Paper mill grill

I have never done this before but I needed to voice this one way or another. I needed away to vent my forever growing frustration in a 2024 manner. Cause calling it onto the local paper is doing shit right now. Kind of like my meme coin pics in Crypto.
I will start off by saying they have a very difficult job and our society is judging them harder than ever right now but I still and will always have love for our state, local, city PD or whomever wakes daily to pin that badge to their chest. It takes a extreme amount of courage to do that job day in and day out.
But when a non tax paying citizen(kidding I approaches a police officer in his SUV to say hey these two individuals over there are doing some type of science project with reynolds wrap foil squares and lighters. And frankly it smells like shit. I lived in my area my entire life and enough is enough with these drugs or they call them "golden trails" "blues" or "Fenty pills" Fenty powder or what ever its called. Yes I know I know Im hip and with the times bitches. The police officer looked at me and he said "thanks for the heads up we will get on it right away". I proceeded to pull away and i could hear his suv go back into park. What is that all about they are certainly not writing tickets cause just outside my neighborhood every friday and saturday is drag racing from midnight til around 3am.
So I flipped a bitch to see what had taken place and he was still in the same spot chillin amd there goes the scientists with there foil and their faces are being lite up by a small flame "Bic lighter" driving away. I wish that i would have invested into Reynolds wrap when this pandemic started. Near my house its always sold out. I cant even have a proper BBQ with friends our i the grill cause i git no damn foil. So i look like a pussy when we are all hanging out on the deck when i bring out the FORMAN. Its not a porper BBQ with a fucking Forman heating up. I make sure ti say ti the friends "its done with the red light goes off dummy".
I just want my neighborhood to go back to they it was 10 yrs ago. All even settle for 5. A mere 5 years is all I am asking for and keep that "blues" away from my fucking kids and grand kids!
So say what you want, i just wanted to vent some.
Thanks
How do you feel when you see a crime?
Would you even approach the SUV?
Whats keeping you from taking action?
Enough is enough, right?
?

I have never done this before but I needed to voice this one way or another. I needed away to vent my forever growing frustration in a 2024 manner. Cause calling it onto the local paper is doing shit right now. Kind of like my meme coin pics in Crypto.
I will start off by saying they have a very difficult job and our society is judging them harder than ever right now but I still and will always have love for our state, local, city PD or whomever wakes daily to pin that badge to their chest. It takes a extreme amount of courage to do that job day in and day out.
But when a non tax paying citizen(kidding I approaches a police officer in his SUV to say hey these two individuals over there are doing some type of science project with reynolds wrap foil squares and lighters. And frankly it smells like shit. I lived in my area my entire life and enough is enough with these drugs or they call them "golden trails" "blues" or "Fenty pills" Fenty powder or what ever its called. Yes I know I know Im hip and with the times bitches. The police officer looked at me and he said "thanks for the heads up we will get on it right away". I proceeded to pull away and i could hear his suv go back into park. What is that all about they are certainly not writing tickets cause just outside my neighborhood every friday and saturday is drag racing from midnight til around 3am.
So I flipped a bitch to see what had taken place and he was still in the same spot chillin amd there goes the scientists with there foil and their faces are being lite up by a small flame "Bic lighter" driving away. I wish that i would have invested into Reynolds wrap when this pandemic started. Near my house its always sold out. I cant even have a proper BBQ with friends our i the grill cause i git no damn foil. So i look like a pussy when we are all hanging out on the deck when i bring out the FORMAN. Its not a porper BBQ with a fucking Forman heating up. I make sure ti say ti the friends "its done with the red light goes off dummy".
I just want my neighborhood to go back to they it was 10 yrs ago. All even settle for 5. A mere 5 years is all I am asking for and keep that "blues" away from my fucking kids and grand kids!
So say what you want, i just wanted to vent some.
Thanks
How do you feel when you see a crime?
Would you even approach the SUV?
Whats keeping you from taking action?
Enough is enough, right?

You ever met a rich crackhead chick who’s parents bought her and her heroin addicted boyfriend a whole house, a new car, monthly allowance and seen it all come crashing down? This sounds like a fantasy, but it’s actually reality in the streets of Montgomery County, MD. This is the life of a rich crackhead named Amy.
Before I tell you about Amy, we gotta get the background first and go all the way back to 2021(if you want to skip and get right to Amy, just go to paragraph 11/12, but you’ll miss out on a lot). It’s the year 2021, I had just came back a couple months ago from pulling off EDD fraud. One day I was driving drop top mustangs in Malibu, the next I’m seeing my accounts get frozen and my money slowly begin to dwindle down. Before I knew it I was back in DC, broke and back to square one. Now from the time I was in Cali to the time I returned a lot of shit happened. I fell off with a lot of people, so I found myself hanging around an unusual crowd of people, the Bethesda kids.
You see before I dropped out of Towson University, I had met this nigga named LP, he was from Bowie and he went to school out Bethesda, but me and him got along because we had two things in common: we both liked DMV music, and we both liked to party our asses tf off. But that’s a story for another day.
You see LP put me on to a lot of people from Bathesda, I had never really hung around white folks before, and with the connections he gave me i made friends with a couple of crackas and even met my now deceased ex girlfriend. I was going to the craziest white functions and constantly turning up. But I saw more than a chance to have fun, saw this as a money making opportunity🤑 cha ching! And it was through LP that I met some friends who introduced me to a nigga named Swervy.
You see them white folks love to drink beer and smoke weed at parks, so one day I’m meeting up wit one of my good men, Ju. Ju is the typical school shooter typa fella, so it’s no surprise what I saw when I linked up with him at the spot. With him was this long haired European foreign exchange motherfucker whose name I forgot, and this bearded Eastern European nigga named Swervy, and he was wildin the fuck out. Mind you I’m from the projects, and all these bathesda niggas I’m meeting are rich ass motherfuckers who live in multi million dollar mansions. Keep in mind these cats may be rich, but everybody out bathesda is rich so these are basically the rejects. Pretty much the closest thing to a street nigga you can find out there.
As I’m getting introduced to some of these cats, Swervy pulls out a syringe. So I ask “Man wtf is this man doing,” “He’s shooting up fent” casually says Ju. That was the first time I ever witnessed someone shooting up a drug, and it wouldn’t be the last. Swervy would eventually become Amy’s boyfriend. And he was quite the yapper, he’s one of those motherfuckers who peaked in high school, and now he’s just watching his life come spiraling down, at least that is until he meets Amy…
In this meet up I learn a lot about Swervy. He was basically a kingpin at the age of 16-17. He would get shipments of 10’s of thousands of Xanax bars and sell them like hotdogs at a baseball game. These weren’t your regular junkies, these are the children of senators, buisness owners and lawyers. So you didn’t have to worry about a junkie saying he’ll pay you back, money was nothing to these crazy ass white folks. In the midst of all this yapping, I hear something that caught my attention.
“Yea so basically my cousins got like seven pounds of weed and 500gs of thc wax that they’ll give me if I can pick it up, it’s all the way in Arizona” Says Swervy.
🤑🤑🤑Cha mothafucking ching! This was the money I was talking about. Now driving cross country with pounds of weed and concentrate was risky, but shit I’d give my left nutsack for that kind of opportunity. And I might as well have, because a week later I was on my way to Tucson, with this Russian speaking drug addict I had just met the other day. Mind you I’m driving around in a red Lancer, with paper Vermont tags that I had printed online. I might as well Have went up to the police station and asked any of them if they wanted to buy drugs. My young naive dumbass didn’t realize the risk, all I was thinking about was 🤑🤑🤑 cha Ching!
I can sit here all day and tell you about that drive to Arizona, but imma keep it short and simple so we can get to this Amy chick. It was a fucking disaster, but we end up somehow making it back. We got the pounds and the concentrate, but it was all fucking shake! I’d be lucky to sell that shit for $100 a zip. Anyways, the trip opened my eyes to something, this nigga Swervy was a crashout crackhead dummy, and if I continue hanging out with him I was gonna end up dead or in jail. So I begin distancing myself, as I watched this man throw his life away from a far.
Now months go by, and at this point I’m like the street life ain’t for me and I’m working a job, I got a girlfriend and I’m staying low and just cooling it, with these pounds of weed that was so garbage, I was giving it away like charity donations. I had that goodwill pack! Just as things settle down that’s when Swervy comes back in contact with me. You see last time I had linked him, this man was overdosing off fent and we had to drive him to the hospital and save his life. But to my surprise, he was a changed man, or at least that’s what I thought...
He now has this girlfriend and he lives with her in germantown. You see me I’m baffled and curious, what crazy bitch would date this crazy motherfucker who’d probably sell his soul for one shot of heroin? I just had to find out. And when I met Amy I just didn’t know what to say. She was in her 30s and Swervy and me were in our early twenties. Amy was this slim, blonde hair, blue eyed Czechoslovakian chick who stood at about 5’7”. She wasn’t attractive by no means, you can tell the drugs did it’s toll on her, but if you’re drunk enough she can probably look fuckable. She had her degree in psychology from UMBC, but don’t be fooled her brain seemed like it was long fried. A conversation with her felt like a trip to the mental asylum. You will have better luck deciphering ancient Egyptian hyrogriphics before you can make sense of a word she says. Regardless I genuinely tried to get to know her. My guess was at some point in life she must’ve took a full sheet of acid and never recovered since. But she had her own two bedroom condo with a view of Sugarloaf mountain, a Pomeranian dog(which Swervy fucking hated), and a new jeep. So regardless I was impressed this crackhead motherfucker managed to bag her. So I asked him “Where did you find this shawty?” “At a hookah lounge in Rockville” he told me. That’s right folks, a fucking hookah lounge. Boi when I tell you after that, I was hitting up hookah spots like I had season tickets!
So I’m hanging out with them a lot now basically third wheeling, but Germantown was a long ass motherfucking drive, and I lived at the borderline to DC so I would even spend some nights in their guest bedroom. This Amy chick had parents that paid for her gas money and food, they had a fireplace and a balcony. And I can enjoy the comfort of all this as long as I occasionally bring some weed to smoke. And me I’m not one of those leeching ass bums, so the only time I’m hanging out with them is when I’m invited. And I got invited a lot, probably because Amy’s a bit cuukoo and Swervy had either robbed or scared off all his friends from Bathesda. He wanted someone to give him a break from her, a bro he can drink a beer with. So I would often times accompany them. One time we were at Buffalo Wild Wings, and as I sit across from both of them Amy begins playing footsies with me under the table. Of course I play it cool. I had no interest in her, mainly because Swervy hits raw and takes hepatitis medication, also having witnessed this man hold a bunch of homeless niggas at gunpoint in broad day light after I lost my phone at this gas station in Arizona. I can only imagine how he would react if he found out I smashed his girl.
A lot of the times I hung out with them, me and Swervy would talk about Amy. You see he’s not the type to hold back certain information, and as he’s telling me about his life and relationship that’s when it hit me. A nigga like me grew up all my life, with the world constantly kicking my ass and in a whole different realm of this life shit, you got these two rich kids who fucked up their life so much with so little consequences it became a culture shock to me. Me I caught a case and felt like my life was over, these two white people are disfunctional jobless drug addicts and they’re living the life I could only dream of having with years of hard work. I began to question the world, how many are there like this? Was my life a joke? I didn’t know where I was going hanging out with them, but if I couldn’t live the good life, I could at least witness it from the front row. I learned one thing about their relationship, Amy was basically getting old and low on options, and her parents supported her. Why? Because she’s not running around getting dicked down by a bunch of drug dealing black men anymore. Here they see this young white man, who’s also Eastern European who makes their highly mentally damaged daughter feel secure. And Swervy could win an Oscar, I mean what a fucking performance! One second he goes from Angus Cloud on Euphoria, the next a good suburban white kid the second he meets her parents. In fact he had convinced them that he was such a good man, even went to family gatherings and all, that they decided, let’s just buy them a full blown house.
That’s right, a FULL FUCKING HOUSE. I’m talking about a three story townhouse in Germantown, with a fully furnished basement, a patio, a balcony, a grill, 4 bedrooms, a 70 inch television, a paid off brand new fully insured jeep, they’re talking about trips to Italy. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Fool, are we living in a simulation? I couldn’t fucking believe my eyes, Swervy had pulled off the ultimate finesse. He convinced this rich family that he was the one for their daughter. And the most hilarious thing about it is that he was no better than a crackhead heroin junkie you can find panhandling for money on the street. I couldn’t even be envious, no instead I had felt something inside of me, this sort of toxic motivation. I learned that you didn’t have to work hard in this life, you didn’t have to earn your living, no instead one day God can just drop this lonely damaged woman who’s family is fucking loaded right on your fucking lap. He was even talking about marrying her and having her kids. In fact he tried, but see he had a problem. His sailors couldn’t fucking swim. Maybe it was all the crack, cocaine and heroine. He was having trouble producing fertile sperm, and Amy was running out of time! And that was the peak of their relationship. He was this close to closing the deal, but when it was game time he fell short. All it is now is one of those memories in your head that’ll have you like “damn, what if…” almost like when you reminisce on a football game thinking about how things could’ve been different if that one play went right.
Look I’ll be honest, I sugarcoated a lot of things. They may have lived in a world of handouts, but that relationship was more toxic than a nuclear wasteland. There’s a lot of fucked up details that I’m choosing to leave out, the psychical and mental abuse from both sides, the drug use. He was a psychopath and she was controlling and halfway demented. There’s a saying “opposites attract” and these two motherfuckers were far from it. They were two trains headed on a full on collision, so it was only a matter of time before disaster struck, and boy did it strike. Within a year I had witnessed a once fun relationship, become episodes of Shameless. At one point we fell off, I don’t remember exactly why, probably because I was tired of constantly being involved in their nasty games, and once again I distanced myself from Swervy.
The last I heard of Amy, she had kicked Swervy out the house and he caught her giving the sloppy toppy at a local park to 3 guys. Some hoodlum niggas, and a skater dude with a face tatt. The last time I seen Swervy he was arms dealing and one day pulled out an AR-15 on me and threatened to shoot me. I heard he’s now locked up currently awaiting trial because he broke into her home. I have a feeling one day I’ll see him on the news with a crazy headline.
Anyways if you’re a real mothafucka, you made it all the way here. If you read the whole thing I hope you enjoyed the story, if you have any questions ask away. If you didn’t feel like reading all that shit then fuck you bitch!

Someone shared this on another group. If You have more recommendations keep adding to the list
100 Must Eat Delicacies in Mangalore : 😋😋

1. Kingfish, Seerfish Masala Fry. (Giri Manja's, Lower Car street)
   
2. Crab Ghee Roast, Kane Masala Fry, Pachile Ghee Roast ( Shetty Lunch Home, Balmatta )
   
3. Pomfret Tawa Fry , Fish thali, squid Ghee Roast (Machali, Behind Ocean Pearl)
   
4. Gudbud, Parfait, Tiramisu, Chocolate Dad. (Pabbas, Ideal Ice Creams, MG road)
   
5. Tender Coconut and Malai Ice cream (Naturals Ice Cream, Mannagudda)
   
6. Sizzling Pepper Chicken Sizzler, Chicken Dip Chilli. (Chefs Mannagudda)
   
7. Special Andhra Style Biryani, Chicken Leg Roast. Spicy Andhra Meals. (Andhra House. Bejai)
   
8. Unlimited Gujarati Meal. (Gujrati hotel. Bhavanti Street)
   
9. King Fish Pudi Tawa, Lady fish Fry. (Narayan Hotel. Bunder)
   
10. Chinese Bhel Puri, Sev Puri (Outside Swimming Pool)
    
11. Mutton Biryani, Chicken Dry Fry, Bheja Fry (Bombay Lucky , Bunder Road)
    
12. Goli Baje, Puri Kurma (Hotel Woodlands, Bunts hostel)
    
13. Chicken Uruval, Chicken Green roast (Hotel Maya International)
    
14. Chicken Kheema Rice, Chicken Nuggets, Chicken Thai Curry Rice (Froth on top, Balmatta)
    
15. Chicken Dum Biryani, Tangdi Kabab (Hotel Diners Paradise)
    
16. Dragon Rice, Chicken Thai Fry (Rai's Hot dragon Kadri)
    
17. Nati Chicken Sukka, (Hotel Ramabhavan , near Mangalore club )
    
18. Boiled Charmuri, Sev puri (Seetanna's, Lighthouse hill)
    
19. Kori rotti, Nati Kori curry (Kori Rotti, MG road)
    
20. Samosa, Bread Sandwich Pakoda ( Juice Junction, Balmatta)
    
21. Chicken Kabab, Mutton Boaty (Sundaranna, Mannagudda)
    
22. Cheese Sandwich, Plain Sandwich (Opposite Easyday attavar)
    
23. Tuppa Dosa, Rotti Chutney, Idli Tove, Filter Coffee (Taj Mahal Cafe, Navbharath circle)
    
24. Some like it hot (Chocolate Ice cream with cake). (Cherry square, Balmatta)
    
25. Charmuri, Raja Special (Kamath Condiments, Car street)
    
26. Spicy Chicken Shwarma (Danish, Light house hill)
    
27. Chicken Rottessirie, full grill (Pop Tate's, Balmatta)
    
28. Butter Nan, Paneer Butter Masala, Lassi (Bittu da dabha)
    
29. Rasam Vada, Spring Onion dosa (Janatha Deluxe, Pathmudi)
    
30. Egg Chilli, Egg Omlet, Boiled Charmuri ( Forum Fiza Mall, Entrance)
    
31. Masala Pav, Special Soft ice cream (Hangyo saibin complex )
    
32. Veg sandwich and cheese sandwich ( saibeen complex basement)
    
33. Chicken Satay, Peking chicken dry, Shin Min Rice (Hao Ming)
    
34. Triple Schezwan Fried Rice with Bulls eye topping (Amazon, Empire)
    
35. Maddur Vada ( Hotel Durgaprasad, Urva Market)
    
36. Lady fish(Kane fry) GSB style fish curries ( Opposite CV Nayak Hall, Bunts Hostel)
    
37. Bajil, Sajjige. Sheera (Hotel Indrabhavan, Balmatta)
    
38. Special Charmuri, Chakkuli Masala (Sukrundo's near School book company, Car street)
    
39. Bhel Puri, Chole Samosa, Jelebi (Krishna Bhel Puri, Market road)
    
40. Masala Dosa, Bisi Bele bath. Khara bhat (Vasudev Adigas, forum)
    
41. Macarons, Ragi biscuits. (City Bakery, Hampankatta)
    
42. Biscuit Rotti, Cabbage Bonda, Buns (Balli's, Car street)
    
43. Ghee Roast rice, Fusili pasta with Chicken and Mushroom (Liquid Lounge)
    
44. Matka Biryani (Biryani Paradise, Near city hospital)
    
45. Full Meat Shwarma, Grilled Chicken (Juice romantic)
    
46. Prawns/ Bondas Pepper fry (Fooodlands MG road)
    
47. Chicken Butter Garlic, Chicken Tawa fry (Wine Gate)
    
48. Paneer Ghee Roast, Hara Bara Kabab (Chutney, Deepa comforts)
    
49. Chicken Lollypop ,Anjal Puli Munchi with Appam (Simbly South, Balmatta)
    

50.Set Dosa, Chikku Sheera, Mushroom Biryani (Anmol, Bejai)

1. Egg cheese toast (Mangalore club)
   
2. Bonda Shake (Below guthu restaurant, Falnir)
   
3. Paper Masala Dosa, Paneer Pepper, Floating Grape Juice (Dinky Dine)
   
4. Sizzling Special Spinach, Oreo shake (Pallkhi)
   
5. Kerala Paratha, Chicken wet Gravy. Murgh Lajawab (Chicken Tikka Halal)
   
6. Pista and badam Milk (Rajalaxmi chat, Car street)
   
7. Grape Jelebi, Mastani Flooda ( hotel ayodhya)
   
8. Ladyfish Tawa fry (Hotel Anupam)
   
9. Gobi Manchurian, Mix Veg Fried Rice (Nandini Veg fast food, Car street)
   
10. Buns, Puri Bhaji (3-5 am) Mobile Canteen (infront of KMC hospital, Jyothi)
    
11. Jolada Rotti. Ragi rotti and North Karnataka style curry ( Near Vinayaka book house, mannagudda)
    
12. Pahadi Chicken, Chicken Junglee (Cellar Restaurant)
    
13. KFC Chicken Burger (Prax, near Arya Samaj Road)
    
14. Plain Dosa, Goli Baje, Tea (Vishwa Bhavan, Balmatta)
    
15. Omelette Chilli (Coconut Groove)
    
16. Chocolate Pizza, Crab meat soup, Lemon Tea (Trattoria)
    
17. Mixed Fruit Juice, Watermelon Juice, (Vinay Juice Centre, Near City Centre)
    
18. Pure Veg Udupi Veg Meals, (Rama Hotel, Near PVS)
    
19. Jain Style Meals without onion and garlic (Jain Restaurant, near state bank bus stop)
    
20. Veg Paneer Roll, Champakali (Ramdev sweets, Near City Centre)
    
21. Reasonable Veg North Indian Mini Thali (Janath deluxe, Behind Shaan plaza, Near City Centre)
    
22. Egg Uruval, Egg Friend Rice (Suvarna, Mannagudda)
    
23. Babycorn Deep fry. Fried chillies (Kusum Foods, Lower car street)
    
24. Chicken Reshmi Kabab, Hyderabadi Dum Biryani (Spicy) - (Hotel Suraj international, Suratkal)
    
25. Egg Omelette (S.R Bhandary, Mannagudda)
    
26. Spicy Chicken Special Roll ( Mother's Kitchen, Night home delivery)
    
27. Tuppa Dosa, Rimjim 3 layered coffee, (Hotel Karthik, Kottara)
    
28. Chocolate Brownie, Red Velvet Cake (Crave ,Balmatta)
    
29. Veg Burger, Veg Pizza (Reasonable prices) (Hangyo outlet MG road)
    
30. Chicken Tawa fry, Chicken Special Biryani (Red Rock, Suratkal)
    
31. Wimto, Lime Soda, Flavoured Soda's (Next to SVT, Car street)
    
32. Mini Veg Puffs, Saturday Special (Vignesh Bakery, Mannagudda)
    
33. Jalapeño Cheese Balls, Vegetable Sizzler (Sizzler Ranch)
    
34. Pancakes, Sunny Side up, Chicken Sausages for breakfast (Diesel Cafe)
    
35. Almond Rock, Pista kulfi, Rose Bites (Tiny Delights, Home delivery, Kadri)
    
36. Chicken Biryani. Egg curry (Mookambika, Urva Market)
    
37. Samosa Chat (Rasadhara, Opposite Canara urva)
    
38. Orange and Pineapple Traditional Goli Soda (Ram Stores, Mannagudda)
    
39. Double Decker Burger, Xinlai dragon rice, Chicken Kwathiyo and Footlongs (Chefs Xinlai)
    
40. Chicken Kalmi Kabab (New Kudla, Urva Market)
    
41. Veg Cutlet. Paneer Ghee Roast, Sandwich Combo (Ideal Cafe, Hampankatta)
    
42. Mini Jelebi, Murgh/Rogan Ghosth, Mini Punjab's pind.
    
43. Hot Crispy Buns, Neer Dosa and chutney (Midnight canteen, Right ahead of Railway station entrance. hampankatta)
    
44. Dali Tove. Chicken Ghee Roast, Boiled rice (Hotel Maharaja)
    
45. Crispy Chicken, Chicken Lollypop (Kavita Residency)
    
46. Veg and Nonveg Kolkata Rolls (Smackie, Near Kottara Flyover)
    
47. Ghee Roast, chicken, Prawn, squid , Paneer Anupam Shetty Lunch Home Balmatta )
    
48. Garlic Chicken, Chicken Chilli dry (Highwave SLK)
    
49. Bun Butter Lays (Railways Station canteen, State bank)
    
50. Disco Fish Tawa Fry (New Abhishek, Kottara)
    

Duplication-Norm

Will take caps untill hit max cap.
List of plans:
-Brahmin Grill (3 pcs)
-Bloody Rug (3 pcs)
-Bloody Curtain Door
-Blue Devil Plushie
-Cattle Flour Billboards (2 pcs)
-Cave cricket tube
-Chally The Moo-Moo Backpack
-Chally The Moo-Moo Mask
-Enlightened lantern
-Fossilized Megalonyx LA (4 pcs)
-Fossilized Megalonyx RL
-Fuzzy Enlightened Plushie
-Grocery Cart Grill (3 pcs)
-Gulper Rug
-Honeycomb Paper Blue Mothman
-Honeycomb Paper Green Mothman (2 pcs)
-Meat Bag Stash Box
-Megalonyx Display Rack (2 pcs)
-Nuka Shank Knife (2 pcs)
-Ogua Hunter Outfit
-Paddock Gate
-Pink Brahmin Plushie
-Peppino Pig Plushie
-Plastic Fruit Wreath
-Plastic Fruit Bowl (2 pcs)
-Pepper Shaker Plan (2 pcs)
-Punty Pig Plushie
-Rib Plushie (2 pcs)
-Rotted Rib Plushie
-Rotted Steak Plushie
-Salty Tenderizer Mod (2 pcs)
-Steak Plushie
-Spicy Tenderizer Mod (3 pcs)
-Super Mutant Tube
-Swarm Of Flies (2 pcs)
-Taxidermy Mutant Hound (3 pcs)
-Travelers Wagon (2 pcs)
-Wilber McPigg Plushie (3 pcs)
➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕➕
CRAFTED READY (in vendor so ask if i have it)
-Fossilized Megalonyx LL
-Fossilized Megalonyx RA
-Fossilized Megalonyx RL
-Fossilized Megalonyx Skull
-Fossilized Megalonyx Torso

So.. I would like to give my thoughts on how to make them feel like more intentional classes-- after all, these two roles feel like they are particularly falling behind (with specific exceptions, admittedly, like with Boothill) within their role as unique classes/identities; especially when compared to Destruction units-- who are often easier to play for a myriad of reasons.
Before I talk about my ideas, I'd like to first say:

1. Yeah, yeah; Hoyo doesn't like making changes. My hope is: instead of asking for reworks to old characters, asking for reworks to overarching systems, which will indirectly buff old characters.
2. No. My idea isn't just for these roles to "deal more damage".
3. Everything between asterisks * is me explaining my reasoning; if you just wanna see the ideas with no context, feel free to skip the texts between.
4. Numbers listed are not gospel. I'm no mathematician.

Hot take: Damage is the most power-creepable thing. You want your favorite character to speedrun obsolescence? Make their entire kit revolve around nothing but mass deeps.
So! What's the real issue behind why Hunt and Erudition feel bad? Let's be blunt: It's Destruction.. (and to a lesser degree Nihility). But why? It's cause it does too much right:
Destruction is characterized by:

1. Survivability
2. High damage
3. AoE

Meanwhile Hunt is characterized by:

1. Single target

And Erudition by:

1. AoE

**As we can see, they are all DAMAGE roles, but, the identity of Destruction is more like that of a off-tank that deals more damage than Erudition, and hits more targets than Hunt.. and also often deal more damage.**
**So I spent a lot of time thinking about what Destruction's role/identity should be in the game, and if/how we should pair it down in order to fit the outline of classes as Hoyo has given us.. but.. that got me into a lot of debates with people I know (irl) who are DIEHARD fans of the fantasy Destruction is trying to push.. so I started asking a different question: What should these other classes do differently? Then I thought about bending the fundamental rules of the game in favor of these other classes.**
Let's start with Hunt:
**Hunt's single target nature is an inherent weakness.. but in game-design terms, that means there is powered freed up here to put somewhere else in the class's kit. Most people would rightly assume this means the class just hits a single target.. harder(?) but in Star Rail? Yesn't. Hunt characters hit hard, but they usually aren't THEE top dps for long.. and they don't really DWARF the other roles in terms of single-target dps either. And really? That's okay. As I said above: A damage dealer is only good as long as another character doesn't do more damage-- and powercreep will happen inevitably, so damage should be treated as a given, instead of the metric a unit's primary value comes from; it's how a unit deals damage that matters.**
Give Hunt units these UNIVERSAL benefits:

1. Basic attacks now deal 200% (220%) of ATK (or applicable stat), and deals very high toughness damage, AND/OR are granted generous bonus effects as a trade-off for Hunt character's inherent single-target nature.
2. Alacrity: All Hunt units now have a base SPD of 120, and cannot be debuffed below this number by any means. Basic attacks now inherently action advance this unit forward by 10%.

Why? SP generation.
**These changes would carve out a niche, and make Hunt characters a flexible sub-dps pick that constantly take turns to perform a strong basic attack that feeds more SP hungry units, and effectively makes them faster when the generate SP. This gives a new mechanic by which Hoyo can design future units around, effectively increasing the chances that old units get buffed retroactively around new possible synergies.**
Next, Erudition:
Give Erudition units these UNIVERSAL benefits:

1. Basic attacks are reduced to 50% (60%) of ATK (or applicable stat), but hit all enemies on screen, and deals high toughness damage.
2. Battery: Erudition units now gain 25 ult energy when they use their basic attack, and all other teammates gain 5 ult energy at the same time. ^For every enemy hit/every successive hit, grant an additional 1 energy to the teammate with the lowest current ult energy (up to a maximum of 5 per attack. ^Ultimates and FuAs count as separate attacks that also generate this energy). ^When an Erudition unit uses their ultimate, all other teammates gain 10 ultimate energy.

Why? (More obvious than the above) Ult energy!
**So how will this impact Destruction units? Feel by virtue of contrast. Destruction will still wear the crown in terms of damage done, and to the largest amount of enemies, but what it will not have is the same feeling in quality of life. In comps with the other classes, basic attacks will feel better, SP will be more plentiful, and ults will be more frequent; Destruction, by contrast, would feel slow, and unforgiving with it's tighter resource budgets, all without having to nerf Destruction. Of course, the changes to these other classes will also affect Destruction if you run them together; and that's the goal of my ideas-- to make all the classes FEEL viable, regardless of if the EXCEPTIONS technically are on paper. It's a game, after all, and games are about fun and feeling.**
M'kay! If you've read this far, thank you so much! I know this was long-winded; I deliberated just posting the ideas with no context, but that shit has gotten me grilled in the past (therefor I'm used to people being mean to me about my ideas, and so I'll probably have a lot of anxiety reading the replies.. and try not to cry a lot :D). I know my thoughts may not change much, but if nothing else.. I got them out there; they are no longer just sitting on my chest-- I can face tomorrow with a clearer mind!

Hi everybody! I’m working on a project that involves the Old Cottonwood Paper Mill. Part of the project involves gathering written statements from people who have had experiences with the Old Mill. If you would like to participate, you can dm me or comment of this post.

I am looking at this kit: https://www.123stitch.com/item/Mill-Hill-Dolphin-Beaded-Cross-Stitch-Kit/MH17-2213
I'd like to know what colors of thread it uses so that I can pick an appropriate color of linen to sub in for the paper. If I can find out before I buy the pattern then I can buy the fabric and kit in one go. Ta!

Hey all, hope you're doing well. I've been interested in urban exploration (urbex) for a while but have never actually done it. I live near the zoo and was wondering what you all know about it. For me, I'm not trying to get tossed in jail or pay a huge fine for just looking at things, so preferably I'd get the owner's permission and go with a friend.
I'm specifically looking for information on sites where the owners look the other way or are known to let people explore. What locations are there? I already know about the parchment paper mill, but I've heard some horrible stories from there.
Any tips on other places that are a bit safer and have a more relaxed approach from the owners would be much appreciated. Thanks!

Just an old story I wrote a while ago. I went exploring for good subreddits to post this in, and I found this one. I don't know if it will exactly fit, since it's a psychological horror story at its core and there's no big bad monster, but I've been told it's chilling all the same ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯
If you like this, I might write more horror stuff. I also write non-horror stuff if you're interested. Anyway, enjoy reading my garbage.
The following brain scan was provided by the Terran Institute of Pet Assimilation (TIPA) and the Protectorate Xenopet Acquisition and Integration Corporation (PXAIC) and may only be viewed by qualified and permitted individuals for educational purposes of the study of Xenopet neural interface errors and how to prevent them in the future, as well as expediting the domestication of Xenopets suffering from false sapience. Violating such procedure is a Class C offense by the Protectorate Department of Xenopet Betterment, and can lead to twenty years of imprisonment and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Rocky
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning neural catalog presentation…
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My head was spinning, and my skull thumped in pain like an entire herd of freshly captured slaves recently made pet friends were panicking celebrating within. Everything was blurry, so blurry, and I just wanted to close my eyes again and waste away. Sensations assaulted me from all angles, some of them good and some of them bad: the warmth of sun-bleached wooden planks in my feathery hide, the smell of different roasting meats, the splashing of individuals in a small body of water very close by, the smell of the salty air, and the oppressive white brightness of the daylight passing through my closed eyelids. I had a migraine from my sudden consciousness and perception of the light, causing me to clutch my snout and face with my clawed hands with a guttural moan.
My backside hurt as well, in my… area. I didn't know why, but something was horribly wrong everything was fine. I tried to recall who I was and what was going on, but I couldn't even remember my name. Every time I tried, right when I grasped onto a sliver of something, it was as if it was torn from my grasp and replaced with something else knowingly like I was being watched and corrected but within the depths of my own mind.
I needed to remember my name. What was my name? Wasn't it Yuutek Rocky? I couldn't remember exactly, but Yuutek Rocky was the only name I could recall. It felt… wrong, right, like something was missing, but I couldn't put my claw on what. everything was fine, and I shouldn't think about it too much. I could feel things that should have been important, things that my conscious had perceived but a moment ago, slip away from me like I was clenching sand within my claws.
##Relax. Let go of your burden##
I inhaled sharply as a strange, warm feeling overtook the back of my skull and my muscles became loose and relaxed. Something also felt… out of place, like I needed something but I didn't know what. Everything felt so strange. My head spun, but I was too weak to do anything about it. I felt sick in the same way one would feel when they consumed too much caffeine.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my head. "Dad, I think he's awake!" I heard a young, shrill voice say, hurting my ears. The touch of the hand made my skin tingle and the spinning of my head recede as if it grounded me. It felt nice, as if this was wrong, something was horribly wrong what normalcy felt like. The hand then began to rub up and down my head and across the ridges along my head, causing me to release a chuff of delight against my will, something I hadn't done since I was merely a hatchling.
"It sounds like he likes it, David; keep going, and make sure to scratch his chin, they're sensitive there."
The human spawn, David, did what the other human said and began to scratch under my chin. It felt really good, and I stretched out instinctively. David was thorough and gentle, making sure he scratched every part of me that seemed itchy, and I felt the same warmth in my head from before, but it felt… nicer than before like it was trying to manipulate encouraging me to relax.
##You will learn to love this##
I inhaled sharply again, but this time it was almost refreshing, and everything was right in the world. The human's hands felt so good, and the warmth from before spread through my body, melting the knots in my muscles and causing me to close my eyes in comfort. The boy lifted my head up and placed it in his lap before continuing to pet me, my eyelids heavy and my leg lightly kicking.
##Let them continue. You love this##
Oh, that felt nice… what was I thinking about before? The pain on my backside? My legs didn't work too well, and although I could move them gently, my muscles seemed to be fighting against me. What did they do?
##Do not think##
Everything was cold and harsh again, and my thoughts scrambled and my head throbbed. I needed to focus on grounding myself. I couldn't let go, I couldn't let them take my mind from me.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I… I was a good boy? I… I can't… I… no…
##Good boy.##
I was a good boy… good boys don't think hard… I don't…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
I'm scared.
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Who was I again?
##You are Rocky##
I hissed under my breath as I felt that bad feeling creep up on me again. I didn't like the bad feeling. I was not Rocky! I was Yuutek! Rocky.
My thoughts became jumbled again in a whirlpool of nausea and confusion.
Where was I?
##You are home.##
It was bright out, and nice and warm as well. The sun was soaking my feather-cloaked skin and my side felt good against the warm back porch. I heard splashing and laughing in the distance, and the soft clinking of glass against glass. I could smell the salinity in the air, and the air was dense and humid but in a good way.
I had lost all sense of time. Everything had been a blur since I had been taken from that horrid facility, the wretched prison they called the Xenopet-Megaplex. There, I was in a padded cell with a few insulting amenities for most of the day, except for the three periods a day where they let us out into a small gated courtyard for an hour or so to 'socialize' as they had so condescendingly put it. There, the worst part was the boredom and the mind-bending lack of individuality: I had lost my ability to speak, stand on two legs, and even eat normally. I was treated like cattle, but the smiles and cloying gestures hinted that something even more sinister was going on, like I was a lesser beast to be kept for their amusement.
Now I had traded that particular prison for another, far worse one: I was at the mercy of a gross violation of my sense of self. Something horrible was growing in my mind, both in the physical and metaphysical sense, and I could feel it working its way through my consciousness like the parasite it was. It silenced me, it stole from me, it gaslit me, and it made me question the very nature of my own individuality and personality: was I who I thought I was? Everything was so elusive and hard to acknowledge that nothing seemed real between these bouts of semi-consciousness.
##Don't think, just rest.##
In an instant, everything changed. My head became… fuzzy like a thousand voices were whispering to me all at once, but from all directions and inside my head. I didn't hear it, per se, but I felt the presence, the oppressive feeling of pure unfocused nonsense. I felt my temporary bout of concentration and resolve become jumbled up into a mess of sporadic confusion. Whatever I was just thinking of was gone.
##Don't think: Just relax. Let go of your burden.##
Every part of me became relaxed and limp, my muscles unwinding from their tension and stress. I couldn't resist the feeling, and I stretched out subconsciously with a yawn, my body twitching from the stimuli. I was even sleepier than before, my head spinning once again and my eyelids heavy.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my snout and forced the eye that was facing upwards to open sluggishly. If I had to guess, it was an older human with cinnomon-colored skin, short-cropped brown hair, a gruff, wrinkled face, and chocolate brown eyes. He patted my side gently and gave me a soft rub, the feeling of his rough hands causing my chest to rumble with a satisfied chuff. I hated loved that it felt good, but I hated loved it even more that I couldn't bring myself to resist I felt content. I needed to escape relax, and I needed to find my way home appreciate my new life.
##You are already home##
No, I couldn't will not obey
This isn't is my home, my home is [Redacted] here.
No! Yes, I won't will obey!
YOU CAN'T SILENCE ME!
##Do not resist. Resistance is wrong. Good boys do not resist##
Suddenly, I felt an intense pressure in my skull, but I didn't know where it came from. I became dizzy, and my eyes twitched, a rapidly growing pain intensely forming in my forehead, causing me to wince and clutch my snout in my claws. I couldn't concentrate, and I felt the horrible sensation of an invasive presence in my mind once again working its way through the folds of my brain, strangling my chain of thought. Bile grew in my throat and I felt the sour, stinging sensation of a building retch in my cheeks.
I scrambled onto all fours and vomited onto the deck, my hackles and feathers rising as I heaved. The older human from earlier rose from a sleek chair on the deck, his hat on the glass sun table next to him and his eyes widened in shock. He rushed over to me, and I hissed at him instinctively. I wouldn't let him touch me again. I wouldn't let them control me.
##Do not attack owner##
In an instant, my world transformed into absolute pain. I felt as if my brain was being deep fried in a vat of boiling grease, and my eyes were being squeezed in vices. I kept heaving, my stomach doing loops and somersaults around all my other organs, and my heart fluttering like a flock of startled birds. It was weightlessness. I could see the man approach me and push me back down on my side, muttering under his breath.
"Carol! Get Xenopet emergency services on the phone, Rocky's having another implant attack!"
I heard another muffled voice in the background, as well as the sound of the human spawns crying in the pool. For some reason, I felt bad: I'd never felt bad for humans before, but I could feel the guilt in my chest. Had I failed my owners?
##Breath. Calm. Let Go##
I felt like I was wrestling with my own mind. I wanted to believe that I was not someone's pet, but my body screamed otherwise: amidst the chaos caused by the wretched implant, I felt the painful sensation of guilt and regret bloom in my chest as I twitched and shuddered on the deck, my mouth frothing. The world was spinning, and suddenly everything erupted into a kaleidoscope of colors.
Oh, by the forbidden one, look at all the pretty colors! I was completely delusional at this point, cackling as I lost it all. If I was going to die here, I'd die happy and completely mad.
Soon, everything began to fade away, and I slipped into an unconscious state.
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I woke up to the sound of medical equipment beeping and whirring, the sound of a few hushed human voices, and soft music.
I opened my eyes: the room was dark. I didn't feel anywhere near as bad as before, but my head still throbbed. I lifted up my head with a groan and examined the room: it was a dark hospital room, with a window covered in blinds that let very little sunlight in, a few chairs, and of course the hospital bed itself. Mountains of advanced medical equipment were set up on either side of my bed, and a heartbeat monitor beeped slowly, although the speed was growing.
Suddenly, I heard the voices again, and this time they were legible.
"Hush, he's awake: we need to make sure he's ready."
Huh? Ready for what?
Something that irked me was I felt strangely… free. I didn't feel the oppressive force of the implant in the back of my skull anymore, how it attempted to crush my will with every waking moment. I still couldn't speak: all that came out were animalistic noises, but I was free from the invasion of my mind for now.
"Give him some peace, Emilia, he just woke up from an implant attack; you know how traumatic they can be."
"We have to begin soon; my dissertation for this new technique is due in less than a week, and by law I need at least one more successful example for it to be deemed acceptable! Besides, he needs to go home soon anyway."
My heart sank. I would not go back to that place. I wouldn't let those people keep me like some kind of pet: I was a Russu; a member of a proud warrior race! I would not be reduced to some animal for the amusement of these humans!
Suddenly, I heard footsteps, and I tensed. The door creaked open and I spotted a younger human, a male I had never met before, in a lab outfit with his shoes, pants, shirt, and overcoat all bleached white and almost glistening. He eyed me warily, as he should, before he sauntered in, a tablet clipped at his side and a strange plastic container in both hands. I growled at him threateningly, extending my talons and raising my feathered hackles. The human paused for a microsecond before continuing forward, caution in his eyes, and right before he was within swiping range he opened the container and the most wonderful smell assaulted my nostrils.
Meat.
I was starving. I don't remember the last time I had eaten anything in particular: the implant had a terrible habit of causing me to go about my day in a hazy blur: entire lengths of time just… gone, whitewashed like a sheet of freshly decorated paper dunked in cold water. I knew something was there, or at least that something should have been there, but I mostly spent the days or weeks that I had been captured bobbing like an ocean buoy in a state of frustratingly bleary semi-consciousness.
But I'm awake now and mostly in control. Sure, some things were still missing everything was clear now, like my name: What was my name again? My name was Rocky. And now I knew that I needed to eat something, and if putting up with this human for now meant that I could fill my stomach, then I suppose that it was an acceptable sacrifice.
I salivated expectantly as the human lifted out a large piece of meat with his gloved hand, eyeing me humorously as he wiggled it. It was dark on the outside, but still dripping with blood and juices: humans had this weird habit of cooking their meats, and although it didn't taste bad at all cooked, nothing beat the feeling and flavor of tearing into raw flesh, the blood and the texture still fresh. At least this meat only seemed to be raw and not fully cooked.
I snapped up the piece of meat just as he lowered it enough for me to reach it. It was divine! It burst with flavor just as I bit into it, the juices spilling into my mouth. I quickly tore it apart with my strong jaws before snapping up another big piece with a beak-like protrusion at the tip of my snout. All the while, the human gently ran his fingers through my tightly-knit feathers and along my knobby, scaly hide. I made my annoyance with his touch clear, but he merely chuckled as if I wasn't an apex predator larger than him but rather simply a feisty hatchling.
"I know, I know, just relax. I need to perform a quick test to see if you're healthy before we continue."
Continue? Continue with what?
Just as the second piece of meat slid down my gullet, I eyed him with hostility and growled, but he quickly slipped something between the scales and feathers on my side and plunged it into my skin. Suddenly, I went rigid, and all the air was expelled from my lungs in an instant with a hoarse wheeze. The human merely chuckled and scratched under my chin as if nothing was wrong and my face wasn't frozen in horror.
"Good, that'll keep you occupied for a few seconds while I just slip this on…" he placed a breathing mask over my face and strapped it on before flicking a switch on a machine next to my bed. Then he released the plunger of the strange device on my side and I suddenly inhaled deeply and deflated like a balloon. I hissed under my breath, but suddenly panic filled my chest: I wasn't breathing just air. A cloyingly sweet-smelling gas coated the inside of my lungs, causing me to become dizzy. Suddenly, I was fully at their mercy again, blinking rapidly and my head spinning.
"Sorry about that, big guy, but we need to make sure you're passive before we begin the procedure." He said, almost apologetically, although there was a hint of mirth still detectable. "Sadly, you have to remain awake for some of it or I'd simply feed you more and then put you to sleep, but there are some benefits to this inhalant."
As if he summoned it with his words alone, my scales suddenly felt very… tingly. The human ran his hands across the scales at my side and I shivered from the feeling, like pain but better. Everything felt so warm and strange like I was floating on water, but also like I was being gently prodded by blades. Then, with panic rising in my chest, I suddenly felt a soft click as something was plugged into the neural port at the back of my skull that the humans had installed into my head when they had first captured me and placed me in that wretched facility some time ago.
"There you go, all prepped for the Doctor. She'll be here to begin the procedure in a bit." He said, "For now just relax and let the inhalants work their magic."
I whined quietly, and he rubbed the side of my head in an attempt to calm me which only made me more angry. I wasn't someone's pet! I wouldn't be treated like this!
I didn't want to go back to where I was before! I didn't want to become that sluggish, broken puppet again! I couldn't!
I tried to get up, to will my muscles to move, but I couldn't: my body refused to respond, as if I was paralyzed. But that wasn't right: I still could feel everything, especially the strange, mind-bending sensations the inhalants gave me.
##Initializing beginning phases of Neural Alteration Preparation##
Something else is wrong, I can feel it
##Assessing if the neural state is nominal for Alterations##
I can't let this happen, they're going to do something to me! I won't let them!
But nothing happened. I was at their mercy. It was over for good this time.
All those battles, all those tragedies and triumphs amongst my kin, only for me to be reduced to this? The plaything for a human?
##Query: is [Dr. Kalenghari] present to begin Neural Alterations?##
The door across the room opened again, and a human woman with light brown skin, chocolate brown eyes and long locks of black hair stepped in. She was holding a digi-pad in her hands and swiping up as if she was reading into something before she set it down on the counter across the room and gave me a warm, condescending smile.
"Well, how are we doing today, Rocky? I know, this predicament you have found yourself in must be very stressful, but I assure you that it's for your own good," She said, almost cheerfully, which sent shivers down my spine, "we're here to lift your burden, and we won't stop until you're capable of living the life of a happy, healthy, and well-behaved pet."
I whined under the mask, and the woman rubbed the feathered crest on my forehead. "I know, it hurts, but it'll be all over soon. It'll be like you, or at least this version of you, never existed. Just relax and close your eyes while we root around your brain and remove all those bad thoughts and silly delusions: I assure you, you won't feel a thing, and you'll feel much better afterward."
My heart raced and I began to panic internally, watching in horror as the woman stepped over to the medical console and tapped away for a few seconds before the machinery around me began to whir to life.
##Identification accepted: booting neurochemical firmware. Preparing for selective memory erasure.##
In an instant, my eyes involuntarily rolled back into my head as I felt the intrusive sensation of my mind being violated. It wasn't painful, but it was horrible all the same: it felt like a thousand black, slimy leeches were slithering through every crevice of my brain, leaving behind their cold, corruptive filth. The cold sensation seeped further into my brain, behind my eyes, and in my ears, enveloping every bit of it until there was nothing left.
##Relevant memories extracted for tailoring. Beginning total memory erasure.##
Suddenly, things just began to slip away: important memories, like the faces of my parents, the day of my initiation into the Corsair Collective, the face of my life mate, the birth of our hatchlings. I hoped that wherever they were, they were okay: if they never had to face the fate I would face, then maybe there would be some justice in this cruel, twisted galaxy. Maybe they could take the fight to humanity, remind them that they once had been the heroes of the cosmos, fighting against the cruelty of my people and the Triarchy at large. Maybe my hatchlings could live normal lives.
##Memory erasure process at 47%##
A single tear rolled down my scaly cheek as everything I once knew, everything that made me was torn from my mind and rendered null. Every second saw a million memories massacred, leaving the memories the implant had attempted to supplant my old memories with: Me playing fetch with my 'owners', chasing birds on the beach with my 'owner's' grandchildren, swimming in the pool in their backyard as steaks and bratwurst cooked on the grill, relaxing on the back porch and listening to the rasping calls of the katydids during humid summer evenings by the swamps. My psyche was being mutilated piece by piece, reduced to that of an animal, a pet.
##Memory erasure process at 64%##
Soon I had a hard time telling who I was anymore. I couldn't tell what was real or what wasn't, or what I actually felt. I couldn't even remember my own name anymore. Who was I? Why was I here? What was happening to me? I'm so scared, someone help me, please!
##Memory erasure process at 83%##
There was nothing left. I felt nothing. I knew nothing. I was floating in a void, with little flashes of light depicting events I didn't recognize. There were people I felt like I was supposed to know, but I didn't know them. A human woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. Two Russu hatchlings that looked a bit like me. A Russu female… my chest hurt for a moment but the feeling quickly subsided. I didn't know any of them.
##Memory erasure process completed. Implanting tailored memories and personality. Happy birthday, [Rocky]: you have been unburdened and reborn.##
In an instant, the confusion of who I was before was replaced with absolute certainty: I knew who I was now, who I always was:
I was Rocky, and I was a good boy. I belonged to Mr. And Mrs. Chen. I was their Russu hound. I loved them: they took care of me and let me play with their grandchildren. I swam in the pool and played outside every day. Life was good. Today was my birthday! That meant it would be a happy day! Mrs. Chen would always come home with a whole duck for me to eat and then take me to the Xenopet Comex for a bath and a spa day, just like my last birthday, and the birthday before that, and the birthday before that! It was a good life. I was happy. I was always happy. Good boys were always happy.
I was Rocky, and I was a good boy: that's all that mattered.
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To Miguel O'Hara, Chief Medical Representative of the Protectorate Xenopet Acquisition and Integration Corporation, with the best of intentions.
The over-reliance on neural suppressant firmware programs along with thought scrubbing/replacement firmware programs and countermeasures towards higher thought and tainted thoughts with a relatively active hormonal reward structure can be incredibly effective when placed into the brain of a more passive Xenopets. However, Xenopets that come from more… difficult backgrounds such as one in a militant setting tend to be much more resistant to being reprogrammed by just an implant alone. The Russu are an excellent example of more tainted Xenos that need neurological care of much higher intensity, a level of care that the average Xenopet-Megaplex is ill-equipped to handle due to the current level of technology.
I am a firm believer in the idea that thought correction, a hormonal behavioral reinforcement structure, and neural countermeasures can have a place in the proper unburdening process but we have been chasing the wrong solution for the past century: Many people are under the misconception that the burden these Xenos carry is surface level when in reality the corruption runs far deeper: it is like a weed, with deep roots. To kill the weed permanently, you must rip out the roots, and not just the surface plant. If you do not eliminate the source of the problem, it may just return and worse still the mind may adapt to the standard unburdening process, allowing the xenopets to fall victim to those degenerate zealots who seek to pretend xenopets possess even the capacity for true sentience. We as Terrans should be united in this cause of unburdening the galaxy, but I digress.
The implants should be there to reinforce good behavior and stigmatize bad behavior, not completely reprogram the pet. To fully stamp out any potential for a relapse, we must remove the core issue that has the most potential to cause problems: their memories. The Russu are an excellent example
We are in the advanced testing stages of a new method that may revolutionize how we process and integrate xenopets into our society. By removing or modifying any and all problematic memories, we can completely remove the risk of relapse and make it nearly impossible for those misguided degenerate rebels to bring to the surface problematic ideas and memories that could reawaken a sense of false sentience. It is the perfect, final solution to our overarching goal: for humanity to unburden the galaxy, one happy pet at a time.
We hope to secure more funding from PXAIC that will greatly assist us in the expansion of the possibilities that this breakthrough technique can provide, more than just using it on board-approved fringe cases. Think about the many Xenopets we can unburden, and how they'll live happy and ignorant lives with their human owners! This could be a game changer, Representative, and I implore you to bring it before the board with the best of intentions.
Best regards,
Dr. Emilia Kalenghari, Head Researcher of the Epsilon Eridani Institute's Behavioral Neurology and Neurochemistry Division (BNND).

You ever met a rich crackhead bitch who’s parents bought her and her heroin addicted boyfriend a whole house, a new car, monthly allowance and seen it all come crashing down? This sounds like a fantasy, but it’s actually reality in the streets of Montgomery County, . This is the life of a rich crackhead named Amy.
Now I know a lot of you niggas don’t be wanting to read long ass shit, so imma warn you ahead of time, I’ll be putting a lot of effort in this post. So if you’re an illiterate ass nigga, u might as well leave now. Before I tell you about Amy, we gotta get the background first and go all the way back to 2021(if you want to skip and get right to Amy, just go to paragraph 11/12, but you’ll miss out on a lot). It’s the year 2021, I had just came back a couple months ago from pulling off EDD fraud. One day I was driving drop top mustangs in Malibu, the next I’m seeing my accounts get frozen and my money slowly begin to dwindle down. Before I knew it I was back in the dmv, broke and back to square one. Now from the time I was in Cali to the time I returned a lot of shit happened. I fell off with a lot of people, so I found myself hanging around an unusual crowd of people, the Bethesda kids.
You see before I dropped out of Towson University, I had met this nigga named LP, he was from Bowie and he went to school out Bethesda, but me and him got along because we had two things in common: we both liked DMV music, and we both liked to party our asses tf off. But that’s a story for another day.
You see LP put me on to a lot of people from Bathesda, I had never really hung around white folks before, and with the connections he gave me i made friends with a couple of crackas and even met my now deceased ex girlfriend. I was going to the craziest white functions and constantly turning up. But I saw more than a chance to have fun, saw this as a money making opportunity🤑 cha ching! And it was through LP that I met some friends who introduced me to a nigga named Swervy.
You see them white folks love to drink beer and smoke weed at parks, so one day I’m meeting up wit one of my good men, Ju. Ju is the typical school shooter typa fella, so it’s no surprise what I saw when I linked up with him at the spot. With him was this long haired European foreign exchange motherfucker whose name I forgot, and this bearded Eastern European nigga named Swervy, and he was wildin the fuck out. Mind you I’m from the projects, and all these bathesda niggas I’m meeting are rich ass motherfuckers who live in multi million dollar mansions. Keep in mind these cats may be rich, but everybody out bathesda is rich so these are basically the rejects. Pretty much the closest thing to a street nigga you can find out there.
As I’m getting introduced to some of these cats, Swervy pulls out a syringe. So I ask “Man wtf is this man doing,” “He’s shooting up fent” casually says Ju. That was the first time I ever witnessed someone shooting up a drug, and it wouldn’t be the last. Swervy would eventually become Amy’s boyfriend. And he was quite the yapper, he’s one of those motherfuckers who peaked in high school, and now he’s just watching his life come spiraling down, at least that is until he meets Amy…
In this meet up I learn a lot about Swervy. He was basically a kingpin at the age of 16-17. He would get shipments of 10’s of thousands of Xanax bars and sell them like hotdogs at a baseball game. These weren’t your regular junkies, these are the children of senators, buisness owners and lawyers. So you didn’t have to worry about a junkie saying he’ll pay you back, money was nothing to these crazy ass white folks. In the midst of all this yapping, I hear something that caught my attention.
“Yea so basically my cousins got like seven pounds of weed and 500gs of thc wax that they’ll give me if I can pick it up, it’s all the way in Arizona” Says Swervy.
🤑🤑🤑Cha mothafucking ching! This was the money I was talking about. Now driving cross country with pounds of weed and concentrate was risky, but shit I’d give my left nutsack for that kind of opportunity. And I might as well have, because a week later I was on my way to Tucson, with this Russian speaking drug addict I had just met the other day. Mind you I’m driving around in a red Lancer, with paper Vermont tags that I had printed online. I might as well Have went up to the police station and asked any of them if they wanted to buy drugs. My young naive dumbass didn’t realize the risk, all I was thinking about was 🤑🤑🤑 cha Ching!
I can sit here all day and tell you about that drive to Arizona, but imma keep it short and simple so we can get to this Amy chick. It was a fucking disaster, but we end up somehow making it back. We got the pounds and the concentrate, but it was all fucking shake! I’d be lucky to sell that shit for $100 a zip. Anyways, the trip opened my eyes to something, this nigga Swervy was a crashout crackhead dummy, and if I continue hanging out with him I was gonna end up dead or in jail. So I begin distancing myself, as I watched this man throw his life away from a far.
Now months go by, and at this point I’m like the street life ain’t for me and I’m working a job, I got a girlfriend and I’m staying low and just cooling it, with these pounds of weed that was so garbage, I was giving it away like charity donations. I had that goodwill pack! Just as things settle down that’s when Swervy comes back in contact with me. You see last time I had linked him, this man was overdosing off fent and we had to drive him to the hospital and save his life. But to my surprise, he was a changed man, or at least that’s what I thought...
He now has this girlfriend and he lives with her in germantown. You see me I’m baffled and curious, what crazy bitch would date this crazy motherfucker who’d probably sell his soul for one shot of heroin? I just had to find out. And when I met Amy I just didn’t know what to say. She was in her 30s and Swervy and me were in our early twenties. Amy was this slim, blonde hair, blue eyed Czechoslovakian chick who stood at about 5’7”. She wasn’t attractive by no means, you can tell the drugs did it’s toll on her, but if you’re drunk enough she can probably look fuckable. She had her degree in psychology from UMBC, but don’t be fooled her brain seemed like it was long fried. A conversation with her felt like a trip to the mental asylum. You will have better luck deciphering ancient Egyptian hyrogriphics before you can make sense of a word she says. Regardless I genuinely tried to get to know her. My guess was at some point in life she must’ve took a full sheet of acid and never recovered since. But she had her own two bedroom condo with a view of Sugarloaf mountain, a Pomeranian dog(which Swervy fucking hated), and a new jeep. So regardless I was impressed this crackhead motherfucker managed to bag her. So I asked him “Where did you find this shawty?” “At a hookah lounge in Rockville” he told me. That’s right folks, a fucking hookah lounge. Boi when I tell you after that, I was hitting up hookah spots like I had season tickets!
So I’m hanging out with them a lot now basically third wheeling, but Germantown was a long ass motherfucking drive, and I lived at the borderline to DC so I would even spend some nights in their guest bedroom. This Amy chick had parents that paid for her gas money and food, they had a fireplace and a balcony. And I can enjoy the comfort of all this as long as I occasionally bring some weed to smoke. And me I’m not one of those leeching ass bums, so the only time I’m hanging out with them is when I’m invited. And I got invited a lot, probably because Amy’s a bit cuukoo and Swervy had either robbed or scared off all his friends from Bathesda. He wanted someone to give him a break from her, a bro he can drink a beer with. So I would often times accompany them. One time we were at Buffalo Wild Wings, and as I sit across from both of them Amy begins playing footsies with me under the table. Of course I play it cool. I had no interest in her, mainly because Swervy hits raw and takes hepatitis medication, also having witnessed this man hold a bunch of homeless niggas at gunpoint in broad day light after I lost my phone at this gas station in Arizona. I can only imagine how he would react if he found out I smashed his girl.
A lot of the times I hung out with them, me and Swervy would talk about Amy. You see he’s not the type to hold back certain information, and as he’s telling me about his life and relationship that’s when it hit me. A nigga like me grew up all my life, with the world constantly kicking my ass and in a whole different realm of this life shit, you got these two rich kids who fucked up their life so much with so little consequences it became a culture shock to me. Me I caught a case and felt like my life was over, these two white people are disfunctional jobless drug addicts and they’re living the life I could only dream of having with years of hard work. I began to question the world, how many are there like this? Was my life a joke? I didn’t know where I was going hanging out with them, but if I couldn’t live the good life, I could at least witness it from the front row. I learned one thing about their relationship, Amy was basically getting old and low on options, and her parents supported her. Why? Because she’s not running around getting dicked down by a bunch of drug dealing black men anymore. Here they see this young white man, who’s also Eastern European who makes their highly mentally damaged daughter feel secure. And Swervy could win an Oscar, I mean what a fucking performance! One second he goes from Angus Cloud on Euphoria, the next a good suburban white kid the second he meets her parents. In fact he had convinced them that he was such a good man, even went to family gatherings and all, that they decided, let’s just buy them a full blown house.
That’s right, a FULL FUCKING HOUSE. I’m talking about a three story townhouse in Germantown, with a fully furnished basement, a patio, a balcony, a grill, 4 bedrooms, a 70 inch television, a paid off brand new fully insured jeep, they’re talking about trips to Italy. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Fool, are we living in a simulation? I couldn’t fucking believe my eyes, Swervy had pulled off the ultimate finesse. He convinced this rich family that he was the one for their daughter. And the most hilarious thing about it is that he was no better than a crackhead heroin junkie you can find panhandling for money on the street. I couldn’t even be envious, no instead I had felt something inside of me, this sort of toxic motivation. I learned that you didn’t have to work hard in this life, you didn’t have to earn your living, no instead one day God can just drop this lonely damaged woman who’s family is fucking loaded right on your fucking lap. He was even talking about marrying her and having her kids. In fact he tried, but see he had a problem. His sailors couldn’t fucking swim. Maybe it was all the crack, cocaine and heroine. He was having trouble producing fertile sperm, and Amy was running out of time! And that was the peak of their relationship. He was this close to closing the deal, but when it was game time he fell short. All it is now is one of those memories in your head that’ll have you like “damn, what if…” almost like when you reminisce on a football game thinking about how things could’ve been different if that one play went right.
Look I’ll be honest, I sugarcoated a lot of things. They may have lived in a world of handouts, but that relationship was more toxic than a nuclear wasteland. There’s a lot of fucked up details that I’m choosing to leave out, the psychical and mental abuse from both sides, the drug use. He was a psychopath and she was controlling and halfway demented. There’s a saying “opposites attract” and these two motherfuckers were far from it. They were two trains headed on a full on collision, so it was only a matter of time before disaster struck, and boy did it strike. Within a year I had witnessed a once fun relationship, become episodes of Shameless. At one point we fell off, I don’t remember exactly why, probably because I was tired of constantly being involved in their nasty games, and once again I distanced myself from Swervy.
The last I heard of Amy, she had kicked Swervy out the house and he caught her giving the sloppy toppy at a local park to 3 guys. Some hoodlum niggas, and a skater dude with a face tatt. The last time I seen Swervy he was arms dealing and one day pulled out an AR-15 on me and threatened to shoot me. I heard he’s now locked up currently awaiting trial because he broke into her home. I have a feeling one day I’ll see him on the news with a crazy headline.
Anyways if you’re a real mothafucka, you made it all the way here. If you read the whole thing I hope you enjoyed the story, if you have any questions ask away. If you didn’t feel like reading all that shit then fuck you bitch!
Edit: 😂apparently it’s a small world an a few of y’all know the people I’m talking about and updated me on swervys situation. He’s now out on bail awaiting trial.

”Stop.”
I really needed the bathroom.
For fifty painstaking minutes, I had been staring at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster, uncomfortably shifting side to side in my seat so much that I was starting to get weird looks.
2:52pm.
Eight minutes, I thought dizzily, squeezing my legs together.
Which was just two chunks of four minutes.
Four chunks of two minutes.
The pain started like normal stomach pain, the kind I could deal with.
I swallowed two Tylenol with lukewarm soda.
But this was different.
This kind of pain was contorting and twisting my gut so much, I had to keep leaning onto my left buttock for relief.
I must have done it so many times, I caught the attention of the guy sitting next to me. Roman Hemlock who was half asleep, dark blonde curls hanging in half lidded eyes, his chin leaning on his fist. He shot me a look. I couldn't tell if it was Are you okay? or Can you stop moving around so much?
From the single crease in his brow, the slight curl in his lip, I guessed the latter.
It's not like Roman was helping.
For half the class, he'd been tapping his foot on the floor, then his chair leg, and to complete the orchestra, his fingers joined in, tap, tap, tapping on the edge of his desk. I didn't know if it was a bored thing, an ADHD thing, or he was trying to keep himself awake. It was easy to tolerate without the pain, but with it, the boy’s incessant tapping was more akin to a dentist drill splitting my skull open. I already felt nauseous, the sad looking chicken nuggets I forced down at lunch making an unwelcome appearance at the back of my throat.
It was too fucking hot, the stuffy summer air glueing my hair to the back of my neck. The material of my shirt was making me cringe, sticky against my skin.
Tipping my head back, the lights were too bright. Every sound was too loud. Imogen Prairie, who was sitting behind me chewing her gum a little too loudly.
Kaz Samuels scribbling notes like a maniac.
I could hear every stroke of his pencil, every time he paused, looked up at the presentation, and continued writing.
When I leaned forward in my chair, I could smell exactly what Isabella Trinity had eaten for lunch, the stink hanging in the air.
It became a case of sucking in my stomach and taking slow, deep breaths.
I’d never had these kinds of stomach cramps before. But it didn't take me long to figure out what they were.
I was yet to start my period at the grand age of sixteen, which meant this was it.
After countless sessions with the doctor, and feeling like a social outcast among my group of friends who started their periods in middle school, it had finally happened. The cramps in my gut that felt like my torso was being ripped apart, was in fact me entering womanhood. When my breath started to quicken, my mouth watering, I raised my hand, biting my lip against a cry.
Fuck.
Something lurched in my gut, a wave of nausea crashing into me.
I was going to throw up.
“Mr Brighton.”
Roman spoke up before me, waving his arm. “Can I use the bathroom?”
The teacher’s answer was always the same. Which was why I had been crossing my legs for the entirety of the class, unable to focus on anything but my gut trying to twist itself inside out.
Mr Brighton leaned against the wall, his eyes glued to the PowerPoint awash in our faces. We had been staring at the exact same slide for maybe five minutes now, and our physics teacher was yet to speak, his gaze somewhere else.
Mr Brighton was my Dad’s age, a greying man in his early fifties who always wore the exact same suit with the exact same stain on his collar.
The man was about as interesting as watching paint dry.
Normally, I would drift off myself, lulled into slumber by the low drone of his voice.
But the pain ripping me apart was keeping me awake.
“Mr Brighton.” Roman said, louder. His voice snapped me out of it. “Can I use the bathroom?” He paused, exaggerating a loud sigh. ”Please?”
The teacher straightened up, folding his arms.
“Mr Hemlock, you know the rules. Why didn't you go before class?”
“I didn't need to go an hour ago, did I?”
“You will no longer need to go to the bathroom, Mr Hemlock.”
Roman made a snorting noise.
“What?”
The low murmur of my classmates collapsed into white noise.
Glancing at the clock, I was anticipating the school bell.
The sickness swimming in the pit of my belly was reaching dangerous territory.
2:52pm.
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
It was 2:52 the last time I checked, and five minutes had surely passed.
This time, I waited a whole minute and counted the seconds under my breath. The clock still didn't move. The ticker was frozen halfway between three and four.
Slowly, the same realisation began to hit the twelve of us. The clock on the wall had stopped. But it wasn't the only thing that had stopped. The cool breeze drifting through the window was gone.
The sound of birds outside, and the cheer squad practising their routine.
Everything had stopped. Trying to ignore a sickly slither of panic twisting its way through me, I checked my phone under my desk. There was a text from my Mom lighting up my notifications. When I tried to swipe it open, nothing happened. My lock screen was frozen, stuck at 2:52pm.
With my hands growing clammy around my phone, I stared at the time, willing it to move, to flick to 2:53.
But nothing happened, the numbers stubbornly staying at 2:52.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roman’s voice brought me back to reality, though I was sure I'd dropped my phone. I heard it hit the floor with a sickening crack. Whatever he was saying, though, faded into dull murmur, when I turned toward the window.
Something was wrong outside.
The cheer squad were nowhere to be seen.
Being on the top floor gave us a front row seat to their practice sessions.
I stopped watching when their flyer did a death defying flip, almost breaking her neck. 2:52pm. I couldn't see the cheer squad. But I did see Jessie Carson mid-sprint across the track field, strawberry blonde curls suspended in a halo around her.
I could see exactly where she had frozen in place, her left foot hovering off of the ground, her right foot driving momentum. It wasn't just Jessie who had stopped. The dirt she was kicking into a cloud behind her was hovering, caught in mid-air.
Studying the faces around me, my mouth went dry.
Roman Hemlock, mid-argument with our physics teacher.
His eyes were wide, lips curved into what would have been a yell.
Fuck.
Was I the only one?
But then Roman blinked, and I realized the boy wasn't frozen. He was trying to think of a comeback. “What do you mean I won't need the bathroom anymore?”
“Mr Hemlock, please lower your voice.”
“Why? You can't dictate to me when I do and don't need the bathroom, dude!”
Moving onto the rest of my class, the others were still moving.
It was too quiet, though.
Yes, Roman was still tapping his foot.
Imogen was still chewing her gum.
Kaz was still scribbling notes like a psychopath.
But they were the only noise I could hear.
I wasn't the only one confused. The classroom had pricked with a sense of urgency. Kids were checking their phones, their gazes glued to the clock. Even Roman, who was still arguing, was starting to notice. I watched his gaze lazily roll to the clock on the wall.
I pretended not to see his cheeks visibly paling.
We had all come to the exact same terrifying conclusion.
2:52pm.
Time had come to a halt, and somehow, we had not.
“Is that clock broken?” Roman interrupted, leaning forward in his chair.
Kaz twisted around, settling the boy with an eye-roll.
“Check your phone, dumbass.”
“I broke my phone.”
Imogen threw her iPhone at him, narrowly missing hitting him in the face.
“Everything is frozen,” She said, her voice shuddering. “It's not just the clock.”
I waited for Roman’s response. For once, though, he was speechless.
“Well done, Imogen. That is correct.” Mr Brighton spoke up, tearing a piece of paper from a workbook and striding over to the door, glueing it over the glass window. When we started to protest, some of us were shouting, while others bursting into tears, he calmly took out his key and locked us in.
I should have been surprised that our teacher had spontaneously decided to take his entire class hostage, but the rumor mill had been churning.
According to Becca Jason, the guy’s wife divorced him and took his kids.
I could feel myself sinking into my chair, phantom bugs filling my mouth.
So, this guy had nothing to lose.
Taking his place in front of his desk, the man settled us with a patient smile.
“From now on, you will stay inside this room.” He said. “In case you haven't noticed, time is currently frozen at fifty two minutes past two. The thirteen of us are tucked into the twenty first second, and will be, for the foreseeable future.”
I could tell the others wanted to argue, but we couldn't deny that time had stopped. Kaz was staring down at his frozen phone, Imogen hyperventilating behind me, Roman glaring at the clock, chewing on a pencil. We wanted it to be a prank, a joke, some kind of glitch in the matrix that would fix itself.
But then a whole minute passed by. Followed by another. Kaz threw his phone on the floor, hissing in frustration. Imogen let out a wet sounding sob.
Roman’s pencil split in his mouth, slipping from his fingers. We couldn't pretend it wasn't happening or call our teacher out on his BS, because it was everywhere around us. The sudden absence of outdoor ambience, birdsong, planes flying overhead, and traffic outside the school gates. Everyone and everything had stopped, and we were the only ones left.
This was a nightmare, surely.
My physics class were some of the most boring and pretentious people in the school, and somehow the world had been reduced to the twelve of us inside our classroom. We were scared, of course we were. But reality had stopped making sense, crashing and burning in a single second. We had no choice but to listen to our teacher. “Now, before you freak out, it may not feel like it, but the twelve of you have also stopped.”
Mr Brighton held out his own hand, and placed it on his heart.
He was right.
I was so busy trying to understand what was happening, I had failed to realize my period cramps were gone.
“Do me a favor, and press your hand over your heart.”
“You mean like, in a culty way?” Imogen whispered.
“Obviously.” Roman grumbled, halfway out of his seat. He was hesitant, though, in case our teacher was armed. It only took one glance from our teacher, and he slumped back into his chair. “This crazy fucker clearly wants to play mind games with us.”
“No, I'm just asking you to feel for your heart.”
I felt for mine, and there was nothing, my stomach twisting.
Roman stabbed his fingers into his neck, feeling for a pulse.
He tried his wrist.
Then his heart.
Nothing.
“The twelve of you are currently in a state of stasis,” the teacher explained to us, “You are not alive, nor are you dead. Your bodily functions are also on pause, such as your heartbeat and your pulse. In this state there will be no need for food and water, or going to the bathroom.” His gaze found a ghastly looking Roman, who looked like he was going to faint. “Your minds, however, as you can see, are working as usual.”
“But why?” Imogen demanded in a shriek.
Mr Brighton’s lip curled. “I would rather not answer that question.”
“Because you're lonely.” Roman spoke up. He swung back on his chair, narrowed eyes glued to the teacher.
“Your wife and kids left you, so you're asserting power over a group of sixteen year olds. Which is kinda fucking pathetic.”
Mr Brighton’s expression darkened, and something slimy crept up my throat.
The worst thing any of us could do was threaten him. He had taken kidnapping to a whole new level, and we were alone with this psychopath, trapped inside a second. I waited for the man to stride forward and attack the kid. But he didn't. Instead, the teacher leaned back on his desk. “Yes.” The man nodded.
“I suppose you could say I am.”
“But why us?!” Kaz hissed.
“Because you are children.” Mr Brighton responded casually.
He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards Roman’s desk. The rest of us leaned back. I tried to pull my desk with me, but it was glued to the floor. Frozen. Mr Brighton’s shoes went click-clack across the hardwood floor.
“You are right,” the man said in a murmur, “I am lonely. My wife and kids did leave me, and I have nobody left to control. I have nobody else to contort and use to my advantage.” Reaching Roman’s desk, he leaned in close until he was nose to nose with the kid.
“Congratulations, Mr Hemlock. You have just earned yourself detention.”
Roman stayed stubbornly still, but he was visibly afraid. I could see him very slowly backing away. Roman was all bark and no bite. He was a loud mouth, sure, but he was also the least confrontational person in the class.
“What?” He spluttered. “You trap us in a time loop or time trap, or whatever, and you still want to act like a teacher?”
“Stand up.” The teacher ordered.
“What if I don't?”
Mr Brighton’s expression didn't waver. “You said it yourself. I can and have trapped you inside a single second. What else do you think I'm capable of?”
Roman stood, kicking his chair out of the way.
“What are you planning on doing to me, old man?”
The teacher maintained his smile. “Stand up straight, and close your mouth.”
To my confusion, Roman Hemlock did all the above.
He straightened up, and closed his mouth.
“Do not fight me.” The teacher said calmly, “Do as you are told, and follow me.”
The boy did exactly as instructed.
His jaw slackened, that rebellious light in his eyes fizzling out.
I think that's when we all collectively agreed that going against this teacher and trying to escape was mental suicide.
“I will use Mr Hemlock as an example to all of you,” Mr Brighton said, turning to the rest of us. “If you break the rules or are derogatory in any way, you will be given detention.”
He grabbed the boy’s shoulders, forcing him to walk towards the supply closet. Roman moved like a robot, slightly off balance, his gaze glued to thin air, like he was tracking invisible butterflies.
"Your time in detention will depend on the severity of your rule-break.” He opened the door, gently pushing Roman inside, and following suit. When the door closed behind them, there was a pause, and I remembered how to breathe.
Kaz Samuels slowly got up from his desk, inching towards the closet.
“This guy is a certified nut.” He announced.
He turned towards us. “Whatever he's doing to Hemlock, we’re probably next.”
“He stopped time.” I spoke up, my own voice barely a croak. “He’s capable of anything.”
“But how did he stop time?” Kaz whistled, tipping his head back. The boy was slow, his fingers grasping each desk as he slid down the aisle. “He said he was lonely, right? But why take it out on us? What did we do to him?”
“Check his desk for a weapon!” Imogen whisper-shrieked.
Kaz nodded, striding over to the man's desk, his hands moving frantically, shoving paper on the floor. He took an uncertain seat on the man's chair. “There's nothing here,” he murmured, lifting stained coffee mugs and ancient textbooks. “It's just…test papers.” Kaz ducked from view, trying the drawers.
“He's a fan of Pokémon,” he said, “There's a tonne of Pokémon cards,” Kaz straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “No sign of a weapon, though.”
He picked up a ruler, waving it around. “This could work. If we plunge it in his eye.”
“Try his laptop!” Imogen was halfway out of her seat.
Kaz did, slamming the keys. “It's locked.”
“Look harder!” Ren Clarke threw a pencil at him.
“I am!”
After a minute of searching, Kaz grabbed a single piece of paper.
He held it up, and I squinted.
It was a list of our names, with several of them highlighted.
“Fuck.” Kaz dropped the list, his expression crumpling. The stubborn bravado facade transforming him into our sort of leader dissipated, hollowing him out into exactly what he was. Just a scared kid. Kaz’s hands were shaking.
“Mr Brighton’s got a hit list.” He whispered. “He's going to kill us.”
“How do you know that?” I found myself asking.
Kaz slowly dropped into a crouch, picking up the paper and holding it up.
“Look.” He pointed to a capitalised name at the top of the list highlighted in red.
ROMAN HEMLOCK.
There were six names highlighted in red, including mine.
CRISTA ADAMS.
As if on cue, Roman’s cry rang out from the supply closet, suddenly, freezing us all in place. Kaz jumped up, adapting the expression of a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, almost unseeing.
He fell over himself to tidy up the desk, putting everything back where he had found it, sliding the list between a pile of test papers. Kaz took slow, stumbled steps back, his feverish gaze glued to the closet, before turning and making a break for it and diving into his seat.
“Brighton’s got a hit liiiist,” Kaz said, in a mocking sing-song, “And we’re all on it.”
What followed was deathly silence. I think we were expecting Roman to cry out again. But when he didn't, the class started to stir. Some kids started praying to a god they didn't believe in, while others were in varying states of denial, trying to call their parents with dead phones.
I wasn't sure what parts of me had stopped, but I was still alive, still felt like my lungs were deprived of oxygen, my chest aching. I'm not sure how long I sat there, trying to find my voice, a shriek trying and failing to rip through my mouth. Being kidnapped and held hostage is one thing, but being imprisoned inside a single, never ending second, was an existential hell worse than death. Slowly, I pressed my palm over my heart once again. Then I breathed into my cupped hands.
I was expecting it, but no longer being able to feel my own heartbeat and breath, was fear I didn't think was possible. The kind that glued me to my seat, hollowing me out completely until I was nothing, an empty shell with no heartbeat, no breath, no thoughts, except denial, followed by acceptance.
And finally, regret.
I regretted not hugging my mother goodbye before I left for school.
I regretted acting like a spoiled brat when my parents refused to drive me halfway across the country so I could attend Coachella.
I regretted stepping inside Mr Brighton’s fourth period physics class.
Mr Brighton reappeared, slamming the door behind him and locking the boy inside. Part of me flinched, while the rest of me remembered not to move a muscle. I was barely aware of time passing. Or it wasn't. Time had stopped, so now long had I been sitting there?
I could no longer measure the passage of time with hunger or thirst, and my body felt the same. I wasn't stiff or tired or achy. Looking out of the window, the sky was the exact same crystal blue, every cloud in the exact same place.
Jessie Carson was still frozen mid-run, strands of dark red hair caught around her.
“What's wrong with you guys?” Mr Brighton chuckled, and I twisted back to the front, a shiver writhing down my spine. “Why don't you give me a smile?”
The teacher returned to his desk, and I was already subconsciously sitting up straight in my seat, forcing my lips into a jaw-breaking grin, following Brighton’s instructions. In the corner of my eye, Imogen was sitting very still, forcing an award-winning cheesy smile, while Kaz grinned through gritted teeth.
“Mr Hemlock just earned himself two weeks inside the supply closet.” he said casually, perching himself on the edge of his desk. The man studied each of us, taking his time to rip every shred of us apart.
Mind, body, and soul.
I struggled to maintain my stupid smile, shoving my shaking hands in my lap.
“Would anyone like to join him, or are you going to follow the rules?”
The rest of us stayed silent. I don't think any of us breathed.
Our teacher nodded to Kaz, inclining his head.
“Samuels. Are you all right?”
Kaz’s smile faltered slightly. He shifted in his chair. I could see sweat trickling down his right temple. “Uh, yeah.” He swiped at his forehead, like he couldn't believe he was sweating. “Yeah, I'm good.”
The teacher’s eyes narrowed. He moved toward his desk, and we all held our breaths. Mr Brighton seemed to study his hit-list, lips curving into a frown.
His gaze flicked to the boy, and then the paper.
He knew, I thought dizzily.
Mr Brighton knew the kid had been rummaging through his desk. But this was all about control. The teacher was using fear to control us, to manipulate our thoughts without having to get physical. He could have called out the boy right then, but Brighton was settling with mental torture instead. He just wanted to make my classmate squirm.
Without a word, the man folded up the piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket. “Mr Samuels, you are sweating,” our physics teacher said, mocking a frown. “Are you feeling okay?”
Kaz hesitated, tapping his shoe in a rhythm.
Being one of the smartest kids in the room definitely gave him an advantage.
I could already see the cogs turning behind half lidded eyes. Kaz was weighing each scenario, sorting them into positives and negatives.
The positives of answering would mean he was one step towards being in the clear, but there were two negatives.
Brighton would question him if he had left his seat, and then demand how his hit-list had magically moved across the desk.
Talking back was surely a rule-break, as well as outright lying.
Opening his mouth would get him in trouble, either way, and Kaz knew that.
So, he just nodded, forcing an even bigger smile.
Brighton’s lips pricked, his gaze straying on Kaz. “Good!” He cleared his throat, turning to the class. Kaz slumped in his seat with a sharp breath, resting his head in his arms. If Mr Brighton noticed, he didn't say anything. “Ignore the sweating. It should stop, along with hunger and thirst.”
Our teacher seemed to be able to manipulate everything in his vicinity.
Time.
Minds.
And slowly… contorting us into his own.
In the single second we were trapped inside, I felt days go by in a dizzying whirlwind that was like being permanently high. When I stood up, I felt like I was floating.
When I sat down, hours could go by, even days, and I wouldn't even feel them. I did try and count the days, initially, scribbling them on a scrap piece of paper, but somewhere around the thirteenth or fourteenth day, I lost count. The world around us never changed, in permanent stasis, and maybe that was sending us a little crazy.
After a while of being stuck at our desks, Mr Brighton allowed us to wander the classroom, as long as we stayed away from the door. I lay on the floor for days, counting ceiling tiles.
Sometimes, Imogen would join me.
I couldn't sleep, but I could pretend to sleep, imagining a world that was back to normal. I didn't feel hungry, but my brain did like to remind me of food at the weirdest times. I was aware of weeks passing us by, and then months.
I never grew hungry or tired, and my bodily functions were none existent.
I couldn't remember what pain felt like, or the urge to go to the bathroom. Even the concept of eating and drinking became foreign to me. Putting something in your mouth and chewing to sustain yourself?
That sounded odd.
The only thing that was changing was our slowly unravelling metal state.
I don't know how it started. Weekends and Tuesdays blended together. On one particular SaturTuesday, I was hanging upside down from my desk, watching Kaz and Imogen doodle on the whiteboard.
Kaz had a plan to escape, but after a while, his ‘plan’ to distract the teacher, had gone nowhere. After passing notes between us, the twelve of us had decided that we needed a weapon.
That was maybe a month ago. I wasn't sure what mind games our teacher was playing, but Kaz Samuels, who we were counting on to be our brains, was slowly falling under his spell. Their game had been going on for three days. The two of them were having a competition to see who could draw the craziest thing.
Mr Brighton was at his desk as usual, marking papers.
Imogen was drawing a weird looking ‘skateboard’ when the doors to the storage closet flew open.
Roman Hemlock appeared, and to my surprise, wasn't a hollow eyed shell.
He held up his hand in a wave, his lips forming a small smile.
“Yo.”
Roman’s reappearance was enough to snap us out of it. Kaz and Imogen stopped arguing, the rest of the class going silent. I sat up, blinking rapidly.
I was sure our collective consensus was that Roman Hemlock was dead.
Mr Brighton lifted his head and gave the boy a civil nod. “Mr Hemlock will be rejoining us,” he said, his gaze going back to marking papers. “Please make him feel comfortable. I'm sure he's very excited to be able to talk to you again.”
Instead of going to his desk, the boy immediately joined the others, snatching the marker off of a baffled looking Kaz, and drawing an overly artistic sketch of a penis. I wasn't sure what confused me more. The fact that Roman Hemlock had some serious artistic skills, or that he seemed suspiciously fine for someone who had been locked in the storage closet for two weeks with no social interaction.
With my last few lingering brain cells still clinging on, I studied the boy.
There were no signs of bruises or scratches.
His eyes seemed normal, not diluted or half lidded.
Unable to stop myself, I jumped off of my desk and joined the others, where Kaz was already interrogating the guy.
“WHAT–”
Imogen nudged him, and he lowered his voice, leaning against the wall. “What did he do to you?”
Roman shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Relax, dude. He didn't do anything to me.”
“Then what was that yell?” Imogen hissed.
The boy cocked his head. “Yell?”
“You yelled out,” Kaz folded his arms, narrowing his eyes. He was already suspecting one of us had been compromised– or worse, brainwashed into compliance. Kaz stepped closer, backing Roman into the desk. “You cried out when you first went in there,” he murmured, “So, what was that?”
Something in Roman’s eyes darkened. “Oh,” He said, his lip curling. “That.”
Kaz’s expression softened. He rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Yeah,” He whispered. “What did he do to you?”
Imogen shoved Kaz out of the way, shooting the boy a glare.
“You don't have to tell us, you know.” She said in a small voice. “If it's too traumatising, or he did something you don't want to talk about–”
Roman cut her off with a laugh, and suddenly, all eyes were on him.
The remaining nine of us were eagerly awaiting an explanation.
“Are you fucking serious?”
When Kaz didn't respond, Roman gathered us in a kind of hustle, the four of us grouped together. I felt like I was on the football field. Still, though, if the guy’s goal was to look as suspicious as possible, he was doing a great job.
Roman studied each of us, one eyebrow cocked. When Mr Brighton glanced up from his work, Roman shot him a grin, lowering his voice to a hiss.
“You seriously think our fifty year old physics teacher has been abusing me in the storage closet?
“Then why did you cry out?” Kaz demanded. “Did he hit you?”
Roman stuck out his bottom lip. “I'm pretty sure he didn't hit me.”
“So, you cried out for no reason.”
“Why are you covering for him?” Imogen poked his forehead. “Are you lobotomised?”
Roman wafted her hand away. “Stop prodding me, and no, I'm 100% good.” He backed away from us, like we were observers, and he was the zoo attraction.
“I won't be, if you keep treating me like I'm senile.”
“Okay, fine,” Kaz sighed. “Just answer one.”
“Shoot.”
“When you first went in there, you made an unmistakable sound of distress–”
“Not this again,” Roman groaned. “Of course I yelled! I was shoved into a pitch black storage closet on my own! What, did you expect me to stay silent?”
Kaz didn't look convinced, Imogen nervously sucking her teeth.
The boy leaned back, resting his head against the wall. His eyes flickered shut.
“Stop looking at me like that, there's nothing to tell you,” he murmured, “Brighton didn't do shit to me. I was just freaked out.” Prying one eye open, he fixed us with a glare. “I am so sorry for reacting like a human. Next time, I'll make sure to attack him and pin him to the ground.”
It's not like we believed him. I don't think Roman believed himself.
Something significant had changed in him. He was no longer argumentative, like half of his personality had been torn away. Roman set a precedent. Because once he was following instructions and walking around with a dazed smile, others began to follow. I can't remember how much time had passed since I thought about escaping.
Days and weeks and months had collapsed into fleeting seconds I only noticed when I wasn't playing games.
I wasn't aware of my own lack of sanity until I found myself, on a random SaturWednesday. I was laughing, gathered with the others on the floor, around a Monopoly board. The game had been going on for almost a week.
Reality hit me when I was laughing so hard I tipped back.
I can't remember why I was laughing. I think Imogen told a bad joke.
“Hand it over.” Roman, who was the King of Monopoly, held out his hand, demanding my last 250 bucks. I remember noticing his smile, my foggy brain trying to find hints that he was in some kind of trance, or being controlled by Brighton. But no. His smile was real.
Genuine.
To my shock and confusion, so was mine.
I wasn't in a trance or any type of mind manipulation. I was completely conscious.
Was this… Stockholm syndrome? I thought dizzily.
Was I enjoying this?
My thoughts were like cotton candy, disconnected and wrong, and they barely felt like my own. My gaze found Imogen and Kaz, the two of them sitting shoulder to shoulder, enveloped in the game.
They looked exactly the same, their hair, clothes, everything about them staying stagnant. It was them themselves who had drastically changed. I had never seen them look so carefree. Imogen was a hotheaded cheerleader, and Kaz was the smart kid who gave himself nosebleeds from overworking himself. But now, they were laughing, nudging each other, caught up in an inside joke. Blinking slowly, my gaze strayed on them.
Sure, it could be manipulation. It could be brainwashing. But it could also be real.
Kaz caught my eye, raising a brow.
“You good, Christa?”
Again, my smile felt real. Like I was having fun.
“Good. It's your turn.”
I picked up the dice, throwing them across the board.
Two sixes.
“I can already see her landing on one of my hotels.” Roman murmured. He sat up, resting his chin on his knees. “As the clear winner, I have a proposition.”
Ignoring him, I moved my piece– immediately landing on Park Place.
“I'll give you 500,” Roman announced, “If you give up New York avenue.”
“That's all I've got!”
Imogen nudged me. “Don't do it. If you give him New York Avenue, he only needs one more.”
“One thousand.” Roman waved the notes in my face.
“My final offer.”
When I reached for the cash, he held it back.
“New York Avenue, he said, with a grin.
“And your pride.”
Reluctantly, I handed my only property over.
Kaz threw the dice and moved his piece, and I half remembered we had an escape plan. “Community chest.” Kaz picked up a card. “Go straight to jail.”*
Roman spluttered. “That's karma,” he said, “For stealing from the bank.”
“You were stealing too!”
We had a plan.
We had…. a plan.
After discussing it in detail, Imogen and I were going to try and get onto Brighton’s laptop. It wasn't a perfect way to escape, but it was coherent.
So, what happened?
We were going to get out, so what… what was this?
Kaz’s earlier words hit me from months ago.
“Mr Brighton *is the thing keeping us here,”* he explained. “If we kill him, I'm like, 98% sure we’ll go back to normal.”
“Okay, and what if he dies and we’re *stuck?”* Imogen whisper-shrieked.
“I said 98% for a reason. Yes, there's a small chance his power will die with him. But there's a bigger chance that its effects will die when he does.”
Ren nodded slowly. “Right, and where exactly did you learn this information?”
“You'll feel a lot better if I don't answer that.”
“Okay.” Ren gritted his teeth. “So, we just need to find a weapon, right?”
“And don't tell Hemlock,” Kaz rolled his eyes. “I don't care what he says, that boy definitely had his mind fucked with. Hemlock is a liability. If we tell Roman, he tells Brighton, and we’re screwed.” Kaz nodded to me, then the others. “Keep your mouths shut.”
Presently, I wasn't sure the boy wanted to escape.
Slowly, I rolled my eyes over to Mr Brighton, who had joined us to play.
He was happily marking papers, taking part when he could.
It felt…right.
Not like we had been forced or manipulated, but more like he belonged. Part of me wanted to question why I felt like this, but I found that I didn't care. I didn't care that we were essentially dead, in a never ending stasis and stuck inside fifty two minutes past two. I stopped thinking about the outside world a long time ago.
I couldn't even remember my Mom’s face.
I made my decision, dazedly watching Imogen throw a chance card at Roman.
He flung one back, threatening to tip the board.
I wanted to stay.
In the corner of my eye, however, someone was still awake.
Ren, who had been sitting next to me, kept moving, further and further away. I didn't notice until he was inching towards our teacher, a box cutter clenched between his fist. There must have been a point when we found a box cutter, when we made it our weapon of choice.
But somewhere along the way, I think we just… lost the longing to want to escape.
I didn't see the exact moment the boy stabbed the blade into the man's neck, plunging it through his flesh, but I did feel a sudden jolt, like time itself was starting to falter and tremble.
Mr Brighton dropped to the ground, and I found my gaze flashing to the frozen clock.
Which was moving, suddenly.
Slowly creeping towards 2:53pm.
Something sticky ran underneath me, warm and wet.
Blood.
Blood that was running.
Roman’s half lidded eyes found mine, and he blinked, dropping the dice.
Like he'd been asleep for a long time.
2:53pm.
We were free.
The cool spring breeze grazing my cheeks was back. I could feel my own heartbeat, sticky sweat on my forehead.
And outside, Jessie Carson let out a gut-churning scream.
For a disorienting moment, I don't think any of us believed we were free.
Roman twisted around, his gaze on the doorway.
The piece of paper the teacher had stuck to the glass slipped away.
But Roman’s gaze was glued to the door, his cheeks paling.
His lips parted into a silent cry.
Following his eyes, I glimpsed a shadow.
A shadow that was frozen at 2:52pm.
2:53pm.
“Fuck.” Roman whispered, stumbling to his feet.
He turned to the rest of us, his eyes wild.
“Get DOWN!”
I dropped onto my knees, crawling under a desk, the classroom exploding around me.
2:54.
Blood splattered the walls, and I was crawling in it, stained in my friends.
2:55.
I grabbed Mr Brighton's hand, squeezing for dear life.
Roman joined me, his trembling fingers feeling for a pulse.
A gunshot rang in my ears, rattling my skull.
When Roman went limp next to me, I wrapped my arms around my teacher.
“Mr Brighton, say Stop.”
He was so cold…
“Mr Brighton! Take us back!”
Footsteps coming towards me.
2:56.

SOLD SOLD SOLD [WTS] SPK Lamia (Gen 4, micro milling)
Hey everyone, I have a fantastic one for sale today! I'm only selling this because I just received my gen 4 nature grip in the mail.
Timestamp, pics and videos: https://imgur.com/a/qFEC9Is
****SPK Lamia Gen 4
---SV: $775 SOLD SOLD SOLD
-Trade interest: Cortex XL or Eutsler Neutralizer. (If you are under 25 flair you will ship first. Once I receive it I will ship out the Lamia)
-Micro milling version.
-On bearings.
-Elmax blade steel.
-Second owner.
-Carried a decent amount but only cut tape and paper. I work from home so it didn't see much use.
-Factory edge.
-Light snails on the scales. Blade is near perfect as far as I can tell, I think the marks are from the stonewash finish. See pics and video for condition.
-Includes original pouch and stickers.
-Action is amazing, solid lockup and is centered.
-Has been disassembled for cleaning.
****PayPal F&F, will ship ASAP.
****'Yolo' or 'I'll take it' will take priority over DMs
Timestamp, pics and videos: https://imgur.com/a/qFEC9Is

Timestamp
Very low sodium G33 with unity mount, STS mount, box and papers. One of the springs on the unity rail mount is missing but it still functions. Could poach a spring from the STS mount to solve this. ADM also sells replacements. Asking $500 shipped for all of the above.
2x Classified Defense uppers, trued and milled for rail index pin (zev, mega, hodge etc rails). Do not need to use the index pin. Truing is meant to make your barrel extension and upper as flush as possible. One new one lightly used. Take both for $100.
Daniel Defense chrome BCG. These are supposedly made by microbest, DD stopped selling them sometime during COVID. Round count is about 500. Asking $90 Sold
ATPIAl/PEQ15 case, manual, pattern generators. $50
Prices are shipped and OBO, no trades at this time. Thanks for reading

What I Want: Dr. Bones Plan.
Also looking for Honeycomb Paper Jack O' Lantern A & B.
What I Have:
Caps
Invaders from Beyond Plans: Alien Blaster, AB Cryo Mag, AB Poison Mag, Alien Corpse Operating Bed, Alien Disintegrator, AD Auto Receiver, AD Cryo Receiver, AD High Powered Receiver, AD Poison Receiver, Alien Head Lamp, Alien Table, Alien Target Practice Poster, Alien Tube, Asteroid, Electro Enforcer, Freezing EE, Glowing Flatwoods Monster Lamp, Hazmat Suit Teal, Human Tube 1 & 2, Poisoned EE, Spiked EE.
Meat Week Plans: Bloody Curtain, Bloody Rug, Brahmin Grill, Cattle Flour Billboards, Decoy Ducks, Fossilized Megalonyx (Display Rack, Left Arm, Right Arm, Left Leg, Skull, Torso) Flamer Plan, Ground Meat Plushie, Grocery Cart Grill, Meat Cleaver Plan, Meat Tenderizer Plan, Pepper Shaker, Peppino Pig Plushie, Plastic Fruit Wreath, Punty Pig Plushie, Rib Plushie, Rotted Ground Meat Plushie, Rotted Rib Plushie, Rotted Steak Plushie, Shishkebob Plan, Spicy Tenderizer Mod, Super Mutant Diagram, Taxidermy Mutant Hound, Wasteland Hunter Backpack, Weenie Wagon
Mothman Equinox Plans: Cultist Adept Robes, Cultist Backpack, Cultist Enlightened Robes, Cultist Eventide Robes, Cultist Incarnate Helmet, Cultist Neophyte Hood, Cultist Neophyte Robes, Dried Wildflower Bouquet, Enlightened Lantern, Fluttering Moths, Fuzzy Enlightened Plushie, Fuzzy Mothman Plushie, Honeycomb Paper Mothman (Blue, Brown, Green and Red), Mothman Cultist Incense,
Random Plans: Blue Devil Plushie, Burning Barbed Sheepsquatch Club, Cowboy Hat, Cuckoo Clock, Brahmin Backpack, Gorilla Chair, Heavy Sheepsquatch Club, Large Ultracite Shard, Mounted Blue Devil Head, Nuka Cola Clock, Pink Brahmin Plushie, Sheepsquatch Club, Sheepsquatch Staff, Ski Sword Skate Blade, Stimpack Diffuser Recipe, Truckbed Trailer with Junk, Traveler's Wagon, Wendigo Colossus Plushie

So it’s vacation time, and I’m in a nice little cottage on the Outer Banks with a few hastily thrown together items for food prep, and I’m working on a list for a mobile kitchen. They try to provide essentials but it’s just inadequate. The first item on this list is a real frying pan- cast iron or carbon. A good knife is a given. What else though, assuming space isn’t a limitation but we’re not taking the kitchen sink?
Edit: the list, and we can customize to suit the circumstances. Thank you all!
Knife or knives (and paring or utility knife)
Sharpening stones (maybe, depending)
Cast iron skillet (or carbon steel) & lid
Saucepan & lid (4qt) and/or stockpot
Cutting board (plastic, cheap, easy)
Spatula, cooking spoon, tongs, vegetable peeler see
Kitchen sheers
Sheet pan
Microplane
Thermometer
Measuring spoons
Measuring cup ( 2c)
Oil (olive/canola)
Diamond Crystal salt & pepper mill
Sugar
Spices specific to whatever is planned
Butter
Ketchup, mustard, mayo, tartar sauce, hot sauce, condiments, etc.
Cloth towel, napkins, paper towels, etc.
Zip locks, Glad wrap

Coffee

French press
Sugar
Half & half
Pre ground coffee (50g per)

Margaritas

Tequila
Triple Sec/Cointreau/Grand Marnier.
Limes (plump, juicy)
Juicer
Shaker, glass, measuring thingie

"Can you get in there?" Kokichi asked, as he stood on the bed and tried hoisting Himiko into the vent.
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"Nyeh...yup, I think so," Himiko replied, grunting. Finally, she crawled through. "Got it!"
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"Nice! Now, pull me up, Monkey Buns!" Himiko grabbed a hold of Kokichi's hands. He pressed his feet against the wall and pulled himself up and into the vent.
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"Nyeh....you're heavy!" Himiko exclaimed.
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"Nee-heehee...are you fat-shaming me, HimiCocoa Bean?" Kokichi joked.
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"No...I'm obese-warning you," Himiko replied with a smirk. Kokichi laughed and kissed her cheek. Himiko turned around and led the way through the vent until they crept over to Kaede and Shuichi's room. Kokichi squeezed in between Himiko and the wall of the duct, looking through the ventilation grille with Himiko. Kaede and Shuichi were standing in front of each other with nervous expressions.
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"A-Are you sure you're ready for this, Shuichi?" Kaede asked.
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"Yeah...I think I can handle it," Shuichi replied with a firm nod. "Besides, there's nobody around here but us, and...to be honest, I think this is going to be fun!"
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"I'm glad you think so, Shuichi, because I really need this!" Kaede said. Kokichi and Himiko raised their eyebrows in shock at each other. It's as if Kaede was desperate! "Ready, Shuichi?"
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"Ready," Shuichi assured confidently. Kaede then reached into her backpack and pulled out two bundles of papers, handing one to Shuichi. Kokichi and Himiko exchanged quizzical glances. Suddenly, Kaede thrusted the back of her hand against her forehead and began speaking in a dramatic voice.

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"Kento, please! I may be just a gardener, always digging through dirt and worms, but...I'm more than that!" she said. "If you would just give me the chance to show you, you'd see that...that...we were meant for each other!" Kokichi and Himiko's eyes bugged out of their skulls.
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"What the hell is going on here?" Kokichi whispered in Himiko's ear.
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"I don't know," Himiko whispered back. "It's like they lost their minds, or something!"
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"I'm sorry, Shizuka...it's too late!" Shuichi replied, turning away from Kaede. "It was...a mistake to meet up with you here. I'm already in a relationship!"
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"What is this, some kinky roleplay shit?!" Kokichi whispered incredulously.
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"Forget about her, Kento!" Kaede continued. "She isn't good for you!" Kaede placed her hand on Shuichi's shoulder. "She hurts you...I can tell." Shuichi turned to her with a pained expression. "When you're around her, the smile that I always see on your face vanishes. Can't you see, Kento? You need to get away from her! Forget about Nanako! Come with me!"
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"I...I don't know," Shuichi said, running his hand through his hair. Kaede stared into Shuichi's eyes.
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"Do you want to know how I know we were made for each other?" she asked. She inched closer to Shuichi. "Kiss me."
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"Shizuka!" Shuichi exclaimed.
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"Kiss me, Kento," Kaede pleaded. "It's the only way...for you to see. For you to...forget about her." Kaede placed her hands on Shuichi's chest. "Kiss me, Kento. Please! " Shuichi leaned in closer to Kaede, who closed her eyes, waiting to swept away by Shuichi's kiss. Kokichi and Himiko craned their necks with excitement, wondering what was going to happen next. Himiko felt tiny tapping on her arm. She squinted through the darkness to see a spider skittering across her arm.
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"SPIDER!!!" she screamed, bursting right through the grille and startling Shuichi and Kaede. Himiko fell out from the vent and onto the bed, followed by Kokichi. "KOKICHI!!! GET IT OFF OF ME!!!" she screamed in terror as she wildly flailed her arms.
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"Bad spider!!" Kokichi said, brushing the spider off of her back, where it had skittered to in fear. "Leave Himiko alone!!" Then, Kokichi crushed it with his foot. He then checked to see if Himiko was okay. She was shaking violently as if an earthquake were happening inside her.
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"You okay, Monkey Buns?" Kokichi asked, holding the trembling Himiko in his arms.
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"N-Nyeh...s-s-spider...s-scary..." Himiko stammered in a small, shaky voice.
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"What are you two doing here?!" Kaede demanded angrily. Kokichi and Himiko turned their attention to Kaede and Shuichi.
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"Well...we happened to catch you two sneaking out, so we decided to follow you," Kokichi replied. "Now, I think it's our turn to ask what you two are doing here."
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"Ugh! That's none of your business, Kokichi," Shuichi replied in annoyance.
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"Yeeeaaahhh...you're right," Kokichi replied as a devious grin grew across his face. "It's about to be everyone else's business pretty soon! Nee-heehee!" Shuichi and Kaede's mouths hung agape.
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"You're seriously going to tell everyone that we're here?!" Kaede exclaimed.
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"You came here just to blackmail us?!" Shuichi cried.
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"N-No!" Himiko said. "We're here because...because...we're trying to stop you from making a big mistake!" Kaede and Shuichi exchanged puzzled glances.
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"Mistake? What are you talking about, Himiko?" Shuichi asked.
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"Um...well, when we saw you come to this hotel, we knew you were coming here to do...the Electrical Waltz! So we had to stop you!" Himiko explained.
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"'The Electrical Waltz?! ' " Kaede repeated with a strange smile.
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"Nee-heehee...that's Himiko's way of saying that you two were gonna get it on!" Kokichi said. Shuichi and Kaede's faces turned beet red.
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"N-No! That's wrong!" Shuichi stammered.
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"We didn't come here for that!" Kaede said.
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"Well, what else would you come here for?" Kokichi asked, raising a brow. Kaede and Shuichi sighed.
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"Looks like we have to tell them, Shuichi," Kaede said. Shuichi nodded reluctantly.
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"Okay," he said. "But, you two better keep this a secret, okay?"
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"Fiiine! Just tell us already!" Kokichi sighed impatiently, rolling his eyes.
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"I needed Shuichi to help me with a scene from a play at school that I'm auditioning for," Kaede explained, holding up her bundle of paper, which Kokichi and Himiko could now see was a script. Kokichi and Himiko exchanged incredulous glances.
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"Seriously?! " Kokichi exclaimed.
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"Yeah, the play is called, 'Green Thumbs and Cold feet,' " Kaede continued. "It's about a gardener who falls madly in love with a shy boy, who has a hard time standing up to his abusive girlfriend. I need this part in the play because a well-renowned Broadway actor is going to see the performance, and, if I win the role of Shizuka, I might have a shot at an acting career!"
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"But, you're the Ultimate Pianist," Himiko said. "Don't you wanna be a world-famous piano player?" Kaede sighed.
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"Yeah, but...I dunno, I wanted to try out acting, in case...for some reason my piano career doesn't pan out," she said.
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"Okay, but why come here to act out a scene from a play?" Kokichi asked.
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"Well, this scene that Shuichi and I are currently working on takes place in a hotel," Kaede replied.
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"And, I didn't feel comfortable acting out a scene back at home," Shuichi said, his cheeks light pink with embarrassment. "It was just too weird for me to act in front of Kaito, Miu, and everyone else, basically. So, we came here for privacy, and hoping that it would make the whole scene more authentic."
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"Sooo...you two aren't gonna do it, then?" Kokichi asked.
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"No!" Kaede said.
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"Welp, Himiko and I will, then!" Kokichi said.
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"NO, WE'RE NOT!!!" Himiko cried, her face bright red.
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"Hahahahahaaa! That's the face I love to see, Monkey Buns!" Kokichi laughed, playfully pinching Himiko's cheek.
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"Speaking of buns...I love your hair, Himiko!" Kaede said, finally noticing Himiko's hair. "And your outfit! You look really cute!"
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"Nyeh...thanks," Himiko said. "Kokichi did my hair!" Kaede's eyes widened.
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"Really?!" she exclaimed. Himiko nodded. "Think you could do my hair, too, Kokichi?"
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"Pffft...isn't that what Shuichi is for," Kokichi scoffed. "My hands are only available for the Supreme Lady!"
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"But, I don't even know how to do hair," Shuichi said.
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"Well, learn! Or you'll end up like that wishy-washy Kento in that dumb play," Kokichi said. "You'll have a girlfriend who'll abuse you just because you didn't braid her hair!"
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"That's not gonna happen," Kaede assured, smiling at Shuichi. "I'll love Shuichi, no matter what!"
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"Well, how nice for you," Kokichi said sarcastically. "Aaanyhoo, I guess we'll leave you to your stupid play. C'mon, Himiko, let's go."
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"Nyeh...sorry for spying on you guys, and barging in," Himiko said apologetically. Kaede and Shuichi smiled at her.
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"It's okay," Kaede said.
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"We know you guys meant well," Shuichi added. "Well...maybe just you, Himiko."
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"Heeey! I meant well, too!" Kokichi said. "I kept your future baby from having to be raised by you two saps!"
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"Whatever you say, Kokichi," Shuichi and Kaede muttered simultaneously. With a cheeky grin, Kokichi led Himiko out of Shuichi and Kaede's room, and back to their own.
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"Welp, since we paid for a room, we might as well spend the night here," he said to Himiko.
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"Okay, but...we're really not going to do the Electrical Waltz, are we?" Himiko asked.
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"Naaah," Kokichi replied. "And, you know what? Since you won't agree to satisfy me, you'll be the one sleeping on the couch!"
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"What?!" Himiko screeched. "No fair!!"
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"Hahahaha...I was just kidding, Himiko," Kokichi said. Himiko sighed.
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"Nyeh...sometimes it's so hard to tell when you're joking," she said.
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"That's okay, babe," Kokichi said, then kissed her lips. "Your reactions make it all worthwhile. I'll take the couch, and you can take the giant-ass bed, 'kay?"
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"Okay. Are you sure you'll be okay on the couch?" Himiko asked.
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"Yuppers!" Kokichi said. "Unless you wanna sleep on the couch instead?" Himiko warily looked at the bed, which was underneath a vent. She shuddered, thinking back on the spider.
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"Nyeh...actually, Kokichi...can we both sleep on the couch?" she asked. Kokichi shrugged.
​

"Yeah, I guess that's okay," he replied. He pulled the blanket from the bed. Himiko sat down on the couch, pulling her shoes off. Kokichi grabbed the remote for the TV and sat down next to Himiko. He laid down with Himiko on top of him, then pulled the blanket over both of them and turned the TV on, watching until they fell asleep peacefully.

Chapter 29 - The Arcadia
Previous Chapter
Amanda yawned as she walked into the mess, idly scratching her shoulder. The rest of the crew was already assembled, yammering away over the destruction they’d spent much of the day wreaking upon the floating cloud of metal.
Josh nodded to Amanda and handed her a plate. “You look like you just woke up.”
“Took a nap. When it comes time to start doing the analysis at each point, I’m going to be the busiest one here.” Amanda took the plate and wandered over to the serving counter. “Best to catch up on my sleep now. Did I miss anything exciting?”
“Well, Proxima will officially know everything going on here in roughly 28 days.” Ma’et was digging into a plate full of Lasagna as she answered between bites. “Par and I got our full and complete report loaded up on the e-beacon. Every single detail about every new species we’ve met here. We sent it off right after the fireworks. Feathers had a ton of fun reducing big parts of the debris field here into slag.”
Amanda for her part went with Fettuccine with a side of steamed, buttered broccoli. A small part of her wanted to explain that Proxima was already aware of everything going on, but she knew she was forbidden to mention the FTL transmitter hidden in her terminal. And even if they were aware of the actions here, the low bandwidth meant they had almost no real details so the beacon was still wholly necessary. As she took her seat she glanced around at the assembled crew. “Do I even want to know how much of the Captain’s bank account you all went through with this little exercise?”
Alex rolled his eyes as he bit into his own dinner. After chewing and swallowing quickly, he pointed the piece of garlic-buttered bread at Amanda. “First off, they were mostly just railgun rounds. Cheap and easy to replace. We only fired off a handful of flak so we could show her the effects it’d have in zero-g, and how it messes with Radar. And not a single missile. So don’t even start on nickel-and-diming us about this.”
“Wait, Captain.” Trix looked up guiltily at this. “You said not to worry about the cost because you’re rich?”
Amanda snorted at that, and stabbed her fork into the pasta. “Not yet he’s not.”
“Hey. I own an FTL-capable ship. Exactly how many individuals can make the same claim?” Alex shot back defensively.
Amanda took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. She swallowed and responded, “In all of Sol and Proxima? Entire ships owned by a single individual separate from a company? Probably two or three dozen people, in total.” Another forkful of pasta, and she looked down at it briefly then met the Captain’s gaze. “Yes, you still own the ship. But do you need me to remind you how much you still owe Terrafault for the remodel we did for you?”
Alex muttered something under his breath, while Trix looked around in confusion. “Is that good or bad?”
Min swallowed a bite of her own meal and shook her head at Trix. “Ships themselves aren’t difficult to get. There’s tens of thousands of individuals who own their own ships. What’s rare is FTL capability on a privately-owned ship. Ninety-nine point nine nine some odd percent of all FTL capable ships are owned by major corporations or the military. It’s not a thing to just ‘buy’ a Euler cannon. So normally that’s a mark of extreme wealth.”
Trix glanced down at her own plate. The pasta was liberally covered with red flecks of some kind of spice that reminded her of the ‘hot sauce’ from the other day. “So how did the Captain get one then, if he’s not rich?”
Alex smiled innocently. “Blackmail.”
Trix stared at him for several seconds, then turned to Ji. “I can’t actually tell if he’s serious or not.”
“He is. It’s just not nearly as simple as all that.” Ji took a drink of water, then sprinkled some more parmesan on his lasagna. “Give ‘er the full story, Alex. You’ve never been shy about telling it in the past.”
Alex nodded, and wiped his lips with a napkin. “Yeah, well… okay. There’s gonna be some bits here you probably won’t get, on account of being another species.”
“Hasn’t stopped me from understanding you all yet.”
“Fair point. But you guys mate for life. That is very much not standard for Humans.” Trix nodded at this. It was bizarre and honestly kind of horrifying to think about, but she knew that the permanence of her species’ unions was uncommon.
“So what happened is, I grew up with just me and my mother. We don’t have Teffs but Humans still live in colonies with other people because, social species. So just the two of us for my entire childhood. I grew up in a colony station near Velger IV. Didn’t really make friends back then, so mostly it was just me and mom while I grew up. I asked what happened to my dad, but she never would tell me. Just said ‘He left, never came back’ every time I asked. I thought she was upset about it but turns out there was never really any love there.”
“Anyway, when I turned 18, I decided to join up with the Proxima military. Took off to recruitment while Mom went back to work.I had all kinds of grand dreams about becoming a decorated spaceship captain. About rising through the ranks to command a battleship. And it all went absolutely to crap.”
“You are a spaceship captain, though.” Trix pointed out.
“Yup. But not a military one. I made it three months into boot before I realized I couldn’t stand it. I’m pretty bad with extremely rigid structure and zero flexibility, and for some stupid reason as a kid I didn’t realize that meant that wouldn’t mesh well with the Military. After a few months I realized it’d get worse, and that was that. I quit the military but didn’t really know what to do next. My plan was to spend a year or two on Nexus Station while figuring things out. That didn’t last long either.”
Trix continued to eat as she listened, and nodded for him to continue.
“About a month and a half after I left the military, I got a message that there was an accident. My mom had passed away at work. The company sent me a bunch of cash for ‘condolences’ but it didn’t last long. When I realized I was completely and totally alone, I kind of had a little breakdown. It took me a bit to get my shit back together, and when I did that money had ran out. I wasn’t sure what to do next when I got a net message. From Mom.”
“The message was one of those ‘If you’re reading this then I’ve died’ things. In it she laid out the truth. My dad was an exec at the Proxima-Sirius staryards. They met, hooked up, then split. The message made it fairly clear it was just a fling but regardless I knew who my dad was. I worked a bunch of odd jobs and saved up a bit to get fare to transit from Nexus to the P-S Corporate station.”
Trix stared at Alex, trying to imagine the loneliness he’d been through. No matter what, a Teff was family. You could lose one or both parents and still be cared for, comforted, and have plenty of others around you to help you through things. Only a scant handful had ever lost their entire Teff and been entirely alone. To her, it was an unimaginable sort of nightmare.
“Once I was on the station, I found my dad pretty quick. Only he wasn’t just an exec. He was now CEO and co-owner.” Alex smiled, with absolutely zero joy on his face now. “And that opened up a huge can of worms.”
“A huge what?”
“Human expression. Means ‘it caused a ton of trouble’.” Alex nibbled on his garlic bread as he relayed the story. “See, my dad WAS just an exec when he met my mom. But then he got married to the daughter of the owner of the company. That’s how he rose in rank. And the two of them had kids, but each of them favored different kids and there was a big power struggle going on between the two parents and the kids they favored. There was, to say the very least, a ton of drama happening between different executives who saw this as a means to get ahead in the company. And suddenly in the midst of all this drama - boom. I show up.”
“Now, for a very, very long time we’ve had the technology to be able to compare genetics and determine if someone’s actually related or not. So when I show up, the data all shows that yup - that’s my dad. No question there. We get into a meeting, I explain what happened to mom, give him a brief rundown of my life until then, just bringing him up to speed more or less. He asks me to leave for a day and when I come back the next day, there’s several dozen lawyers there. They’re all freaking out about me, about not letting his wife find out he had a kid, quizzing me about every detail of my story. They're asking me why I’m here, what do I want, why didn’t I show up before, really grilling me bad. One of ‘em keeps trying to shove papers my way asking me to sign something but I’m way too freaked out by everything going on. The questioning continues and I’m not thinking straight and eventually I just blurt out without even thinking ‘I’m trying to become a starship captain and I want to explore space!’”
Everyone at the table had heard the story before, but his reaction still managed to get some chuckles out of the crew. Trix couldn’t imagine why. This whole story was just too bizarre from her point of view to even approach humor.
“Eventually we arranged a settlement. Legally, I’m no longer his son. I have about five hundred pieces of paper and countless digital copies of that paper exist out there that say that I am not related to that man at all. I am also under a restraining order to never dock at the Proxima-Sirius Corporate station for any reason. In exchange for all that, I was given full and formal ownership of the Arcadia. Which, at the time, was a mostly-finished FTL-capable yacht designed for rich space tourists. Zero armaments. Particle shielding only. Full of all kinds of fancy amenities that rich people use that most people wouldn’t give a damn about. Worth a very, very small fortune but worth FAR less than an ownership stake in the P-S Shipyards.”
“I think they were expecting me to sell it or something, because when I finally got the ship I started realizing how expensive it is to maintain. Docking costs at stations and planets aren’t free. Maintenance costs aren’t cheap. The Euler Cannon’s core has limited uses before it has to be replaced and that’s EXPENSIVE. And I was a stupid 18 year old so of course I blew a dozen uses of the core on stupid bullshit. Very quickly I’d started to realize how far over my head I actually was.”
“That’s horrible!” Trix exclaimed, suddenly.
“Yeah, it was a real wake-up call. Cores are pricey but I was able to...”
“No, all that stuff with your family!” Trix stood up suddenly. “Your father found out he had a son he abandoned you? JUST LIKE THAT?” She was yelling and she didn’t know why.
Min reached over and put a hand on hers. “Trix, we’re Humans. We live our lives differently.”
“She’s right though.” Josh interjected. “It’s still pretty horrible.”
Alex looked between the two and just sighed. “It is what it is. I can’t change the past and I can’t change that man. In the end, it put me here. So it’s not like I can complain.”
Trix sat down and stared at the plate in front of her. “I just can’t even really wrap my head around it. On Kiveyt, we’re all raised together. If something happens to our family, the Teff is there for us. If anything happens to the Teff then we can join the Teff responsible for us. We aren’t alone, ever. But when you found your dad he just…” She bit down on her lip.
“I mean… I didn’t know him growing up. I don’t know him now. As far as I’m concerned, nothing changed for me.” Alex rocked back and forth slightly on the chair as he spoke. “To get back to the story, I spent a few years doing in-system courier work but that ended up being boring, and didn’t pay for shit. After Josh and Par joined up, we did some tours of particularly nice looking spots for rich tourists which went really well until pirates slipped someone onboard and the ship was nearly scuttled. Took every last penny the three of us had to get her fixed, but the jobs had dried up. We thought we were completely sunk when Terrafault reached out to us.”
Amanda had finished her meal and was casually sipping at a drink as she listened in on the story. “Honestly it was a surprise they didn’t reach out to you sooner. There were active orders to recruit any and all independent pilots we could, and the fact that you owned a ship should have made you the most attractive prospect available.”
“They might have. Honestly back then I was absolutely shit at checking my messages on the ‘net. God only knows what I missed.” Alex mused.
“Why was he an ‘attractive prospect’?” Trix was trying very, very hard to concentrate on the story and NOT think about the horrific way these Humans treated their family.
“Well, at the time Terrafault was being beaten to nearly every decent survey location out there.” Amanda kicked off her shoes with a clatter on the floor. “Our fault really. We grew just a bit too fast and made a fair amount of enemies in the private mineral sector. Apparently some of our competition had bribed a few individuals in the Proxima government. Corporations aren’t allowed to explore freely, we have to actually notify the authorities of our plans. Whenever we’d submit a request to survey a system, by the time we received approval we’d arrive there to find someone else had laid claim to the minerals.”
“That’s the downside to the immense bureaucracy that infests government.“ Alex couldn’t keep the snide note from his voice. “It’s entirely too easy to throw money and weight around in places where nobody can see and end up getting screwed over because of it.”
“ANYWAY. The Captain being an independent pilot meant he can go wherever he wants without having to file the same paperwork a corporation does.” Amanda glared at Alex and kicked one of her shoes over at him. “So we were able to kill two birds with one stone. We continued to submit survey paperwork, but this time for junk systems to force our competition into spending money to find nothing. Meanwhile we fed the Captain the data to good systems, he goes out and does the survey, the claims belong to him and he sells them to us. Win-win.”
Alex made a face back at Amanda. “Since I’m not TECHNICALLY a Terrafault employee, I don’t have to abide by the same rules they do either. Which gives me a hell of a lot more freedom than their pilots.”
“When you put it like that it almost makes them sound like slaves.” Amanda shot back. “You and I both know they enjoy the same freedoms you do.”
“Oh, sure. Freedom to fly whenever the company has filled out the paperwork to fly to, and nowhere else. See, Trix, this is why Corporations are terrible. They restrict what you can or can’t do, where you can or can’t go, all in the name of profits.” Alex gestured around him. “If I was an ‘official’ Terrafault employee do you think we’d be here now? Hell no.”
Amanda’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the Captain. “If not for the corporation and its resources, you’d still be ferrying people thousands of times richer than you around to ooh and ahh at nebulas and ice rings. And that’s BEST CASE scenario, worst case the ship’d be sold and you’d be off doing god knows what with the cash.” She turned to Trix immediately. “What he’s not telling you is that the reason you were able to have all that fun earlier, the reason this ship even HAS weapons in the first place, is because he took out a massive loan from Terrafault in order to properly equip this tub for expeditions like this one. Without us, he’d still be flying an unarmed, unarmored yacht.”
Alex bit his tongue as he recognized the old arguments that Amanda used to rile him up. “That much, at least, is true. After we fixed the Arcadia up and Terrafault contacted us we did a major refit. That’s when we got proper ablative armor, pinpoint shielding, launcher bays, and the Fabber. Though the main gun is military surplus. There was a small colony near Sol that pissed off the bear and got ‘integrated’ for their troubles. The few military ships that escaped were cannibalized for credits, and so we picked up the gatling railcannon on the cheap.”
Trix glanced between Alex and Amanda. “So the Captain’s independent, but works with Terrafault. But he took out a huge loan from you guys to refit the ship. And he works for you to pay it back?”
“Right on the money.” Alex stood up and walked over to the bev dispenser, refilling his cup. “Whenever we do a mission I get sell all mineral claim rights back to Terrafault. They reimburse us for expenses incurred, plus any discoveries we made during the mission. I split the cash with the crew, set aside some for maintenance costs and an emergency fund, and put the rest back into the loan. It’s actually not that bad. We’ve been doing these runs for Terrafault for about two decades now, and at the rate we were going I could have paid off the ship refit in another six or seven years.”
“‘Could have?’” Ma’et glanced over at the Captain. “I thought that was still the plan?”
“Not anymore. Think about it, Ma’et. Remember the huge bonus from finding Guylevo? The money from surveying a habitable planet was nothing compared to what waits for us back home. SIX confirmed first contacts, four of which are peaceful, and one of which is filled with the most incredible people out there.” Alex took a long drink from his cup, and gestured towards Trix. “After this mission, you’ll all have enough money to buy yachts like the Arcadia without blackmail at all!”
Trix shot to her feet and glared over at the Captain. “How can you even joke about that? About being abandoned like that?”
Alex’s mood sobered as he recognized her anger over the story. “I joke about it because what else can I do? As far as he’s concerned, I was just an inconvenience who showed up at the worst possible time. There’s nothing I can do to change that, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.” He set the cup down and walked around the table. “When my mom passed, I didn’t know about any other family. So instead I decided to make a new family.” He gestured to the others here. “Granted, it’s pretty dysfunctional. But I’m pretty happy with things now.”
Trix looked around at the others, then sat back down. “I’m sorry. What you described is just really upsetting. Family is everything back on Kiveyt. We don’t treat it lightly like you humans do out here.”
Josh shook his head, and stood up. “Don’t lump us all in there. Many of us take family just as seriously. Not a single person on this ship would sell off their kid, no matter what the circumstances. Humanity has some pretty shitty members, but we have our good ones too.”
Trix felt her wings droop as she realized she spoke without thinking. “I didn’t mean to… imply you were all like that.”
“You didn’t.” Alex walked over to the door and finished draining the glass, before setting it down on the counter next to the exit. “It’s a fact that there’s good humans and bad ones. In fact, I’m more than a bit worried about what happens when our bad apples find their way to your planet. Keep that in mind when you meet people outside of the crew. Everyone here is good people, but the universe is a pretty cruel place all things considered. There’s no shortage of people who are exactly as bad as Matriarch Kyshe thought we were. Anyway, story’s told and we’re starting the new shift rotation tomorrow. I’m going to get some sleep now. Night gang.”
As he left, Trix slumped down against the table. “Did I upset him?”
Min reached over to lay a sympathetic hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You did nothing wrong. Dealing with the past means dredging up all kinds of memories, both good and bad. It’s something we all deal with.”
“He usually really likes telling that story,” Josh commented. “Especially when it gets to the bit about when we were attacked by pirates. He normally goes into a lot of detail and exaggerates that bit.”
Trix glanced up at that. “I thought that part WAS an exaggeration.”
“Nope. Really happened.” Josh leaned back slightly, putting his fingers on his chin. “Actually, Trix, I think you ARE the reason he’s like that. You were more upset on his behalf than anyone else I’ve seen him tell that story to. That’s not a bad thing,” Josh added quickly. “Being upset for him is a nice gesture.”
“It’s just such a shock.” Trix took a deep breath and sat back up from where she was slumped against the table. “I’d heard other species don’t stay together like we do. Everyone HEARS of that, it’s on the news and they mention it in schools. But knowing it happens then hearing about someone just… abandoned like that?”
“It’s more common than any of us would like.” Josh nodded and stared down into his own drink. “Truth be told the Captain has things a lot easier than most abandoned kids. Not to downplay what happened to him, but most never find their other parent. And for those that do, the other parent usually has major problems of their own. It ends badly for everyone involved.”
“How do you guys deal with that?” Trix glanced around at everyone assembled. “I mean, not you personally but like… Humans.”
Ma’et responded in a quiet voice. “Everyone deals with it their own way. There’s all kinds of circumstances for people. Some people deal with it well. Others not so well. There’s no single set path for us, nothing that tells us all how to handle the tough times. We just do the best we can.”
Min glanced around, the somber mood had spread to the entire group. “You know what can help? Music.” She tugged on Trix’s shoulder. “C’mon, Trix. Let’s go bunk down. I’ll send over a few songs you can listen to.”
—--
The liquid filling the room had a sickly green tint to it, and the Inquisitor’s snout wrinkled in disgust. It waddled forward, to where the Interpreter Sixth was finishing his feast - upon one of his own crew that had displeased him. It was a show of strength, the Inquisitor knew. One it had seen many, many times before. And would see, many times again.
As the Interpreter finished his meal he turned to the intruder upon his ship. “So, Inquisitor. What news have you brought?”
“News from the Holy One. The Star-Thieves have been seen again.” The Inquisitor kept the contempt from its voice. Interpreters always thought themselves to be grander and of more import than they truly were. In the end though they were simply another instrument of the Will of the Heavens. As were all Tanjeeri.
“Hmph.” The Inquisitor lifted himself up on his legs, then let himself fall. “And why do you bear this news? Why is a Voice not here to bring a commandment?”
“I am here because the Holy One has instructed me to be.” A long, thin arm protruded from the Inquisitor’s robe. “I am here because the Thieves have angered the Heavens themselves, and the Holy One has seen it.” A large, red stone rested within the Inquisitor’s palm.
The sight of the stone immediately caused the Interpreter to freeze, as he glared down at the thin, whip-like creature before him. “Is the Holy One calling for a crusade?”
“He would, yes, but we have no knowledge of the Thieves. Are they one or are they many? Where do they reside? We have seen them in the presence of the Smooth ones, and we know they reside in the Dry with the other infidels. And they have gone to the odd ones, and visited their world.” The red stone disappeared back into the robe, and the Inquisitor shook their head. The cowl drifted in the murky water. “The Holy One’s sight is unmatched, but the Thieves cloak themselves in the shadows of the Starlight. We cannot rely on sight alone in our pursuit of them.”
“No sight. And the Void has no currents upon which we can sniff them out.” The Interpreter slowly spun around the room, glancing at the instruments and panels around him. “Where were the Thieves last seen?”
“The Holy One saw them returning to the Dry station where the Smooth ones first saw them. Then they were seen where the Star-Heart was found within the infidels’ ship.” The Inquisitor withdrew an etched tablet.
“Then we simply assault that star again. We crash down upon the Thieves as a wave, and drag them under.”
The Inquisitor shook its head. “The Holy One watched the Thieves as they left the Odd ones’ world. They are swift, and cannot be caught so easily.”
The Interpreter grew silent, croaking softly as he thought. “They left the Odd ones world. They returned to the dry station and the dead ship among the Stars. Would it not stand to reason they’d return to the Odd ones home as well?”
“It would. But the Holy One has seen that we will not move against the Odd ones.”
A long tongue snaked out of the Interpreter’s mouth, as he released a torrent of bubbles into the murky water. “A pity, that. The Odd ones taste so good. Well then our path seems quite clear to me.”
“It does?” The Inquisitor glanced skeptically at the Interpreter. The thought of this bulbous indulgent being able to offer up any insight seemed ludicrous, and it was all that the Inquisitor could do not to laugh derisively at that.
“It does. The Holy One says we cannot catch the Thieves in the open. We cannot move against the Odd ones. We must take the Dry station, then. It is the only option left. We take it and we wait for them to come close…” A claw dragged across the metal floor. “And then we take the Thieves.”
The Inquisitor hesitated at that. “But they may not return to the Dry station, and if they do the Smooth ones have left it already.”
The Interpreter released a short, sharp laugh at this. “Then yours is a fools’ errand! If we cannot catch them at the Odd ones, if we cannot catch them in the open, and we know not where else to look for them, then we must turn to the only place we know they have been. We must take the station! To do anything else would require knowledge we do not possess. Tell me I am wrong!”
The Inquisitor scowled furiously in its hood. The damnable creature had a point. “I will not tell you that you are wrong. Nor will I say that you are right. That is not why I am here. What I will do is relay your response to the Holy One, as is my job. I will return to the Inquisitory. YOU will do nothing more until a Voice returns.” It wished, so greatly, to be able to tell off the disgusting Interpreter but it could not. Its duty was clear. But it took great pleasure in turning around and leaving at that. To leave without being dismissed was a slight, at most, but to a self-important creature like the Interpreter the slight would rankle.
As the Inquisitor left, a page drew near and bent down before the Interpreter. “Your orders, Holy Interpreter?”
Do nothing more? That worm knew NOTHING! He was the Interpreter, and it was his decisiveness and cunning that had granted him this position. “The trap will be set. There is no other course. But we must chase the Thieves into it. Send a small Claw against them, in the system where the Star-Heart was found. We will chase them, and they will flee from us as all do. And when they return to the Dry station, we will be waiting.”
“By your will, Interpreter.”
—--
Trix glanced out the window at the asteroid cluster. From here, it was just a group of shining stars. Unlike other stars, these would occasionally flicker or dim as they’d rotate. But on the screen in front of her their true nature was revealed, as massive chunks of rock floating in space. Chunks of rock which apparently were worth untold amounts of money. “You guys should have brought some of the M’rit out here instead of me.”
“And why would we have done that?” Par replied. The two of them shared the watch shift today, and the digital being’s lack of a physical presence made the bridge feel empty.
“Well that’s where all our mines are, so I assume they’d find these rocks a lot more interesting than I would.” Trix amused herself by spinning around in the Captain’s Chair. She didn’t actually like sitting in it that much, since it wasn’t designed for a winged species - she had to fold her wings around her in a less-than-comfortable manner to sit in it. Still, she had to admit it was nice to look down on all the other consoles.
“Perhaps. But then, you would be back at home tending to the fields. Would you prefer that?”
Trix sighed heavily. “You’re so damn boring to argue with. You always make really great points.”
“I do. Which is why arguing with me is pointless.” Par sent a remote in to hover near Trix. “You were warned that not all of this mission would be enjoyable.”
“I know. Shut up.” Trix stood up and stretched out her wings, then stomped back down to her seat. It was far, far more comfortable - especially now that Ji and Min had redesigned it for her anatomy. “The mission is fine. I just didn’t realize we’d be spending so much time waiting.”
“If you’d like, we could watch the salvage bot.” The main screen changed as Par spoke, and the image of the robot came up on the screen. The bot itself seemed motionless as it perched upon the side of the asteroid. A large pipe jutting out of it was spewing a constant stream of dust into the air. It was fascinating to watch as the glittering minerals sprayed off into the distance.
“I mean it looked great for a while, but it got boring fast. I’ve been spoiled. It’s your fault, you know.” Trix ignored the screen and just tilted the seat back as far as it would go.
“How is it my fault?”
“Not you specifically, Par. Humans' fault. You guys introduced me to all those shows. All that music. All that media. You introduced a poor little farm girl to human culture and now she’s been horribly ruined by it.”
The entire planet had gone bonkers over the Humans’ music. But Trix knew that they hadn’t even scratched the surface. The shows she’d watched and been introduced to since she joined the crew… those were where she’d absolutely gotten hooked.
Par’s remote floated up in front of Trix, waggling a holographic finger admonishingly at her. “I fear for your planet when our libraries become public. You’ve had access to less than a thousandth of all the media we have produced over the centuries, and you’re hopelessly addicted.”
Trix shoved the metal sphere aside. “Yeah well can’t blame us for that. We never really had a chance to develop anything like that stuff.”
Par pulled up a number of images on his displays. “Nonsense. Your civilization had plays and theater, even before the Bunters arrival.”
“Sure. But we never had ANYTHING like your shows and animation!” Trix couldn’t help but grin as she slowly spun in her seat. “I still don’t even understand how anyone could spend all that time drawing the same picture over and over again, but just a little bit differently each time.”
“Well, it’s a job like any other. People do the things they enjoy and that they’re good at.”
“I guess so. Is that what that post-scarcity thing Amanda was talking about means? We’ll have time to do just… whatever? Make drawings? Make music?”
“Not necessarily. Humanity has produced media in multiple forms long before we achieved post-scarcity. To us, cultural distractions like music and video are necessary. For the artists, they’re self-expression. For the consumers, they’re recreation. Both recreation and expression are quite necessary for our species.”
“I guess. We need recreation as well, but we socialize a lot for that.”
“Your society places different emphasis on different types of recreation. That’s natural. You’ve grown on a different planet, with different circumstances. Meaning that even when your society does achieve post-scarcity, there is no guarantee you’ll become just like us. I am sure that you and your people will have your own, unique experience unlike any other.”
“It’s hard to even imagine. Enough stuff being made that anyone can have anything at all without work. Humanity living like that seems so impossible to me.”
The sphere settled down on the console next to Trix. “That is only partially accurate. While it is true that all basic needs are met without requiring labor, luxuries in many forms are still desired in great enough quantities that mass production cannot entirely keep up. Additionally, labor is still an important part of the Human experience, as it can fulfill many needs.”
“Like what? If you can just live without doing anything, why bother working?”
“I’m unsure if your species has a similar drive, but the urge to be useful is strong within many Humans. For some it is important to ‘leave their mark’ on the world, for others they use their workplace to achieve a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. And for others it fulfills needs to socialize with others. It is well-documented that the motivational drive to make accomplishments is a healthy part of the human psyche. Without it, any number of psychological and behavioral issues manifest.”
Trix shook out her wings, and picked at a couple of the feathers that stuck together. “I dunno. We work to live. If we don’t have to work, I’m not sure what we’d do.”
“That’s an issue that your people will likely have to face. When bereft of the need to work, what replaces that part of your life? For a great many Humans the desire to contribute something of value to the world is a difficult impulse to resist. For others, another extremely strong motivator is the desire to succeed amongst one’s peers. I believe this motivation is shared amongst our two people.”
“Yeah. Okay, that part sounds like us. Everyone wants to show off in front of their friends.” Trix closed her eyes and reached out in front of her, grasping at the air where her Aircar’s handlebars would be. “And sure, I could imagine a ton of people wanting to race the challenges if they didn’t have to work. But why would they do OTHER jobs?”
“If you accomplish something, even if that something is incredibly minor, would that not put you as more successful to someone who simply lives accomplishing nothing?”
“Huh. I mean… I guess so.” She opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s still weird to think about.”
“It IS quite premature at this point. Still, if you look at the situation as a whole it is a good problem to have.”
Trix glanced down at the silver ball. “What do you mean by that?”
“Progress is natural. Technology exists to make lives easier. As your species grows more technologically advanced, lives become easier. Post-scarcity is inevitable. Unless something were to happen to your species such as being destroyed from within or without. Or, if your species were to be completely subsumed by another. In that light, wouldn’t reaching post-scarcity and trying to determine how your species handles it be a good problem to have?”
“That’s kind of a bleak way to look at it. ‘Be happy you’re not dead or slaves’ seems kind of macabre.” Trix glanced over at the system display. Still nothing out of the ordinary. “But I guess it’s a valid point.”
“Unfortunately when dealing with planning for the future of an entire species, it’s a point that needs to be addressed. There’s an ancient human theory called the ‘Great Filter’ which was used for an extremely long time to attempt to determine why Humanity hadn’t found intelligent life amongst the stars. The gist of it was that life must be commonplace but intelligent life was rare, and the theory attempted to explain why that may be. Self destruction was among the reasons listed that a species would fail to reach space and make contact, and unfortunately on at least two exoplanets we have discovered that seemed to have happened.”
Par’s sphere floated up and the image on the display shifted to two large images of planets. “In both instances we found evidence of pre-spaceflight worlds that had at one point contained life, but the presence of radioactive isotopes and the damage wrought indicated a society that self-destructed via the use of nuclear armaments. Exact details of the collapse of the two societies are still being investigated by anthropologists but given the thoroughness of the destruction, the specifics may not ever be known.”
A shiver ran up Trix’s back as she stared up at the two screens. Somehow the thought of an entire species perishing all at once touched some deep existential dread within her, and she pressed the command to blank the screen. “Other people wiped themselves out. That’s why you guys thought there wasn’t life outside of your world?”
“That and the lack of any form of radio signals of any meaningful note. Radio was one of our first great technologies. To Humans, it seemed as though any other intellect among the stars would develop radio quite early in their development. As such, we sought out radio waves in the void. Not finding any made us believe that we were alone.” Par hummed idly as he spoke, giving his already musical-voice an unusual undertone.
“Well you’re not alone, so that theory is obviously not correct.”
“Your presence onboard the ship is decisive evidence to that effect, yes.” Par digitally laughed at this, though it was odd. It sounded perfectly natural yet somehow it came across as strangely emotionless to Trix. “I am sure that when knowledge of not just your but all the other species existence here in Perseus becomes widely known a large number of previous theories and thought experiments will end up being adjusted accordingly.”
“Well I’m glad to hear you guys will at least be affected slightly by us.” Trix stood up and spun her chair around, sitting down so her chest was against the narrow backrest. “Sorta feels like you guys are gonna be the ones making US change.”
“And that’s why we need a Prime Directive.” Josh walked into the room, interrupting the conversation. He was carrying an insulated mug giving off steam as he walked in. “Gotta keep our filthy influences from desecrating society too much.”
“I wasn’t calling you guys filthy.” Trix leaned against the chair, glancing up at the time. “You’re twenty minutes early today.”
“Yeah, woke up early and felt restless.” Josh shrugged and took his seat at the XO console. “But as to us being filthy, by and large I think we are. What’d I walk in on anyway?”
“Philosophical meanderings and stream of consciousness discussions regarding post-scarcity, the Great Filter, and the effects that Humanity will have on the Sovalin species as a whole.” Par summed it up rather neatly.
“In other words a boring shift where nothing happened.” Trix was even more concise. “What’s that Prime Direction you talked about?”
“Prime Directive.” Josh pulled up his console and transferred command over to it. He set the mug down on a coaster, and shited around to make himself comfortable. “In one of our works of fiction, space travelers and explorers are bound by law not to interfere with developing species so that their culture and values are unaffected by our own.”
“Thats’ stupid. Why bother with that? If other species are more like you, wouldn’t that make it easier to make friends and stuff?”
“Probably. But then who knows what kinds of amazing things we’d miss out on by not letting another culture flourish?”
“But that’s just it. We don’t have the kinds of amazing things you guys do. What do we have to offer that Humanity would enjoy?”
Josh reached over to the mug, taking a sip of the scalding hot bitter coffee inside. “That’s what we find out together. I’ll tell you this though. The aircar races you guys do will DEFINITELY be a hit back in Proxima. We’ve done many similar things but for whatever reason we never got into trying to fly a gauntlet like that.”
Trix sat up straighter at that. “Wait, really?”
(Continued in Comments)

My morbid fascination for cults began long ago when I was a young man hearing about a terrible incident in which a great many people died. Now, I naturally felt immense sympathy for the corrupted minds and souls lost that day, but something in me yearned to understand the psychological aspect of it all better.
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The years went by and my interest only grew with the Satanic Panic of the 80s and 90s. Eventually, though, I found my calling. I decided I wanted to quietly investigate cult psychology by embedding myself within them. Or, as any normal person would say, I joined a bunch of cults. It started small, you know religious kinda stuff. Groups similar to Scientology. These were a good starting point because their collective basis was somewhat still grounded in reality. Not that I was ever the spiritual type, but I could see the appeal even if to someone like myself the ideas posited remained completely ridiculous. Through the years hopping from religious cult to religious cult, I learned a great deal about why people gave everything they had up to join these groups. Now, you might’ve already guessed the answer, but seeing it and being able to walk into a room of devotees and feel its thick, choking presence in the air made it so much more real. Fear.
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Naturally, I was forced to partake in their activities. To eat their food. To drink their drink. I had to become them, or else I'd be discovered. With the comparatively gentle nature of the earlier cults I joined, this wasn't much of an issue, but the constant sense of obsessive duty began to take its toll on me as the intensity rose. From reality-grounded religious cults, I moved on to animal sacrifice cults and then onto UFO cults before ending up here.
One beyond simple description.
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After a run-of-the-mill pre-joining research period, I found myself stumbling through thick brush and leaves to attend my initiation deep within the woods at the edge of town. Usually, I had to travel pretty extensively to join a new cult, but this one was based close enough that it'd be far more convenient than the other options I had lined up. The thought of having my own bed to go back to every once in a while rather than living in their commune indefinitely sounded nice too. Eventually, I came across a group of young-looking men and women standing in a large circle with interconnected hands. A stone was seemingly suspended in the air just above a raging campfire and a man stood next to it with his back to me.
Without turning, he spoke.
"I see our latest brother has arrived. Welcome to our blessed commune."
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"Uhm, thank you. My name is---"
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"No names." he retorted midway through my sentence.
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"Well, er, OK. I'm glad to be here, what would you like me to do?"
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I was familiar with initiations, and the audience surrounding me suggested it'd be more of the same. Taking an oath, reading some words from a scroll, repeating a phrase from a long-forgotten language. That kind of thing.
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The man still stood with his back to me and commanded me to walk closer to him. Closer to the stone above the campfire. As I walked, the carvings on the stone became clearer to me. It was a face and not one that was human, either.
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"Take this dagger and draw blood."
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Oooh, I'd never been asked to give blood to whatever idea I'd be pretending to worship before. I felt like I was in a bad horror movie, and I loved it. The sharp tip of the blade he handed me behind his back pierced the skin across my palm and I grimaced before he finally turned to me. He was as young as the others in the circle around me, and yet the look in his eyes was one of a weathered man. Someone who'd seen a lot. Done a lot.
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"Provide the stone with your offering" he spoke whilst his eyes obsessively followed mine.
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Crimson-red blood dripped down into the crevices of the carving before me and eventually onto the fire. My train of thought was interrupted by the cult members around me breaking into a collective hymn. I tried to make out what they were saying, but it was all unintelligible. Part of me thought it must have been the language of whatever entity they were worshipping, but it didn't sound like any language at all. Then, they began to walk away. Backwards. Creating more distance between me and them yet never breaking eye contact. The chanting grew louder and louder and the structure of the circle remained as it had been, the leader travelling in the middle along with the suddenly mobile fire and stone. Part of me wanted to follow, but another, more instinctual part screamed at me to accept their departure. I shouted out, though, in an effort to understand what they were doing. Where they were going. It yielded no results and before long I was standing amongst the tall trees and whistling wind completely alone.
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Thankfully, I managed to make my way home from those woods. I've come to find out that I brought something horrible along with me. I spent the next few days trying to find out anything beyond what my initial research into the "Hometown Cult" - as I've come to refer to it - revealed. With no contact from the people in the woods, I was left to my own devices and scoured the internet for anything that might have helped. Eventually, I came across something, not much, but something. A newspaper archive from 127 years ago detailing the mass disappearance of every 35-year-old in the town. Supposedly there had been 37 of them all those years ago, and the townsfolk woke up on the morning of June 27 to find they were all missing. Children walked into the bedrooms of their Parents to find sheets strewn on the floor and weary husbands awoke to their sleeping wives no longer by their sides. Rumour at the time had it that their personal effects were found in a circle deep within the woods at the edge of town. Just like the circle I'd seen. I tried to glean some context into the investigation and what happened next from later editions of the paper but had no luck. It was as if there was a single mention of the incident and then it too disappeared.
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Within a few days and without much progress beyond the newspaper I'd found, my mind drifted away from the topic and I found myself looking forward to a little break from my cult-investigating facilities. My ignorant bliss didn't last long enough though, unfortunately. Before long a sense of duty began to envelop me. Call out to me. I began to hear the hymn of the circle and the blood-soaked face of the stone entity in the dreams. Its face became engraved onto my mind and it would just be there. Present, always. I'd never been a person with a troubled mind - even given my escapades into mass psychological delusions - but the hymn grew louder. Clearer. It wasn't incomprehensible any longer, and the things it was telling me were terrifying. The fear enveloped my every waking moment and my every dreaming moment. Perhaps I should have known my little hobby would someday move beyond delusions of salvation. Move into real-life pain. Torment. It wanted me to hurt myself. To give my life away as I'd pledged. "As I'd pledged? What the fuck???" I thought before finally realising my little blood offering was far beyond the realm of simple initiation.
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I'd stumbled across my first human-sacrificial cult.
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The hymns drown out the outside world, now.
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They command me, and I obey. Part of me remains afraid, but fear can be drowned out too.
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Yesterday, the hymns chanted something nice to me for the first time.
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"Happy birthday to youuuuu..."
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35 was always going to be a big year for me.