way. She was vaguely aware of someone crouching down next to her.
“What?”
“We’re going to have to crawl out. Can you manage that?” Maki looked pale, tired, a trickle of blood now sprouting from her nose too.
Sirena tried to speak but failed, so nodded instead. She crawled to the edge of their little pocket in the wood; the bottom now suspended slightly above the ground. When maki had said they needed to crawl, she really meant they’d have to wriggle with all sides pressed against something. Sirena doubted that even that would work.
“I’m sorry, this was all we could manage.”
Sirena nodded at Maki, not risking speaking in case she let out anything other than words. Moxy crouched down next to her and then lay flat on her stomach and started squirming beneath the solid wall in front of them. Sirena looked at the black gap, crawling through it in prime condition would have left her feeling uneasy, but in this state it left her terrified. How could she squirm her way through such a tight space, when merely standing left her on the verge of throwing up?
“Sirena,” Maki placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, the blood dribbling from her nose had become a steady stream, “We have to go…”
Sirena took a deep breath and started her long struggle beneath the wood. She extended both arms far above her head, pulling at wet dirt and broken bush stems and pushing with her feet. The crushed undergrowth clawed at her clothes and skin, tearing away at the fabric and flesh, leaving intricate swirls of red as blood rushed out to fill the holes left behind.
The skin on Sirena’s back was already starting to bruise to the bone as she scraped it against the huge woody mass above her. The wood itself creaked and groaned as she moved, making her acutely aware of how close she was to being smeared into the mud below. Sirena had never been claustrophobic; living in space meant living in a metal box that travelled in the vast vacuum beyond and being in the military meant she’d gotten used to crawling through various crawlspaces and holes with sometimes only one thin sheet separating her and certain death. But this was different.
Sirena felt a sharp pain in her leg as she caught on something. She froze for a second before tentatively pulling again. Nothing. She pulled with more force, only to feel some more resistance and pain. She pulled a third time, with as much strength as she could muster, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot up from her calf. Only now she had stopped did Sirena realise how hard her muscles were screaming at her. Her head swam with ferocity and there was a faint ringing in her ears. The third tug yielded nothing. Sirena let out a shaky breath. She was stuck.
“Sirena?” Maki’s voice came from behind. It sounded weak and feeble, and Sirena was sure it wasn’t her concussion this time.
As if in response, the wood above dropped a few centimetres, pressing Sirena slightly further into the mud below. Sirena had to fight through a fresh wave of nausea, whether caused by her condition or her fear, she wasn’t sure.
“I’m stuck.”
Maki didn’t reply, but Sirena could feel a tugging at her foot as Maki pulled herself along. The movements caused her leg and head to throb in unison.
“Oh, shit, that’s not good…” Maki’s voice floated up from behind her.
“What is it?”
“This is… this is going to hurt… a little.” Maki’s breathing sounded laboured, like someone who had just finished a bout of cardio.
“What is it, Maki?” Sirena repeated.
And then she felt it. Something in her calf was yanked and a tsunami of a pain crashed over her. Sirena stifled a yelp as Maki wrenched her leg free from whatever had trapped her, at the cost of a new pain and a new round of nausea.
“Thanks, Maki.” Sirena said through gritted teeth, trying to hold back either a scream or vomit or both.
Maki didn’t respond.
“Maki?”
Silence. And then the wood dropped again.
“Maki!?”
“…Yeah?” Maki’s voice was barely a whisper.
Sirena had to fight back a sob. Maki sounded so weak, and the exit was still so far away. How could they make it? The second Maki passed out they’d be crushed under the huge mass of the branch above them, smeared against the mud like red crayons on concrete.
“What’s going on back there?” Moxy called from far ahead of them. She was close to the edge now; she could probably escape if she crawled fast enough.
“It’s Maki.” Sirena yelled, her voice sounding more like a wail than a shout. She hated how it came out, but now wasn’t the time for posturing, “I don’t think she’ll last much longer…”
Sirena heard a faint mutter from Moxy’s direction, and then hurried rustling as she squirmed along faster.
‘Shit, she left us! The bitch actually left us!’
Sirena managed to wriggle her way backwards so that she was just ahead of Maki. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, and her eyelids barely open. There was a faint glisten of moisture beneath her nose in the dim light.
Maki focused lazily on Sirena, “I think… you should… leave me…”
“I’m not going to do that.” Sirena’s voice came back shaky.
“Sirena…”
Sirena grabbed onto one of Maki’s arms and pulled. Nothing happened. She pulled again, same result.
“Sirena…”
“Shut up, Maki. I’m not leaving. If you don’t want me to die, then stay awake.” Sirena didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but she preferred it over how weak she sounded before.
She crawled back so that her and Maki were level. She wrapped an arm around her torso, just below her armpits.
“I know it’s going to be a struggle, but I need you to bear with me for a while, okay?”
Maki groaned in response. That was as good as any.
Sirena set off squirming again, only this time with even less space, and a whole extra body to account for. It was a struggle, to say the least. They had barely made it to where Sirena had originally been before when the wood shifted again. If it shifted anymore then Sirena wouldn’t be able to move at all, all she’d be able to do was wait for the inevitable end as the entire weight of the branch bore down on her.
Quietly, she cursed Devon. Sirena knew he was only trying to help, but goddamn he was an idiot. And now they were going to die. They were going to die a slow and painful death of being crushed. She tried to shake the vivid images of her bones snapping and her lungs bursting from her mind, but only succeeded in bringing in new sensations of pain and nausea. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks; she didn’t even bother trying to guess what reason had caused them. There were too many.
Sirena had settled into a slow but steady rhythm: left arm pulls, right arm drags Maki, Left leg pushes, right leg sort of drags loosely behind. Maki and her right leg were basically dead weight, but now that Sirena had focused on her goal, she was unstoppable. Nothing was going to stop her from reaching the edge. Nothing was going to stop her from dragging herself and Maki out into the sunlight. Nothing was going to stop-
The wood shifted again.
Wet mud and rotting leaves filled Sirena’s nostrils with a damp, earthy smell. The wood against her back had pushed her so far into the dirt that it hurt to take a deep breath. Sirena stopped for a second, frozen in place as her muddled brain worked out what had stopped them. And then she buried her face into the mud and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. They were going to die. They were going to die in slow and excruciating pain. There was nothing they could do except wait for the moment where their bodies couldn’t take the strain anymore and slowly broke apart at the seams. And the whole time they would be knowing. Knowing what was happening as the air was slowly squeezed from their lungs, knowing as their bones were slowly cracked and ground into dust, knowing as their arteries burst and their blood exploded out their skin like a water balloon.
Sirena struggled to breathe as she cried. But in the end, what would it matter? She was going to die anyway, why prolong the inevitable?
“Sirena…?” Maki called weakly from Sirena’s side, “I’m sorry…”
The tears couldn’t stream out of Sirena’s eyes fast enough. Her eyes stung with how hard she was crying. She was so close; they were so close. She’d tried so hard to save them both and now they were both going to die so unceremoniously. She squeezed Maki tightly with her arm, the oppressive weight of the wood scraping along her triceps.
“It’s okay.” Sirena choked between her tears, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. If I hadn’t gotten stuck, if I hadn’t- if I- if- if…”
Sirena felt Maki squeeze her in return and then rest her head on her shoulder. Sirena could feel something wet and sticky through the torn fabric of her shirt. She didn’t know if it was blood or tears.
“Thank you for coming back for me…”
There wasn’t any reply that Sirena could give and so the pair just embraced in the dark, silently crying as they awaited the end.
Sirena gasped as the wood shifted again. But not the way she was expecting. The almost black space got ever so slightly lighter as the weight of the branch was relieved.
“Are you two just gunna lie there crying until you get squished, or are you gunna try and get out of here?” Moxy’s voice came from a little further ahead.
“Moxy!” Sirena rasped, her throat hoarse from all the crying, screaming, and almost being crushed, “You came back!”
“Well, yeah, obviously. I don’t like you, but I wasn’t going to just let you die.”
Moxy squirmed until she was level with the pair and took Maki’s other side.
“We’re going to have to move quickly. I set up a few barriers as supports but the longer we take, the more I end up like her, and then we really will be dead.”
The trio wriggled as quickly as they could. The dim sliver of light at the end grew ever brighter and brighter. Every wriggle forward gave Sirena renewed strength as she thought of the open air and sunlight on the other side. Except they were in an enemy base, and it was raining outside. Sirena chose not to dwell on the details, focusing instead on their truly earned freedom.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, they reached the edge, where the massive branch started to curl round. With one final push they cleared the branch, dragging themselves and Maki clear. The wood groaned as it finally slumped to the floor, released by both Dream-Piece abilities. The trio lay on the floor, panting, regaining their breath. The drizzle falling from the heavens was a welcome guest; Sirena wasn’t sure if the water streaming down her face was the rain or her tears. Nothing had ever felt as pleasant and beautiful as the slight gust that blew across her face and through her hair.
And then everything caught up with her. The adrenaline that had been pumping through Sirena’s veins had run its course, leaving her to deal with the aftermath. Her head suddenly felt like it was hit with a brick, and her leg decided it didn’t want to support her weight anymore. Sirena collapsed to the floor; her body made of lead. Her arms ached, her back was scraped to ruin, and her head pounded with vengeance. But worst of all, the beast was back. And this time it couldn’t be stopped.
Sirena doubled over on all fours and threw up everywhere. Streams of sickly yellow fluid erupted from her mouth, and all she could do was stop herself from choking on it.
“That’s gross.” Moxy said from behind her. Sirena didn’t care.
A hand was placed gently on her back, and she felt her hair being pulled upwards, out of the range of sick. Sirena turned to look at Maki through teary eyes. She was still as pretty as ever, but her normally olive-coloured skin was pale and sickly, and she was covered in scrapes and gashes from head to foot. Everything below her nose was drenched and dripping with blood, like someone had broken it with a can of red paint. Her slick black hair was imbedded with twigs and leaves and matted from God knows what. Out of the corner of her eye, Sirena could see that Moxy looked much the same. She guessed she didn’t look much better, either. Except she was now also covered in vomit, too.
“Maki, you need to sit down and rest.” Sirena managed to gasp in between her rounds of vomiting.
Maki sat down next to her, still keeping Sirena’s hair above her head.
“Thanks…”
“Thank you for coming back for me.” Maki said quietly, not loud enough to be heard by Moxy, “I know I said it before, but really, thank you. I didn’t want to die there alone.”
Sirena smiled back at Maki, well, what she thought was a smile, “It’s fine. I wasn’t going to leave you, was I? Who would save me from being stuck on a crew with Devon, then?”
Maki giggled, a beautiful, joyful giggle that seemed to come from the very bottom of her soul. It soon turned into laughter, an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Before long Sirena had started too, the beast of bile successfully trapped once again. Even Moxy started to laugh, until the three of them were rolling around on the floor laughing away all the stress and tension that comes with almost being squashed to death. Nothing could ruin their good mood now…
“Hey, you three! Don’t move!”
2023.12.09 03:04 Try-Itchy Any problems with lymph nodes?
Hi! I’m going to get top surgery but my grandma’s concerned about problems with my lymph nodes. She had breast cancer and had to get a mastectomy because of it. Her lymph nodes got affected and she’s been dealing with awful side affects. She’s uneasy about all of this because of her personal experience, and I’m trying to make sure she understands that this isn’t going to happen to me. I’m getting peri, so there won’t be anything happening around my armpits incision wise. Has anyone personally had experiences with this? Based on my research this isn’t common with top surgery at all. If anyone could find links to articles and stuff on this or words from professionals in general that would be great!!!
submitted by Try-Itchy to TopSurgery [link] [comments]
2023.11.28 10:18 NotAntonio5818 The seas are calling
Chapter 1: A pirate life for me?
Ever since people could remember, being a pirate was the norm. Whether you were a child or an adult the seas called to you, intriguing you with vast treasure and harrowing adventures. Out into the ocean you lived a life of freedom, with no one but the captain to tell you what to do. Best of all, being surrounded by your best mates. It’d seemed like the perfect life in the eyes of many. At least, that’s how it always looks. For me, I didn’t have a choice.
I don’t remember that day, besides waking up on board the ship. In fact, I could barely remember anything before becoming a pirate. The story I was told, was apparently, I was caught in a freak accident and that I was lucky to be alive. When the captain saw my condition, she took pity on me and with the help of the ship's doctor, nursed me back to health. When I finally woke up and was informed on everything, I was given an ultimatum. Either become a member of the crew, or they’d leave me on the next island they came across. I knew that accepting the latter option would result in my eventual death, so I took them up on their offer.
And ever since then, I’ve been a member of the Blue Barren pirates. 3 months of my time has been spent as part of the crew. Like I said earlier most people think the pirate life is all adventure, but in reality, it’s mostly just chore after chore.I was a cabin boy, so basically a pawn to the whole crew. Any inconvenient task, I was the one they called. Hey cabin boy, mop the deck, go clean the toilets, go make yourself useful and wash the dishes. That’s all I heard for most of my time here, people barking around order after order. I wouldn’t have minded as much if my crew knew the slightest bit of manners. Never once did I hear a, please, thank you, or even a good job. Hell, they couldn’t even be bothered to remember that my name was Ryan.
The comments my crew would harass me with didn’t help me feel better either. “Jesus, I mean can you even qualify him as a man. With his build he may as well be a woman. Those wide hips, any man would take apart in that. Hey sweetie, when you’re done cleaning go make me a sandwich, ahahaha.” Day in and day out, these drunken slobs used me for their entertainment. The only saving grace I had was on the rare occasions one of the 3 commanders heard what was being said to me.
The man who insulted me earlier, hollered in pain as a boot came stomping down onto his hand. When the man looked up ready to fight whoever did this, he immediately sat back down when he saw the face of one of the commanders looking back at him. Pointing at me the commander angrily says, “I want you to look at him and say you’re sorry. If you’re a part of this crew, then everyone needs to be treated like family. If you don’t like it, then you can haul your ass off this ship.” The man muttered something under his breath before giving the fakest apology ever. I clenched my fist wanting to punch the man myself, I restrained myself knowing it would do me any good. I knew the apology wouldn’t get any more sincere, so I just accepted it. The man gave me the nastiest look, and he and his friends walked off.
I knew it didn’t matter if he got caught this time, it never changed anything. I was nobody on this ship. I was disposable. Nobody remembered my name, so why would anyone remember if I was being harassed or not, and they all knew and took advantage of that. I hated them for the way they’d treat me, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t fight them, I’m short and scrawny. Even if everyone else is 300 pounds and out of shape they are still pirates who’ve seen battle. While I’ve never even shot my gun or been in a fight all my life. So, I grit my teeth and sucked it up and went back to my tasks.
Although, I guess it wouldn’t be fair to say I hated everyone on the crew. The 3 commanders were cool people, I guess. They stood up for me whenever they saw me being harassed. Sabore, the swordsman, Nixon, the gunslinger, and Drave, the strongest member on the crew, are people I admired. Each one was incredibly talented, I wanted nothing more than to be as skilled as they were. On occasion Drave would ask me to work out with him, but I always declined. One day, I entered his room and tried to lift the smallest weight he owned. Yet I humiliatingly couldn’t even budge the thing. Each one believed the captain's code, that the crew was supposed to be a family. But not many thought the same as her.
Speaking of the captain, she was something completely different. It wasn’t an over exaggeration to say that she was every man’s dream. Long flowing red hair that looked like autumn leaves. She stood at the immaculate height of 6’2 and had such an elegant physique. She wasn’t overly muscular, but she was definitely lean. Plus, she had a nice pair of…knockers. She spoke with such confidence that made even most skeptics believe in her word. Men from any island we’d land at would bow to her beauty. They’d most likely surrender their left testicle just for the chance to have her attention, if given the opportunity.
Despite all that, she didn’t give them the time of day. Her mind was focused on her goal, something everyone on the crew wished to help make a reality. Conquering the 5th ocean. When I first heard of the 5th ocean, I believed it just had to be a myth. I mean what place could be so dangerous that pirates haven’t already conquered it. Are bounty was pretty big but there were pirates who were much stronger and had way higher bounties than us. So, I just couldn’t believe such a place existed. Plus, the rumors of the dangerous creatures that inhabited the 5th ocean sounded straight from a fairytale.
Thinking that at one point the crew’s reputation used to be small blows my mind. When I joined, the crew all together had a bounty of 50 million. Apparently, it grew at such a high rate because of an incident regarding a marine captain. The marines labeled the crew as the risky rookies with how fast the bounty grew.
On some nights when we took residence at random islands, the crew would tell their stories to the local residents. Hearing just how they got their bounty so high was some of the better experiences I had. It was moments like these that I didn’t really mind the company of the crew. Some of them were great story tellers and I was always left on the edge of my seat with excitement. I loved hearing all about the battles they had against the marines, and all the treasure they found on their journey.
I always wondered what stories I would have to tell one day. It was a common fantasy of mine that I would be met face to face with the most menacing marine captain in battle. The rain would be crashing down, as thunder struck from the heavens. Sword in hand, I would charge into the fight. 3 grueling days would go by as the most intense fight would be going on. With one finale attack my sword would pierce his heart, and I’d watch as his lifeless body would fall to the ground. I’d then stand tall and raise my hand in victory.
I knew that no matter what though, it’d be nothing more than a fantasy. In an actual fight I’d be nothing more than dead weight. Forced to have to watch as my crew fend off the enemy. The only thing I had to defend myself was an old hand me down pistol a crew member gave me. The gun was withered and rusty, I’d be surprised if the thing could even fire. It was still better than nothing, so I kept it by my side at all times.
A bell rang, as the loud bellowing voice of the chef screams out, “Oi, dinner is ready. Everybody line up and come get your food before it’s all gone.” I grab a plate from the separate table and get in line. I was lucky and had a spot near the front, or that’s what I thought at first. Not even a minute of me waiting in line, I felt my ass hit against the floor. When I looked up I saw an obese 300 pound man weaseling his way into my spot. “U-um, e-excuse me. Th-that was”, “shut your damn mouth and get to the back of the line” interrupts the man.I grab my plate and stomp back to the end of the line. I waited patiently despite clearly being upset. I’m sure my face wasn’t pleasant to look at. I waited and waited, feeling my stomach growl with hunger. When it was my turn after what felt like hours of waiting, I was hit with terrible news. “Sorry buddy, there’s nothing left. I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles. Try getting in line earlier, and maybe you’ll get something to eat” the chef advises. I hang my head down and slowly walk.
I headed to my room and made sure that no one was around. When I deemed it safe, I walked into my room and crawled under my bed. I reached and pushed an old box to the side and retrieved a piece of bread I had swiped from the pantry a while ago. That day was one of the most sweat inducing days as the sun seemed to be aiming straight for me. Much like today I was denied any food for dinner. When I was walking back to the lower decks, I noticed the pantry was unlocked and no one was inside. My stomach turned as the desperate feeling of needing to eat overcame me. That’s when I swiped this bread and hid it in my room. It wasn’t too big, so I knew I needed to ration it, so bit by bit I ripped a piece off and ate it.
A disgusting taste filled my mouth as I coughed up the bread. The bread had become moldy by the time I was eating it and knew it wouldn’t be safe to eat for much longer. I dreaded thinking of the days where I wouldn’t get to eat anything and wouldn’t even have this to eat. When I was finished with my rations, I crawled back down and placed the bread right back into its hiding place. When I got back onto my bed, I eyed my candle for about 5 minutes. The flame was weak and seemed close to giving out. For some reason I couldn’t help compare myself to the flame. How close was I before I couldn’t take this anymore?
The next day an announcement was made considering our next course of action. The navigator told us we’d be heading to Zao, the pirate marketplace. Zao was a huge manmade island for pirates all over the seas to congregate to. It sold an abundance of goods any pirate could ask for. For the right price you could buy anything from sails, canons, even hire a shipwright to fix up your ship. I wasn’t too excited since I’d most likely be forced to stay on the ship. So, I went back to doing my tasks while everyone else listened to the rest of the announcement.
Later that night when I was mopping the top deck, I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion between the captain and the commanders. I decided to eavesdrop a little and placed my ear to the door. “The marines are becoming more powerful as the months go by. Word is they’ve got something up their sleeves, and it doesn’t sound good. Now no one knows exactly what it is, being a marine secret and all, but if it’s as dangerous as people are saying, pirates will be in a world of trouble” Sabore explains. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that too. The marines have been a thorn in our side ever since fleet admiral Tengu rose to power. However, we can’t let the marines start scaring us now. The seas belong to the pirates, and that’s something that will never change. I’d rather die than see the ocean be ruled by those pesky marines” the captain states.
I wanted to listen more, but the sound of footsteps coming closer made me scurry away. I couldn’t help but be intrigued with what they were talking about. The marines, our enemy, had something that was stirring up some worry? Marines have been nothing more than a joke to everyone, people desperate for any sort of power or control. If they now had something to turn the tides against the pirates, that’d surely cause problems for the future. I knew it was something I really didn’t need to worry about, so I cleared the thought out of my mind, and headed to my room for some sleep.
When morning rolled around, I looked around confused when I couldn’t find anybody. The lower deck and 2nd deck were all completely empty. Everyone for some reason was on the top deck staring at something. I tried peering around to see what had grabbed everyone’s attention. Looking in the same direction I saw what looked like any normal island. I was disappointed thinking we could have already been to Zao in such a short time. The navigator looked at multiple maps and couldn’t find the island anywhere. It was soon deemed as unexplored and when the captain heard that she declared we’d head over and search the island.I thought it was a complete waste of time. The whole reason we were heading to Zao was because we needed to stock up on supplies. So why then risk going to this unmarked island without being properly prepared? But the captain’s word was law, so even if I disagreed, I couldn’t argue.
The more and more the island came into view the more my heart filled with dread. I was looking at a decently sized island, that was 90% forest. The other 10% was an empty looking hill. I knew at that moment we’d most likely be searching the island all day. The trees would cover potential hiding spots so the captain would want an extra thorough search. I could already feel my feet starting to hurt the closer we got to the island.
We anchored the ship right up upon the edge of the island, and one by one, we walked onto the beach. “Alright everyone listen up” the captain says. “We’re gonna spend the rest of the day scouring the island for any possible treasure. Make sure you’ve got your flares with you and be ready to signal if anything happens. I can’t promise the island will be safe, so if anything goes down make sure to let everyone know.” I didn’t have any flares. And I wasn’t planning on grouping up with anyone. I didn’t believe the island could be dangerous, because if it was, I feel like we’d already would’ve been attacked by now.
When we all marched off, I made sure to walk in a direction that’d get me the farthest away from everybody. I rarely got time to myself, so I was gonna enjoy all the peace and quiet I could get. Even if something did happen, I had my gun to defend myself.
The more and more I walked, the fact I didn’t find or at least hear any animals bothered me. The sounds of birds chirping, or the sounds of bugs should be apparent in an uninhabited island. Yet, there was nothing. The silence left me uneasy. I started thinking that maybe walking alone was a bad idea. “What if there was a bear that inhabited these woods, and one bullet wouldn’t be enough to put it down.” Thoughts like that filled my mind. I tried to calm myself down by thinking of something more…relaxing. “Maybe there was treasure on this island. Maybe if I found it, the captain would let me keep all of it.” My efforts were in vain.
My heart stopped when I heard the sound of a tree branch snapping in half right behind me. Slowly turning my head around, my body starts to nervously sweat, as the once firm tree branch was now laying on the ground. Trying to think rationally, I yank on one of the branches to see if maybe the wind had broken it. Fear set in, when the branch didn’t even move. I no longer felt safe. I gripped my gun so tight my knuckles turned white. Still walking, I tried to look around, and listen for any possible sounds.
I couldn’t help feeling anxious anytime my vision whipped from left to right. I braced myself for the moment I turned and saw something looking back at me, yet nothing happened. That is, until the whistling. The clear obvious sound of multiple figures whistling echoed through my ears. The sound was indistinguishably coming from the tops of the trees. I couldn’t see anyone because of the leaves blocking my vision.
The sound turned from whistling, to full on native chanting. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but what I did understand was that my life was at stake. Before I even knew it, my body was running in a random direction, trying it’s best to get to safety. I wasn’t an athletic person by any means, but at that moment I ran faster than a cheetah.
No matter how fast I ran though, the sounds of rustling leaves were coming from right behind me and approaching fast. The only thing that brought me comfort was that I at least was down here while they were up there. That comfort quickly vanished as time seemed to slow down as an arrow grazed my left cheek. Blood trickled down my cheek, as a rush of adrenaline coursed through my body. Arrow after arrow was fired in my direction, some almost even hitting me.I was never a religious person either, but now knowing I could get riddled with arrows, I prayed to whatever god was listening, hoping just one of them would answer me. An arrow pierced my shoulder washing away any faith I had in that moment. Thanks to the adrenaline I didn’t feel the pain, but that didn’t get rid of the fear.
The more arrows that missed eventually led to me coming up with a potential lifesaving theory. Either they were just terrible shots, or maybe they couldn’t see me either. Maybe they were just basing their shots off the sound I was making. I knew it was either take this chance on my theory, or I got shot with a barrage of arrows and die either way. So, I tested my luck, swiped a rock off the ground and dove behind a tree. I threw the rock further along the way, which caused the sounds of rustling leaves to continue on in that direction.
I breathed a sigh of relief and was able to relax for a moment. When the adrenaline wore off that’s when the aching pain in my legs finally hit me. I gripped my legs and covered my mouth, trying to muffle the screams from the cramps in my legs. It took about 5 minutes before I could even brace myself to stand. My legs wobbled as I braced myself against a tree.
Before I could even turn around and walk back to the ship, I felt my balls drop off when I felt someone breathing heavily against the back of my neck. I fall back to the ground now turned around, looking at a tall tribal looking man wearing a pig's head. He wielded a spear in his left hand. His body was completely covered in tattoos, ranging from skulls, to what I assumed must’ve been their native language. The mask muffled his breathing, but I could tell from how sporadic it was, he saw me as food. Live with constantly hungry pirates, and you’ll hear that sound all the time.
I whipped out my gun as he started approaching me. “S-stay back! I-I’ll shoot, I swear I will.” My hands shook violently, and I could barely hold my gun without it slipping out of my hand with how wet my hands were getting. “Bon no clulow” the man chanted. Even with my threat the man still approached. I shut my eyes closed, and with my hands still trembling, I pulled the trigger. I screamed loudly in pain, dropping my gun. Looking down, I see my hand covered in splinters, bleeding profusely. The barrel of the gun had exploded apart, and worst of all, the bullet didn’t even fire. The tribal man stood there completely unharmed.
The evilest inducing laugh crept from the mask. The man clearly found amusement seeing I was now unarmed. Raising his arm, he aims the spear right for my chest. Gathering whatever strength, I had left I rolled out of the way of the oncoming spear. I rose to my feet and began running again. “Wuloc uum tiga” screamed the man, clearly upset I still had the strength to run. The same whistling from before came from the man, as the familiar sound of leaves rustling came running in my direction. Despite all the fear, there was no adrenaline in my body. I could feel that my legs would give out at any moment.
“HELP, SOMEONE HELP!” With my last-ditch effort, I scream the loudest I can to try and alert anyone to my location. With any luck someone will come to my aid, and I’d make this their problem. My voice became hoarse with how loud I was screaming, and my legs couldn’t take anymore. No one was coming, and I was going to become food to these cannibal freaks.
My eyes instinctively closed as I felt my body fall towards the ground. I fell farther than I realistically should’ve, and when I opened my eyes, I saw I was falling down a hole. My body crashed and tumbled, causing cuts and scrapes to form all over my body. My head slammed against the stone wall and my vision became blurry. The last thing I saw before passing out was around 10 of the tribal men circling the hole.
When I regained consciousness, it took me a moment to remember what happened. Looking at my surroundings it all came flooding back to me. Looking out from the hole I saw it had become nighttime. “How long was I out for” I questioned? The fall had dislodged the arrow in my shoulder, so that wasn’t even my main concern. The ear-splitting headache caused me the most troubles, as I held the back of my head. I tried to listen for any sounds of people around the entrance of the hole. When I didn’t hear anything, I tried to peer my head out of the hole to no avail. The walls were too steep to climb. Any attempt just led to me slipping back down into the hole. I thought about calling out for help but was too worried about any of the tribal men hearing and coming to finish me off.
They were messing with me. Keeping me alive knowing I can’t escape from my prison. I sat in silence just hoping that someone from my crew would walk by and help me get out of here. I thought my luck had finally turned around when I heard the sound of people speaking a language I could understand slowly approaching. “Hey, hey. Over here, I’m trapped down here, please come help me.” 5 confused looking guys looked down the hole. I felt relieved realizing they were indeed from my crew.
“Hey it’s me Ryan. Look, like I said, I’m stuck, and I need help getting out of here.” The relieved look on my face vanished and turned to one of concern, when the 5 guys started laughing wildly. I looked at them and repeated what I said. “What’s so funny. Guys come on, help me out here. I’ve been trapped in here for hours, and my body is all busted up.
”My body filled up with anger as I watched as each one walked away leaving me trapped down here. I threw my head into my hands and held back the urge to scream. “Hehe, I’m gonna die down here, aren’t I? It’s only a matter of time before the tribal men come back and finish me off. I’m gonna be ripped apart as they feast on my body. I can’t even save myself, and my crew won’t even help me.”
I sat in defeat, just waiting for someone to come and finish me off. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I heard the sound of a person walking closer. I hung my head low believing this was it, this is where I die. To my utter confusion, I heard the voice of someone speaking English. In fact, the voice was oddly familiar. Looking up, I sprung to my feet realizing who it was. It was none other than my captain who was peering into the hole.
“Ryan, is that you” she asks? “Oh jeez, are you ok?” I explained the situation of what happened, but I left out the part where the 5 crew members left me down here. In my mind I was just begging that she’d help me get out of here. “Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.” She descends the hole with a rope tied around her waist. “Here, grab on, I’ll pull you out.” When I grabbed onto her, I was left speechless when she easily pulled not only herself, but me also out of the hole.
Being back onto the surface, I resisted the urge to violently kiss the ground. I laughed a little to myself feeling safe after everything that happened. “We should really get back to the ship so Shelby can take a look at you” the captain advises. “Even if the damage looks minor, it’d be safe just to make sure.” I agreed and we both began walking back to the ship.
“Ryan, why didn’t you use your flare to signal anyone that you were in danger” the captain questions? “Well, I didn’t have any flares. I never got any.” She turns and looks at me completely confused by what I said. “You didn’t get any? And you weren’t given a proper gun either?” I shook my head no, and she turned her head back and sighed in anger.
“So, did you guys find any treasure?” I try to switch the conversation to fill the air. “Yes actually. It’s nothing too impressive, just a standard crate with some gold in it. They’re probably loading it onto the ship right now” the captain replies. “Oh, well that’s good. Did anybody else run into any danger, or just me?” “Just you, I’m afraid. At least to my knowledge. Once we get back to the ship, I’ll make sure you get a pistol that actually works” the captain states.
It gets quiet again, and I think about saying something else. The only things I can think of talking about would only make things more awkward. “Ryan”, the captain randomly says. “How would you feel about getting trained with a sword?” I could make Sabore train you personally so you could defend yourself better in any dangerous situation. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you, but personally, I think it’d be good for you.” I’m kind of surprised by the sudden question. I’ve never really thought about it before. I mean It’d be a waste of time after all. It’s not like I could be any good at something like that.
“Oh, well, I don't know. I don’t think that’s something that’d work for me. After all, Sabore is just talented, and I’m not.” “That’s true, Sabore has been training for his entire life. But it’s not like I’m saying you have to be better than him by tomorrow. I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to know how to swing a blade properly” the captain rebuttals. “I guess.” Would Sabore even be a good teacher? Just because he’s good at something, doesn’t mean he’d be a good teacher.
As we walk back to the ship, I can't get over how those guys just left me there. I was so frustrated I wanted to tell the captain so bad about what happened. I knew that it’d only cause trouble amongst the crew though, and I didn’t want to become an even greater target for being a snitch. So, I just bit my tongue and kept quiet.
I hate to admit it, but walking behind the captain my eyes may have drifted a bit. Listen, if you were in my situation you’d understand. She may have great knockers, but she also had a great butt. I mean there’s nothing wrong with window shopping from time to time right…god I’m weird. The view did keep me distracted though and helped calm me down from the prior situation.
My heart started beating out of my chest, and I know what you’re probably thinking. Either she turned around and caught me staring, or I’m even more of a creep than previously believed. But no. A familiar sound came from right behind us, and it was approaching fast. The whistling from before was rapidly coming towards us, and before I had time to react, I heard the sound of 2 bullets being shot from a gun.
To my surprise, the captain had drawn her gun fast enough to fire off 2 shots before the tribal men reached us. 2 lifeless bodies fell to the ground with a thud, followed along by 3 other men. The 3 other men were enraged by their brethren being shot down and even through their masks, I could tell they gave us the look of death. One wore crows, basically a bunch of dead crows melted together to form a mask. Another wore fish, and the other was the pig from before. Each one carried a spear aimed directly towards us.
“Captain, we should run back to the ship. You’re out of bullets and I’m basically useless. We should get reinforcements, after all there's strength in numbers.” “Ryan,” the captain says. “Do you not trust your captain?” I turn my head wondering how that’s relevant. “What?” “Do you not trust your captain?” “Well of course I do, but” “Then sit back and let me handle this” she interrupts.
The captain walks past me which causes the men to charge towards her. With excellent movement she ducks the oncoming swing, and with the kinetic force, unsheathes her sword, slicing the crow man's throat. Blood spurts out as his throat clogs up. Falling to the ground the man shortly dies choking on his own blood. The fish man tries to follow up with a piercing strike, but the captain, being much quicker, grabs it between her armpit, and thrusts her blade into the man's chest.
She removes the blade and uses the padding on her elbow jacket to wipe the blood off. She points the tip of her blade towards the pig man, clearly trying to egg him on. Instead, he places his spear on the ground and slowly backs away. When he’s fully out of sight the captain relaxes and sheathes her sword. When she looks back towards me, she gives a confused look. “What, why are you looking at me like that?” I hadn’t realized my jaw was gaping open. I was so stunned by how well she fought; my face must’ve looked stupid with how surprised I was. “I-I didn’t know you were that cool” I said. Her eyes for a brief moment widened before returning to normal. “Oh, that wasn’t cool. You should see how I fight on the battlefield. Now that would really blow your mind” she says, before continuing to lead me back to the ship.
When we got back to the ship, the crew had already hauled the treasure to the loot room. I didn’t bother to go see how much the treasure pile got bigger because it already was so big to begin with, I doubt I’d see a difference. “So, where did you guys find the treasure at?” “It was actually in a hole similar to the one you were trapped in. It was placed in front of this altar looking thing. I guess these tribal people were using it as some sort of offering to whatever god they worshiped” the captain explains. “Yeah, about that, thanks for getting me out of there.” “It’s no problem. You were actually the reason I was still out there. I saw you hadn’t come back, and no one had seen you the entire time everyone was searching, so I got a little worried. Gotta take care of my crew so I went off looking for you” the captain says. My face blushes a bit when hearing that.
“Oh right, here Ryan, take this” the captain says handing me her gun. “Oh no, you can’t give me your special gun. You had that specifically commissioned to carry 2 bullets, why give it to someone like me? It’d be wasted in my hands.” She just scoffs at my remark. “Please just take it. It’s really not a big deal, I’ve got a better one anyways” she says, using her right hand to point a finger gun at me. “Bang.” I laugh at her childish antics and take the gun. “Now go get yourself looked at by Shelby, and after that, be sure to get a good night's rest. Call it a hunch, but I’m quite certain you’ll be woken up at 5 in the morning for some training” the captain says.
Following the captain’s orders, I get checked by the ship's doctor Shelby. She pulls the splinters out and wraps my hand. She also covers up the arrow hole in my shoulder, and after some tests determines I don’t have a concussion. After she’s done, I’m sent on my way. I want nothing more than to lay down and sleep after a hard day I had. When I walk to my room though I see 5 men standing in front of my door. “Uh, hey guys. What’s up?” From what I could tell, they weren’t exactly happy to see me. They intimidatingly walked towards me until I was backed up against a wall.
“You didn’t say anything, did you squirt” one guy asks? “What do you mean?” The first guy punches me right in my stomach, sending me to my knees. “Don’t act stupid, you know what I’m talking about. Did you say anything” he repeats. Looking back up I remember who these 5 are. They’re the ones who left me in the hole when I needed help. I defensively put my hands up, “What no no no, I didn’t say anything, I swear.” In his annoyance the guy kicks me in my gut. I have to hold back from throwing up from the pain shooting through my body. “You better not have. We don’t like snitches. And if word gets out about this, then this will get a lot worse for you” he says before he and his goons walk away.
I get back to my feet and head into my room. I remove my gun holster and place it on the table in the corner of my room. I change my clothes and crawl right into bed. Laying my head down I could already feel myself starting to doze off. In a matter of seconds, my eyes closed, and I fell into a deep sleep.
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Ever since people could remember, being a pirate was the norm. Whether you were a child or an adult the seas called to you, intriguing you with vast treasure and harrowing adventures. Out into the ocean you lived a life of freedom, with no one but the captain to tell you what to do. Best of all, being surrounded by your best mates. It’d seemed like the perfect life in the eyes of many. At least, that’s how it always looks. For me, I didn’t have a choice.
I don’t remember that day, besides waking up on board the ship. In fact, I could barely remember anything before becoming a pirate. The story I was told, was apparently, I was caught in a freak accident and that I was lucky to be alive. When the captain saw my condition, she took pity on me and with the help of the ship's doctor, nursed me back to health. When I finally woke up and was informed on everything, I was given an ultimatum. Either become a member of the crew, or they’d leave me on the next island they came across. I knew that accepting the latter option would result in my eventual death, so I took them up on their offer.
And ever since then, I’ve been a member of the Blue Barren pirates. 3 months of my time has been spent as part of the crew. Like I said earlier most people think the pirate life is all adventure, but in reality, it’s mostly just chore after chore.I was a cabin boy, so basically a pawn to the whole crew. Any inconvenient task, I was the one they called. Hey cabin boy, mop the deck, go clean the toilets, go make yourself useful and wash the dishes. That’s all I heard for most of my time here, people barking around order after order. I wouldn’t have minded as much if my crew knew the slightest bit of manners. Never once did I hear a, please, thank you, or even a good job. Hell, they couldn’t even be bothered to remember that my name was Ryan.
The comments my crew would harass me with didn’t help me feel better either. “Jesus, I mean can you even qualify him as a man. With his build he may as well be a woman. Those wide hips, any man would take apart in that. Hey sweetie, when you’re done cleaning go make me a sandwich, ahahaha.” Day in and day out, these drunken slobs used me for their entertainment. The only saving grace I had was on the rare occasions one of the 3 commanders heard what was being said to me.
The man who insulted me earlier, hollered in pain as a boot came stomping down onto his hand. When the man looked up ready to fight whoever did this, he immediately sat back down when he saw the face of one of the commanders looking back at him. Pointing at me the commander angrily says, “I want you to look at him and say you’re sorry. If you’re a part of this crew, then everyone needs to be treated like family. If you don’t like it, then you can haul your ass off this ship.” The man muttered something under his breath before giving the fakest apology ever. I clenched my fist wanting to punch the man myself, I restrained myself knowing it would do me any good. I knew the apology wouldn’t get any more sincere, so I just accepted it. The man gave me the nastiest look, and he and his friends walked off.
I knew it didn’t matter if he got caught this time, it never changed anything. I was nobody on this ship. I was disposable. Nobody remembered my name, so why would anyone remember if I was being harassed or not, and they all knew and took advantage of that. I hated them for the way they’d treat me, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t fight them, I’m short and scrawny. Even if everyone else is 300 pounds and out of shape they are still pirates who’ve seen battle. While I’ve never even shot my gun or been in a fight all my life. So, I grit my teeth and sucked it up and went back to my tasks.
Although, I guess it wouldn’t be fair to say I hated everyone on the crew. The 3 commanders were cool people, I guess. They stood up for me whenever they saw me being harassed. Sabore, the swordsman, Nixon, the gunslinger, and Drave, the strongest member on the crew, are people I admired. Each one was incredibly talented, I wanted nothing more than to be as skilled as they were. On occasion Drave would ask me to work out with him, but I always declined. One day, I entered his room and tried to lift the smallest weight he owned. Yet I humiliatingly couldn’t even budge the thing. Each one believed the captain's code, that the crew was supposed to be a family. But not many thought the same as her.
Speaking of the captain, she was something completely different. It wasn’t an over exaggeration to say that she was every man’s dream. Long flowing red hair that looked like autumn leaves. She stood at the immaculate height of 6’2 and had such an elegant physique. She wasn’t overly muscular, but she was definitely lean. Plus, she had a nice pair of…knockers. She spoke with such confidence that made even most skeptics believe in her word. Men from any island we’d land at would bow to her beauty. They’d most likely surrender their left testicle just for the chance to have her attention, if given the opportunity.
Despite all that, she didn’t give them the time of day. Her mind was focused on her goal, something everyone on the crew wished to help make a reality. Conquering the 5th ocean. When I first heard of the 5th ocean, I believed it just had to be a myth. I mean what place could be so dangerous that pirates haven’t already conquered it. Are bounty was pretty big but there were pirates who were much stronger and had way higher bounties than us. So, I just couldn’t believe such a place existed. Plus, the rumors of the dangerous creatures that inhabited the 5th ocean sounded straight from a fairytale.
Thinking that at one point the crew’s reputation used to be small blows my mind. When I joined, the crew all together had a bounty of 50 million. Apparently, it grew at such a high rate because of an incident regarding a marine captain. The marines labeled the crew as the risky rookies with how fast the bounty grew.
On some nights when we took residence at random islands, the crew would tell their stories to the local residents. Hearing just how they got their bounty so high was some of the better experiences I had. It was moments like these that I didn’t really mind the company of the crew. Some of them were great story tellers and I was always left on the edge of my seat with excitement. I loved hearing all about the battles they had against the marines, and all the treasure they found on their journey.
I always wondered what stories I would have to tell one day. It was a common fantasy of mine that I would be met face to face with the most menacing marine captain in battle. The rain would be crashing down, as thunder struck from the heavens. Sword in hand, I would charge into the fight. 3 grueling days would go by as the most intense fight would be going on. With one finale attack my sword would pierce his heart, and I’d watch as his lifeless body would fall to the ground. I’d then stand tall and raise my hand in victory.
I knew that no matter what though, it’d be nothing more than a fantasy. In an actual fight I’d be nothing more than dead weight. Forced to have to watch as my crew fend off the enemy. The only thing I had to defend myself was an old hand me down pistol a crew member gave me. The gun was withered and rusty, I’d be surprised if the thing could even fire. It was still better than nothing, so I kept it by my side at all times.
A bell rang, as the loud bellowing voice of the chef screams out, “Oi, dinner is ready. Everybody line up and come get your food before it’s all gone.” I grab a plate from the separate table and get in line. I was lucky and had a spot near the front, or that’s what I thought at first. Not even a minute of me waiting in line, I felt my ass hit against the floor. When I looked up I saw an obese 300 pound man weaseling his way into my spot. “U-um, e-excuse me. Th-that was”, “shut your damn mouth and get to the back of the line” interrupts the man.I grab my plate and stomp back to the end of the line. I waited patiently despite clearly being upset. I’m sure my face wasn’t pleasant to look at. I waited and waited, feeling my stomach growl with hunger. When it was my turn after what felt like hours of waiting, I was hit with terrible news. “Sorry buddy, there’s nothing left. I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles. Try getting in line earlier, and maybe you’ll get something to eat” the chef advises. I hang my head down and slowly walk.
I headed to my room and made sure that no one was around. When I deemed it safe, I walked into my room and crawled under my bed. I reached and pushed an old box to the side and retrieved a piece of bread I had swiped from the pantry a while ago. That day was one of the most sweat inducing days as the sun seemed to be aiming straight for me. Much like today I was denied any food for dinner. When I was walking back to the lower decks, I noticed the pantry was unlocked and no one was inside. My stomach turned as the desperate feeling of needing to eat overcame me. That’s when I swiped this bread and hid it in my room. It wasn’t too big, so I knew I needed to ration it, so bit by bit I ripped a piece off and ate it.
A disgusting taste filled my mouth as I coughed up the bread. The bread had become moldy by the time I was eating it and knew it wouldn’t be safe to eat for much longer. I dreaded thinking of the days where I wouldn’t get to eat anything and wouldn’t even have this to eat. When I was finished with my rations, I crawled back down and placed the bread right back into its hiding place. When I got back onto my bed, I eyed my candle for about 5 minutes. The flame was weak and seemed close to giving out. For some reason I couldn’t help compare myself to the flame. How close was I before I couldn’t take this anymore?
The next day an announcement was made considering our next course of action. The navigator told us we’d be heading to Zao, the pirate marketplace. Zao was a huge manmade island for pirates all over the seas to congregate to. It sold an abundance of goods any pirate could ask for. For the right price you could buy anything from sails, canons, even hire a shipwright to fix up your ship. I wasn’t too excited since I’d most likely be forced to stay on the ship. So, I went back to doing my tasks while everyone else listened to the rest of the announcement.
Later that night when I was mopping the top deck, I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion between the captain and the commanders. I decided to eavesdrop a little and placed my ear to the door. “The marines are becoming more powerful as the months go by. Word is they’ve got something up their sleeves, and it doesn’t sound good. Now no one knows exactly what it is, being a marine secret and all, but if it’s as dangerous as people are saying, pirates will be in a world of trouble” Sabore explains. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that too. The marines have been a thorn in our side ever since fleet admiral Tengu rose to power. However, we can’t let the marines start scaring us now. The seas belong to the pirates, and that’s something that will never change. I’d rather die than see the ocean be ruled by those pesky marines” the captain states.
I wanted to listen more, but the sound of footsteps coming closer made me scurry away. I couldn’t help but be intrigued with what they were talking about. The marines, our enemy, had something that was stirring up some worry? Marines have been nothing more than a joke to everyone, people desperate for any sort of power or control. If they now had something to turn the tides against the pirates, that’d surely cause problems for the future. I knew it was something I really didn’t need to worry about, so I cleared the thought out of my mind, and headed to my room for some sleep.
When morning rolled around, I looked around confused when I couldn’t find anybody. The lower deck and 2nd deck were all completely empty. Everyone for some reason was on the top deck staring at something. I tried peering around to see what had grabbed everyone’s attention. Looking in the same direction I saw what looked like any normal island. I was disappointed thinking we could have already been to Zao in such a short time. The navigator looked at multiple maps and couldn’t find the island anywhere. It was soon deemed as unexplored and when the captain heard that she declared we’d head over and search the island.I thought it was a complete waste of time. The whole reason we were heading to Zao was because we needed to stock up on supplies. So why then risk going to this unmarked island without being properly prepared? But the captain’s word was law, so even if I disagreed, I couldn’t argue.
The more and more the island came into view the more my heart filled with dread. I was looking at a decently sized island, that was 90% forest. The other 10% was an empty looking hill. I knew at that moment we’d most likely be searching the island all day. The trees would cover potential hiding spots so the captain would want an extra thorough search. I could already feel my feet starting to hurt the closer we got to the island.
We anchored the ship right up upon the edge of the island, and one by one, we walked onto the beach. “Alright everyone listen up” the captain says. “We’re gonna spend the rest of the day scouring the island for any possible treasure. Make sure you’ve got your flares with you and be ready to signal if anything happens. I can’t promise the island will be safe, so if anything goes down make sure to let everyone know.” I didn’t have any flares. And I wasn’t planning on grouping up with anyone. I didn’t believe the island could be dangerous, because if it was, I feel like we’d already would’ve been attacked by now.
When we all marched off, I made sure to walk in a direction that’d get me the farthest away from everybody. I rarely got time to myself, so I was gonna enjoy all the peace and quiet I could get. Even if something did happen, I had my gun to defend myself.
The more and more I walked, the fact I didn’t find or at least hear any animals bothered me. The sounds of birds chirping, or the sounds of bugs should be apparent in an uninhabited island. Yet, there was nothing. The silence left me uneasy. I started thinking that maybe walking alone was a bad idea. “What if there was a bear that inhabited these woods, and one bullet wouldn’t be enough to put it down.” Thoughts like that filled my mind. I tried to calm myself down by thinking of something more…relaxing. “Maybe there was treasure on this island. Maybe if I found it, the captain would let me keep all of it.” My efforts were in vain.
My heart stopped when I heard the sound of a tree branch snapping in half right behind me. Slowly turning my head around, my body starts to nervously sweat, as the once firm tree branch was now laying on the ground. Trying to think rationally, I yank on one of the branches to see if maybe the wind had broken it. Fear set in, when the branch didn’t even move. I no longer felt safe. I gripped my gun so tight my knuckles turned white. Still walking, I tried to look around, and listen for any possible sounds.
I couldn’t help feeling anxious anytime my vision whipped from left to right. I braced myself for the moment I turned and saw something looking back at me, yet nothing happened. That is, until the whistling. The clear obvious sound of multiple figures whistling echoed through my ears. The sound was indistinguishably coming from the tops of the trees. I couldn’t see anyone because of the leaves blocking my vision.
The sound turned from whistling, to full on native chanting. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but what I did understand was that my life was at stake. Before I even knew it, my body was running in a random direction, trying it’s best to get to safety. I wasn’t an athletic person by any means, but at that moment I ran faster than a cheetah.
No matter how fast I ran though, the sounds of rustling leaves were coming from right behind me and approaching fast. The only thing that brought me comfort was that I at least was down here while they were up there. That comfort quickly vanished as time seemed to slow down as an arrow grazed my left cheek. Blood trickled down my cheek, as a rush of adrenaline coursed through my body. Arrow after arrow was fired in my direction, some almost even hitting me.I was never a religious person either, but now knowing I could get riddled with arrows, I prayed to whatever god was listening, hoping just one of them would answer me. An arrow pierced my shoulder washing away any faith I had in that moment. Thanks to the adrenaline I didn’t feel the pain, but that didn’t get rid of the fear.
The more arrows that missed eventually led to me coming up with a potential lifesaving theory. Either they were just terrible shots, or maybe they couldn’t see me either. Maybe they were just basing their shots off the sound I was making. I knew it was either take this chance on my theory, or I got shot with a barrage of arrows and die either way. So, I tested my luck, swiped a rock off the ground and dove behind a tree. I threw the rock further along the way, which caused the sounds of rustling leaves to continue on in that direction.
I breathed a sigh of relief and was able to relax for a moment. When the adrenaline wore off that’s when the aching pain in my legs finally hit me. I gripped my legs and covered my mouth, trying to muffle the screams from the cramps in my legs. It took about 5 minutes before I could even brace myself to stand. My legs wobbled as I braced myself against a tree.
Before I could even turn around and walk back to the ship, I felt my balls drop off when I felt someone breathing heavily against the back of my neck. I fall back to the ground now turned around, looking at a tall tribal looking man wearing a pig's head. He wielded a spear in his left hand. His body was completely covered in tattoos, ranging from skulls, to what I assumed must’ve been their native language. The mask muffled his breathing, but I could tell from how sporadic it was, he saw me as food. Live with constantly hungry pirates, and you’ll hear that sound all the time.
I whipped out my gun as he started approaching me. “S-stay back! I-I’ll shoot, I swear I will.” My hands shook violently, and I could barely hold my gun without it slipping out of my hand with how wet my hands were getting. “Bon no clulow” the man chanted. Even with my threat the man still approached. I shut my eyes closed, and with my hands still trembling, I pulled the trigger. I screamed loudly in pain, dropping my gun. Looking down, I see my hand covered in splinters, bleeding profusely. The barrel of the gun had exploded apart, and worst of all, the bullet didn’t even fire. The tribal man stood there completely unharmed.
The evilest inducing laugh crept from the mask. The man clearly found amusement seeing I was now unarmed. Raising his arm, he aims the spear right for my chest. Gathering whatever strength, I had left I rolled out of the way of the oncoming spear. I rose to my feet and began running again. “Wuloc uum tiga” screamed the man, clearly upset I still had the strength to run. The same whistling from before came from the man, as the familiar sound of leaves rustling came running in my direction. Despite all the fear, there was no adrenaline in my body. I could feel that my legs would give out at any moment.
“HELP, SOMEONE HELP!” With my last-ditch effort, I scream the loudest I can to try and alert anyone to my location. With any luck someone will come to my aid, and I’d make this their problem. My voice became hoarse with how loud I was screaming, and my legs couldn’t take anymore. No one was coming, and I was going to become food to these cannibal freaks.
My eyes instinctively closed as I felt my body fall towards the ground. I fell farther than I realistically should’ve, and when I opened my eyes, I saw I was falling down a hole. My body crashed and tumbled, causing cuts and scrapes to form all over my body. My head slammed against the stone wall and my vision became blurry. The last thing I saw before passing out was around 10 of the tribal men circling the hole.
When I regained consciousness, it took me a moment to remember what happened. Looking at my surroundings it all came flooding back to me. Looking out from the hole I saw it had become nighttime. “How long was I out for” I questioned? The fall had dislodged the arrow in my shoulder, so that wasn’t even my main concern. The ear-splitting headache caused me the most troubles, as I held the back of my head. I tried to listen for any sounds of people around the entrance of the hole. When I didn’t hear anything, I tried to peer my head out of the hole to no avail. The walls were too steep to climb. Any attempt just led to me slipping back down into the hole. I thought about calling out for help but was too worried about any of the tribal men hearing and coming to finish me off.
They were messing with me. Keeping me alive knowing I can’t escape from my prison. I sat in silence just hoping that someone from my crew would walk by and help me get out of here. I thought my luck had finally turned around when I heard the sound of people speaking a language I could understand slowly approaching. “Hey, hey. Over here, I’m trapped down here, please come help me.” 5 confused looking guys looked down the hole. I felt relieved realizing they were indeed from my crew.
“Hey it’s me Ryan. Look, like I said, I’m stuck, and I need help getting out of here.” The relieved look on my face vanished and turned to one of concern, when the 5 guys started laughing wildly. I looked at them and repeated what I said. “What’s so funny. Guys come on, help me out here. I’ve been trapped in here for hours, and my body is all busted up.
”My body filled up with anger as I watched as each one walked away leaving me trapped down here. I threw my head into my hands and held back the urge to scream. “Hehe, I’m gonna die down here, aren’t I? It’s only a matter of time before the tribal men come back and finish me off. I’m gonna be ripped apart as they feast on my body. I can’t even save myself, and my crew won’t even help me.”
I sat in defeat, just waiting for someone to come and finish me off. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I heard the sound of a person walking closer. I hung my head low believing this was it, this is where I die. To my utter confusion, I heard the voice of someone speaking English. In fact, the voice was oddly familiar. Looking up, I sprung to my feet realizing who it was. It was none other than my captain who was peering into the hole.
“Ryan, is that you” she asks? “Oh jeez, are you ok?” I explained the situation of what happened, but I left out the part where the 5 crew members left me down here. In my mind I was just begging that she’d help me get out of here. “Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.” She descends the hole with a rope tied around her waist. “Here, grab on, I’ll pull you out.” When I grabbed onto her, I was left speechless when she easily pulled not only herself, but me also out of the hole.
Being back onto the surface, I resisted the urge to violently kiss the ground. I laughed a little to myself feeling safe after everything that happened. “We should really get back to the ship so Shelby can take a look at you” the captain advises. “Even if the damage looks minor, it’d be safe just to make sure.” I agreed and we both began walking back to the ship.
“Ryan, why didn’t you use your flare to signal anyone that you were in danger” the captain questions? “Well, I didn’t have any flares. I never got any.” She turns and looks at me completely confused by what I said. “You didn’t get any? And you weren’t given a proper gun either?” I shook my head no, and she turned her head back and sighed in anger.
“So, did you guys find any treasure?” I try to switch the conversation to fill the air. “Yes actually. It’s nothing too impressive, just a standard crate with some gold in it. They’re probably loading it onto the ship right now” the captain replies. “Oh, well that’s good. Did anybody else run into any danger, or just me?” “Just you, I’m afraid. At least to my knowledge. Once we get back to the ship, I’ll make sure you get a pistol that actually works” the captain states.
It gets quiet again, and I think about saying something else. The only things I can think of talking about would only make things more awkward. “Ryan”, the captain randomly says. “How would you feel about getting trained with a sword?” I could make Sabore train you personally so you could defend yourself better in any dangerous situation. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you, but personally, I think it’d be good for you.” I’m kind of surprised by the sudden question. I’ve never really thought about it before. I mean It’d be a waste of time after all. It’s not like I could be any good at something like that.
“Oh, well, I don't know. I don’t think that’s something that’d work for me. After all, Sabore is just talented, and I’m not.” “That’s true, Sabore has been training for his entire life. But it’s not like I’m saying you have to be better than him by tomorrow. I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to know how to swing a blade properly” the captain rebuttals. “I guess.” Would Sabore even be a good teacher? Just because he’s good at something, doesn’t mean he’d be a good teacher.
As we walk back to the ship, I can't get over how those guys just left me there. I was so frustrated I wanted to tell the captain so bad about what happened. I knew that it’d only cause trouble amongst the crew though, and I didn’t want to become an even greater target for being a snitch. So, I just bit my tongue and kept quiet.
I hate to admit it, but walking behind the captain my eyes may have drifted a bit. Listen, if you were in my situation you’d understand. She may have great knockers, but she also had a great butt. I mean there’s nothing wrong with window shopping from time to time right…god I’m weird. The view did keep me distracted though and helped calm me down from the prior situation.
My heart started beating out of my chest, and I know what you’re probably thinking. Either she turned around and caught me staring, or I’m even more of a creep than previously believed. But no. A familiar sound came from right behind us, and it was approaching fast. The whistling from before was rapidly coming towards us, and before I had time to react, I heard the sound of 2 bullets being shot from a gun.
To my surprise, the captain had drawn her gun fast enough to fire off 2 shots before the tribal men reached us. 2 lifeless bodies fell to the ground with a thud, followed along by 3 other men. The 3 other men were enraged by their brethren being shot down and even through their masks, I could tell they gave us the look of death. One wore crows, basically a bunch of dead crows melted together to form a mask. Another wore fish, and the other was the pig from before. Each one carried a spear aimed directly towards us.
“Captain, we should run back to the ship. You’re out of bullets and I’m basically useless. We should get reinforcements, after all there's strength in numbers.” “Ryan,” the captain says. “Do you not trust your captain?” I turn my head wondering how that’s relevant. “What?” “Do you not trust your captain?” “Well of course I do, but” “Then sit back and let me handle this” she interrupts.
The captain walks past me which causes the men to charge towards her. With excellent movement she ducks the oncoming swing, and with the kinetic force, unsheathes her sword, slicing the crow man's throat. Blood spurts out as his throat clogs up. Falling to the ground the man shortly dies choking on his own blood. The fish man tries to follow up with a piercing strike, but the captain, being much quicker, grabs it between her armpit, and thrusts her blade into the man's chest.
She removes the blade and uses the padding on her elbow jacket to wipe the blood off. She points the tip of her blade towards the pig man, clearly trying to egg him on. Instead, he places his spear on the ground and slowly backs away. When he’s fully out of sight the captain relaxes and sheathes her sword. When she looks back towards me, she gives a confused look. “What, why are you looking at me like that?” I hadn’t realized my jaw was gaping open. I was so stunned by how well she fought; my face must’ve looked stupid with how surprised I was. “I-I didn’t know you were that cool” I said. Her eyes for a brief moment widened before returning to normal. “Oh, that wasn’t cool. You should see how I fight on the battlefield. Now that would really blow your mind” she says, before continuing to lead me back to the ship.
When we got back to the ship, the crew had already hauled the treasure to the loot room. I didn’t bother to go see how much the treasure pile got bigger because it already was so big to begin with, I doubt I’d see a difference. “So, where did you guys find the treasure at?” “It was actually in a hole similar to the one you were trapped in. It was placed in front of this altar looking thing. I guess these tribal people were using it as some sort of offering to whatever god they worshiped” the captain explains. “Yeah, about that, thanks for getting me out of there.” “It’s no problem. You were actually the reason I was still out there. I saw you hadn’t come back, and no one had seen you the entire time everyone was searching, so I got a little worried. Gotta take care of my crew so I went off looking for you” the captain says. My face blushes a bit when hearing that.
“Oh right, here Ryan, take this” the captain says handing me her gun. “Oh no, you can’t give me your special gun. You had that specifically commissioned to carry 2 bullets, why give it to someone like me? It’d be wasted in my hands.” She just scoffs at my remark. “Please just take it. It’s really not a big deal, I’ve got a better one anyways” she says, using her right hand to point a finger gun at me. “Bang.” I laugh at her childish antics and take the gun. “Now go get yourself looked at by Shelby, and after that, be sure to get a good night's rest. Call it a hunch, but I’m quite certain you’ll be woken up at 5 in the morning for some training” the captain says.
Following the captain’s orders, I get checked by the ship's doctor Shelby. She pulls the splinters out and wraps my hand. She also covers up the arrow hole in my shoulder, and after some tests determines I don’t have a concussion. After she’s done, I’m sent on my way. I want nothing more than to lay down and sleep after a hard day I had. When I walk to my room though I see 5 men standing in front of my door. “Uh, hey guys. What’s up?” From what I could tell, they weren’t exactly happy to see me. They intimidatingly walked towards me until I was backed up against a wall.
“You didn’t say anything, did you squirt” one guy asks? “What do you mean?” The first guy punches me right in my stomach, sending me to my knees. “Don’t act stupid, you know what I’m talking about. Did you say anything” he repeats. Looking back up I remember who these 5 are. They’re the ones who left me in the hole when I needed help. I defensively put my hands up, “What no no no, I didn’t say anything, I swear.” In his annoyance the guy kicks me in my gut. I have to hold back from throwing up from the pain shooting through my body. “You better not have. We don’t like snitches. And if word gets out about this, then this will get a lot worse for you” he says before he and his goons walk away.
I get back to my feet and head into my room. I remove my gun holster and place it on the table in the corner of my room. I change my clothes and crawl right into bed. Laying my head down I could already feel myself starting to doze off. In a matter of seconds, my eyes closed, and I fell into a deep sleep.
2023.11.18 08:04 nomorelandfills The Emily Ruckle attack, part III - The Final Surgery
 | submitted by nomorelandfills to BanPitBulls [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/ns1ki1dy021c1.png?width=698&format=png&auto=webp&s=fc5bfae30958dbe24b1beaa4edfa9038aaeaeabc Emily Ruckle arrived at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia clutching root-beer flavored Chapstick. Two years after a pit bull nearly severed her right arm during an attack in the family home, the 10-year-old braced for her 12th surgery. She would smear Chapstick on the anesthesia mask to hide the dreaded medicine-like smell she associates with surgery. "You know you're a frequent flier when you bring your own chapstick," her mother, Maria Ruckle of Newark joked as the family waited in the surgical suite. Doctors hoped this procedure would give Emily more mobility, more dexterity. She couldn't lift her right arm over her head, make a fist with her right hand or grasp her cell phone with her right hand. Picking up whisper-thin pieces of a board game required so much concentration her face burned red with exertion. Still, Emily did not want to endure another surgery. And she made the case that her arm worked fine, that 11 prior surgeries had saved her arm and repaired enough nerve damage to give her a normal life. She worried it might go wrong. "They said maybe it will mess with the nerves and it might, like, hurt me," Emily explained in the weeks before returning to CHOP for the final surgery. "So I don’t want any chances of it." Earlier in the summer, plastic surgeon Ines Lin gently moved the fingers on Emily's right hand to show her and her parents how all four would bend in unison if a tendon transfer surgery was successful. Tendons are strong connective tissues that attach muscles to bone. In a tendon transfer, surgeons take a working tendon and attach it to tendons and muscles that have nerve damage. Over time the attached tendons fuse together, giving a patient more motion. In Emily’s case, the tendons would be taken from her right arm. Securing movement in the thumb would be more complicated, Lin said, but with luck and physical therapy, Emily had a realistic chance of using her right hand to grab and hold objects. Emily stared into space and brought her legs up to her face. She bit her knees as her parents agreed to the surgery on Aug. 19, one week before Emily started fifth grade. Todd and Maria Ruckle were certain they had made the right decision. One was the best chance Emily had to be able to use her right hand after the attack. The day of surgery, nurses applied root-beer Chapstick to Emily's anesthesia mask. But it didn't do its magic this time, and Emily began to panic and cry as the anesthesiologist covered her face. "Nice, deep, breathing," the anesthesiologist cooed. He removed the tube through which the medicine was applied. “See?” he said, again placing the mask over her face. Emily relaxed. Then he attached the tube. Deep breath, he said, "just like a dive in the pool." Emily's eyes fluttered and slowly closed. She’s asleep. Again. One month earlier, on a sweltering day in July, Emily, already sunburned from too much time at Wildwood, New Jersey, turned bright red at A.I. duPont Hospital for Children in Wilmington. She scrunched her nose and squinted her eyes as she willed her left hand to grip a small game board piece and drop it in a tray. It was as if the piece, about the size of a quarter, weighed 100 pounds. Emily’s first 11 surgeries left a build-up of scar tissue in her shoulder, which is stiffer and inhibits movement. Therapists at A.I. carefully massaged her shoulder and arm to break up that scar tissue. And martial arts classes helped train both sides of her body, strengthening both arms equally. Therapist Tracy Shank worked with Emily on reawakening nerve impulses by having her do everyday activities such as tying shoes. Shank rubbed a green pom-pom and materials on Emily's right hand to see if she could feel the sensation. Some worked, others did not. Emily has fearlessly stared down her injuries. One day, she did somersaults on the exam room table, careful that her arms did not touch the table. Another day, as her mom helped her get dressed for Taekwondo, Emily announced to her parents: “I can sort of do a cartwheel.” They smiled nervously in response, happy that Emily's childlike zest for life was returning. But they did not want Emily's energy to cause an unintended injury. "More time has to pass before we let the daredevil in her to come back out," Todd said. Casual observers see little evidence of trauma in Emily. Since the mauling, she’s gone from 59 pounds to 83 and sprouted long, limber legs and sinewy arms that help her bend, twist and spin through the day. The attack did nothing to dim her infectious personality and determination. Emily is not phased by the word "no" from her parents, and uses her rehabilitated arm to hug her mother extremely tight and poke her dad in the stomach. The fifth-grader is not afraid to wear a bathing suit or pose for pictures with her family. Her biggest challenge, she said, is making it through common core math. The horror of the attack made Emily's parents realize how fragile life is, and they pushed to create new family memories. They’ve taken Emily on cruises, to Disney World, to the Poconos and to Rome and Turkey – a recent trip inspired by her love of the Magic Tree House novel "Vacation Under the Volcano." Hawaii is now on the radar. Emily has become comfortable again around most dogs, including those in her home. She remains uneasy about pit bulls, although therapy has helped. At the University of Delaware’s Ag Day in April, Maria was shocked to watch Emily pet a pit bull. Her parents aren't so trusting of pit bulls. They advocate for stronger animal control laws such as mandatory insurance for dog owners. After the attack, the Ruckles received letters from pit bull advocates, Maria says. One wrote that her daughter should have been shot instead of the dog. The last surgery On the morning of the 12th surgery, Todd proved to be a good distraction as the family waited for Lin: He split his shorts along a seam in the crotch. Emily gave him the eye and collapsed in laughter on the gurney. "It didn't fully rip," Todd groused, looking down at his khakis. Emily cradled an iPhone in her injured right hand, her index finger and thumb fixed in a straight position. Because of nerve damage, the fingers would not curl over the phone to fully grip it. Emily talked nonstop and played games on her phone to ease her nerves. Freddy, a new stuffed friend won at Wildwood, sat next to her. She would not be getting "giggle juice," a medicine given to kids to help them relax before going into the operating room, Emily announced. The taste reminded her of spoiled bubblegum mixed with vomit, she said. Lin appeared in baby blue scrubs, her engagement and wedding bands on a chain around her neck, and she tried to calm Emily’s nerves. "How are you doing?" Lin asked, grabbing Emily’s left hand and holding on. This would be Lin's second surgery of the day. "I'm scared," Emily said. Dressed in royal blue soft cotton pants and a short-sleeved pullover printed with pictures of planets, Emily's eyes looked glassy as Lin explained the surgery – one more time. Lin stamped Emily’s right hand with a red X and placed that hand over a white blanket so she can intently study it. In addition to the tendon transfer, Lin planned to work on scar tissue to make it look better. Emily played with Freddy, rubbing his cheeks as Lin finished debriefing the family. Nurse Nicole Peck wheeled Emily to the operating room as her parents reached for one more hug, Maria burrowing into Emily's face. "I'll be here when you wake up," Maria said. The operating room smelled like Clorox, and Emily’s mood suddenly changed. Her pupils grew wide as she eyed the pile of scalpels and scissors. She looked around, the apprehension in her face apparent. Someone shouted out that Emily was allergic to adhesives. Nurses draped a warm blanket over Emily then belted her to the stretcher. After Emily was sedated, music mixed with the beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor and other machinery. "Treat You Better" by Canadian pop idol Shawn Mendes crackled to life through the streaming Pandora station. Nurses propped up Emily with yellow foam rollers and placed another layer of blankets over her. "Freddy gets a mask," Lin said, even though Emily isn’t awake to see it. He would also be fitted with a red cast on his right arm, just like Emily. At 9:24 a.m., Lin injected a steroid into scars on Emily’s left shoulder to soothe inflammation and smooth the wound. She also cut into a small scar on the outside of her forearm so it could be resown, improving its appearance. Lin examined a six-inch silver raised scar on Emily’s right forearm, and marked it. This would be the entry point for surgery. The doctor's cut revealed yellow fat, muscles and tendons, remarkably like a picture out an anatomy textbook. Using glasses with microscopes fitted over the lens, Lin poked through tissue in search of working tendons. She pressed on tendons to determine which would respond to stimuli. Lin tied nerves with blue string as a marker. She found the tendon attached to the index finger and moved it so she could sew it to tendons connected to muscle that fires the middle, ring and pinky fingers. If this procedure worked, Emily would be able to bend her fingers and make a fist. All fingers would move together. Lin pressed on the recently tied tendon and the fingers moved in unison – like a scene from a Frankenstein movie. The thumb was up next. Lin made a small incision near the outside of Emily's wrist and sewed the thumb tendon to another that controls the elbow and wrist. These tendons help the thumb curl into the palm. Ninety minutes into the surgery, the tendons had been fully transferred and the wounds were cauterized to control blood flow. Emily had five new sutures on her arm and a fiberglass cast that prevented her from moving her elbow, wrist or fingers. The had to stay on for at least a month, then Emily would need a splint and light physical therapy. "She's a tough cookie," Maria said when Lin warned them that Emily would be sore following surgery. When Maria and Todd were permitted to see Emily, she was out of it, in pain and angry. She told her parents, again, that she was happy with the way her arm was before. And she demanded a watermelon Popsicle. A nurse suggested cherry. "I don't like cherry," Emily wailed, overreacting in the fog of anesthesia. By 3:15 p.m. that afternoon, the family was back home in Newark. The next day Emily ached, but she refused pain pills. She asked her dad to wear a matching red cast, which he made at home and happily attached to his arm. Emily's cast was scheduled to come off on Sept. 14, so the family snuck away to their cabin in the Poconos for Labor Day. When they returned, school was in full swing. Megan, Emily’s half-sister who was with her when the pit bull attacked, had already begun her senior year at Newark Charter. Megan is considering a career in medicine and has looked at colleges outside of Delaware. But she may choose the University of Delaware because it’s close to home and Philadelphia’s medical schools. Plus, she reasoned, if she chose UD, Emily could occasionally spend the night at her dorm. The sisters have become closer since the attack, and routinely hop between each other’s bedrooms at home. “I know that I did a good job because Emily doesn’t harbor any bad feelings,” Megan said. “Even though I always feel responsible, but I know Emily’s not upset about it.” Neither likes to talk about the attack and they rarely bring it up. So Megan was surprised when, on a late-night drive to Wawa before that final surgery, Emily nonchalantly asked: "Where were we going on that walk before I was attacked by the dog?" The girls have relived bits of the bloody episode through a sister shorthand of musings and sometimes off-hand comments. "That's how I deal with it," said Megan, now 17. "I just talk to Emily. She's really the only one who knows exactly what happened." On Sept. 14, Emily is back on an exam table at CHOP. This time, she’s dressed in her Newark Charter uniform: a light pink polo and tan skort, a skirt with shorts attached. She does not talk about the surgery or the cast. And she clearly does not like the small hand saw a technician used to cut off the cast, which made the room smell like burning glue as layers of gauze are peeled back. The technician fitted Emily with a white sling and sent the family in an elevator to Lin. "I can feel my hand," Emily said as she walked the hall. "I've been waiting so long for this to come off." "You've been waiting four weeks," Maria said in the practiced tone of a parent with a dramatic child. "It's a long time for a kid, mom," Emily countered. Todd has fantasized about this moment. Maybe Emily could play field hockey. Or pursue her dream of riding horses. It would be amazing if she could just grip her iPhone with her right hand. Lin, too, is excited. She cut off the gauze and instructed Emily to bend her fingers. Slowly, deliberately Emily willed the fingers to bend. She also curled her elbow and brought her hand to her face. He thumb curled into her palm, just as the surgeon hoped it would. Maria’s and Todd’s eyes widen and turn glassy. But they don’t cry. They’re proud. Their warrior princess defied odds again. Lin warned them that Emily will have a slow recovery and need to do specific exercises to ensure movement in her hand. Other than the exercises, Lin said, Emily should not use the hand much. The trampoline would be forbidden, Todd immediately warned Emily. Emily slid off the table and walked over to the mirror in Lin's office. She held her arms out in front of her, her hands down by her waist, and compared her arms from different angles. Scars curled like faded henna tattoos from her upper chest to her armpit to a six-inch wave on her forearm. Skin puckers a bit around her right shoulder. But her bulging bicep muscle isn’t as pronounced, and her arms looked almost equal in size. Satisfied, she smiled, then said, "It sort of looks normal again." https://preview.redd.it/n6nagdy9221c1.png?width=697&format=png&auto=webp&s=78a60825cb48d30683f593ae54e029f62ed360e1 |
2023.11.11 07:45 AddisonCoretta The Struggle and Triumph of Buddy Coretta
Today I bid my longtime friend, Buddy, farewell. This X-Large, soft and strikingly handsome boy, a Maine Coon, was almost seventeen. But I do not wish for this post to be purely mourning/loss related, but rather to describe his struggles in youth, his rise to a rehabilitated senior and his final transformation into an indestructible symbol.
His was not an easy life. Though the details are largely unknown to me, a nice older lady had adopted Buddy (as of yet unnamed) for the same reasons I was interested in adopting a new cat -- as a companion for my first cat. She had liberated him from (what I *believe to be*) some kind of crack den.
Unfortunately, her own cat did not take kindly to Buddy, and she began considering re-homing him for the sake of both cats. He arrived in my arms shortly afterwards.We began to notice this was not your average cat. He was as if Jason Bourne, Houdini, Monk and Rainman all got together and invented a cat. His psychological makeup was precarious at best, and he was too smart for his own good but at the same time didn't know when to sit down, shut up and trust his parents.
Afraid of his own shadow, we could not "interact normally" with him. He was acting as if he was always doing something wrong. I've had a lifetime with animals of all kinds -- I know what I'm doing. This boy is just unbelievably complex as an individual. Our first cat did ultimately accept Buddy, but there was some .... odd activity between the two. Think amorous prison stuff. I'm not going any further down that particular memory lane. Things got really weird, but fortunately I have worked from home long before COVID, and thus Buddy always had a human to hide behind.
Through the years, Buddy came to be in my presence far more often than in his youth. Previously, he'd have found the most inaccessible place in my home and planted himself there. But later, he'd start stealing my seat, sitting on my desk and even coming when I had treats. I know to most of you, "so what?" and "yeah, thats what cats do". I agree ... but this is no ordinary cat. This is essentially a Vietnam PoW survivor. He's encountered some serious demons, regardless of the lack of any physical injuries.
As I learned to interact with him, I realized he was very uneasy about me "moving around". If I was sitting at my desk typing, fine. He'd sometimes even get in my lap if the moon and the stars were arranged just right. But getting up to go to the kitchen, reaching for my telephone, even taking my shoes off. BAM. He's gone.
So I devised a kind of hand gesture to get his attention. To let him know I see him and I know he's there. Eye contact is absolutely essential for cats afraid of being trampled accidentally. Giving them a "wide berth" is not sufficient on its own sometimes. But I noticed he personally responded to hand/eye communication quite positively. After some time, I could walk past him in the hallway without any stress for him. I could pick him up out of my lap and put him down so I could get up. I could give him medicine, trim his fur. All of the things we're supposed to do.
As twilight began to approach, I could see senility starting to set in. Strangely, senility seemed to agree with Buddy. He seemed almost stoned at times, so completely and utterly chill ... almost as if he forgot his own phobias. He also began to lose visual acuity and his ears began to fail him. Communication became more difficult. He began running into walls because he couldn't clearly make out what I was doing. He began calling out loudly in a strange way, almost as if he were lost or something. His weight was dropping despite his heavy appetite. He was using the litter box incorrectly (eww). He was starting to slip.
Tonight, I had to let him go peacefully at the vet. But I find myself feeling different about his passing than that of other animals I've been privileged to know. His passing was not sudden, nor tragic nor excruciating. His youth was painful and sad at times, but his recovery and senior years were triumphant. He took a beating at the beginning, but Buddy eventually won at life. I am privileged to have been his mom/orderly/friend.
I'll miss you Buddy. I'll miss your inappropriately hard head-bonks, your plastic fetish, your hot dumpster breath wake-up calls and your odd fascination with my armpits.
Side note:I'll reply with two pictures: one is a very recent photo of Buddy, the other is a drawing I did of a character based on Buddy I hope to use in a FTP game I've been working on for years. The game is ultimately intended to raise money for animal welfare causes and advocates the eradication of all unnecessary animal testing.
EDIT: Guess I can't attach an image.
submitted by AddisonCoretta to Petloss [link] [comments]
His was not an easy life. Though the details are largely unknown to me, a nice older lady had adopted Buddy (as of yet unnamed) for the same reasons I was interested in adopting a new cat -- as a companion for my first cat. She had liberated him from (what I *believe to be*) some kind of crack den.
Unfortunately, her own cat did not take kindly to Buddy, and she began considering re-homing him for the sake of both cats. He arrived in my arms shortly afterwards.We began to notice this was not your average cat. He was as if Jason Bourne, Houdini, Monk and Rainman all got together and invented a cat. His psychological makeup was precarious at best, and he was too smart for his own good but at the same time didn't know when to sit down, shut up and trust his parents.
Afraid of his own shadow, we could not "interact normally" with him. He was acting as if he was always doing something wrong. I've had a lifetime with animals of all kinds -- I know what I'm doing. This boy is just unbelievably complex as an individual. Our first cat did ultimately accept Buddy, but there was some .... odd activity between the two. Think amorous prison stuff. I'm not going any further down that particular memory lane. Things got really weird, but fortunately I have worked from home long before COVID, and thus Buddy always had a human to hide behind.
Through the years, Buddy came to be in my presence far more often than in his youth. Previously, he'd have found the most inaccessible place in my home and planted himself there. But later, he'd start stealing my seat, sitting on my desk and even coming when I had treats. I know to most of you, "so what?" and "yeah, thats what cats do". I agree ... but this is no ordinary cat. This is essentially a Vietnam PoW survivor. He's encountered some serious demons, regardless of the lack of any physical injuries.
As I learned to interact with him, I realized he was very uneasy about me "moving around". If I was sitting at my desk typing, fine. He'd sometimes even get in my lap if the moon and the stars were arranged just right. But getting up to go to the kitchen, reaching for my telephone, even taking my shoes off. BAM. He's gone.
So I devised a kind of hand gesture to get his attention. To let him know I see him and I know he's there. Eye contact is absolutely essential for cats afraid of being trampled accidentally. Giving them a "wide berth" is not sufficient on its own sometimes. But I noticed he personally responded to hand/eye communication quite positively. After some time, I could walk past him in the hallway without any stress for him. I could pick him up out of my lap and put him down so I could get up. I could give him medicine, trim his fur. All of the things we're supposed to do.
As twilight began to approach, I could see senility starting to set in. Strangely, senility seemed to agree with Buddy. He seemed almost stoned at times, so completely and utterly chill ... almost as if he forgot his own phobias. He also began to lose visual acuity and his ears began to fail him. Communication became more difficult. He began running into walls because he couldn't clearly make out what I was doing. He began calling out loudly in a strange way, almost as if he were lost or something. His weight was dropping despite his heavy appetite. He was using the litter box incorrectly (eww). He was starting to slip.
Tonight, I had to let him go peacefully at the vet. But I find myself feeling different about his passing than that of other animals I've been privileged to know. His passing was not sudden, nor tragic nor excruciating. His youth was painful and sad at times, but his recovery and senior years were triumphant. He took a beating at the beginning, but Buddy eventually won at life. I am privileged to have been his mom/orderly/friend.
I'll miss you Buddy. I'll miss your inappropriately hard head-bonks, your plastic fetish, your hot dumpster breath wake-up calls and your odd fascination with my armpits.
Side note:
EDIT: Guess I can't attach an image.
2023.11.08 16:10 morrrrgana My first time at home abortion experience at 6 weeks
I wanted to come on here and share my experience as other ladies have done. Found out I was pregnant for the first time at 29 yo a couple week's ago. Even early on, I was experiencing symptoms such as excessive thirst, drier skin, headaches, not sleeping well, and peeing more often. I originally booked an appointment with planned parenthood but after looking into what it might cost- upwards of almost $700 not including the price of the appointment which would have added another $120 minimum, I found the Abuzz website and ordered the pills off there which was super affordable. They approved my request within a day and the pills arrived to my mailbox in 2-3 days.
Sunday 11/5: I was 6 weeks at this point. Around 4pm, I took the mifepristone. I continued about my day as normal and luckily felt no side effects. I originally wanted to do the misoprostol the same day because I was incredibly anxious to just get it over with, but I reached out to Abuzz and they didn't recommend it and said waiting 24-48 hours would be the most effective.
Monday 11/6: My stomach felt a little bit nauseous, unsure if it was from the mifepristone or nerves. I ate breakfast anyway and felt fine. As the day goes on, I feel increasingly anxious for what's about to come but I keep trying to remind myself that worrying about it is not helpful and what's going to happen is going to happen regardless. Around 3pm, even though I'm not hungry, I force myself to eat so that I can take ibuprofen. I prepare to go through the abortion process by putting a large folded comforter on the floor of the bathroom just in case and put Huggies sensitive-care wipes on top of the toilet along with U by Kotex maxi pads (ended up being perfect size).
4:20: I took a bunch of ibuprofen and took a shower.
4:57: Took 4 misoprostol vaginally and made sure I was all set up on the couch with a big bottle of water, blankets and my heating pad which I bought from amazon for less than $20. The brand is VALGELUIK and it worked perfectly. I laid down on the couch with my boyfriend and put on love is blind.
5:30ish: I start to experience some very mild, super tolerable cramping so my boyfriend rolled us a joint and we smoked it.
Around 7:00: Cramps start to intensify but still super tolerable. I also start to get these small cramps that come and go in my vagina- also tolerable.
7:15: Cramps start to intensify to pretty painful and uncomfortable. I believe I felt some blood at this point. Not long after, I move to the bathroom and tell my boyfriend I'll text him if I need him. I sit on the toilet and put some meditation type music on my bathroom Alexa.
7:30: I have to poop and then I start getting more intense cramps and start passing more blood into the toilet. Not long after, I start feeling super nauseated to the point where I start sweating and start to feel dizzy. I lay down sideways on the comforter I set up on the bathroom floor (super glad I did this). Shortly after, I throw up and feel a little better nausea-wise but still having super painful cramps. They are what I imagine contractions feel like.
8:15: I'm still in pain but I build up the strength to move back to the couch. I sit up, slightly reclined on the couch and my boyfriend puts on a movie to try to distract from the pain. The cramps come and go- same strong, painful, contraction-like intensity for about three hours I'd say. Using the heating pad, rubbing my tummy, taking deep breaths and shaking my foot helped take my mind off the pain a bit. I was able to eat some candy and a piece of toast because I was hungry, but when the cramps would come back it would take the hunger away immediately, so I ate when the cramps temporarily disappeared. I took 25 mg of an edible at some point also. I remember getting a headache after leaving the bathroom, must have been from throwing up so I made sure to keep drinking water and used LMNT raspberry electrolytes (which are SO good by the way).
11:00: Feeling like the cramps are starting to get a little less intense, we go to bed. I put two pillows on top of each other to lay at a slight upward angle because I was still bleeding a lot. I fell asleep pretty quickly. Woke up around 2:45 to change my pad (lots of blood) and changed. Went back to bed, woke up once more to change pad and officially woke up around 10 am.
After waking up, I felt okay. Barely any cramping, stomach felt maybe slightly uneasy and I still had a headache. I ate and drank water and more electrolytes and I felt fine throughout the day. My boobs are still sore and I also noticed both my armpits smelled like bad BO which is probably the hormones going crazy and not being detoxed as they should so I took some schisandra and did an armpit charcoal mask. Still have the bad pregnancy breakouts which I hope will go away soon. It is currently day two after the abortion and I'm still bleeding a good amount but I feel pretty good and definitely relieved. My boyfriend and I will probably be using condoms for a few weeks when we become intimate again as I don't take any form of birth control. Taking this as a learning experience to not be so careless in the future because sometimes in the heat of the moment, we make silly decisions that can lead to unpleasant situations like this. But I'm grateful to be okay and healthy and have access to abortion. Hoping the best for all you ladies out there having to go through this; past, present and future.
submitted by morrrrgana to abortion [link] [comments]
Sunday 11/5: I was 6 weeks at this point. Around 4pm, I took the mifepristone. I continued about my day as normal and luckily felt no side effects. I originally wanted to do the misoprostol the same day because I was incredibly anxious to just get it over with, but I reached out to Abuzz and they didn't recommend it and said waiting 24-48 hours would be the most effective.
Monday 11/6: My stomach felt a little bit nauseous, unsure if it was from the mifepristone or nerves. I ate breakfast anyway and felt fine. As the day goes on, I feel increasingly anxious for what's about to come but I keep trying to remind myself that worrying about it is not helpful and what's going to happen is going to happen regardless. Around 3pm, even though I'm not hungry, I force myself to eat so that I can take ibuprofen. I prepare to go through the abortion process by putting a large folded comforter on the floor of the bathroom just in case and put Huggies sensitive-care wipes on top of the toilet along with U by Kotex maxi pads (ended up being perfect size).
4:20: I took a bunch of ibuprofen and took a shower.
4:57: Took 4 misoprostol vaginally and made sure I was all set up on the couch with a big bottle of water, blankets and my heating pad which I bought from amazon for less than $20. The brand is VALGELUIK and it worked perfectly. I laid down on the couch with my boyfriend and put on love is blind.
5:30ish: I start to experience some very mild, super tolerable cramping so my boyfriend rolled us a joint and we smoked it.
Around 7:00: Cramps start to intensify but still super tolerable. I also start to get these small cramps that come and go in my vagina- also tolerable.
7:15: Cramps start to intensify to pretty painful and uncomfortable. I believe I felt some blood at this point. Not long after, I move to the bathroom and tell my boyfriend I'll text him if I need him. I sit on the toilet and put some meditation type music on my bathroom Alexa.
7:30: I have to poop and then I start getting more intense cramps and start passing more blood into the toilet. Not long after, I start feeling super nauseated to the point where I start sweating and start to feel dizzy. I lay down sideways on the comforter I set up on the bathroom floor (super glad I did this). Shortly after, I throw up and feel a little better nausea-wise but still having super painful cramps. They are what I imagine contractions feel like.
8:15: I'm still in pain but I build up the strength to move back to the couch. I sit up, slightly reclined on the couch and my boyfriend puts on a movie to try to distract from the pain. The cramps come and go- same strong, painful, contraction-like intensity for about three hours I'd say. Using the heating pad, rubbing my tummy, taking deep breaths and shaking my foot helped take my mind off the pain a bit. I was able to eat some candy and a piece of toast because I was hungry, but when the cramps would come back it would take the hunger away immediately, so I ate when the cramps temporarily disappeared. I took 25 mg of an edible at some point also. I remember getting a headache after leaving the bathroom, must have been from throwing up so I made sure to keep drinking water and used LMNT raspberry electrolytes (which are SO good by the way).
11:00: Feeling like the cramps are starting to get a little less intense, we go to bed. I put two pillows on top of each other to lay at a slight upward angle because I was still bleeding a lot. I fell asleep pretty quickly. Woke up around 2:45 to change my pad (lots of blood) and changed. Went back to bed, woke up once more to change pad and officially woke up around 10 am.
After waking up, I felt okay. Barely any cramping, stomach felt maybe slightly uneasy and I still had a headache. I ate and drank water and more electrolytes and I felt fine throughout the day. My boobs are still sore and I also noticed both my armpits smelled like bad BO which is probably the hormones going crazy and not being detoxed as they should so I took some schisandra and did an armpit charcoal mask. Still have the bad pregnancy breakouts which I hope will go away soon. It is currently day two after the abortion and I'm still bleeding a good amount but I feel pretty good and definitely relieved. My boyfriend and I will probably be using condoms for a few weeks when we become intimate again as I don't take any form of birth control. Taking this as a learning experience to not be so careless in the future because sometimes in the heat of the moment, we make silly decisions that can lead to unpleasant situations like this. But I'm grateful to be okay and healthy and have access to abortion. Hoping the best for all you ladies out there having to go through this; past, present and future.