Okay, so I've been working on a load order the past few weeks, have restarted a new save several times & keep running into this issue. At this point I'm unsure if my mod list or Bethesda is to blame, I remember years back when Fallout 4 released the dlc Automatron had issues with crashing, possibly the new update bugged missions again or possibly Bethesda never actually fixed them to begin with.
So anyway enough scapegoating, the issue I'm having is every time I'm on certain missions & walk through a door with a siren going off my game will CTD. These are the following missions I've experienced crashes on thus far: 1. "Restoring Order" mission while approaching the Mechanist inside the RobCo Center at a certain point a siren will go off & game will CTD. 2. "Echoes of the Past" mission while trying to clear the Atlantic Offices building of Enclave Soldiers, like before certain point in building sirens will go off & game with CTD. 3. "The Secret of Cabot House" mission while helping Jack reach the basement, same thing as others once i get to a certain point sirens will go off & game will CTD. These are the missions I've came across so far that are causing the stupid siren to crash my game consistently, I'm sure there will be more & feel that it is related to Automatron dlc issues.
A few notes, I own all the DLC's & have them installed, I'm not currently using UFO4P mod. Here are a few things I've tried to fix issue: Uninstalled Automatron dlc (game wouldn't even start without crashing), moved Automatron dlc to external harddrive, Set my display settings to 30FPS, disabled AWKCR & S. C.A.P mod. None of these suggested fixes have worked, I'm running game on a Xbox Series X, the game runs mostly fine other then crashing when that dumb ass siren goes off.
My question is am I the only one experiencing these issues, I've tried searching & haven't seen any post with similar issues. Are there any mods in my load order that stand out that could be causing this issue, possibly I have mods out of place in my load order that are conflicting with each other? Is Automatron dlc just broken at the moment? Any help or suggestions would be greatly appreciated, I've been working on this load order for weeks & finally got it where I want it, I just want to actually beat the game for the first time but these missions being blocked is causing massive headache's.
Here is my load order that I'm running, listed how its currently ordered.

[LEGACY] Mutant Menagerie - Big Game Hunting (XBox) Armor And Weapon Keywords Community Resource (AWKCR) (XB1: All DLC) [XB1] Settlement Electricity Overhaul Revamped Player Responds To Pain By EngineGaming (Extended Version) ECO + NEO ALL DLCS MERGED - Has ammo crafting option SKK Fast Start New Game [Xbox] SKK Fast Start Location [Xbox] Legendary Modification Cheat Terminal [Xbox One] A Touch Of Life - Basic Immersive Fallout (DLC) Zombie Walkers (XB1) Worldwide Ghouls Fall Evil Mega Zombie Pack Boston - Less Enemies Random Encounter Manager [Xbox] Quality Of Life: Custom Ini Face Texture Glitch Fix A Bullet Time For Xbox One Idiot Savant & Better Criticals Redone (XB1) Rich Vendors+ [Complete] [XB1] Better Casing Ejection Glowing Animals Emit Light [XB1] Glowing Animals Emit Light - Far Harbor Add-On [XB1] Dynamic Light For Glowing Drinks X-01 Invisible Flashlight Remove X-01 Tesla Upgrade Kit (XB1) Weapon Jiggle Remover By MaxG3D [XB1] HUDFramework [XB1] HoloTime - HUD Clock Widget [XB1] Immersive HUD (IHUD) [XB1] Better Dials For Power Armor By Sanhedrinn Paper Vault Boy DEF_UI Core [XB1] - disabled [waiting on next gen update] DEF_UI HUDFramework Patch [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI Preset Compass On Top By Chucksteel [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_INV_config Author's Picks [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_tags Icons Definitions (VIS) [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed DEF_UI_tabs Inventory Tabs (VIS) [XB1] - disabled, placeholder till DEF_UI fixed Clarity - A Visual Overhaul NAC X Fixed NAC X - Nuka World NAC X - Far Harbor Clarity + NAC X (Patch) Sunlight Alignment Tweak - Better Dawn And Dusk [XB1] Visible Galaxy 4k Enhanced Lights And FX [XB1] Wasteland Illumination Shadowing Ed. True Grass 'Lite' + Grass Reworked [XB1] Overgrowth, Immersive Living Forests And Grasslands White Phosphor NVG/ High Tech Vision Kit Update CROSS Crit Gore-Verhaul Fixed Enhanced Blood Textures (Standard With 1k Resolution) (Official) Caliente's Beautiful Bodies Enhancer -CBBE- Curvy AIO Sexy Lingerie - Optional (Curvy_CBBE_BBP) [XB1] Natasha Face Texture Immersive Face Animations REMADE - IFAR - Serious Version (XB1) Immersive Mouth And Teeth True Eyes Gorgeous Vault Girl [XB1] Companion And NPC's Face Replacer All-In-One Pack By Keke-Bu [XB1] Ponytail Hairstyles By Azar V2.5a Better Settlers XBOX [XB1] Clean Faces Of Settlers Fallout 2287 - Gas Masks Of The Wasteland [XB1 Light Edition] Fallout 2287 - Universal Gas Masks [ XB1] Fallout 2287 - Gas Mask Biped Fix Gas Masks Of The Wasteland With NAC Updated Fallout 2287 - Nuclear Winter [XB1] - version 18 Hardcore Health Overhaul Immersive Animation Framework By AnotherOne Kane's Items Sorting (XB1) Modern Clear Purified Water And Gatorade Bourbon Replacer By Sdak1 [XB1] Russian Stimpack Replacer MAIM 2 Modern Pharmacy IAF MAIM 2 - Russian Stimpack Patch MAIM 2 - Hardcore Health Overhaul Patch MAIM 2 - Nuclear Winter Patch (FlashyJoer) - Advanced Needs 76 (ALL DLC) Girly Animation [XB1] More Girly Animation [XB1] Smokeable Cigars - Cigarettes - Joints - With Hardcore Auto Save (Updated) Running With Hands Animations XB1 Swimming Animations XB1 In-Game Third Person Camera Config (XB1) Much Better 3rd Person Animations Tactics [XB1] Glowing Sea Glowing Critters - XB1 More Behemoths In Commonwealth Amazing Follower Tweaks FO4 Edition What's Your Name? By Pra Commonwealth Ambience [REDUX] All DLC Stalker UI Sound Replacer Lost World - Immersive Soundtrack Replacer Distortion - Combat Music Replacer Icebreaker Settlements - Settler Dialogue Overhaul Louder Project Reality Footsteps FO4 Commonwealth Warfare - Realistic Gun Sounds And Bullet Cracks Commonwealth Warfare Explosions - No Ear Ringing Sounds Physics Impact Overhaul And Bullet Casing Sounds Bullet Impact Overhaul Where'd You Find This Legendary - KnightHasen Tarkov-Esque ADS Sound Replacer Tactical Weapon Foley - Weapon Equip Sounds Pick Up Ammo SFX Sanctuary Hot Springs Home & Settlement Red Rocket Bunker (XB1) The Red Wave (Reloaded) Fast Travel Player Home [XB1] APC Home On The Move (Xbox) APC - Home On The Move And Fallout 2287 Nuclear Winter (Compatibility Patch) N.E.S.T Survival Bunkers V1.5 Conquest - Build New Settlements And Camping [XB1] Taffington Boathouse Revamped Xb1 Sunshine Township A Tragedy For Xbox 1 Gunner Operator CBBE [XB1] Grease Rat Garbs - CBBE Curvy Classy Chassis Replacer Outfits (CBBE) Elite Riot Gear - Standalone See Through Scopes - GOTY [XB1] Zenit REDUX (AKM, AK-74, And AK-12) RU556 Revamp Accuracy International AX50 Anti-Materiel Rifle (1k) Honey Badger (1k) Steyr AUG - No Camos (1k) RPG7 Compress Version M2 Flamethrower Redux (Updated) Mp7 Revamp MP5 Complex V2 The M14 Standalone Rifle Police Shotgun (Remington 870) - Commonwealth Weaponry Expansion Glock 19x Revamp Glock Pack - 17 - 19 - ZevOZ9c By Marion Glock 19x And Glock Pack 10mm Replacer Enclave Plasma - Fallout 76 Recreation New Vegas Uniques 05: Sprtel-Wood 9700 (XB1) Classic 10mm Submachine Gun (1K Textures) New Vegas Uniques 13: Chance's Knife (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 11: Fist Of Rawr + Bonus (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 09: Golden Glove(S) (XB1) New Vegas Uniques 06: Holy Frag Grenade (XB1) Obtainable Animatronic Alien Blaster Quantum Weapon Pack Quick Step ADS Lean Patch [XB1]Tactical Tablet 2.1 Graf's Security Fences [XB1] A Simple Sleeping Bag Place Anywhere [XB1] [XB1] Building Budget Extender V4.3.1 S.C.A.P (Settlement Cleaning Reveals Absolute Perfection) 

​

When I first started to be aware of my POTS symptoms I noticed three things. First that I was dizzy, second that I couldn't see/had black spots in my vision and the third that I could see things in my vision that were not there.
It's still hard for me to explain what happens but when I have a flare up of symptoms the dizziness and black vision is usually accompanied with distorted vision of things I see. I realised that it was very similar to how I fall asleep and everything around me is a bit strange. Things are maybe a different colour or my vision spins everything around or it's like my brain is struggling to make sense of what I'm looking at.
I think this is just how my brain 'turns off'. But it definitely led my doctors to suspect that my symptoms were psychological since I couldn't explain it well enough.

Hi everyone!
Ok, so I was in the kitchen after dinner when I leaned on the bench. I felt a squeeze in my chest, it start to hurt a bit and I felt a tiny bit of nausea/cold sweat/confusion. I stumbled to my room, my vision had gone and I believe everything kinda just turned white. I went to lie on the floor and did some breathing in and out; my ears were ringing and they started making weird wobbly high pitched ringing sounds. I don't know if I had a mini heart problem or if my stress caused some sort of serious problem. I'm lying in bed now afterwards; I wasn't really scared that I was going to die because I didn't think I was and I couldn't care less if I did since it was quite peaceful apart from the nausea. My brain is constantly filling my body with a dull dread and this gave me a rush of adrenaline, I kinda giggled when I told my mum about it and refused to go into the lounge and part of me is secretly hoping I'll just pass away in my sleep but thats a talk for another time lmao. Ik thats a weird thing to wish for but the bit where I nearly fell unconscious was so peaceful. Anyway, what could this mean? Did I have some sort of stroke? I'm 16 years old.

yeah, i mean, i guess i thought i was built different, i thought brain zaps would be the worst of it. i put off refilling my 150mg dose for almost a week (financial reasons) and after day 2 cold turkey i was a wreck. i was in a constant state of dizziness, my brain feeling like it was being electrocuted, tunnel vision, chills, nausea, and shaking. OH and the migraine that lasted for five days nonstop!
i literally felt like i was dying, i will never not prioritize having these meds, i’m so humbled rn. i thought i knew what brain zaps were, i never could have been ready for my skull to turn into a plasma ball. i felt like the entire inside of my body was made of spaghetti, i cannot express how tired and sore i was after sleeping for almost 18hrs? time didnt exist. i feel like i had an ego death.
i read a few of the withdrawal threads here today and felt so validated, i feel a bit more stable now after three days back on, but am still recovering from satan himself cracking open my head and taking a liquid shit into my skull.
edit: FORGOT TO MENTION, two of these days i had to drive to work and work my entire retail shift both days feeling absolutely blasted out of my mind, barley functioning. i should not have driven, luckily my work is close by.

M16, 173cm, 60kg, overall healthy, no known Allergies, no recreational drugs, German, wearing glasses, i am reading a lot. I have dry eyes since i was 12 and i am actively medicating them with eye drops and slowly over the years, wierd artifacts keep appearing more and more in my visual field. These are as follows: (very rare, like once a week) A afterimage of something bright (like when you accidentally look at the sun) appears without me having looked into something bright (occasionally, like every hour ish) The same as above but they vanish as soon as i blink. (always) When i go to sleep, close my eyes, and wait ca. 10 mins i see wierd waves of light and mini afterimages appear and disappear I have almost constant pain around my eyes, NOT in them When i look at something uniform and well lit, dots appear and vanish, like mini glitter. I have had Floaters for like 3 years now. My Grandma has migraine if thats relevant. i have no dark spots in vision, nor is anything distorted or blurred.

hi, this is my first time posting so sorry if its not formatted/written very well & also sorry if i rambled too much
TDLR: thinking of mobility aids bc of joint pain & fatigue/lightheadness, not currently seeing any docs or anything, unsure how to speak to parents about it????
im not currently diagnosed w/anything or regularly seeing any kind of doctomedical professional, ive seen the physio about my left knee twice [once in 2023 and once last week, housemaids knee, i think? keeps coming back. got given a sheet of exercises for it]
i am also on the waiting list to see a cardiologist bc i have symptoms that seem more or less consistent with POTS? [palpatitions & high heart rate standing up, lightheadedness, vision going out, tempreture issues, nausea, etc. not self diagnosing just using to help give a picture of it] but i dont even have an appointment date yet
i have had blood tests done as well as an ecg regarding that ^^^^ & all the results were normal
i also have some kind of joint pain/issues [worst in my ankles/wrists, and my left knee & right hip], as well as fatigue and minor-ish balance issues. all of my issues are like, inconsistent in severity
i have been thinking about getting a mobility aid of some sort for a while, but recently much more, as ive been hurting my knee more, like basically any time i walk more than mile [or even less, sometimes].
& also because i regularly get tired/lightheaded and have to sit down [and usually end up sitting on the ground]. i find standing largely uncomfortable, and it usually becomes painful within 10 minutes
i try to exercise but its difficult all considered [also have a circadian rythmn disorder so im not regularly awake in daylight hours :/] & i think a mobility aid could help me? especially bc i find myself leaning on things a lot
right now i use knee & ankle supports semi-regularly, which has helped a lot in reducing the pain/keeping it from getting worse. imo im being more active since getting them
i am [kind of irrationally, maybe?] very nervous about talking to my parents
they have largely been supportive in the past about accommodating me & letting me persue my interests. everyone picked up fingerspelling & a couple signs bc i sometimes dont/cant speak verbally, for example
though its only in the past year that ive realised im physically disabled [had all the symptoms before, just didnt realise it was wasnt everyones experience], i did a lot of that discovery thru having conversations with them about it, & i regularly talk thru stuff with them to help get an idea of which things i experience are considered abnormal/concerning
they seem to understand, at least, that i have a lot of trouble with doing things. my mother is the one who bought the knee brace for me. shes also an occupational therapist [stopped practicing after having kids but recently re-registered], so she knows more than the average person about this kinda thing
they are not always immediately great about things, but theyre willing to discuss and actually listen, so a lot of times its about how well i can articulate myself when i explain. their general attitude is that i should be able to make my own decisions, and that if it helps me then its worth at least discussing
i have previously suggested that ive thought about the subject, but not necessarily for myself [spoken about my friends disabilities and mobility aids & stuff]. i'm unsure of how to bring it up & anxious even tho the worst thing theyre likely be is kinda skeptical, in which case its pretty likely i would be able to talk them into it?
for reference the things im most drawn to personally are forearm crutches and those canes w/the seats? not sure if theyre called smthn specific. a lot of places we go have pretty rough floors/no paths so it seems most practical to me. im also currently a minor [turning 18 next year], if thats relevent at all.
i am willing/would kinda prefer? to see a medical professional about it and get suggestions of what would be best first, so thats not an issue [except for actually getting access to that, bc nhs waiting lists are ridiculously long and private is so expensive]
but again id need to talk abt it first to be able to have my parents arrange that for me [have selective/situational mutism so need someone with me on doctors visits]
idk. thoughts?? suggestions on how to bring all this up? thanks for reading in any case & once again sorry this ended up so long!!

Hello so yesterday night I had the most weird episode, I was having dinner with my family.
And all of a sudden i started having this thoughts/actions ( that i did in a dream, or i did previously), that’s the problem I couldn’t pin point, why I had that actions/thoughts in the first place. And if they were even real or were previous experiences from dreams, however I kept trying to think why and what lead me to have those thoughts/actions in the first place, so I could figure out the meaning. However it kept bringing out more confused toughts that I couldn’t pin point where they were coming from. It was like my toughts were behind a wall of fog , and I assume it’s like what people with Alzheimer’s probably suffer constantly:(.
However this wasn’t all, afterwards my vision started to be distorted , and I started to lose my peripheral vision. Later I ended up throwing up, this was all too much. And I felt at one point that my body wasn’t real and I was in an alternate reality and that was WHAT REALLY FREAKED me out, I felt like I was dying even started crying.
This is really new to me ( I’m a really happy person and easy going, I am not really a person that is stressed by work, I’m actually in a vacation right now), I wanted to ask if this is normal or u guys think I should see a neurologist, or something regarding my brain, Sorry for the long read . And thank you for the help

Back in February last year I had to go to the dentist for a small filling in a back top molar. When I lied back in the chair she was holding a syringe needle of local anaesthesia, she said shes just numbing the area before I could even refuse (I didn’t think it was necessary for a small filling) As she injected it, there was a slight pinch an as it took affect I started to feel really weird, really sleepy but full of adrenaline and felt disoriented/confused an like my brain was spinning and full of fog. It took about 45 mins to do the tooth and I just lied there, not moving or saying anything because I felt sedated. When it was done I drove home but felt like someone else was driving. The days that followed I knew in my gut something was wrong. The numbness didn’t fully wear off and my vision in that eye was distorted, (2D vision, not processing depth, distance) my ear was blocked and my brain and half my face left like it wasn’t there, feeling mentally impaired and my body didn’t know where itself was (loss of spacial awareness), dizziness, falling sensation sensory issues, emotional instability, also my sense of self was gone, I just couldn’t connect to my self or personality. All I could feel was the dull ache in my brain and that I was trapped inside my head in this fog. I honestly felt like I was trapped in the “in between” not alive but not dead. I told my family but they said it will be fine and not to worry. No one seemed concerned so i thought I was over reacting. I rang the dentist after a week and they said “these things happen, it’s rare but it happens everybody reacts differently” Nerve damage. this point things went down hill. Everything felt wrong in my body, I started having sensory issues with sound and touch I never felt like I actually slept, I did but when I’d wake up it felt like I never went to sleep an I was full anxiety and panic as soon as I opened my eyes. I developed ptsd, contamination phobias and claustrophobia, I’m scared of people touching me, doctors and dentists, I’m scared of needles and any real or imagined violation of my body. started having nightmares, anxiety 24/7, whole body shaking, hysterical crying on the ground. I cried for hrs everyday for 8 months. I felt mentally disabled I didn’t want to die but I felt like I had to if this was my life now. I was so dissociated I basically wasted away.
Anyway it’s been almost a year and a half, i am slightly better as i don’t have nightmares I can sleep, I eat, but I’m still not me. Not much has improved physically, I still have visual and memory problems, and blocked disconnect in my brain, no sense of self. I still don’t understand what happened, I just can’t accept it I’ve had family have dental procedures since and they had no problems. I don’t know if the injury was from the needle ihitting a nerve or if it was neurotoxicity from the anaesthesia or both. I’m so angry at the world, at who did this to me, at myself for not saying no when I didn’t want it anyway It’s an extremely hollow lonely existence Bring frozen in time for eternity. Before people would describe me as a very grounded, calm, funny, happy person, I haven’t been any of these things since. I don’t go out or have any friends, I’m embarrassed of my appearance because I look nothing like myself anymore. I seem to function, but I’m extremely depressed and suicidal, A few times a week I go deep into the forest near my house an cry. All my dreams for the future are gone I’m still here because I have younger siblings, family. They love me

For anyone who wants to see how things began.
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/S97b2fqIjx
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

For anyone who wants to see how I got into this situation.
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/s/R0DAycoVIm
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

(Buckle up, it's a long one)
Skibidi Toilet Forever chapter VI: Capitulation - part I :
Something was off… G-Toilet looked our way, but didn’t act aggressive at all. His head-lasers were down, the rest were powered off, and he just stayed there. He turned his gaze to Titan Binocularman.
“Stand up, I won’t hurt you.” He spoke aloud, “I’m sorry for attacking you, but I couldn’t allow you to shoot first and ask questions later; now is a time where we can’t afford to take chances.”
A plume of smoke formed behind G-Toilet, streaks of lightning arcing off and onto G-Toilet and the surrounding buildings. The purple glow of Titan TV Man’s sword emerged from it, swinging down at G-Toilet, who simply moved to the side to evade. “I can!” He shouted as his swing missed. G-Toilet moved a distance away from the two Titans, his expression still and confident.
“STOP. We need to focus our efforts on a mutual enemy. If we continue our incessant fighting, millions more lives will end, as will all of our own. Please, just hear me out for one moment, please.”
“I ain’t hearing nothing out, bro!” Titan TV Man fired a bolt of energy from his core. G-Toilet formed his shield to stop it in its tracks as a smaller black plume appeared behind him once more. The sword swung from it, which was ducked under. Titan TV Man smirked at this.
“You’re offly calm. Come on, fight me!”
“I refuse! If you won’t let me tell you who is coming, then neither of us will be able to stop them; my army’s too small and weak by this stage, and yours is woefully inexperienced. Greater still, they possess technology decades above what you’d consider bleeding edge.”
“Fine,” Titan TV Man retracted his sword and he put on a bored look, “You got one minute before I cut your yapping for good.”
G-Toilet sighed and began to speak, “Our true foe isn’t each other, it’s the Astr-”
The fist of Titan Binocularman crashed into G-Toilet’s face with a crunch, sending him back a good twenty feet. Titan TV Man caught him and spun around, interposing himself between G-Toilet and Titan Binocularman.
“Hold up, it hasn’t been a minute yet. Besides, this could actually be important!”
Titan Binocularman stared for a time before his core roared to life. “No,” He exclaimed, his voice booming through the air, echoing and shaking our bodies, “The Skibidi Toilet’s will be extinct by dawn.” He stated as he stepped forward and shoved Titan TV Man away with one hand before throwing a punch at G-Toilet, who lifted his shield to block it. G-Toilet said something in Skibidi under his breath as a small fleet of Toilets carrying cargo containers flew in. Titan Binocularman fired his optic lasers, knocking most of them out of the sky. Still, they blew open to reveal a pair of arms and a pair of legs. Beams of yellow energy sprouted from G-Toilet’s body and onto the limbs, drawing them to him and attaching like magnets, his armor and rockets rearranging themselves to accommodate the new form.
Titan Binocularman redirected his energy to his core and fired a single, solid beam that was so bright it distorted our vision. G-Toilet retaliated with his own lasers, all of them converging in the center. Even with his enhanced body, his lasers were steadily being pushed back. Titan TV Man attempted to push Titan Binocularman out of the way, only to be held back with one arm like a toddler. He then engulfed his arm in smoke and placed another cloud of it between the lasers, extending his sword between them only for it to be blown completely off. Then, the beam connected with G-Toilet. It burned deep into his core, taking him nearly off his feet and sending him crashing through several buildings.
Titan TV Man tried one last time to hold his fellow Titan back, but he was met with the back of his hand, sending him flying over us and landing on his back, his foot just barely missing us. He shouted for Titan Binocularman to stop as he bore down on G-Toilet, who fired his lasers only for them to be ignored like a bee sting. He tried to kick and punch, but the Titan simply grabbed hold of the brand new limbs and pulled them off like puddy, tossing them to the side. He stood fully over G-Toilet and fired his optic lasers and core into his head all at once for a sustained ten seconds. When he finally ended the onslaught and stepped away, G-Toilet was more than gone. In place of his head was a hole that - upon later inspection - burned down to the bedrock.
Titan Binocularman turned to us and Titan TV Man - the latter still on the ground, reeling from the hit - and told us, “You can take it from here.” Before his wings unfurled and his jetpack’s engines ignited.
However, just as he was about to take off, a small Toilet warped just beside him. It wore a helmet with five ridges running across, had a large cannon on its underside, and a spinning ring around its bowl. It smiled as Titan Binocularman fired his lasers and missed, before in mere moments, the sky was filled with more and more of these strange Toilets. Dozens, hundreds, no, thousands appeared from nowhere. Some rivaled the size of the Titans, and one, brandishing no weapons and a pale face, could comfortably fit one within its body. Then, a bright light appeared in the sky. It started off small, almost like a flare, but it began to grow and grow and grow and grow until it was akin to a second sun. And in an instant, it appeared.
A mothership, looming over the city, its sheer size casting a shadow that covered as far as the eye could see. Suddenly, I remembered my time with the squad in the lab, and what the Detective said. No, that wasn’t true, it couldn’t be, I told myself, but what I was looking at was the truth.
The Astro Toilets were here.
Full chapter + bonus scene coming tomorrow at 12:30 PM CDT!

I was due for injections this week but rx is running behind. I’ve had 4 migraines this week- full throttle with the vision aura, nausea, Jack-hammering pain. Just leads me to believe the Botox works for me.
Ugh, 5 more days and the rx should arrive. In bed with an ice pack and I doubled up on the nurtec 😭

Links:

1. https://bdigital.ufp.pt/bitstream/10284/781/1/223-239Cons-Ciencias.pdf
2. https://web.archive.org/web/20230614115415/https://bdigital.ufp.pt/bitstream/10284/781/1/223-239Cons-Ciencias.pdf
3. https://www.semanticscholar.org/papeIncommensurability%2C-Orthodoxy-and-the-Physics-of-a-Vallee-Davis/cc83574adbd009c4e36e1f8c5f80b1e884912b00

Original Portuguese:

Resumo
O argumento principal apresentado neste trabalho propõe que o estudo continuado dos fenómenos aéreos não identificados (“UAP-Unidentified Aerial Phenomena”), incluindo “aparições” de natureza religiosa ou espiritual, pode oferecer um teorema para a existência de novos modelos de realidade física. O actual paradigma SETI e a sua “suposição de mediocridade” coloca restrições às formas de inteligência não humanas que podem ser pesquisadas no nosso entorno. Um preconceito semelhante existe nas frequentes declarações dos ufólogos, segundo as quais se os UAP são reais, então devem estar associados a visitantes espaciais. Observando que ambos os modelos enfermam de antropomorfismo, os autores tentam clarificar as questões que se colocam em torno das observações de “alta estranheza”, distinguindo seis níveis de informação que poderiam ser extraídos dos eventos anómalos.

Translated:

Summary
The main argument presented in this work proposes that the continued study of unidentified aerial phenomena (UAP), including “apparitions” of a religious or spiritual nature, can offer a theorem for the existence of new models of physical reality. The current SETI paradigm and its “mediocrity assumption” place restrictions on the forms of non-human intelligence that can be researched in our environment. A similar bias exists in frequent statements by ufologists, who claim that if UAPs are real, then they must be associated with space visitors. Noting that both models suffer from anthropomorphism, the authors attempt to clarify the issues surrounding observations of “high strangeness,” distinguishing six levels of information that could be extracted from anomalous events.

The Six Levels of UAP Analysis

Let us consider the characteristics of the sightings that are not explained by trivial natural causes; we can recognize six major “layers” in terms of our perceptions of these characteristics, as they can be extracted from earlier works about UAP phenomenology (Vallee, 1975a, 1975b) or from the current NIDS database.

Layer I:

First of all is the physical layer, evident in most witness accounts describing an object that:

• occupies a position in space, consistent with geometry
• moves as time passes
• interacts with the environment through thermal effects
• exhibits light absorption and emission from which power output estimates can be derived
• produces turbulence
• when landed, leaves indentations and burns from which mass and energy figures can be derived
• gives rise to photographic images
• leaves material residue consistent with Earth chemistry
• gives rise to electric, magnetic, and gravitational disturbances

Thus UAP, in a basic physical sense, are consistent with a technology centered on a craft that appears to be using a revolutionary propulsion system. It is the existence of this layer that has led mainstream ufologists to claim that UFOs and related phenomena were due to extraterrestrial machines.

Layer II:

For lack of an adequate term we will call the second layer anti-physical. The variables are the same as those in the previous category but they form patterns that conflict with those predicted by modern physics: Objects are described as physical and material but they are also described as:

• sinking into the ground
• shrinking in size, growing larger, or changing shape on the spot
• becoming fuzzy and transparent on the spot
• dividing into two or more objects, several of them merging into one object at slow speed
• disappearing at one point and appearing elsewhere instantaneously
• remaining observable visually while not detected by radar
• producing missing time or time dilation
• producing topological inversion or space dilation (object was estimated to be of small exterior size/volume, but witness(s) saw a huge interior many times the exterior size)
• appearing as balls of colored, intensely bright light under intelligent control

It is the presence of such descriptions that leads most academic scientists to reject the phenomenon as the product of hallucinations or hoaxes.

Layer III:

The third layer has to do with the psychology of the witnesses and the social conditions that surround them. Human observers tend to see UAP while in their normal environment and in normal social groupings. They perceive the objects as non-conventional but they try to explain them away as common occurrences, until faced with the inescapable conclusion that the object is truly unknown.

Layer IV:

Physiological reactions are another significant level of information. The phenomenon is reported to cause effects perceived by humans as:

• sounds (beeping, buzzing, humming, sharp/piercing whistling, swooshing/air rushing, loud/deafening roaring, sound of a storm, etc.)
• vibrations
• burns
• partial paralysis (inability to move muscles)
• extreme heat or cold sensation
• odors (powerful, sweet or strange fragrance, rotten eggs, sulphurous, pungent, musky, etc.)
• metallic taste
• pricklings
• temporary blindness when directly exposed to the objects’ light
• nausea
• bloody nose and/or ears; severe headache
• difficulty in breathing
• loss of volition
• severe drowsiness in the days following a close encounter

Layer V:

The fifth category of effects can only be labeled psychic because it involves a class of phenomena commonly found in the literature of parapsychology, such as:

• impressions of communication without a direct sensory channel
• poltergeist phenomena: motions and sounds without a specific cause, outside the observed presence of a UAP
• levitation of the witness or of objects and animals in the vicinity
• maneuvers of a UAP appearing to anticipate the witness’ thoughts
• premonitory dreams or visions
• personality changes promoting unusual abilities in the witness
• healing

Layer VI:

The sixth and last category could be called cultural. It is concerned with society’s reactions to the reports, the way in which secondary effects (hoaxes, fiction and science-fiction imagery, scientific theories, cover-up or exposure, media censorship or publicity, sensationalism, etc.) become generated, and the attitude of members of a given culture towards the concepts that UAP observations appear to challenge. In the United States the greatest impact of the phenomenon has been on general acceptance of the idea of life in space and a more limited, but potentially very significant, change in the popular concept of non-human intelligence. In earlier cultures, such as medieval Europe or Portugal in the early years of the 20th century, the cultural context of anomalous observations was strongly colored by religious beliefs.

Crosspost from /Hairdye
I 28F healthy no medication, have bleached my hair many times and after 5 year break bleached my hair myself twice (couple months ago and was fine). I went to a salon to have my roots touched up 30 vol and pulled to the ends a bit I sat for 30 minutes in plastic cap to trap heat (not sure what bleach brand) then under the hot dryer for 5 minutes. Scalp was burning somewhat but not red. No skin reactions. When I sat in the hot dryer I started feeling hot, slightly faint, and my spine starting hurting bad which it never does (??). I have never been under a dryer before. I was being rinsed when I felt my vision going out. I may have lost consciousness for a brief period, vision clouded with large dots, I couldn’t see, and hearing dulled. Then experienced nausea, diarrhea, shallow breathing, and stomach pain. Starting feeling really scared and got violent shaking, feeling faint but not passing out. This continues for over an hour, persistent shaking, shortness of breath and stomach pain. I honestly thought I might die.
The stylists were so kind and helpful. 5 hours later I am feeling not 100% but pretty much normal. I am confused because I am no stranger to hair bleach. I ate good that day and was hydrated. I have gotten faint when getting piercings before but always just for 5 minutes at most.
I just wonder if anyone knows what kind of reaction this was or if this has happened to anyone else.
TLDR: I had my roots bleached at a salon (I had just used a different bleach on my hair a couple months prior) and experienced fainting, shortness of breath, nausea and diarrhea, convulsions, and stomach pain. what could this be, anaphylaxis shock?

I 28F healthy, have bleached my hair many times and after 5 year break bleached my hair myself twice (couple months ago and was fine). I went to a salon to have my roots touched up 30 vol and pulled to the ends a bit I sat for 30 minutes capped (not sure what bleach brand) then under the hot dryer for 5 minutes. Scalp was burning somewhat but not red. No skin reactions. When I sat in the hot dryer I started feeling hot and slightly faint. I have never been under a dryer before. I was being rinsed when I felt my vision going out. I may have lost consciousness for a brief period, vision clouded with large dots, I couldn’t see, and hearing dulled. Then experienced nausea, diarrhea, shallow breathing, and stomach pain. Starting feeling really scared and got violent shaking, feeling faint but not passing out. This continues for over an hour, persistent shaking, shortness of breath and stomach pain. I honestly thought I might die.
The stylists were so kind and helpful. 5 hours later I am feeling not 100% but pretty much normal. I am confused because I am no stranger to hair bleach. I ate good that day and was hydrated. I have gotten faint when getting piercings before but always just for 5 minutes at most.
I just wonder if anyone knows what kind of reaction this was or if this has happened to anyone else.
TLDR: I had my roots bleached at a salon (I had just used a different bleach on my hair a couple months prior) and experienced fainting, shortness of breath, nausea and diarrhea, convulsions, and stomach pain. Has this happened to anyone here and what could this be, anaphylaxis shock?

Hey, wondering if anyone's experienced anything similar... I've had this LP shunt for 6 years and the last 4 weeks I've been having headaches at the base of my skull, blurry vision, vision that Grey's out for a few seconds when I stand up and double vision that makes me feel nauseas. I'm still able to work and function with pain relief. I'm discharged from my neuro team. What would your first step be?

Disclaimer that I'm mainly writing this with TMS in mind because I think that best epitomizes this train of thought though much of this could still apply to the entire oeuvre as much as it also couldn't, and I also must concede that for as much as I refer to their use of atonality and unconventional musicality, there are still, of course, converse examples of this all over the catalogue (also with a function that I think fits still into this thesis, as far as their employment of what have become archetypal musical memes and tropes that come from popular western music).
Also a disclaimer that when I say "pop," I'm referring broadly to the canon of popular music writ large(from rock to punk to hip-hop to pop-pop), but also including the more culturally-industrially connotations that we'd associate with the word, as per that intentionally engineered and abstractly effective elementality that makes something have major label marketability, radio viability, and chart success. I use the term multi-intentioned in this sense.
Required reading in general but also this post owes some of its general mentality to this great post from u/mcfartknocker
…
Death Grips is conceived to sound like popular music from the next century. Their aesthetic goal is what Stefan describes as "familiar music of the future," with pop(ular) form as the conscious medium by which to achieve that--the standard being "it has to be blowing systems in 2099."
How does one reverse engineer future music? it's essentially an act of science fiction, namely speculative fiction. One has to ask oneself, what does popular music sound like 100 years in the future?
As in all good science fiction about the future, one doesn't merely blindly guess. one looks at the present and the past and sees what is happening, what has lasted, what feels timeless now, and what feels arbitrary and passing now. This reveals what cyclical tendencies are, what the transhistorical throughlines are, if any.
As per them referring to it as a musical "mantra," (same interview linked above) I think that DG landed on the idea that primal, tribal pulse and "the use of negative space within bounce" are timeless universals--as per the deterministic tendencies of terrestrial human biology, and that the language of pop structure will continue to persist as a cross-culturally unifying global commodity as technocapitalist globalization only expands and accelerates.
Markets accelerate the deterministic tendencies of human biology, bodies pushed to their own respective and communal limits as the demands of both advertising, consumer-tribal coercion, and commodities themselves necessarily grow more narcotic and compulsive in relational nature and technology only deepens the possibilities and power of this process over the original, flailing ape with headphones on.
In other words, pop is both a military-grade weapon but also employs the base 'truth' of human rhythm, mutating in extremity, complexity, and innovation along with the culture around it. The beat hacks and hijacks, possesses the body. Once one understands what the language of both pop and the universalizing primal elements within it constitutes, one has a skeleton key to what will happen to animal ears of the future, in essence far more than exactitude(which is never what matters most in speculative fiction anyway).
Not from the future as such but for the future. Match the mentality that leads the charge of innovation and acceleration in musical cultures and follow that to its natural extremities--how the ape plugs into culture and vice-versa. Not predicting, but channeling. Cyber audiomancy that reflects the future by plunging through the tribal past that walks among us everyday in the core of what infects people most in good beats, and which is paramount when stepping into any distinctly tribal culture still accessible, however scathed or not colonially speaking.
To this end, The Money Store is consciously a post-globalized 'third world' internetted capsule of frequently explicitly tribal, bounce-based rhythms that exhibit tight pop structure and hooks but tend to rest on timbre, texture, and atonality over traditional popular western chord structures, keys, or melodies for its novelty and thrills.
In constructing the classic music of future, the universalizing conceit of the tribal beat, that bounce that, as I think Zach even cites at one point, mirrors the beat of the heart are preserved as cultural universals(as they say in anthropology), whilst the potentially too-culturally-specific factors of distinctively typical scales and chord progressions are eschewed in favor of the rhizomatic, decentralized, increasingly digitalized, fractalized modes of the future. The things favored by space and facelessness; the blur, the shatter, the disintegrant. No obvious regional context or stationed there for long, the slither of a global mind that swims too fast to be defined by exact old-world geographic means of thinking or expressing.
In this is the estimative leap, following the tendencies of where both avant-garde and electronic music had been heading towards the end of the century, that there is a casted focus on fragmented samples that move too fast to describe or locate in their original state, emphasis on texture over symphonic progression, and laser-like atonal top-lines over conventional scales and themes. The quintessence of all elements themselves humbled and equalized under their innate distortability as sound, subject to any bend of pitch-shifting or granular synthesis…"it sounds like a broadcast because it is a broadcast" (again from the Quietus interview).
That is basically how to transpose "future primitive digital" (I link True Vulture for the full phrase but the "future primitive" has been employed by the band many times in various contexts) into musical form; the original monkey jacked into the accelerating vectors of the internet, the hub of an ever-increasingly post-human society (mentally and physically speaking), where one is beset with adaptation to inhospitable norms that hijack and mine the depths and stocks of human brain chemicals to facilitate maximum ad traffic…A 24/7 lighted vista of neural heroin (not that old-world dope isn't neural in nature, but) where one can live psychically, but the problem of the body remains, as the body remains. The ape. The part with the heart, the thing that moves to a beat, that dances and grooves to the pulse of a drop.
Embracing the digital landscape with total acknowledgement and awareness of the limits and benefits of a body is how I would describe "future primitive" in totem, and I think the above paragraph is exactly how musically one would adapt those aspects technically. The primal body (pulse) and the hyper-mutated head (dissolving of all other boundaries and signifiers into warpspeed stew that fires too fast for old-world blues scales).
In 2099, people may not know or care about Smoke On The Water, but will know what roaring bass and shrieking treble means, because it's a matter of feeling, not history. Core and edge that survives archeological time, a kind of musical esperanto meant to be accessible in the future across the globe, down to how so often even the lyrics employ phrases and words from various languages very casually, non-chalantly alongside English.
Another kind of post-globalization polyglottal memetic sleight of hand is how multinational corpo artifacts like the McDonald's logo, brandnames like Toyota, Apple, or Google, original peak-era cellular ringtones, PC system sounds, and the music in commercials are meant to be recognizable, pronounceable(in the case of the language entailed), and sensorily resonant across planetary culture. I believe it's highly arguable that PC system sounds, og-era ringtones, and earworm ad jingles are a huge inspiration for the melodies and samples on ExMil and TMS, and it's also circularly fitting that many of those are engineered to have cross-cultural appeal, unbound by exactly regionally discernible musicality, tending towards heavily decontextualized melody lines or one or two notes overall.
This universality is not quite a humanist togetherness that's aspired to here, but more so merely one of utility and realism--fiercely armed and insured mobile cultural currency. This is the way the world is heading, acceleration and mutation is inevitable, unswervable, one can tap into its power by riding the wave aesthetically as lucidly as possible and rendering something that will, by virtue of its impact, thread both global and immediate cultural-historical lines. The 'future' is a mentality meaning primarily to not be bound by the confines of tradition and persistent baseless ritual, to think beyond, to feel outside of conventional structures, and so the universality of the future music on TMS is just as much about self-liberation and exchange of communally experienced empowerment as it is about wanting to be understood or standing some test of abstract time.
And of course it's the music of the impoverished, the music of the tribe. "Poverty and bass" being cited as their primary inspiration in that one early interview. I think somewhat in tandem with those early interviews where Zach describes this very explicitly cyberpunk vision of how we live now feeling like the dark ages(particularly re inequality) but with all this insane technology that is simultaneously dangerous but also yielding togetherness and progress. I think it's no mistake that Zach also cites arte povera as an aesthetic reference point for DG and this is reflected in the music here too. It's not just conscious of the morays of global popular and personal culture, it's instructively demonstrating an archetypally cyberpunk vision wherein one can jam and smash together the trashiest random youtube samples, old-school hiphop nods, drumline rattles, and drum circle rhythms with Aphex-like sleekness and live-rave intensity with very low production value and/or budget. "Third world in a first world," a more concise and materialistically inclined revision of the old 'high-tech/low-life' adage regarding cyberpunk's tendencies.
"We’re inspired by the future primitive life. We talk about experiencing the cusp of the digital age. Seeing it accelerate literally everyday is very influential. To experience everything becoming rapidly techno and simultaneously knowing this is still medieval times is strange. It’s interesting to think about what you hold onto from the past and what part of the oncoming unknown you embrace, on all levels". (Vice interview, April 2012).

How long did it take for you to get diagnosed with MG? My physical symptoms started on May 10th of this year. I have been struggling with mental health issues for months now so I intitally chalked it up to that. I started with a new PCP on May 14th who noticed my ptosis and inability to see. She had a plethora of labs done but one was for MG. My numbers came back high. I wound up in the ER because my family thought I was having a stroke. I was admitted. They did a CT scan, two MRIs, multiple EKGs, a plethora of blood work, and had me meet with a neurologist then an eye doctor. They said everything was fine. Nobody mentioned MG and they didn't test for it either. My PCP was appalled at our follow up a week after I was released from the hospital. She told me that she believes I have MG but that she can't diagnose me. I have a follow up with neurology in a few weeks but I'm nervous that it'll be a waste. My symptoms so far have been ptosis in my left eye, double vision, blurry vision, a horrible migraine that doesn't go away or get better, nausea, extreme fatigue, extreme light sensitivity, feeling like someone is compressing my arms and legs, hot flashes, and neck pain. I am only 25 too so this has been debilitating. Any feedback helps!

I have only been at this since yesterday, so I'm really surprised that my body is having such a violent reaction. I was already on the Mediterranean diet, but because I've been showing autoimmune symptoms for a while, my doctor wanted to try going gluten and dairy-free to see if I experience any improvement.
As far as I know, I ate enough carbs in the form of beans and sweet potatoes yesterday. Today, I didn't get much, and after I ate a salmon salad (salmon, mayonnaise, celery, sunflower seeds, and dried cranberry), I experienced sudden tunnel vision, racing heart, and nearly passed out. I eventually realized that it was hypoglycemia (non-diabetic, diagnosed with postprandial hypoglycemia years ago). I downed a bunch of sugar, as I haven't had an episode in so many years that I stopped carrying glucose tabs.
Still felt like crap, so I got checked at an urgent care. My heart is fine, but my doctor was surprised that my blood sugar was only at 140 for all the sugar I consumed. He said that it must have been pretty low.
I am now experiencing extreme nausea and diarrhea and can barely eat. What the heck is going on?

I’m 36 f having eye issues no one knows what causing them or what’s happening I’m leaving a trail of puzzled optometrists and ophthalmologists behind me no one’s heard of the issues they are tending to think it’s my brain playing tricks on me I’m not sleeping very anxious and depressed because of this. I’m scared it my eyes tho have been told it isn’t had scans eyes tests etc then I worry maybe I messed up the scans my anxiety is not settling down. I just want to be able to trust God and trust the professionals but it’s so hard. I’m worried these visual distortions/ double vision will never go away I’ve prayed and prayed for God to intervene and to help fix whatever is causing it eyes or brain. I’m really scared. Please pray for me. It’s taking all the joy out of my life as everything i enjoy is visual based I ’m meant to be trying to get my stress down but I can’t calm down at all. I just want my life back please pray for healing or for my ophthalmologist to realise what is going on so he can help me. Thank you all Bit more on my issue please pray https://www.reddit.com/GhostingGang/s/zEa9Y27Ecc