This ‘allegedly’ True story was written & emailed to me by an anonymous source. It is also available on my YouTube and TikTok channels to watch in video format. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Bamboo Vigilante 

One Saturday, quite a few weekends ago, my friend and I decided to go dumpster diving. We’ve never done this before and thought it would be fun.
We got the idea from a TikTok video and watched this guy rummaging through a dumpster from a store in his town and saw all the brand new stuff that stores actually throw away.
We couldn’t believe it! We decided to try it out for ourselves and see if it bore any fruit.
As this was our first time doing this we wanted to take precautionary measures so, we decided to do it at night away from prying eyes.
We drove to a shopping center located in the city that we live in, but we parked our vehicle on a side street near it and then walked to where the dumpsters were located.
Both of us were nervous so, in case there were security cameras on the building we both wore disposable face masks to conceal our identities.
There’s a Dicks Sporting Goods inside of this shopping plaza so that’s where we decided to go first. The dumpster was located behind a fence that was locked up but my friend brought a pair of bolt cutters to cut the thick lock and double wrapped chain link in case we ran into something like this.
In the state that we live in, dumpster diving isn’t illegal, but of course, breaking and entering is. Regardless, if there’s a lock and chain that means something must be in those dumpsters.
And low and behold we hit pay dirt. Cha-Ching!
This dumpster was filled with 17 golf clubs, 20 boxes of sneakers, sweatpants, hoodies, 5 brand new metal detectors and a bow fishing bow kit.
And all of this stuff was brand spanking new!
We wanted to take everything and as fast as we could but we didn’t want to bring our vehicle over, again, in case there were cameras. But we were lucky and this had to be our night. Because there was a shopping cart no more than a few feet away from us but it was missing a front wheel.
No worries. We got this…
We managed to fit almost everything in that shopping cart except for a few boxes of sneakers and some of the clothing. With everything that we were able to get from that dumpster, leaving a few things behind wasn’t really a big deal.
My friend held the shopping cart from the handles and I held it upright by the front corner and wheeled it to our vehicle.
We got to our vehicle and started unloading the shopping cart and putting everything in the trunk and the backseat as fast as we could.
Everything was going smoothly…
We picked up the shopping cart and left it at the corner of the street. But as soon as we arrived back to our vehicle and finished tightening things up, the most unexpected thing happened to both of us…
We were approached by an old woman with a machete in her hand.
Yes, you read that correctly.
An elderly woman wearing Christmas Red pajamas with matching fluffy red slippers, wielding a bamboo machete. And this elderly woman appeared to be at least 70 years old.
We never saw where she came from. We never saw her coming! This is not something that you would expect after performing a breaking and entering. Maybe the cops? But an old lady and a bamboo machete?
This was an encounter I’d never thought would ever happen in my lifetime on planet earth.
First, she asked us who we were, and why we were wearing masks while waving that machete in her hand. My friend, the ever loving jokester that he is, answered her question… But with an answer that, I also did not see coming.
He told her the reason for wearing the masks is because we were both infected with the Ebola virus.
Yeah, he said that…
And her immediate response was:
“The virus that you catch from eating uncooked food?”
My friend replied with a very concerned:
“Yes! That’s exactly what it is and it’s very contagious, too. If we cough or even breathe near you, you too, can catch this virus. We were lucky enough to get the vaccine right away but it takes about a month for the virus to disappear. So, that’s why we’re wearing these masks.”
Why my friend would say such a thing to a psycho machete wielding old lady? I haven’t the slightest…
But he did. And that’s my friend. Courageously idiotic.
The old woman asked my friend if we thought she was stupid. And demanded that we remove our masks or she’d cut our nuts off slowly with the machete.
Yes. You read that correctly as well.
I complied immediately. My friend, on the other hand, wasn’t so inclined.
I started taking off my mask but my friend urged me not to, telling me:
“No! No! Don’t do that! We don’t want to infect this innocent woman with the Ebola virus. What’s wrong with you?!”
He turned to the woman and politely asked:
“How old are you, ma’am, 65? 70? Do you understand how quickly this illness can spread? For your safety, we refuse to remove our masks.”
As he crossed his arms standing firm with his concern for this innocent old woman. But it didn’t seem like she was buying into it.
She pointed the machete in the air and defensively said:
“How dare you! Who told you my age? Was it that bitch Irene from Target? I’ve never liked her. She gave me such a hard time returning my perfume. I only used it a few times. The bottle was still full.”
And now I could see where he was going with this unusual conversation. He was thinking, at the time of this event, that this woman was unhinged and unbalanced in every way possible. And at any moment she could lunge at any one of us. She was standing about 2 feet from us. She was that close! And it appeared she knew how to use that machete by the way she was waving it around and talking to us.
My friend, sympathetic to her feelings said:
“Yes, yes I know Irene. She’s not very nice, is she?
The machete lady angrily said:
“No, she is not. She’s a bitch.”
Frowning down at the fact that Irene, the Target Lady, made it difficult for her to return her item…
I’m watching my friend now, from the corner of my eye as he’s looking around the neighborhood while thinking of other things to say to her.
The crazy lady pointed the machete at him, mad as a hatter and asked:
“What are you doing? What the fuck are you looking for?!”
My friend, in a duplicitous manner said:
“Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. But you may want to be careful around here though. I heard there’s shapeshifters that live around these neighborhoods. People who turn into coyotes and wolves, and they won’t think twice about eating you.”
This crazy old lady… Steps forward a few inches, pointed the tip of the machete at my nuts and gladfully welcomed it saying:
Is that so? Let them come and get me then. And I’ll serve them your girlfriend's little testicles in a salad bowl.”
There was no more joking at this point. This old bag’s eyes were twitching and she was serious. And I didn’t want my nut bag served as a side dish. That blade was very sharp. I felt the tip of it tag my nut sac!
So, I asked the crazy old lady what it was that she wanted. And that we weren't there to cause trouble. All we wanted to do was to go home. I’m not going to lie, I got scared! I have a bamboo machete pointed at my family jewels. What the hell would you do in a situation like this?
She pulled the machete away and now pointed it at my friend. And In a turn of events, looking at me she said:
“I want your little friend here to apologize for destroying my garden. Do you have any idea, young man, how long Calatheas take to blossom? Do you even have the slightest clue?”
We slowly looked at one another and now knew that this old woman was completely out to lunch. We could have easily avoided this entire situation by attempting to disarm her. But this is a Machete we’re talking about. A bamboo machete. A sharp piece of weaponry. And any one of us could have gotten cut, or even worse, killed…
My friend, obligingly put his hands together, bowed his head, and apologized for destroying her garden of Calatheas. She accepted his apology. But something was still concerning this delirious old woman.
She asked us if we knew where she lived.
Of course we didn’t have a clue, but it didn’t stop my friend from telling her that she lived 2 houses down the street.
And just like that…
She thanked us, and also apologized for threatening to kill us. She sighed, bid us a farewell, and slowly walked away wielding that bamboo machete in hand.
We drove away with our nuts intact and a truck full of goodies that profited us two fistfuls of cash.
Not a bad night for our very first dumpster dive.
DISCLAIMER: This story is intended for reading purposes only. Again, please do not ask to use it. I’ve created a video on YouTube if you’d like to watch this story in video format.
Thank you.

Looking for opinions:
I have no clue what is causing my almost 6 month old EBF baby to have blood in his poops. I’ve been off soy and dairy for months and we only saw blood maybe once or twice a month until he was five months old. Then, for some reason when he reached five months, he started having blood more often, even though nothing in my diet changed.
The doctor recommended I cut eggs, so I have been off eggs for three weeks. Two weeks ago I cut oats, a week and a half ago I cut peanuts, and a week ago I cut corn, wheat, and tree nuts. He still has flecks of blood in his poop most days. If anything his poops have gotten worse over the past month of eliminations.
The only medication I take is an SSRI and I’ve checked the ingredients. There isn’t anything he would be reacting to. I cook everything from scratch these days and I am aware hidden dairy and soy.
I feel like either he just has a sensitive tummy or he’s reacting to something really obscure that I’ll never be able to figure out. Should I just start solids now before reaching baseline? The doctor said he is ready for solids, I just want to hear if anyone else has been through something similar. I was planning on continuing each of these eliminations until it has been three weeks, but I’m really sick of it and I’m thinking it’s going to be easier to figure out what he sensitive to by feeding things to him directly.

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

It is time, once again, for the napping of fics! Thanks to u/Ben_Elohim_2020 for writing The Nature of Family and all of its related works! I will try to remember to update this header with a link to whoever ficnapped me, but I do believe our group is the first to post, so I can't do that right now.
Shoutout to u/oobanooba- for organizing this event once again. He and u/TriBiscuit also helped with proofreading.
So, without further delay, here we go!
CW: Many violence
-
Memory transcription subject: The Du Slent, Venlil Owner of Duskwall Street Repair and For[ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ER]
Date [standardized human time]: October 13th, 2136
Ratchet.
Ratchet.
Ratchet.
One, two, three, and 5/37ths of a turn…and snug. Ah. No. Manufacturing error. 6/37ths is more apt. Wait. Too much. 6/74ths? Bah. Worthless nut. To the other rejects with you.
I untwisted the nut from the bolt, carried it over to the other workbench, and carefully slid the drawer open. Hearing the slightest rattling, I slowed my efforts. It took roughly [3 minutes and 34.72 seconds] to fully open without disturbing the contents. Housed within, there were 638 perfectly organized nuts that were deemed inadequate. I absolutely despised every single one of them, but I dared not throw them away. Nuts were nuts after all. Even trash had its uses.
I marked down the extent of my current defect on my spreadsheet, then placed it perfectly in line with the others. It was important to keep them in order, so I could track them.
639 rejects. Won’t be long before I’ll need to clear the drawer. Now that is an ordeal…
Ding!
The ringing of the front counter bell only served to grow my ire. My paw gripped the ratchet tightly. That incessant ringing…to have a customer arrive at such a trying time…
I raised the ratchet above my head, compelled to smash it right through the drawers, to reduce it all to nothing, to TEAR THE ENTIRE WORKSHOP-!
Ding!
I stopped. The ringer was still waiting, and, unfortunately, I had a business to run.
Sighing, I lowered my weapon ratchet and slowly began to close the drawer, making sure that no nuts rolled or slid out of place. The front bell rang a few more times, but I ignored it. With a light, yet satisfying click, it was done, and I made my way out to the lobby.
Passing between the workshop and the office, I was struck with another loathsome scene. The silver-suited scum was leaning over the front counter, peering behind for whatever it believed it might find, invading my space.
Has it any regard for decency, to enter my shop and spy behind my counter? Does this vermin know a thing about boundaries? It just walks in and starts its frivolous… SEARCHING. THERE IS NOTHING HERE FOR YOU, AND YET HERE YOU ARE.
I gripped the ratchet in my paws.
No. Calm. Can’t go back.
Slowly, I relented, letting the tool rest comfortably in my palm again. The exterminator looked up from its snooping, seemingly startled by my presence, as though it were caught smuggling a loaf of fresh strayu away from the kitchen. Quickly, it picked itself up and made itself look as presentable as it could.
It was still ugly.
“Ahem, Greetings, sir! I'm with the Twilight Valley Exterminators Guild. Would your name happen to be Slent?”
“That is what I am called, yes,” I replied. “I apologize for the wait. Can I help you?”
I knew, of course, that I could not. There was nothing in my possession, physical or otherwise, that this exterminator would benefit from. But, still, the trash was determined to waste its own time, as well as my own.
“I’m here to investigate predatory activity, primarily the, er, dubious happenings surrounding the Human refugees in the area. Nearby sources claim that a certain group of Humans came to this shop, a group with matching black pelts. Is that correct?”
The Humans had been here, yes, and it was bothersome for this very reason. I’d moved to Twilight Valley…no…this district specifically to avoid the watchful, prying eyes of the guild, yet here was an officer at my desk…in my store…asking worthless QUESTIONS.
“There were some Humans,” I replied through gritted teeth. “They had matching attire.”
“I see,” the exterminator’s demeanor shifted, muscles tensing. “What was it that they were looking for?”
I was very much aware of the change in atmosphere. Such sensitivities were a necessity all those cycles ago, and for a positively infuriating reason. This vermin, and those Humans that came before, believed that one tongue was not enough. They came to my shop speaking with two, where their words were layered with separate meanings.
I hate it.
I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT!!!
WHY SPEAK WITH TWO TONGUES?! YOU WERE BORN WITH ONLY ONE! The demons in the facility spoke the same way. They ShOcKeD me so MANY TIMES that I learned to understand it. Then, they found me fit for RELEASE! OH, THE IRONY! TO THINK THAT THEY HAD BECOME SO FLUENT THAT THEY BELIEVED IT TO BE NATURAL!
I loosened my grip on the ratchet again, realizing the officer was still awaiting my response.
“The Humans brought an offer,” I answered. “They advertised protection.”
“Protection? From what?” the vermin asked.
“From you. From those other than them.”
The exterminator scoffed, as though I’d just told it a bad joke. Yet, despite its laughter, its paw drifted closer to its belt, towards the cuffs and, moreover, the sidearm. I gripped my ratchet tightly again, this time in case it proved necessary.
“They were quite insistent,” I continued. “But I turned them away.”
That seemed to put the officer somewhat at ease.
“Protection from us…” it chuckled. “How strange that predators would offer protection from protectors.”
Protectors? Please…neither of you are true protectors. That’s a real joke. I’ve seen what you do to them.
Like that one Venlil in the black suit that came with the Humans. Quinlim, his name was? He had light in his eyes, but I could see it dying, being snuffed out by the surrounding darkness. Soon, he'd be just another vermin.
“And did they say anything else to you?” the scum continued. “Did you catch any names? Any locations of interest? Any packages or instructions?”
“I did not. Our conversation was brief.”
“I see. Anything else of note? Please, sir, we're only trying to keep the herd safe. Any information will be valuable.”
The frustration pounded in my brain again. What annoyance I was enduring. I had nothing more to say to this thing. Yet, I knew it would only return once it left because those black-pelted Humans would return as well with their rhetoric of family and protection. They’d speak of respect and honor while they lacked the honesty to come to me plainly. Then, just as well, these silver-suited goons would follow in tow, likely more than one next time. They’d speak of justice and the herd, but they would turn on each other with even the slightest modicum of doubt. They had no trust, and what each group had, the other rejected like nuts in a drawer that had manuFACTURING ERrors that cAUSed me ALL KINDS OF HEADACHES. S O ! M A N Y ! H E A D A C H E S ! ! !
I placed my ratchet down on the counter firmly enough to cause the vermin to wince. Then, I turned an eye directly towards it, and asked a simple question.
“May I regale you a tale, officer?”
Its ears tilted in curiosity.
“Does it pertain to my questions, to the predators?”
So selfish, to be hesitant to hear my parable after wasting my time. It believes that it has learned every lesson worth learning, but everyone has something to teach.
“Not directly,” I answered. “But I’ve been nothing but honest and cooperative with you. Perhaps you can spare me a moment as I offer you some sagely advice.”
The silver suit was clearly bothered by my request, but it sighed and leaned into the counter nonetheless.
“What do you mean to tell me, sir?”
I moved my paw along the countertop, outlining the ratchet.
“Once there was a farmer with a shadestalker problem. They prowled around his property and caused him such distress. But, lo, a savior! A sharpshooter came from town and rid him of the pests.”
“That's all then?” the officer mumbled, clearly just waiting for me to finish.
I stopped outlining the ratchet with my claw and slammed my palms on the countertop. The exterminator was startled, but quickly regained its composure.
“Hardly!” I exclaimed. “The farmer, in his gratitude, brought her into his home to stay. However, she remained past her time, and she attracted unwanted debt collectors and the like. Soon enough, he realized his error, and he tried to cast her out. But the diseased Venlil took the gun to him instead!”
“He should have called the exterminators for a woman so ill,” the exterminator huffed. “Or just called them to deal with the shadestalkers.”
“Ah, but he had crops growing,” I replied. “He didn't want them burned, and if the exterminators heard that he had harbored such a diseased woman, would they have thought him tainted too? It seems no matter what, he was destined to lose something.”
The officer waited for another continuation, but I remained silent.
“That's all, then?” it finally asked. “I’d hardly call that advice.”
“Not on its own, but I’m sure the meaning will present itself in time. For now, that is all I have for you, though I'm sure I'll be seeing you again.”
The scum looked at me quizzically, but didn't question me further. Instead, it turned tail and left my shop, and I returned to the back room.
Such foolishness that it doesn’t understand. Why, the story is unfolding in front of us, but it doesn't see. It comes here for information, but it doesn't listen when I give it away. So annoying that they listen to only what they waNT TO HEar.
I hated their two tongues. I hated their conniving ways. I hated the fact that they WOULDN’T LEAVE ME ALONE.
I could almost hear the shadestalkers’ growls, the beasts that had grown so hungry. They’d been poked and prodded and hunted and fed and kept and released and they were here, growing ever closer. Though I’d escaped them once, their numbers grew, and now the vermin had arrived to save me.
As if I needed to be saved. Shadestalkers could be killed. These scum, these…these…THESE…
Killed? They could be…
No…can’t…go back…
But they… won’t…
There’s too many…
Just one, however…
Just one…
Just…
Perhaps I’d told the wrong story. Or, rather, I’d told the wrong ending. I never was good with stories. The shadestalkers…were there even any on the property? How did they come to be there? Had the farmer not slain them long ago? Perhaps those growls were his own.
Argh! I told it all wrong! Such a poor way of framing it!
And, what’s more, the farmer hadn’t brought the sharpshooter into her home. She’d arrived of her own accord, drawing in the dreadful collectors.
Yes, that’s right. But perhaps I could keep her away, if only I made an example.
It was time to rewrite the parable with a new set of decisions. No longer would the farmer’s life end in tragedy, not like that. I had learned from the story in a way that the vermin had not. The shadestalker would hunt. The sharpshooter would run for the hills. Yes, this was a better turn of events.
I strode over to my chemical drawer, opening it carefully. Countless, brightly colored bottles stared at me from within, simple supplies for cleaning machine parts and the like. But chemistry cared not for intended uses. There was so much more to be done.
Ethanol, chlorine, catalyst…
Hydrogen…
Pour…
Oxygen…
Perhaps both at once…
Then, another…
-
[Fast forward transcription: 17 hours]
-
I turned the flask in my paws as I held it up to the light. The contents were not my concern, rather the reflection in the glass: a darkened, metallic mask covering my face. Then, down below, the lengthy cloak flowed over my body, hiding the color of my fur. Would it be enough to disguise me? Did it even matter?
The stirring to my side told me that I was far beyond the point of doubts.
So it goes…
“Mmmmm…wha-? Where…”
The silver suit, same from before, raised its head, taking in its surroundings. It wouldn’t recognize this place, of course. Its kind had never come here to this old, dilapidated warehouse. The same went for the black suit on my other side. This Human, too, was beginning to wake up, and I eyed the restraints I’d placed upon them both.
Secure. I need only wait.
Little by little, the exterminator became more cognizant. It looked up at me with fury in its eyes, but also something else.
“Hey! Who are you?! What’s with that mask?! Where are we?!”
I lowered the flask into my lap and sighed.
“You’re not good at introductions, are you?” the mask altered my voice. “It seems you've dropped the veil of professionalism. Already, you've asked three questions before I could even answer.”
“What?!” it hissed. “I don’t know who you are, or where this is, but you’re as good as fried! Once the guild finds me-!”
“They will not,” I interjected. “And you will not be returning to them.”
“Is that a fucking threat?” it growled.
“Not a threat,” I mumbled. “Just the truth.”
Finally, the Human began to wake up.
“Where…wuh…?”
The exterminator suddenly realized just what was restrained across from it. Its eyes grew wide.
“The black suit…What is this? Are you with them?”
“Shut up,” I replied.
“I am an exterminator of-!”
“Shut. Up.”
The silver suit stopped its rambling, but continued to struggle against the restraints, searching for any method to get free. There wasn't one, of course.
As it grumbled, I turned my attention solely to the waking Human.
“Where is this?” it mumbled. “The package…I…”
“Relax,” I cooed. “I only brought you here temporarily.”
“Who are you? Wh-what do you want?”
I could hear the bite of fear in the Human’s voice. He was one of the more recent inductees, still green and growing its second tongue. I could speak to this one plainly. It wasn’t yet lost to the cold game being played in this town.
“I just wanted to make you understand,” I explained. “Your group…your family has been poking its snout into a peace that I have worked very hard to maintain. It’s caused me some issues, but we need not be enemies. All I ask for is some…indifference to be practiced between us.”
“I d-don’t understand. Who are you?”
“You may call me The Duskwall Shadestalker, and you will understand very shortly.”
I stood from my seat slowly. Gripping the flask in my paw, I meandered towards the bound exterminator. It looked up at me like a cornered animal, but that was giving it too much credit, perhaps. Animals didn't go looking for trouble on purpose, not like this pest that came to my store to spy behind my counter and interrogate me.
“What do you want with me?” it growled. “You know capturing an exterminator is grounds for predator disease. The guild will find you, freak. I hope you're fine with living in a fucking facility.”
I held the flask up once more, taking in the reflection of my mask, as well as that of the black-pelted Human watching the interaction unfold from behind. Was he fully awake? I’d only get a good take of this scene once. This performance was about to take a rather intense departure from the original script.
“It wouldn't be the first time I saw those blank walls,” I sighed. “They taught me to speak your tongues. They taught me to be what I wasn't, what you should have feared…”
I raised the container over my head.
“Vermin, like you.”
I flung the flask’s contents into the silver suit’s face…
…and he screamed.
“AAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!! AAAUUGH!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!”
The Human recoiled as the acid began to eat into the exterminator’s face. Its skin blistered and boiled as the fur came off in patches. It brought its paws up to scrub the burning liquid away, but the sizzling only spread to its digits.
“NOW ISN’T THAT SOMETHING?!” I shouted over the screams. “WHAT A SATISFYING MELODY!”
“Wh-what the fuck?!” the Human shrunk even further, eyes wide with terror.
“SEE, THIS IS A MUCH BETTER TALE!” I motioned to the writhing silver suit. “THEY COME FOR THE SHARPSHOOTER, BUT THE REAL THREAT IS THE FARMER, BECAUSE THE FARMER IS REALLY THE SHADESTALKER IN A CUNNING DISGUISE! WHAT A TWIST! WHAT A TURN OF EVENTS! NO LONGER IS THIS A TRAGEDY! PERHAPS A TRAGEDY FOR THE EXTERMINATORS, BUT NOT THE FARMER! NEVER THE FARMER! NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER!”
I paused and took a deep breath.
Ah. [7.87 seconds] should be enough.
I drew another container from the lengthy pelts that draped over me. Opening the lid, I tossed its contents, a light dust, onto the vermin. The sizzling began to subside as the acid was neutralized, and his screams gradually reduced to sobs.
“P-please!” it sputtered, though its voice was ragged and its lips swollen. “I'm s-sorry! Whatever I've d-done to you, I'm s-so sorry! P-please, I w-won't do it again! Just d-don't kill me!”
“You seemed so much more confident before,” I mused. “Back when you had both your tongues. Funny how pathetic you become when I cut the extra one out. Let me tell you something, scum.”
I leaned down to its shivering, blistering form.
“I hate you. I hate the way you carry yourself. I hate the way you speak with two tongues. The trash at the facility used to speak with two tongues as well. They thought they could keep me there forever, but I grew four ears so I could hear what they were really saying.”
I glanced at the Human behind me. He had shrunk up against the opposite wall, searching for something to defend himself with.
“Relax, Human,” I instructed. “You do not hold my ire yet, though I imagine you soon will.”
“No, sir!” he replied. “I'm just trying to survive out here! I don't want any trouble!”
“They'll put you up to their game though,” I sighed. “Just like they did with this vermin, just like they did with me. The two-tongued bastards always find someone new to teach their language. I fear you're already in their clutches, but, for now, I'm only going to send a message with you back to your boss.”
“My b-boss,” he repeated. “God dammit, Don n-never mentioned it would get this b-bad. Oh fuck. I don't wanna die. I was just s-supposed to be running some contraband…”
“I'm afraid you were a tad unlucky,” I patted remnants of the neutralizer off my cloak. “You were just the easiest one for me to nab. Sorry, for what it's worth, but it had to be someone.”
I turned back to the silver suit.
“Just like this one here.”
I drove my foot into his side, then stomped his gut. I kicked him over and over, shattering bones and puncturing flesh with my claws. The vermin yelped and sobbed as I struck it, begging for me to relent.
I only kicked harder.
“YOU WALKED SO PROUDLY, SO CONFIDENTLY! YOU BELIEVE YOUR AUTHORITY MADE YOU UNTOUCHABLE, BUT NOTHING IS INVINCIBLE. ANYTHING CAN DIE, ESPECIALLY SCUM!”
I drew my ratchet from my cloak, turning it over in my paws. The silver suit looked up at me. With just one eye still working, it had to turn awkwardly to see.
“The story…the ratchet…” it wheezed. “I know you. You were-”
I slammed the ratchet into its singed face. I swung and smashed and crushed and broke and shattered and hurt until there was hardly anything left to recognize. Finally, out of breath, I tossed the ratchet to the floor.
“Oh god…urk…” the Human gagged. “Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. You're a fucking psycho…”
I turned around and slumped back into my seat until the Human stopped whimpering.
“Now, for the message,” I mumbled. “Tell this Don of yours to leave Duskwall Street alone. Your protection offers are attracting unwanted attention that I tried to keep away for a long time. You can be in the pocketbooks of every business in every other part of this town, but you leave Duskwall Street untouched or we're going to have trouble.”
“Y-you’re threatening us?”
“Why does everyone think I'm threatening them?” I flicked my ears in irritation. “It's simply the truth. Stay out of my fur, and I'll stay out of yours. Easy.”
“I'll tell him,” the Human assured me. “I promise I will. Just…don't hurt me…”
“I won't,” I replied. “But I am going to have to conk you out again before I set you free. Can't have you coming back to this place. And, moreover, I'd suggest you try to cut ties with that family of yours if you can. I doubt you'll find the opportunity, but take it if you do, before they turn you into vermin.”
With that, I strode over to him, pressing a chloroform-soaked rag to his face until his mind drifted away. Then, I placed a sack over top and lugged him out the door.
Best make this fast. Still need to melt the rest of that body this paw.
-
Memory transcription subject: Quinlim, Suspected Capozzi Family Associate
Date [standardized human time]: October 14th, 2136
“This is…troubling,” Don sighed.
Many of us had huddled into the back of the Drunken Venlil, an abruptly called meeting to discuss a recent development. A newer face, Gary, had been tasked with moving a small package of contraband, but he'd disappeared, then turned up near the distillery, completely unconscious. When he came to, he was inconsolable. Not once had I seen a Human look so terrified, like the common prey we were often encouraged to be.
“It's just one man,” Trilvri huffed. “Could he truly be a threat?”
“He's not normal!” Gary all but shouted. “You don't understand! There's something wrong upstairs, you can hear it in his voice!”
“Easy, gentleman,” Don raised a hand. “We can handle this business calmly and with civility. Trilvri, certainly you, of all people, would know the capabilities of but a single man.”
The dark-coated Venlil turned his face to the floor.
“This is different. One man can't take on the world. That's why we organize.”
“That is true,” Don admitted. “But how many men do you want to throw to the angry bear? If it takes three of our own lives to kill it, was it smart to encroach upon its territory?”
“It's just one street,” Ivan grumbled. “We can assume this ‘Duskwall Street Shadestalker' works there, yes? How many stores turned us away? Certainly, we could determine his identity and strike first without casualty.”
“It’s…only one street!” I interjected, still somewhat spooked from Gary’s demeanor. “Can't we just…leave it be?”
Don raised his hand again.
“Quinlim, I recognize your inclination to grant this specter's wish, but you must also recognize that he kidnapped one of The Family, one of us. He could be a danger to this community, and it would simply not be right to let him do as he pleases without consequence. That is how the guild operates, without honor.”
He turned to Trilvri, then to Ivan before continuing.
“However, I believe we all need to consider the practicality of this situation. There is a reason that Gary was left unscathed. If this ‘Shadestalker’ only asks for our lack of involvement, that is a reasonable request on its own. The guild appears to be his primary enemy. Perhaps it would be best to give a wide berth for a time.”
“So we're just going to let him get away with that, with what he did to Gary?” Mac asked, bewildered. “One of our own was kidnapped!”
“God, just let him go,” Gary pleaded. “I don't even care at this point. I've already seen enough.”
“We cannot turn a blind eye to his transgression completely,” Don rubbed his hands together. “But, for the time being, we will simply observe. As of now, we will cease operations on Duskwall street. This situation may turn to favor us in time.”
Mac looked like he was about to protest, but a stern glare from Ivan shut him down before he could begin.
“And what if he comes after us anyway?” Trilvri asked. “I don't suppose we'll leave him alone then.”
Don gave a wide smile.
“If he acts first, we need only show him The Family's extensive skill set.”
-
The Nature of Family

Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
Episode 11: Full Metal Drama
"Last week, on Total Drama Action. Our competitors took it on the chin as they faced an all-you-can-eat buffet of deadly natural disasters."
"But, it was Scott's own feet that tripped him up. His newly-broken bone took him out of the challenge, and cost him the use of an arm. A rough life for the dirt farmer, but his teammates had it even rougher."
"We threw the competitors into a submarine simulator and forced them to find their way out, and thanks to a certain bully using his brain rather than his brawn, both teams were able to live for another day."
"Sound tough? Get used to it!" The scene moved to a close-up of Chris standing in front of a building. "Because this week, it's all-out war!" The camera zoomed out, revealing a tropical war zone set, complete with sandbags, a bunker, a guard tower, and even a bomb lying on the ground. He pointed to a chart that had been set up next to him with drawings of tanks, fighter jets, and a dotted trail leading to an 'X'. "It's a desperate battle for survival, on Total! Drama! Action!"
(Theme Song)
The episode opened with a shot of the communal bathroom before the scene cut inside it.
MK and Scott were currently inside eating chips and drinking soda respectively in front of the sinks. “So how are you handling this broken arm situation?” MK asked her teammate.
“Horribly,” Scott grunted. “I use my right arm for everything, and with that broken, how am I supposed to whittle or scratch my armpits?”
MK winced at the last part. “Too much information.”
“It's bad enough that I have to wear this bandana until my brand is off completely,” Scott pointed at the orange cloth. “Having my arm in a sling will screw things up for us.”
“Tell me about it,” MK snorted. “And don't be a bummer. You're getting compensated for your injury.”
“I was getting to that, MK,” Scott said. “Because I threatened to sue them, I've been treated much better, especially by Chef who has to work extra as punishment for his secret alliance. I got my own bathroom to shower in, I got to eat actual quality food, and yesterday, they even told me that me and my family will receive a hundred thousand bucks just to make sure we won't take action.”
This information led to MK gaping. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as a barn burning down,” Scott nodded. “With this amount of money, we can finally get our farm reconstructed.”
“You can stop now before I get jealous, Scott,” MK told him.
“Yeah yeah,” Scott shook off. “So anyway, we have to talk about who we're gonna vote off next, and that would have to be Izzy.”
“Izzy? Why her?” MK raised an eyebrow.
“She just rejoined the game a couple of days ago, and we already have a history in season one,” Scott reasoned. “If we're not careful, she can convince Ripper and Chase to vote me out.”
“That is a reasonable explanation,” MK agreed. “But maybe we could get Chase on our side for the vote. Ripper likes Izzy, so he's not an option.”
“As long as we have more votes, Izzy will be taken down,” Scott smirked.
“Absolutely,” MK smiled back.
Confessional: MK
“...not!” MK said in the make-up trailer. “Me and Scott may be in an alliance, but in this game, we'd usually have to backstab each other to get what we want. If we lose, I'm obviously telling the team to gun for him. After the elimination ceremony, I'll have to make sure that I'm not gunned for, and I know just how to do that.”
Confessional Ends
The footage skipped forward, showing the contestants walking warily as Chris passed them in an army helmet and sunglasses. "Today, we're all about war movies," he told them, the shot zooming out to show Chef glaring nearby in his drill instructor's uniform.
"So, look lively you...," Chris began to say.
"Buckets of horse doo-doo!" Chef finished with a growl into their faces.
"So, get ready for the first death-defying challenge, you...," Chris began again.
"Disgustin' slimy crustaceans!" Chef finished once more.
"Move it, privates!" Chris ordered. "Fall in!"
"Sir yes sir!' the cast said as one.
Confessional: Izzy
"I have all the skills required to be a marine," Izzy said enthusiastically in the make-up confessional. "I am stealthy, tough, and loud enough, and I can handle a weapon, but I do value my freedom."
Confessional Ends
The camera cut to Ripper and MK as the Grips walked off. "I cannot wait to go to war," the techno girl said. "I've played my fair share of Battlefront, and my squad has won a lot of online multiplayer gaming titles. Most of the time, we don't even use teamwork."
“I hate to break it to you, but we're not in your little tech world,” Ripper said in an annoyed tone as the rest of the team joined in. “Just leave all the marine stuff to me today.”
“Let you do all the work and take all the credit?” MK glared. “Not happening, Buster.”
“Now wait a second-” Ripper began to glare back.
“Quit taking shots at each other!” Chase got in-between the two. “We can make a plan when we're at the challenge site, okay?”
“Seriously, I've seen my pigs fight over less,” Scott huffed as MK and Ripper continued to glare at each other.
Confessional: Ripper
“I'm really at my wits end with that shortstack,” Ripper complained. “Who does she think she is insulting and putting down the best looking guy on the show… me! Thankfully, MK won't be able to listen to me rant about her.”
Confessional: MK
MK was watching Ripper's previous confessional on her phone, especially the part about him bragging about himself. “It's so silly how he thinks I can't listen to everything he says,” she confessed after turning off her phone.
Confessionals End
The scene briefly flashed to the numbered studios with the sound of a plane engine in the background, the camera panning up to show the fake cliff before flashing to what looked like the inside of some kind of plane. The two teams were shown in a split screen with the Gaffers on top and the Grips on the bottom, all nine teens wearing blindfolds.
"Okay people," Chris said, "remove your blindfolds!" The contestants did as commanded, and the viewpoint shifted to show the teams sitting along opposite walls as the host walked in front of the camera. "When it comes to making a war movie," he said, the viewpoint moving again to show that he was standing next to a large trunk, "jumping out an airplane is the most dangerous stunt there is." He popped the trunk open, revealing several parachute packs within. "So naturally," he began to yell as he slid open a nearby door, the winds roaring inside the room, "it's our first challenge!"
MK and Scott gasped, as did Millie, and even Justin looked shocked.
"Chris really set the record for the shortest amount of time between the start of the challenge and our lives being endangered," Jasmine deadpanned over the roaring wind and engine.
“If we live, I'm going to file a complaint that's sure to get Chris replaced with a nicer and more considerate host,” Millie shouted.
“Nice grit for an underdog,” Jasmine grinned.
“Underdog?” Millie asked.
“Underdogs usually have a lot of fight and honor in them, and you've been tapping into it a lot,” Jasmine complimented her friend. “Keep it up.”
Millie felt flustered by her words. “I, uh, thank you.”
Justin soon sat in-between the two of them. “Jasmine, Millie! I want to propose something, but don't get excited, it's not marriage!” he chuckled. “Uh, anywho, it's a long way from the airplane to the ground below!”
“Exactly three kilometers!” Millie confirmed.
“Wouldn't know. Math is for ugly people,” Justin said. “Here's the deal! I need you two to jump before me in case I need a soft place to land, okay?!” The eye candy blinked his eyelashes only to receive blank stares from the girls. “Now, you girls know that I don't blink these eyelashes at just anybody!” He did the same thing again and got the same response. “Nothing?! When were your last eye exams?!”
"Drop zone approaching!" Chris announced after sticking his head out the open door. "Form a line, it's time to par-tay!"
The Gaffers were shown standing up as the host continued. "Stunt people undergo weeks of training before they parachute," he said as the Grips stood up as well, Jasmine walking forward hesitantly. "Luckily, we're gonna skip all that and get to the good part: Jumping!"
"That doesn't sound like a good idea!" Scott told the host.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Chris asked him.
"We die!" Anne Maria answered with annoyance and anger.
"I know!" Chris grinned. "Hilarious! Haha! Time to jump!"
"Well, there's no point standing here like statues," Izzy walked towards the trunk of parachutes with Scott.
“Hey McLean, can I skip out on the jump?” Scott asked. “My arm is broken!”
"Sorry Scott," Chris told him, "but you gotta jump too! Try not to land on your right arm, okay?" He then pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and turned his back on the now-enraged Scott.
“Someone's definitely going to increase the amount of money me and my family will get,” Scott whispered bitterly.
"At least we get parachutes," Chase told the injured boy.
"Actually, change of plans!" Chris interrupted, closing his phone and stowing it back in his pocket. "I just spoke to our research department, there were no parachutes in World War I!"
"So what do we do for the challenge?" Ripper asked.
"Simple," Chris replied as he shoved the trunk of parachutes out the door with his foot.
The contestants gasped, though a fearless Izzy was the first one to jump out the plane shouting “Tell my pet rock I love her!”
None of the other contestants made a move, though, and Chris scowled. "Okay, you kids better start jumping or I will have Chef tilt the plane and force you out!"
“That's all the motivation I need!” Chase said quickly and dived out into the air with a fearful cry.
"Who's up next?" Chris asked the remaining castmates with a smile.
The scene cut outside the plane as the contestants jumped out one by one. First MK, then Ripper, then Scott to round out the Gaffers with a terrified shout each as they quickly disappeared into the clouds below the plane. Next was Jasmine looking determined, followed by a shrieking Millie. Justin gulped and took the plunge, and Anne Maria came out last with a holler, and the host briefly looked out and below with a surprised look on his face before the clouds filled the scene.
They dispersed moments later to reveal all nine contestants in a heap on top of a large mattress.
"Hooray! We're alive!" Scott groaned. The camera zoomed out, showing that they were in a movie set. The plane was a wingless fake hanging from the ceiling only a few yards above the mattress, and the high winds were caused by a pair of giant fans operated by Chef Hatchet. On the back wall, level with the plane's windows and door, was a sky-patterned background made to continuously scroll and give the illusion of movement within the plane.
Chef shut off the fans, and the castmates groaned and began to get back up. "Let's roll, soldiers," Chris told them, now back on the ground. "Because the second part of this challenge is gonna blow your minds!" He grinned as he spoke before leaning towards the teens. "And everything else within a fifty-foot radius!"
Confessional: Chase
“If I had know that we would land on a mattress, I would’ve just let Chef force us all out,” Chase confessed.
Confessional Ends
The scene immediately flashed forward to a close-up of a green tarp being taken off a pile of grenades and bombs. "Are those," Jasmine asked as the camera pulled back to show her and the other Grips standing with Chris and the tarp-pulling Chef by a blast shield outside, "paint bombs?"
"We've divided the camp into two halves," Chris told them, the Grips watching with blank looks while the Gaffers were shown in a similar but mirrored position on the other side of the two men. "Most creative and controlled splatter wins."
“Alright gang,” Jasmine clapped her hands in order to get her team's attention. “Here's how our explosion is going to go. We'll have to lay our explosives in a pattern in order to make sure that the paint coverage will be more noticeable than the Gaffers’.”
“Excellent idea. I'll handle the explosives. I passed chemistry in my high school,” Millie eagerly walked off.
“Wonderful,” Jasmine smiled.
“I'll help as well,” Anne Maria said after she stopped using hairspray on her pouf. “I could ward off the other team by sprayin’ them in their eyes if they even think about spyin’ on us.”
“Not a big fan of harming our competition, but you do you,” Jasmine said uncertainly.
“And I'll be letting my butt have its beauty rest!” Justin chuckled suavely while laying back on a nearby hammock tied between two trees.
This did not go unnoticed by Anne Maria and Jasmine, who both flipped Justin off the hammock and into the ground.
“You're gonna help us with this challenge and not get any special treatment,” Jasmine scolded.
“Is it getting hot out here?” Justin took off his shirt and demonstrated his pecs. “Now if you'll notice, I don't sport a six-pack. I got twelve. That's a dozen smoking mandominals.”
“Get workin’, lazybones!” Anne Maria demanded and stomped off.
“This, this can't be right,” Justin panicked. “Have I really lost my lady controlling mojo?” He turned to the tallest member of the team. “Say it ain't so!”
“No need spouting the obvious, Justin,” Jasmine replied uncaringly.
“This challenge was designed for me!” Ripper told the Gaffers. “What do I not love more than exploding things?!”
“Being a numbskull, for instance,” MK retorted. “I seem to remember you saying that you let people do all the work for you. And we're supposed to trust you on this?”
“Adding my two cents onto this, I would've done the same thing if I was Ripper,” Scott added snidely.
“I'm sorry, MK, but I think we have to stick with Ripper on this one,” Chase said with a hand on MK's shoulder.
“Why?” MK objected. “I actually worked hard to get an A in chemistry.”
“Explosives Boy overrules Chemistry Girl,” Scott shrugged.
"Okay, time's up!" Chris announced, the camera cutting to his close-up as he entered the scene. "Uh-oh, looks like you didn't even get started."
“Not so fast, Chris!” the voice of Izzy cried out, and everyone turned their heads to see her smiling with her foot on a bomb and multiple bombs plastered around her team's site.
“Whoa. Now that's what I call thorough,” Chris narrated.
Chase hesitantly moved over to the curly haired girl. “Iz, what did you do?”
“Plant the explosives while you guys were at each other's throats,” Izzy giddily said.
Confessional: Izzy
“When Chris mentioned explosives and bombs, that was a sign that my team is lucky to have me on their side,” Izzy gloated. “I could blow up a hotel if I wanted to, but I refrain unless I'm extremely tempted.”
Confessional Ends
Another cut took the scene to the Grips, standing behind the blast shield that was between them and a set that was very much like the Gaffers', except that it had been mirrored. There were no visible bombs around, and they were all wired into a plunger held by Chris.
"Grips, are we ready?" Chris asked, handing the plunger over to Millie.
"Likewise," the writer said with a confident smile. As she pushed the plunger down, part of Richard Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' began to play in the background. One by one, explosions of green paint began to go off around the Grips' area – in the guard tower, behind the sandbags, near the bunker door, and several off the bunker's roof. The music ended as one final explosion splattered the blast shield, stunning Anne Maria, Jasmine, and Justin.
As the dust cleared around their blast site, the camera pulled back to reveal a massive rendition of the Grips' light-bulb-and-crossbones logo in green paint.
"Nice show of team spirit," Chris told the four.
"I must say, that was very impressive," Justin admitted to Millie as the host walked away.
"What can I say? I wanted to make an explosion that would be mind-blowing, but still tame," Millie told him smugly. "You're welcome."
The shot cut back to the Gaffers' side of the camp, starting on their explosive-laden set before panning over to the five waiting behind their blast shield with Chris.
"Are we ready to blow it up?" Chris asked excitedly, with Izzy standing by a larger plunger than what the Grips had used.
"We're ready! Uno, dos, tres!!!" Izzy chanted and eagerly pushed the plunger down.
Almost immediately, a chaotic series of explosions were set off all around the base. They were accompanied by hectic and disjointed notes in the background music, and the host and other four Gaffers were shown cringing with their fingers in their ears. Eventually the explosions stopped, the dust settled, and everyone except Izzy leaned past the paint-splattered wall with curious expressions.
The camera panned to the left, showing what appeared to be a shapeless blob of paint. No patterns were apparent in it, and the areas that had been left untouched seemed to be random as well.
"Welp, at least it was controlled..." Chris said with a frown.
“Just come over here,” Izzy grabbed the host by the wrist and dragged him over to another spot.
"Hey, there's no touching the host!" Chris said indignantly, yanking his hand free as soon as Izzy stopped moving.
"Look now!" Izzy directed his attention back to the pain splatter.
Chris turned his head, and almost immediately began to brighten up. "It's...it's…beautiful!" he said, wiping away a tear as the viewpoint moved behind him, showing Izzy's paint pattern from another angle – it took the shape of the host's own grinning face.
"The Gaffers are victorious!" he announced, walking back to the other Gaffers by the blast wall. The Gaffers began to cheer and celebrate. "It is my honor to present your prize," Chris added just before Chef appeared wheeling a large and ornate-looking red chest on a handcart. "The Big Trunk of Mind-Blowing Secrets! You'll be defending it with your very lives when we return to more, Total! Drama! Action!"
The shot cut back with each word of the title, showing the defeated Grips standing by in shame.
(Commercial Break)
The episode came back on a shot of the cloudy sky, panning down to show Scott and Chase standing together by a potted palm tree.
"So what is it that you want to talk to me about?" Chase asked. "If it's to brag about your luxuries, then I don't want to hear it."
"It's not about that, Chase," Scott rolled his eyes. “I wanna talk about who we have to vote off tonight.”
“What do you mean “we”?” Chase grew curious. “I know who I'm going to vote for, and it doesn't take Einstein to figure out who it is.”
“I know I'm not the coolest kid on the block, but we have to pick off Izzy,” Scott suggested.
“And why would I do that?” Chase asked.
“She's a wild card, and she got back into the competition not once, but twice,” Scott emphasized. “Do you really want to face off against her in the finale?”
Scott left the athletic boy alone to ponder about his decisions.
The footage flashed forward to Chris McLean standing by the trunk he'd brought out. "Contestants, get ready to begin your next war challenge!" he announced. "It's a giant game of 'Capture the Flag', except in this case the flag is the Trunk of Mind-Blowing Secrets!" The camera zoomed in on the trunk at an angle, and the ornate thing seemed to glow radiantly.
"There's only one way to learn what's in the trunk," he told the off-screen castmates, "and that's to win the challenge. As your reward, we'll give you immunity from tonight's vote, aaaanndd a peek inside. But be ready. The secrets inside will blow your brains to bits!"
"I need my brain!" Ripper whined.
"Not to worry," Chris told him, holding up a roll of duct tape. "A roll of tape will be provided so you can tape the gray matter back together."
"Gaffers," Chris said as he walked over to what looked to be a building covered in a sheet bearing the logo of the Screaming Gaffers, "this is your base camp." Chef watched from close by, his hands angrily on his hips, as the host and the five teens began to arrive, Chase and Izzy carrying the trunk by the pair of poles sticking out on opposite sides. "Our set decoration team wanted to build you guys a towering castle, full of defensive possibilities! But, they went to see a movie instead, sooo..." Chris trailed off as Chef grabbed the sheet. "We're gonna give you this!"
The sheet was pulled away, revealing an utterly decrepit wooden shack. "I think it's a tool shed," the host said uncertainly before the building creaked and collapsed into a dusty heap of rotten planks and miscellaneous garden tools. "Was a tool shed," Chris corrected. "Good luck!"
"How are we gonna defend this big trunk out in the open?" Izzy asked.
"We just have to put our heads together and come up with a plan," MK answered.
“You guys do what you want. I'll be setting some booby traps,” Chase told the team and walked away.
“In first World War movies, the soldiers would always have underground hiding places,” MK said as she gave Izzy a shovel and held one of her own. “Those would be foxholes.”
“With me digging, why not call it a foxy-hole,” Izzy quipped.
“I'm just glad that I don't have to dig at all,” Scott bragged. “Using one hand only won't make the job faster.”
As Izzy began to dig rapidly with Scott watching her, MK turned to Chase and Ripper laying a net down on the ground with headlights attached. “Chase, Ripper, the rest of us agreed on a plan,” she informed. “We could use a little help.
“And we could also use you shutting up!” Ripper retorted. “We're busy!”
Confessional: MK
“If I wasn't so focused on strategy, I'd switch targets from Scott to Ripper just to spite his butt,” MK sniffed. “It's hard finding common ground with that jerk.”
Confessional Ends
The footage cut back with a shot of MK and Izzy digging a large hole in the distance and Scott observing them as though viewed through binoculars. "So what's going on?" Millie asked off-camera as the binoculars were lowered and the viewpoint shifted to Jasmine.
"Izzy and MK are currently digging and Scott is just standing there," Jasmine explained, "although I don't know if it's because they want to bury the trunk or construct a foxhole."
"What about the others?" Anne Maria asked.
"I don't know," Jasmine replied. "Ripper and Chase seem to have disappeared."
"I say we attack immediately!" Anne Maria declared with an air of formality.
"I say we don't," Millie shook her head. "The team obviously outnumber us and have defensive capabilities. Confronting them at this point would be really dumb."
"So what do we do?" Justin asked.
"What we need to do is to proceed intelligently if we want to win the challenge," Millie said.
“Sure. Let’s wait for the other team to set up more traps that will never let us get that trunk,” Anne Maria said sarcastically.
“That’s not what we’re going to do, Anne Maria,” Jasmine assured. “Millie, how are we gonna go about doing this?”
"We should send two people down there in order to figure out what they’re up to," Millie suggested. "That honor should go to Justin and Anne Maria."
"And why us?" Justin objected.
"Me and Jasmine need to think of a plan number two in case this plan fails," Millie reasoned. "All you guys have to do is execute this one."
"Whatever you say, Mil," Anne Maria said before grabbing Justin’s arm and walking away. "Let's go, hot stuff."
Confessional: Anne Maria
“I’m kinda surprised that Justin didn’t try to weasel his way outta the plan,” Anne Maria confessed. “What’s his game?”
Confessional: Justin
“We really need to win this challenge,” Justin said seriously. “By the look of things, my charms aren’t going to win the girls over and I’ll likely be the one going home today. So for the sake of my game, I’ll help out.”
Confessionals End
The footage skipped ahead to Anne Maria and Justin charging into the clearing the Gaffers started. "Where are they?" Justin asked after they stopped. “Jasmine just saw them.”
"Split up and look in other directions," Anne Maria ordered. “They may be hidin’ someplace else.”
The camera zoomed into the hole the Gaffers were in. "So how long do we have to stay in here for?" Izzy asked MK.
"Hopefully long enough for the Grips to admit defeat," MK answered.
"We’re good for now. We just have to not act stupid and blow our cover," Scott said while rubbing his sling. “And I don’t normally do this, but good job on the explosion, Izzy. It really helped us win the first part.”
Izzy was stunned to hear this. “Did you just… compliment me?” the wild child asked.
“Yeah, I did,” Scott replied. “I thought you’d just make a random explosion given how nuts you are, but you actually planned it out.”
“Yeah, how did you come up with the plan to just demonstrate Chris’s face?” MK asked.
“Chris is extremely narcissistic and vain,” Izzy explained. “Anything that revolves around his image will make him score us big points.”
“You’re not joking about that,” MK rolled her eyes. “He’s more likely to marry himself.”
The scene cut to Justin and Anne Maria meeting up with each other in front of the Gaffers' hideout. "Were you able to find the Gaffers? Because I could not," Justin said.
“I had no luck as well,” Anne Maria recapped.
The camera zoomed out to reveal that the duo were on top of the net trap, and they got hoisted up in the air by it.
"Got you dorks!" Ripper's laughing voice said off screen. The camera cut to him coming out of a nearby tree. "Chase, now!"
Chase's yell was heard as he swung on a cord before landing in front of the two Grips. He cut the rope holding the net trap, and Anne Maria and Justin were flung out of sight.
The camera cut back to the Grips' starting location. Millie and Jasmine watched in shock as their teammates crashed into the ground and groaned after they landed, prompting them to go check on their moaning teammates.
“There's, there's a... there's a scratch!” Justin said after feeling his face. “My face can't continue to take all this abuse! I'm losing it! You… you… you gotta let me go on leave!”
“I ain’t buyin’ any of this,” Anne Maria scoffed as she stood up and rubbed the dirt off her clothes.
“We all get scratches. I got a mosquito bite on my neck once, but that didn’t stop me from going to my job,” Jasmine lectured.
Anne Maria and Jasmine walked off, and Justin turned his eyes to Millie. “Millie, I know you’re a female. Can you help?”
“You were able to have girls wrapped around your finger, and now you’re getting zero play,” Millie summarized with apathy.
“You really are quick-witted,” Justin said in surprise.
“Relationship with Chase aside, I don’t really think you’re that cute,” Millie said. “Why else did I not want to kiss you in that challenge?”
“Like I care what you think,” Justin shot back in an offended manner and finally got off the ground.
Confessional: Justin
“Me? Not cute? I'll tell you who's not cute. Blind people named Millie!” Justin stated, upset.
Confessional Ends
"So it seems that the Gaffers will not come out until they're sure that we forfeit," Millie told her team.
"Which we’re not going to do," Jasmine said.
"Wasn't even planning on it," Anne Maria told her. "We should attack again the minute they show their faces, and I have a way to make sure that we’ll take that trunk."
"You two definitely have to help us this time," Justin reminded Jasmine and Millie. "We'll be outnumbered otherwise."
The footage returned to the Gaffers, Ripper and Chase now with them. "How much time do we have left?" Izzy childishly asked her team.
"I don't know and I don’t care, but we're still staying in this joint until time is up," MK declared.
"How many traps did you guys even set up while you were gone?" Scott questioned Chase and Ripper.
"We set up a total of four," Chase claimed. "Anne Maria and Justin hit one of them, so now we have three."
“This is why you shouldn’t doubt us, MK,” Ripper told his short teammate.
“I didn’t doubt you. I just wanted you to stay and help us,” MK argued. “And just because the other team set off one trap, doesn’t mean that I have to worship you like you’re Jesus,” she said before smirking, “and there’s no way you’re even next to godliness.”
“Pot calling the kettle black much?” Ripper snorted. “I still helped out, even if it wasn’t by your rulebook.”
“MK smart, Ripper strong,” Chase interrupted. “Can we all just agree that we’re special in our own ways?”
Ripper and MK frowned at each other and sighed.
“You’re not as dumb as you look,” MK grumbled.
“And you’re not an extreme big mouth,” Ripper mumbled.
“Good. I’m done playing mediator for the day,” Chase said.
"This is getting boring," Izzy moaned impatiently. "We should just go out there and attack the Grips."
"I’m tired of waiting as well," Scott spoke up. “Those losers are not getting our trunk.”
"We’re done arguing today, so how about we put it to a vote?" Ripper suggested.
"All in favor of going in for battle?" Chase asked as he raised his arm up, as did Ripper, Scott, and Izzy.
"I’m clearly outnumbered here,” MK sighed. “We'll go out in the open, but bring the trunk along."
The scene flashed to the Gaffers coming out of their hole and putting their trunk down. They saw the Grips charging at them, and they prepared themselves.
"There’s four of them and five of us," Scott took note with a grin. "I’m liking our odds already."
“But how are we going to take them down exactly?” Chase asked.
Izzy whipped out a smoke bomb from behind her back and held it up high. “Smoke bomb! Never leave home without it!”
As soon as the Grips reached their site, Izzy proceeded to throw the bomb at them. The Grips froze at the sight of this, but Anne Maria took out two hair spray cans, and after the smoke bomb hit the floor, a large white cloud covered the screen, but Anne Maria was able to spray their way out of it, and the team resumed running.
“Retreat!! Retreat!!” Izzy ordered her team, but it was too late when Anne Maria threw her spray cans on the floor in front of the Gaffers, and after they exploded, the Gaffers coughed profusely due to the extreme stench, leaving the trunk alone for the Grips to grab.
“So long, Gaffers!” Anne Maria taunted. “Grips rule!”
The scene cut to the Grips dropping the trunk on the floor after they returned to their site. “And that’s how we win it!” Anne Maria boasted.
"Time's up!" a sudden announcement came as Chris walked into view along with the other castmates. "The Grips have stolen the chest, putting them in the winner's circle."
"That means," Chris added while walking towards the Gaffers, "the Gaffers will be sending home one of their own tonight. And now, it's time to reveal to the winners," a reverent tune began to play as a spotlight was placed on the trunk, "the mind-blowing secrets within this trunk! Here's what you were fighting for, team!" The lid popped open, and Jasmine and Millie looked inside.
Their grins rapidly faded away as the reverent music came to a sudden and scratchy stop. "All that work," Millie said with a shocked look as a lighter and more emotional melody began to play.
"All that pain," Jasmine added.
"Pain?" Millie asked in confusion. "We rarely got hurt!"
"Still," Jasmine continued quickly, "all this for what?"
"A trunk that was empty the whole time!" Millie declared.
"War is a cruel, cruel thing," Jasmine concluded.
The Gilded Chris Ceremony began with all its usual fanfare, and after the introduction the footage flashed straight on to Chris standing at his podium. "This one's a nail-biter," he told the five seated teens. "I'd say no one's safe tonight. Izzy, how do you feel about your chances?"
The camera cut over to Izzy, sitting on the highest level of the bleachers. "Honestly, I feel pretty good about them," she said with a smile. "I was the one that scored my team the win for the first part of the challenge, and if I were to be going home today, it'd likely be because I blew the challenge."
“Or because you reverted back to your impersonations like E-Scope,” Ripper added.
“That's a thing of the past, Ripper,” Izzy said.
"Then," Chris continued, "there's Scott. Although you didn't cost your team the challenges or throw them on purpose, you didn't contribute much. Plus, your broken arm makes you a bit of a liability. Will you be the one sitting in the Lame-o-sine tonight?"
“We'll just have to see it to believe it,” Scott deadpanned.
"Chase, MK, Ripper!" Chris said with a broad smile. "Seems your tussles aren't entertaining anybody, not even your team. Are you worried?"
"Why would I? This team needs me, man!" Ripper shot a cocky smile.
"Alright then," Chris announced, "votes have been tabulated!" A folded card parachuted into view next to him, and he quickly snatched it up and held it to his forehead without bothering to read its contents. The tension began to build in the music. "So, it's time to present the awards. Tonight, the Gilded Chris goes to...MK, Ripper, and...Chase!" he said in succession, each name followed by the sound of an award being thrown and caught. "And now, only two nominees left."
The background music picked up as the screen was split, with spotlights on Izzy on the left and Scott on the right. "The final award goes to...," Chris said slowly as Scott watched nervously while Izzy smiled and held two fingers up to the camera. "Izzy!"
The camera panned left slightly as the wild child caught her golden statuette. "Hold on, wha?" Scott stammered in shock. "This has to be a joke, right?"
“No, it isn't,” MK said with a grin, “and you have me to thank for that.”
“You… you backstabbed me?!” Scott said with a bit of shock and anger.
“With four votes to one,” MK cackled. “I just did what you did to your previous alliance. Don't get all hypocritical.”
"Unbelievable!" Scott grumbled before he was grabbed by Chef and carried over the shoulder down the Walk of Shame.
Confessional: Izzy
“This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of Scott after all he's done in the first season,” Izzy said. “I'd be dumb to pass this up.”
Confessional: Chase
“Even with Scott trying to convince me otherwise, there was no way I wasn't going to vote him off,” Chase told the audience. “Besides, he can heal his broken arm off the show.”
Confessional: MK
“It's not hard getting people to vote off a disliked contestant, especially if that someone was the villain of last season,” MK mentioned. “I can't be tied down to Scott for much longer, and this is my season to shine!” she ended her confessional on a serious note.
Confessionals End
Scott was unceremoniously thrown into the waiting limousine by Chef. The door slammed shut, the limo sped off, and the camera cut back to a close-up of Chris.
"Well, we finally got rid of Scott the Schemer," he told the camera. "With him gone, hopefully we can stop providing benefits for him and not have to worry about being sued. Catch you next time," he said with a salute, "on Total! Drama! Action!" He ended the salute and put his hands behind his back, then smiled as he said "At ease!"
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
“I can't believe it!!” Scott grunted in the limousine. “MK totally duped me! Though given how much my team was against me, I knew I wasn't going to last this time,” he admitted reasonably. “Seems MK's this season's baddie, and an effective one she is. I'm still expecting the hundred thousand dollars to be delivered to me if it's the last thing the show will do for me. With me out of the game, I don't have to be forced to endanger my arm just for views, and maybe the next time you guys see me, I won't have this bandana around my forehead. The brand should be gone by now.” He used his good arm to take the bandana off, and was surprised by how little the branded “S.U.C.K.E.R.” was on his forehead. “Well would you look at that? I don't think I'll be needing this anymore.” He rolled down the window and tossed the cloth out, and then winced in pain afterwards and clutched his injured arm.
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - RETURNED
Trent - 12th
Sky - 11th
Brick - 10th
Scott - 9th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper

Blaze 3: Demonic Arc 3: Soul Snatchers³
Last time, Draum was in trouble. The Soul Snatcher,.Meiji had his sixth tube ready to take his soul. Find out what happens now. Someone appears and stops it. He looks like Draum and has a metal right hand. Meiji" Why you! You enterupt me again and see what happens. I was almost done." Draum gets a look at him and says" Brother." Everybody acknowledges that Draum has a brother. Meiji" Your brother got his ass in the way. You're lucky that time is up. I won't forget your faces." He retreats with the Soul Snatchers. Eyashi" Remember what he said. Times up. A very interesting choice of words. Can you introduce your brother to us?" Draum" Sure. This is Flewto Dois, my younger brother." Flewto" Years ago. Me and my brother were apart of this group called the Hydro Corps. They are basically a Black Police Force. Whatever they want they take. They even had a black market. They wanted to become top of the world and to be noticed. They were even trying to get rich and become the riches company in Japan. They don't care how your task gets done. As long as it's done. Sodum Hydro is the leader of the operation. He sent me to this very cold place called Swalla. It was ice in the area. Eventually, a storm occurred. I don't even know what happened. All I know is there was this person who saved me. When I opened my eyes, my right hand was gone. I felt really dizzy and passed out. This guy started fixing my hand. We had a little talk.
He said what kind of a person sends someone out here to there death. After talking, he put some sense into me. I walked away and felt free. I chosed to help people rather than hurt them. We only joined to get some respect. We were tired of people talking down to us." Draum" I joined way before I became a cyborg. When you guys saw me, I was still with the Hydro Corps. I was enjoying myself and was his top guy. His right hand man basically. I never did not complete a mission. There was this one incident that changed. I was on a mission and was setting everything ablaze. I didn't know there was this little kid who was burnt then died. It put me in a state of shock. I vowed to never hurt innocent people again and I never went back to the Hydro Corps. His mission was complete but at what cost and if I ever ran into him, he'd be a dead man. I was there loner than Flewto." Flewto" We ended up getting separated from one another. I searched everywhere but I never could find you until now. It feels good to see you." Draum" Same here." Draum's name comes from the word drum(obviously)and his brother's name from a flute. Draum's name also from DBZ. I found a way to spell and pronounce it in a unique way.
My characters were based from DBZ characters early on. I even took some moves and modified them. The Moon Blade comes from the Destructo Disc. Phil's Wind Burner comes from Tri Beam. Kikio #10 comes from Kamehameha. Sky Rocket Finger- Special Beam Cannon. Lock On Barrage- Hell Zone Grenade. Other moves as well. Blaze originally was nothing but a DBZ and Bleach ripoff. Very unoriginal. Haden was a straight parody character of Vegeta. I had trash and childish ideas. No way these ideas were good enough for a real Manga or anime. I thought Blaze was the best ever made back then. It took many years but Blaze finally start to get better. I even made Haden a better character. There's a big difference between my character and DBZ/Bleach characters. Rather than me ripping off characters fully. Blaze became it's own thing and had an identity. This is the best Blaze is going to be. So far. Blaze IV has a longer rant. It will be talked about on Blaze IV. Rant over. This has always been a dream of mine to show people what Blaze is.
Fasha" So how does your hand work?" Flewto" It's not like my brother's. I can absorb heat but my arm doesn't come off. So what were those things you were fighting?" Eyashi" We call them Soul Takers. They have tubes but we had no idea that they could have 6. So we wanted to know if you'd join us?" Flewto" Now what kind of a question is that? Of course I'll join you. I want you to know that I'm the nice one." Draum" What's that supposed to mean?" Zushi" That's excellent. More people is great." They all get together and discuss what happened. Flewto is introducd to the others. During meetings, CJ is not there. Eyashi" The strong Soul Snatchers have multiple of tubes. The one Draum was fighting had 6 tubes. H e was also no pushover. He was stronger than the regular ones." MaXx" Strong. We could barely beat the first ones and now we have to fight ones with 6 tubes. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it." Draum" When I fought him, he was in control until I revealed my abilities. Then I was in control but not that long. We even felt equal at one point. That's when he used the tubes on me and I would've been a goner if Flewto didn't show up. Eyashi and the others were there but he had a tube come from the ground and noone saw it. Sneaky bastard." Zushi" Togyu Manji has been finally targeted. At first I thought Togyu was a target spot."
Fasha" Same here. After finding out about the tubes and Togyu Manji, we have to regroup. This is going to be a drag. We don't want it to be like Conithio Town." Julmbo" Every time I think about it, it puts a bad taste in my stomach." Eyashi" He even brought my name up. Who the hell are they working with? This mystery person has to go." Haden" I told you. They're obviously working with the demons. But I can't think of who the fuck they are. This is pissimg my off. They think they're slick. Trying not to show themselves while we're out here struggling. Son of a bitch." Eyashi" Calm down there." Haden" I can't calm down. Somebody's fucking with us." MaXx" Can it big mouth." Haden" What was that? I don't think I heard you!" MaXx" I know got damn well you heard me! You troll." Haden" Troll! You look like a muscled panda bear." They get all in in each other's faces and continues to argue. Corroshi gets in the middle and separates them. Eyashi" Now where were we? The demons are being aided. I got something. We could monitor the demons actions." Phil" What do you mean Eyashi.?" We'll put surveillance cameras up. Then we'll see what they're up to. This way we might be able to see where they're coming from." It is still night. Everyone discusses the plans. A quick scene shows Rade laughing. The surveillance cameras are set up. This is days later but you know that nothing is going to happen and is intended.
A few nights later, everyone is sleeping all comfortably. Eyashi gets a feeling and wakes up. He goes outside and is an ambush. Koken" We've been waiting for you. You're pretty cute for a human." Eyashi" I don't date out of my species." Koken" Thought we had something here." Meiji and Jenmei are there and attack. Eyashi" Who are you working with?" Jenmei" Now now. You know we can't spill that info." Eyashi dashes around and avoids getting hit. He does a really good good job at lasting. He battles Jenmei by herself to see what she's made of. As Eyashi fights, he appears behind her and launches a wind blast attack. It sends her far. Jenmei retaliates with a spit ball attack. Eyashi kicks it away. She does it again. She continued to spam it but much faster. She sends out doubles. Eyashi is still faster and is able to send some back to her but gets hit. Eyashi engages in hand to hand combat. Eyashi uses speed combos. He kicks her in the air then performs a ferocious uppercut with wind effects. Jenmei summons her weapon. Eyashi summons his weapon Hyoto. As he hits her blade(clashes), his body begins to vibrate. He can't move and gets beat up. His vision gets blurry. The others join in and Eyashi is in trouble. They launch a blast attack all together. Eyashi is no where to be found. They leave. Eyashi used a device that shrinks him. He returns to his regular size.
Eyashi wakes up Phil. People like the Justice Drivers are at a hotel. Away from Eyashi. Zushi has two houses. One in Hausada and the other in Togyu Manji. When the others are all together, they stay at Eyashi's secondary home or Haden's place. Eyashi" Wake up Phil!" Phil wakes up and says" What is it?" Eyashi" They were here. It was three of them." Phil" More Soul Takers." Eyashi" I know they were the strong ones. The one from a few nights ago was there." Phil" Did you say a few nights ago? It seems they are targeting you at night." Eyashi" Yeah but why me? I think they want me out of the picture." Phil" Why are you their goal? Eyashi" This person knows me and the others very well. What am I known for?" Phil" Coming up with the strategies." Eyashi" And without me." Phil" The pieces would start to fall." Eyashi" Correct. The problem is we haven't seen this person's face yet. Whoever they are, they are very brilliant. Too brilliant. When I was fighting one on one, she put up an excellent fight. She never used a tube but I know she's like the other one. It would turn into 3 on 1. I even had to evacuate the situation. Now it could be that the strong Soul Takers were sent to take me out. Think about this. What do these Soul Takers want? They are taking souls but why? There's gotta be a leader just like the Dark Phantom. Another Soul Taker giving orders. But that could also mean that there's another mastermind out there because the other person can't be a Soul Taker and knows us really well.
This person is aiding the demons and must be stop. We're getting somewhere. They're using the demons for something. This person has a thing for the demons. Could it be. The only person that I know is Hauge Utama."(Eyashi's former partnePhil's 2nd master) Flashbacks shown. Phil was a little boy at the time. He made diffent creations. During one of his inventions, he wanted Phil to help him with it. Wanted to uses Phil for a test. Eyashi would come just in time and didn't think he was good news. They didn't see each other again. Was trying to see if he could turn people into demons. Eyashi and Hauge became partners because of their passion and love for creating. Hauge's passion for the demons started to grow because he'd heard that it is unusual for humans to go to the Underworld and wanted to be the first. This would give him that goal. Flashback over. Phil" I remember that guy. Do you really think so? It sure does add up." Eyashi" It's not a definite but I'll put it in consideration." Eyashi checks the Cameras and watches the footage. He sees where they came from and follows. Eyashi" There's gotta be a spot where they're coming from. We are going to find it." Phil" Right!"
Next scene. New characters/large oranization shown. Black Widow. It used to be one of the character's series but got charged. I drew pictures of characters but for some reason I chosed to title the picture and give it a series name. Like they're real TV shows. Then that character would be the only one I drew a picture of. All of the characters that I did that with were all wasted but I'm going to be putting them in use. Kissiske came from a drawing. Brutal Style Mokamoda. It was never going to be used for it's own series. I was only using the character's names from the pictures and used them in Blaze. All these characters fit into Blaze perfectly. Just like Geo. Characters: Mayuni Inime, Hiruyasumi Kataki/Hiru(male), Yui Yamamaya(Techno World Raider academy/female), Ambereigh Shihu(female), Tishou Zahnyumio(male), Assassin Killer(Sevichihe Sekemiocho/Assassin's Force), Komiyone Ketsa(female), Sobiota Heimiente(High-me-n tay/female), Michael Soho, Hikaru Inoue(e-no-eh/female), Jack Sparker, Thunder and Skarr.
This was supposed to be Mayuni's group but I've added extra people. Hair color: long Red. Yui's hair color: yellow pigtails. Her series was Techno World Raider. It will be an academy now. Techno will be short for technology because techno is a music genre. It sounds cooler than Tech World Raider. This school teaches people how to use technology and raiding world. They travel to different worlds and get graded based on their performance. The Black Widow has high schools and colleges to go to. The Black Widow is a very large organization with other companies partnered with. Only people with unique powers can attend. Similar to Zushi's school. Mayuni is with the Soul Program. They deal with Soul Hunting and try to see who gets the most collected. They also see how strong they're blade will be. Upgrading weapons. She was supposed to be a female Sid but there's already a character who is a much better Sid than Mayuni. In Blaze IV. She's around Sid's age. Each character is the highest person in their class. Hiruyasumi's hair color: orange. Hiruyasumi used to be a future character. Had a Soul Killer's Gauntlet, the Dragon Flare, another sword and used the E.F.S. First weapon is called Tetsfago)tets-fah-go). Second blade is called Drago(like Dragon). Swordsmen Course.
Ambereigh's hair color: light green. Huntress. Hunt things like dogs and ect. Became a Bounty Hunter. Tishou's hair color: black. Black person. Combat Fighher. Self discipline class that specializes in hand to hand combat. Sevichihe's hair color: blonde. Assassin's Force. Komiyone's hair color: brown. Archeress. Archer Class. Level: Hunter Archeress. Sobiota's hair color: silver. Sorceress. Magic Club. Michael Soho's hair color: brown. Superhero Administration. Hikaru's hair color: green. Ninja. Ninja academy. Jack Sparker's hair color: yellow. Gunslinger. Specializes in different gun choices. High tech weapons as well. Thunder's hair color: light orange. Spaceman Program. Wear cool gears and battles. Gears will be upgraded. Points given to the best. They'll be judges grading. Skarr's hair colors: light orange and light red. Virtual Gladiator. A video game world where you can choose your arena. Special suits worn for certain arenas. Weapons changes to. There's a lot of challenges to choose from. Both are best friends and are both short but Skarr is shorter. Thunder and Skarr came from my brother's characters, lightning and Sonic. They were created for an E for Everyone video game because I didn't have any ideas at the time. Similar to games like Sonic the Hedgehog, Mario, Crash Bandicoot, Jack and Daxter, Daxter, Ratchet and Clank, Spyro, Fortnight, Minecraft and other games. They weren't supposed to be humans. Some of the characters are adults/college. Different ages.
Mayuni is shown after school. Mayuni's phone is ringing and is an urgent call. Her boss says" We're going to need you to go by the cathedral. Some people called saying they saw something strange and it freaked them out. I'm going to need you to head over asap." Mayuni" Heading out." Her boss is named Yori Tsuyoku(means stronger). Mayuni looks around after getting there. She comes across this woman. Woman says" Thank goodness that someone came. I was getting worried." Mayuni" I was just doing what was right." I need your help with something." Mayuni" What is it?" Woman says" I need your help looking for someone. My boyfriend fought these strange creatures. I believe he's still alive." Mayuni" I got you. Just point me in the right direction and I'll help." Woman says" It was outside by the bushes." A sound is heard from the bushes. Woman says" What's that?" A creature appears. Mayuni launches a blast wave attack. Woman says" That wasn't it." Mayuni" What does it look like?" Woman says" Well it has this funny looking skin and these weird tubes." A couple of people startled them. Mayuni" There're other people here?" Woman says" That's great." They talk about nearly dying. Demons appear and the people scatter. Mayuni kills them and look for the others. She goes into a building. It is very dark. She sees somebody moving and gets freaked out a little. She sees the woman from earlier moving weirdly. On the ground.
Mayuni" Hey are you okay? Hello." Somebody touches her from behind. Mayuni turns around and sees the woman again. Mayuni" What in the hell is going on here?" She turns around and the woman is gone. She turns back around and doesn't see her there. Mayuni" I have to maintain myself. I have to get out of here alive." She goes to a kitchen area and sees lot's of people. Mayuni" Good I found more people." They aren't saying anything. They begin to blurt out random nonsense. One of them brings up the tubes. Mayuni" Yes. I'm looking for creatures who have tubes. Did you encounter any?" One of them says yes and right now. She looks and sees tubes. Their voices randomly changes. They charge after her. Mayuni can't win and retreats from the battle. She is back at the base. Yori Tsuyoku is the chairman of the Black Widow meaning he has the most so say in the company. He can even give commands to any department that he wants. Yori used to be a Soul Hunter awhile back then became a Soul Hunter teacher. The last owner was a company man and the Black Widow used to be a passed down company until Yori took over. The last owner was Bijinesuman(means business man). He did a great job at holding his own but that was his good years. Afterwards there was a declining with his decisions. He couldn't lead a war and many people suffered because of his insubordination. He was allowing the wrong people to live and get away. He was getting to old, senile and was losing his touch. His passion slowly turned into stubbornness. He hated changing his rules.
Bijinesuman was then targeted by a group that conspired against him and then he was assassinated. Yori had the highest scores at the Soul Academics(college)/ Black Widow and was considered valid to be the next head. He'd become the 500th head. Within the history of Black Widow, every odd number has a very unlucky reign. It is considered bad luck to have a odd number. If Mayuni would take over number 501 then she has to prepare herself. Back to story. They live in Kanta Japan. Eastern Japan. The area is Burakkubēsu(ber-ahk-koo-bay-soo)/(means black base). Mayuni has arrived at the base. Mayuni sees Yori and he says" Ah. Mayuni you're back. So how was it?" Mayuni" Sir! It's some bad news for you." Yori" Well what did you encounter?" Mayuni" When I went to find people I didn't see anyone at first but eventually I saw this woman who wasn't with anyone. She was talking about her husband and wanted me to find him. Long story short. She talked about creatures having tubes and funny looking skins. This creepy moment happened where I saw someone move on the ground and it was her. Someone also grabbed me. When I looked back, it was that same woman but the one from on the ground was gone. It was very rough for me to digest it." Yori" I know you're afraid. You don't like creepy stuff. LOOK WHAT'S THAT!" Mayuni" Whaaat!! Where? Why you do that?" Yori" I just was having some fun. Cheer up." He laughs.
Mayuni" You didn't have to do that. Back to where I was. I then ran into more people but little did I know they weren't humans. It turned out they were the creatures with the tubes and funny skin. Even that woman was one of them. Their voices changed and their appearance. I tried fighting but they were completely different and somehow so I ran. I've never seen anything like this before." Yori" I tell you what, I'll go with you tomorrow. How's that sound? Will you be OK going with me?" Mayuni" That sounds excellent. See you tomorrow." Mayuni is a very nice and positive person. Has a great personality and is always looking forward to the next task. The next day is here. They are at the cathedral but don't see anyone. Yori" It looks pretty empty." Mayuni" I guess we have to keep looking." The creatures appear but they don't say anything(Yori and Mayuni). The creatures are below them. There are people below as well. They suck their souls out. Mayuni" Did you see that?" Yori" That was nuts. What are they?" Mayuni" We have to find out." They follow them quietly. Mayuni whispers" Shouldn't we help? Those were innocent people." Yori whispers" You saw what they they did. Do you want to be next?" They stay quiet and watch out. The Soul Snatchers come across more people. Mayuni blows their cover and stops them. Yori has to improvise and covers her. They both ingage in combat.
It is taking rather too long. Mayuni summons her blade, Widowka. It has bandages wrapping it up. Underneath the bandages is an eyeball carved on the blade. Can blink. Is much stronger without the bandages and is considered a cursed blade. Very unstable. Large and heavy just like Rischardo's and Sid's blade. Widowka is level 2(with souls absorbed). Resembles Nightmare's blade from Soul Calibur. Yori summons his weapon. Large axe. Mayuni uses a few dark slashes but it only seems to graze them. Yori puts his axe in the ground(blade part) and begins to spin it. Some of the Soul Snatchers get hit. Yori" What the hell are these things." Jito appears and says" We are Soul Snatchers. That means you're fucked." Mayuni" A Soul Snatcher. Never dealt with that before." Jito" This place has lots of souls but not that much. We're going to suck the lifeform off this place. Then move on to the next place. Same. Same. Same." Yori" What are you trying to do? Hypothetically speaking. Let's say you're able to suck everything you need then what happens?" Jito" It's not up to us. Our boss makes us do this. You have to take it with him but you'll never get past us." Mayuni" Oh yeah." Jito" Which one of you is going to be first? Go on. Take your time." Mayuni" Me!" Yori" Are you sure?" Mayuni whispers" I'm trying to stall her while you try save the people and to find a way out. I'll try to meet up with you. Yori" Are you sure? This is pretty risky." Mayuni" Yes. I got it."
Yori" Okay. She'll go." Jito" So you've finally made up your mind. Bring it on missy." Just like she said, she's stalling and barely even trying. Even if she was, Jito is one of the stronger ones and would do very little. Jito isn't even trying herself. Yori is quietly escaping. Jito" What are you doing? You're not putting up a challenge. I'll just put you out of your misery then." Mayuni whispers" Oh oh. I have to regroup. There's no way I can keep it up."Jito's hands become sharp like. She sticks one hand in the ground and it appears behind Mayuni. It grabs her. Mayuni" What in the world was that." Jito" It's Earth Manipulation. I have the ability to use earth style just like you humans." Mayuni" No way!" Jito" You have no way of winning." She extends her hands and is even stronger. Mayuni" I can't keep this up any longer. There is only one way but never. I don't like using it but it might be my only chance of surviving." Mayuni turns into her Soul Form." It is a rage form for people who don't have special forms can use. Mayuni has red eyes and red aura. Jito" Wow something new. You might be a little stronger now but it won't do much." Mayuni" We'll see about that." When Mayuni uses Soul Form, she becomes different and overconfident in her fights. And also reckless. A flashback shows Mayuni and her form. She tries to save someone but is pretty useless. When she used Soul Form, she ended up getting to reckless and the person ends up dying. She doesn't care what happens to the people. If they get hurt, it's on them.
Another flashback shows Mayuni getting the form. Two years ago. Mayuni is 13 is with her teacher(master). The Black Widow doesn't have an elementary or jr. high programs. She was always trying to out perform herself and was a very slow learner. Her teacher had a cool form and she always wanted to transform. The form was only used for emergencies. It was rarely shown. Teacher's name was Kyōshi(kee-oh-shi)/(female)/(means teacher). Kyōshi suggested that Mayuni should learn an easy form. Soul Form is explained to Mayuni. The person must build up enough rage from within or soul energy. The rage was hard for Mayuni to use because she isn't about getting mad, so this would be a struggle for her. Kyōshi insults her but is apart of her plan. Kyōshi is giving Mayuni a lot of hard training. Eventually Mayuni begins to snap and soul energy is building from within. She's starting to get the hang of it and is comfortable getting angry. She concentrates and has finally become Soul Form. Kyōshi says only use it when it's necessary. Don't try to overuse it. She agrees. Kyōshi isn't a teacher from school but was training Mayuni to become stronger. Everybody else didn't see her potential at the time and thought she had a ways to go. They didn't train her or wanted anything to do with her. Kyōshi was different and saw passed the bullshit the others talked about. She believes that Mayuni would be a great prosper. She saw great things to happen. One morning Mayuni is with Kyōshi. They are discussing a few things.
Kyōshi tells Mayuni that she alway believed in her and always will. There is somebody watching them from afar. Spying on there movements. Later on. Mayuni gets attacked then trapped. Same person but came with a group. Kyōshi heard a noise but doesn't see anyone. She steps on a trap and the other members show themselves. They kill Kyōshi and show her body to Mayuni. This would awaken her inner hatred. Her Soul Form has triggered. She is now free. She goes all out and there all dead. They were hired to kill Kyōshi and apprehend Mayuni. Scenes show Mayuni using her form and being Victorious. Her moments with Kyōshi are also shown as well. Flashback raps up. Mayuni is currently age 16. Back to story. Mayuni" I won't be so merciful this time." Jito" We'll just have to see about that. Won't we." They begin to fight. Jito makes the first move but Mayuni blocks it and with ease. Mayuni" Is that all?" Jito" You want more then you got it.(has a grin)!" Mayuni does a move that resembles Sid's Burning Slash but made of dark energy. While off guard, Jito creates another arm and it grabs her from below. The ground is destroyed. Mayuni is faster than Jito and surprises her with a sneak attack. She appears from behind(in aisame sequence/horizontal position). Jito looks behind her but she's vanish. Jito" Where'd she go." She looks around. Mayuni appears in front of her and stabs her. She Is bleeding severely. Mayuni" What is this, you're hurting aren't you? Can't catch up? Do I have to slow it down for you?"
Jito" This can't be. Little fool thanks she can win. Making a fool out of me. Nobody makes a fool out of Jito. One of the stronger Soul Snatcher. You'll pay for that." Mayuni" Prove it then." Jito uses more arms but are no match. She cuts them up with a single attack. Jito summons her daggers. Jito" Now I'm getting serious. No more playing around." This time she is more skilled and not playing around. Mayuni has not fought any opponents who beat her Soul Form. Her opponents have been easier to deal with. Jito is more difficult this time and gives her a bit of trouble. Jito throws her dagger one by one. This time before she throws, they're glowing green. They are thrown into the right arm and right leg. Jito uses hand signs. Her right arm and leg are glowing green(spirit energy). Mayuni has been poisoned. Can she survive? During the fight, Mayuni has also been feeling groggy and weary. She can't seem to get a hold of herself as well. Her daggers have gotten bigger and Mayuni has noticed. Her daggers are draining Mayuni's blood, making it bigger and harder for her to fight. It doesn't seem like Mayuni have a lot of time left. How will this fight end? Will Mayuni die or survive? Find out next time on Part 4. "To Be Continued"

In P4, as the FBI team was on its way to Yankton Federal Prison, driving a black 2003 Lincoln Town Car, Tammy was showing signs of unwell.

Albert: "Agent Preston gets carsick."

An episode earlier, Mr C was driving that same Lincoln, curiously, and also he got sick in the car. This time, there was no Albert explaining why that was. Or perhaps it was this scene that he really explained to us.
After losing the control of the vehicle and flipping it around, Mr C put both of his hands on his mouth, trying not to vomit, but there was nothing he could do to stop keep things in. Then, he passed out.
In P5, carsick-prone Tammy was working late in her cubicle. Attached on the wall, there was a picture of the Washington Monument - not the obelisk in Washington but the equestrian statue in Philadelphia bearing the same name. An interesting detail to pay attention to was that when Mr C appeared from behind the hill in P3, just before falling ill, his Lincoln was framed together with a warning sign for horseback riders.
She was in the company of Lincoln and Washington.
The more famous Washington Monument, the obelisk, is usually photographed together with the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool which is in front of it. Throughout Return, there were all kinds of references to Lincoln from the president's head on Mount Rushmore to coins and bills decorated with his features, to a Lincoln look-alike Woodsman, to Lincoln branded cars and even to Lincoln logs on Hawk's table.
In addition to these obvious ones, there probably were more hidden Lincoln references. We'd probably have one in Tammy's cubicle.
Next to the picture of the Washington Monument, Tammy didn't have a pool, though. Instead, she had another kind of rectangular item, the screen of her Apple iMac. She had multiple files open but there was a glimpse of the screen's black & blue world map background that had the likeness of the nighttime surface of water.
On the screen, there was Cooper's fingerprint record file open. Tammy had the fingerprints also on paper. As she lifted a printed one to have a look at it, there was an impression of reflection, as if the paper in her hand was mirrored on the screen.
If the iMac's screen was used as an abstraction of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, duly next to the cubicle's Washington Monument, then Apple's logo - the apple with a bite out of it - was possibly in reference to President Lincoln's well-documented love of apples. Blatant product placement was nicely repurposed to work for the story.
These observations would come on top of another extreme twist that Tammy had Cooper's now idle doppelganger right there, appearing as the photograph of the disheveled Mr C. The photograph was attached to a form but when she lifted it from the table, she briefly touched the picture.
As it seems, all doppelgangers were mindless beings that needed someone to ride them before they were of any use. Season 2 may have ended with Windom Earle's soul possessing Cooper's doppelganger, these two joined by BOB who also hitched a ride with them. At some later point, Earle would have vacated the doppelganger, willingly or unwillingly, after which someone else could have taken him over.
A such moment to get Cooper's doppelganger a new rider seems to have been Red and Richard's meeting in P6. Just before the scene started, it seems that Red had given Richard the doppelganger, the possession taking a little time to move Richard to another world where he would have appeared as Mr C.
At this point of the story then, Tammy's character would somehow have got the doppelganger, abstracted to a photograph of him. Her evening in the cubicle ended with her lifting her right hand to her mouth. Yet, just as the scene cut, it turned to her left hand. When Mr C got sick in his Lincoln, he lifted both of his hands on his mouth, trying not to vomit.
They don't tell you everything you can do with your iMac.
Perhaps Tammy wanted to take a ride with the doppelganger, or maybe that was going to happen anyway after her finger slipped on the picture. Later in P17, when the doppelganger was lying dead on the floor in Twin Peak's Sheriff's station, Cooper sternly warned not to touch him. Since touching the idle doppelganger had consequences and if the picture of the doppelganger she touched indeed was the doppelganger himself, that likely meant she would be getting on a ride.
Turning to the doppelganger seems to have taken the possessor to new places. The pairing of Tammy's iMac with Washington on a horse linking to the famous pairing of Lincoln and Washington in DC would now reflect the pairing of another kind of Lincoln with another kind of horseback rider. Her iMac would have become the black Lincoln Town Car while Washington would have remained on his horse, now in a warning sign. Her office would have disappeared and turned into the highway, surrounded by barren hills that were dotted with dried bushes like the forms on her screen and desk were dotted with fingerprints.
Then, she would have got sick. She just didn't do too well being in a moving car, and having a doppelganger wasn't going to fix that.
The point in all this would come from another connected scene. In P8, a strange entity credited as the Experiment floated in space. Also she got ill and threw up. Among the vomit, there were a black ball with BOB's head inside as well as something that looked like a potato, its surface dotted with black stains like the fingerprint cards or the bushy hills. Going back to Tammy in the cubicle, just as the scene cut, she was framed together with some document on the wall behind her, the seal of which looked like a black ball.
Someone wanted to free BOB, or at least what was left of him.
When the doppelganger left the Black Lodge in the season 2 finale, it also had BOB on the same ride, in addition to likely being controlled by Earle, returning to the world as Agent Cooper. If Tammy had got the doppelganger under her control, she would need to have gone through BOB as well. As a sign that she indeed had gone just that, her vomiting in the car as Mr C would have made her other existence as the Experiment throw up as well, revealing that this powerful monster had not only cut BOB's head off but also swallowed it.
We had naturally not seen any such fight between the doppelganger and BOB versus the Experiment. It is possible, however, that we got to hear it in P13, fought off screen in what appeared to us as a Las Vegas police station where some woman screamed at certain "twinkies" she would cut their nuts off. This lady would have been the Experiment while the nuts a pair of heads, one that of BOB and the other appearing later as the potato. When the Experiment got sick, these heads would have slipped from her grip and escaped.
This twist would have solved the rather pressing problem that BOB's original actor Frank Silva was not around any more, and they needed to either recast the role or spend a large amount of money to animate his likeness digitally. Apparently the money was enough to animate just his head, and so they decided to have his character decapitated and let his lose head do the remaining terrorising.
Tammy would now be connected to the Experiment, in addition to having already been linked to Judy. Having crashed the car and passed out, she probably lost the control of the doppelganger and found herself somewhere else. Wondering were she would have gone next we need to remember Cole's wisdom that cossacks are in Russia, his mishearing of carsick.
No touching, or you'll be all right!
Cooper told not to touch dead Mr C. When two highway Troopers arrived on the scene of the car wreck, Mr C was still in the car, and he hadn't woken up. The first Trooper went to check on the driver and reached inside. Immediately, he fell under the influence of something bad and collapsed on the ground. The second Trooper was alarmed.

Second Trooper: "What the hell, Billy?"

That name got a lot of strangely undue attention later on so what was going on here should have been of importance. The Second Trooper pushed his struggling partner Billy up and walked him back to their car.

Second Trooper: "Come here. You'll be all right."

That was the last we saw of Billy but that was probably because soon he wasn't Billy any more. Much later in P17, Mr C was sitting in Sheriff Truman's office. Andy was excited to see Cooper again, and we got a hint who their guest really was.

Andy: "Would you like a cup of coffee?" Mr C: "No, thanks. I'm all right."

Apparently the vacated doppelganger got yet another rider in Billy when the Trooper leaned in to touch passed-out Mr C, kicking off the process to take him somewhere else.

Some context: I am in high school, male, and catholic. i have a very pressing question regarding my faith. i am bad at asking questions person to person because i end up stumbling over my words and then i end up saying the wrong stuff. so i wrote this stuff in the notepad in my phone. my plan was to go to confession and ask a priest these things. i got the basic stuff down, but then as i felt more stuff and kept adding more things to the note through edits over the course of 1-3 months. it kept getting longer and longer, and now paragraphs long. it basically turned into a place where i can vent my feelings. so before i ask the priest i guess im going to ask this subreddit to see what they think too. sorry for any typos or any hard to read sentences, im kinda doing this in a rush.
this is also a very, very, VERY long post, so i dont blame you if you skim through it or dont read it at all.
i kinda summarize it all in the final paragraph at the very bottom. see that if you want the gist of it.
Below is what was written on the note.
im just going to say it. im bisexual and i hate myself for it. i wish i was normal. i wish i was straight. im tired of some of my friends saying im not normal and my feelings are weird, horrible, abominable, and deplorable. one said to my face in a serious tone that he "wished he could kill all LGBT people". (and also he said that hitler was right for killing queer people.) he said afterwards he was joking; it still made me very uncomfortable. they are genuinely shocked that i go to church regularly and i feel this way. they say being bisexual is a choice, that i wasnt born this way and i can freely choose to stop these feelings. i wish it was that easy, but i cant stop myself from feeling this way no matter how hard i try.
when i first realized that i wasnt straight i tried so hard to repress these feelings. i tried to ignore them. i tried to shame myself enough to stop them. i tried to do anything to stop feeling this way. but no matter what i did, the feelings persisted. i prayed to go frequently to make it all stop. i prayed for help, whether if its knowing what to do, how to deal with these feelings, or even some kind of comfort, a moment where i stopped feeling an intense weight of shame weighing down and wringing at my neck.
whenever i look at the mirror, or even look at my name on a piece of paper, i get reminded of all the things that i hate about myself. having to repress these feelings all the time, it rained me. my mental state was horrible and i constantly hated myself. i didnt know how much longer i could take it. i wanted to kill myself. there were many times where i wanted to take a knife and plunged it into my chest. i wanted it all to end. one time i got so desperate i actually took a knife and cut myself on the wrist. the cut wasnt big, but if i had the chance to i know i wouldve gone further. that passage in leviticus and saint pauls letters to romans and corithians haunts me every waking second because it was a constant reminder that ill never be truly happy or comfortable in my own skin. i cant enjoy myself in church. its just another reminder im not and never will be a good christian in the eyes of god and others.
i dont feel safe. most friends are judgmental and my family does things that make me second guess on whether if theyre LGBT allies or not. some actions are obvious, my cousin says he hates all gay people and he calls them (f slurs). he said he'll hate me if i was ever gay. we have been really close, practically brothers ever since we were born. other actions aren't. i was watching a movie with my mom once and 2 girls in it kissed. she seemed to get mad and she changed the channel. it could be a coincidence but it upset me. same thing happened with my dad. we were watching tv then an ad for a dating app came on which featured 2 guys kissing. he laughed at it. other times, hes more aggressive. we were watching tv and 2 guys in it kissed. he told me angrily to turn it off saying "i dont want to see 2 dudes kissing". theyre my parents, im sure they didnt mean to come off that way and im sure im overreacting to this, but i still feel like i dont know who to trust.
there are a couple of friends who ive told that im bisexual, and i feel like thats the most amount of people that will ever know. its probably bad to say this but i feel more comfortable with atheists than i do with religous people. at least i know atheists arent as judgemental as religious people are and they wont hate me for no reason if they knew who i truly was. and to top it all off, i dont even know if i should be stressing out about all this. there are an equal amount of people saying different things. that those passages are mistranslations. that those passages should be take literally. that those passages should be taken into context of the time that they were written. i dont know what to believe anymore and its driving me insane.
some christians are say that these feelings are horrible, and need to be repressed, never to be seen. some christians say these feelings are okay, i just need to hide them and never act on my love towards other. some christians say these feelings are okay and i can love who i want to love. i cant use these split opinions. i need something definite. i want to love people. i want to date who i love. i want to have a boyfriend. i want to have a husband. i hate that i feel this way.
to make things worse, not only am i not straight, but im not cisgender as well, but at this point im not surprised that things got worse. im non-binary, using he/they pronouns. im not so sure the bible is against non-binary people, but there are more than plenty bigoted christians who are against them for me to assume so. my catchiest teacher says gender is binary. but i dont feel that way at all. i do feel like a boy dont get me wrong, but at the same time, i dont. i feel like somewhere in the middle of boy and girl. its really hard to explain without making me sound stupid, and its hard to put into exact words. its something that you have to take my word for, you need to actually feel what i feel to understand what i mean. the best way i can put it is that using he/they feels right for me. and i also think i may be transgender as well, im still questioning myself. im discovering who i am, and its taking me a bit to figure all this stuff out. only 2 people know that im nonbinary.
im not normal, and only recently have i truly accepted that i am bisexual. truly accepting who i am has helped me a lot. i dont hate myself as much, and im not as constantly stressed out. although my mental state has improved, i feel like im disappointing god by being this way. i dont know what to do. i cant please god by repressing my sexuality and gender expression. when i tried to repress myself, i nearly killed myself. i never want to go back to that dark place ever again. i wouldnt wish that torture on my worst enemy. im just scared that ill find the love of my life and itll turn out that hes a boy. i want to love someone. i genuinely cant see the problem with me dating and eventually marrying another boy. i want a boyfriend. i want to love him. im scared that i wont be able to be with the one who i love. thats one of the biggest things that keeps me up at night. i guess the point of all of this is to ask, what do i do? how can i deal with these feelings and what do i do about them? what do i do if i fall in love with a boy? i tried asking god what to do next and for some comfort, but i get nothing. it almost feels like he has abandoned me, like he has left me all alone. im just scared and uncertain for my future.
(edit: 2 days after originally writing this whole spiel my mom said things along the lines of these "new pronoun stuff" being ridiculous and confusing. she said something along the lines of me better not using "ridiculous they/them pronouns". i thought maybe i can explain them to her, and maybe that'll change her mind. but when i tried to explain, she seemed dismissive, like she didnt want to learn. even so, i still tried to explain, but she just practically cut me off and stopped me from going on any further. i dont know who to trust. i fully 100% mean it. i cant take this anymore. it feels like theres a 5 ton weight of despair on my chest i cant get rid of. i feel forced to repress my gender identity. i dont feel like i can be truly myself. i want to kill myself. i cant take this anymore. i want to die. no one in my family can know who i truly am. i dont know why, but after mom said that, im starting to question my gender identity again, you know, if im really nonbinary or not. i cant do this. so soon after i think i got it all figured out something has to come and fuck things all up again. i feel so many things. most things i feel cant be put, described, nor expressed through words. my mom says she loves me. she said no matter what she will always love me. i dont know if i should believe that anymore. why would she love someone who wants to identify as something thats "ridiculous" to her. maybe im overreacting. maybe im not. i dont know. i cant take this. maybe i should sleep this off. i always get stressed like this late at night after all. i just hope i can forget all of this by tomorrow. i dont want to feel this way. i hate it so so much. but based on my luck i feel like i'll remember this forever.)
(edit 2: i havent forgotten what happened yesterday. but, im 95% sure im nonbinary. things my happen down the line that may change my perspective on my gender identity again, but for now im gonna stick with this label. the problem is i dont feel safe actually outwardly expressing myself as nonbinary towards family, some friends, and really just the public in general. i guess my plan is to survive until i turn 18, get a source of income, and move away to someplace distant, where no one knows who i am. only then, maybe i can be myself.)
(edit 3: me and two other friends were talking. one friend who i told that i was bi and i trust very much said to that other friend in a joking manner i was bi, i guess he thought he already knew that information. other friend then proceeded to quickly put me in a headlock and wouldn't let go until i answered his question, "are you gay or bi?" out of fear i panicked and told him "im straight. i dont like men i only like women". he then let go and said "ok good, if you guys weren't joking and you were actually bi i would've beat you up im not joking". at this point my spirit is crushed. i cant take this homophobia anymore. but then again that kid is like, super mega hyper religous, a real devout christian, so i guess i cant be too surprised, that is too be expected. i just need to get out of this place any way i can.)
(edit 4: as the days pass the more and more i like boys. as the days pass the more i want a boyfriend. as the days pass the more i hate being masculine. as the days pass the more i want to be androgynous. as the days pass the more i want to look like a girl. why cant things be simple. i hate myself more than ever. i want to kill myself more than ever. feeling this way in the past make a lot more sense now. i guess i was repressing these feelings so much i never realized i was feeling them in the first place. i know i should keep my head up and keep my spirits high but i know sooner or later everything is gonna come crashing down in front of me and i wont be able to do a thing about it. and when that happens i know i will end my life. i just want to be fucking happy. i cant take this anymore. i want to kill myself so much. im too tired to stay yet im too scared too leave. not killing myself is delaying the inevitable anyways. god doesnt want sick disgusting freaks like me in his kingdom. i will be sent down to hell no matter what i do. as the days pass i feel a part of my soul die. and i feel like sooner or later it will completely shatter. and i dont know when.)
(edit 5: its been a few weeks. questioning my gender is an everyday occurrence now. all i know for certain is that im not 100% a boy. i want to wear feminine clothes. i want to act and talk and sound like a girl. i look at girls in my school and my first thought when i see them is "god i wish i was/looked like her". i want to look so androgynous that when someone looks at me, they cant tell if im a boy or a girl. but also i want to look and act and sound so feminine, that if someone looks at me they think im a girl and not a boy. i hate my body and facial hair so much. i look at it and i feel hatred, disgust, and sadness. i just want to shave it all off. anything i can do to look more feminine is better. i hate that my voice is so deep. i dont like that i sound so boyish. i want a voice where people either cant tell if im a boy or a girl, or they think im a girl. i want to wear skirts and dresses and all that. im scared. these feelings about my sexuality and gender scare me. people say that they are okay. people say that they are not okay. i dont know what to do. my last hope is that this is a test. i do my confirmation on saturday. i just hope this is god testing me. i hope its like some kind of test of worthiness, to see if im strong enough to like not kill myself or something before i make my confirmation. if it is a test then it is a cruel test. but i just hope it is one. my last hope is that after my confirmation all of these feelings will go away.)
(edit 6: they didnt go away. it was silly of me to think that getting confirmed would make it all go away. the bishop was doing the homily, and somehow, i dont exactly remember how, it led to him saying only men can marry women and thats how its supposed to be. ok god, i get it now. i finally get it. i cant be gay. i cant be in a homosexual relationship no matter how much i want to. me suffering through all of this, just hoping that eventually itll all work out was just a goddamn fucking lie. ill never be happy. ill never be able to love someone. ill never ever be able to truly be myself. i just have to deal with it now. all it took was the fucking bishop to spell it out right in front of me. i cant do this anymore. there is no hope. god has abandoned me. he hates me. its a horrible thing to say, i know, but i feel like thats the truth. why would he make me bisexual. why would he make me nonbinary. why would he make me possibly transgender, all for him to deny me to act on it and be in a relationship with someone i love. all for him to force me to be in a constant state of gender and body dysphoria and constant hatred of my body and my life. i thought this fucking religion was all about love. i cant do this. ive had enough. ive made up my mind. the next time i get the chance to ill kill myself. theres no hope for me anymore. reading this will most likely make me sound like an asshole. i dont care anymore. i shouldve stopped caring a long time ago but im too stupid to figure that out anymore. ive lost. ive given up. i will never be happy. that is an immutable fact. i want this to all be over. i need to take things into my own hands. it was foolish to think this would have a happy ending. the only question i want the answer to now is when will i end my life?)
(edit 7: cant go near my family anymore without immediately thinking if they would never talk to me or love me again if they knew the truth. at least the life expectancy of an american man is 76 years so i just gotta wait 62 years for this shitshow to end. its funny just not too long ago i kept thinking to myself i only had to wait 4 more years until i turned 18 so i can move away and truly start my life. little did i know i now have to wait 15.5 times that amount for this painful misery im being subjected to on a daily basis to come to its fucking pathetic end. makes me think if god even loves me because im starting to lose my mind. not that i was doing too well in the first place.)
(edit 8: i hate mirrors. i want to punch the face of the person i see in them. i wish it wasnt me. its times like these i wished i was in a religion that wasnt so harsh on homosexuality. its a horrible thing to say i know. im probably going to hell for saying that i know. but at this point i dont fucking care. i somehow care so much and so little at once its truly an anomaly. i should shut up. i love god and god loves me. i love jesus and jesus loves me. i should ignore the longings of the flesh. the flesh is against the spirit and the spirit wants to be with god. but it sure does feel like the spirit wants to be in a loving relationship as well. and its getting harder and harder to see myself not being in a relationship with a boy with me as a boy. but if i see myself as a trans girl i can only see myself in a relationship with another girl. this kind of bullshit is driving me crazy. when it comes to love its like a damned if i do and damned if i dont situation. if i choose to be in relationship im going to hell. if i choose not to be one ill most likely end up killing myself and go to hell. i cant fucking win. i was born to rot in eternal damnation. i envy those who can love without fear. i wish i wasnt me every day. im tired. and the worst part is that no one understands. not a single person on this wretched plane of existence knows what im going through other than me. and that is the final flick in the nuts that convinced me that i should stop caring. but i still care somehow. if only someone killed me so i dont die by suicide. that would be nice.)
(edit 9: none of my bitching is going to do a thing. my greatest fear is that countless other queer christians going through the same shit as me will never recieve hope. we are in a hopeless situation. no one can do a thing. not a person. not a preist. not a deacon. not a bishop. not a pope. and god is clearly not going to do a fucking thing. queer christians were born to die. maybe thats not the case and im being a dumbass again. but with each passing day i feel that more and more.)
(edit 10: i want to be a girl. im beyond saving.)
(edit 11: i need to repress it all until im dead.)
(edit 12: using he/they feels less and less right as the days go by. in a perfect world i would be using she/they. but i cant. and i never will. even if it wasnt a sin im sure 80% of my family will never want to even see me again, and another 5% would want to kill me.)
(edit 13: its all becoming too much to handle. i hate the person that ive become. someone who hates himself. someone who wants to be with boys. someone who hates the very idea of being masculine. someone who wishes people refer to him as a she or a they. someone so sinful. someone so lustful. i deserve nothing. its like im putting up a facade in front of everyone else. and as far as im concerned itll stay that way until i die. which i feel like will be soon.)
(edit 14: i want to do something about all of this but i cant. i hate being so helpless.)
(edit 15: these religious people who say these things about homosexuality dont know what the fuck theyre talking about. they never once had to struggle once about their sexual or gender identity. from the pope to a simple priest, every single one who says "oh you just have to never act on those feelings and youll be fine" are heterosexual and cisgender. they think wanting to be in homosexual relationship is just something you feel every now and then that can be brushed to the side. they think wanting to be transgender is as much of a minor inconvenience as stubbing your toe on a table leg. they dont know that these feelings are not "just feelings", but they are yourself. they encompass yourself and are intertwined with every fiber of your being. saying to not act on these things is denying someone to love. i cant love others if i cant be in a gay romantic relationship. i cant love myself if i dont transition. if i cant love, i cant exist. ill go crazy and ill do something that cant be undone. but no, im sure these people know exactly what theyre talking about. they know how i feel.)
(edit 16: i just want this to be over.)
(edit 17: something snapped in me or something. its becoming harder and harder to feel strong emotions anymore. im finding it hard to show or express happiness. im finding it hard to show or express sadness. im lingering in this neutral-like state of mind. i have to fake strong emotions in order to not draw suspicion towards others that something is wrong. its becoming harder to feel anything. i dont know if thats better or worse than always feeling depressed. its like theres something missing inside me. i feel depressed but i lack the energy to express it, so it just lingers inside of me, festering and building up. i just have to last over 60 years without killing myself. i dont think i can do this.)
(edit 18: i want my life back.)
(edit 19: im trying my hardest to but i cant imagine a world with me as an adult without being a trans girl.)
(edit 20: the only way i can stay sane is to distract myself. i just drown myself in whatever can keep my mind off myself. video games, tv, schoolwork, music, i use these things to keep my mind off of my feelings. i dont know if its healthy to constantly submerge myself into these things but its all i got.)
(edit 21: i thought god and jesus were supposed to help me fight these feelings. i thought they were supposed to help me. what am i doing wrong? am i not going to church enough? i go every sunday. am i not praying enough? i pray as much as i can. am i not opening my heart enough to god? i try to do that, even though im not so sure how to do that exactly i still feel like i am doing it. or maybe they dont like me and they want me to suffer. fair enough i guess. i dont even like myself why would anyone else like me.)
(edit 21: i asked one of my friends what he would do if i came out as bi. he said "the first thing id do is take you to church". i already fucking do that you prick. that does fucking nothing. its not that simple you cant just pray the gay away. ive tried.)
(edit 22: i want to take a knife and plunge it into my chest.)
(edit 23: i wish god made me a girl from birth so i didnt have to feel this way.)
(edit 24: i wish i was a miscarriage.)
(edit 25: im back to fucking square one again with my mental state. i miss the days when i was happy. if i kill myself i can be happy again. i dont even care what happens after death anymore i just want this to end already. i cannot last another 60 fucking years with this bullshit. i cant even make it to 15 years without life coming up and kicking me in the nuts.)
(edit 26: im genuinely now considering when and where would be the best place to kill myself. im definitely going to hell. im definitely beyond saving.)
(final edit: im going to end it here before this becomes obnoxiously long. originally, my question was a fancy way of saying "can i be in a romantic relationship with a boy and can i be transgender." but i see ive already gotten the answer to that. my new question is "how can i keep going on. how can i repress and bottle up these feelings without killing myself from the inside." ive already made it clear what is making me feel this way and why. i just need something to bring me comfort from this endless torture ive been enduring through. i need anything. a prayer, an action, something, anything i can do. im not strong enough to repress this. ive prayed to god for help. ive prayed for comfort. ive prayed for strength. but i got nothing. sure i havent killed myself yet but that was at the cost of my mental health and sanity. i hate myself and everything about me. i want a boyfriend. i want to be a girl. i cant take this anymore. i cannot see a world where i endure over 60 years of this until my natural death. i just want something i can do in order to make these feelings go away, even though thats probably not even possible. i just want hope. i just want comfort. i just want to be happy again.)

When my son was around two years old I’d take him to the park weekly to feed the birds. He loved it and I felt like a Disney Princess, so win-win!
There were signs cautioning about feeding the waterfowl bread, so we’d bring birdseed, nuts, corn and frozen peas as treats for the wildlife.
One day, a boomer and his wife come walking by and he makes immediate, angry eye-contact with me. She continues walking across the bridge we were on, but he slowed when passing us. I knew this was trouble so I placed myself between him and my son.
Sure enough he starts berating me about feeding the waterfowl and how it’s not allowed. I interject that feeding them BREAD was a no-no, so we only bring seeds and stuff. He cuts me off and tells me the signs are wrong and I shouldn’t be there with my kid feeding the birds and aggressively trying to go around me to my son, who I’m sure he’d either start on directly or try to snatch his cup of seeds.
My son started to get scared and was on the verge of tears while I play interference. I said firmly, “Thank you, sir. I’ll give that all the consideration it deserves, but you’re going to need to back up.” He continued and I told him loudly to move on. By this time, a few people had taken notice and some other moms were on their way over.
He still wouldn’t give it up, so I scooped up my son, leveled my eyes with him and told him he better move along before I need to make a scene (which he’d already done, really).
I’m definitely not used to confrontation so I shook like a leaf for a few minutes after, but what the hell is wrong with people like this? He probably fed all the birds in his time, before bitterness took over.

edit: theres a cover now! check it out!
this is inspired by u/FrostedScales' art. this one, here. he gave us all permission and im going to use it god damnit.
so here is a story in which you get a yulpa gf. good luck. we're all rooting for you.
---------
You knock on the door. There's a flutter of movement, and what sounds like something clattering to the floor. But no response otherwise.
You sigh. You’ve been hearing stories like this from all over the station. Venlil fainting, venlil trying to run away, venlil attacking out of sheer panic. It’s always something like that, from all over the station.
Hell, Greg’s partner wet themselves in fear! And you heard from Alana’s exchange partner’s friend that someone over on Beta station had their partner freak out and deliver a headbutt to the kneecaps. Rumor says he’s already been shipped back to Earth for advanced surgery.
You have to hope nothing like that happens to you. But there isn’t much you can do about it at this point. So… you adjust your mask. You take a deep breath. You hope for the best.
“Hey. I’m coming in, okay?” you say, with a lighter knock on the door.
Still no response.
You push the door slowly open, and step inside. You keep your eyes pointed down to the floor.
There’s another strange clattering noise. What is that?? Even though there’s still no response, you have to assume that this is going pretty well so far! Your kneecaps, at least, are still intact.
“H-- hello?” you ask.
Clunk.
Clunk-clunk.
Okay seriously, what is that? You can’t help it, and you shift your gaze up.
You see hooves.
Wait, what the fuck?
Hooves???
You look the rest of the way up. And standing in front of you, you see… You have no idea what the fuck that is. Some kind of fanged pig-wolf-zebra thing??
Is it an animal? Some kind of prank? No, no-- it’s definitely a person. You can tell by the eyes, staring back at you curiously. It has -- no, she has jewelry, and piercings, and a carefully braided mane with little decorative bits woven in. And in her hand, a wicked-looking knife.
No, wait, that’s not a hand. Or an arm. That’s her tongue.
What the fuck.
“Umm,” you say. “I think there might have been a mistake.”
“No,” she says. She sounds like a cat with a very angry lizard stuck in its throat.
“I’m… I think I’m going to go,” you tell her. This is definitely not your exchange partner.
You turn, reaching for the door. But before you can grab it, rapid hoofbeats from behind you, thunk-thunk-thunk across the floor. A blur rushes past your shoulder, and she crashes into the door. It slams shut, and you suddenly realize you’re in danger.
You say nothing. You stand perfectly still. Your hand is frozen halfway to the door handle.
She winds around you, stalking, slinking, sinuous. You can feel her breath on the back of your neck. She’s muttering something. “Healthy, fit,” you catch a few of the words. “Worthy.”
You reach for the door again, but stop short. There’s something cold and metal pressing against your chest. The knife, held flat against you. Right across your pounding heart.
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is currently draped over your shoulder. You can feel it, her freaky tongue-arm-thing. It’s wet, and dry, and strong and floppy all at once. It’s the most off-putting thing you’ve ever felt in your life.
“Partnerssss” she lisps into your ear. Her tongue slides away off your shoulder, and the knife withdraws.
You rush out the door. You sprint down the hallway. You run and run, until you’re all the way across the station and your legs are shaking.
You decide to see if Greg and his partner will let you crash with them tonight.
------
No one seems to care that your exchange partner is somehow a yulpa.
A yulpa, that’s what she is. Greg’s partner, Hielamie, helped you look it up. The articles about them quickly tell you that you should be glad you’re still alive.
None of you have any idea how you managed to get your exchange partner swapped with a murderous cultist from a planet full of predator-murdering whack-jobs.
Everyone official that you’ve talked to just keeps sending you to someone else’s office. And no one else seems to question that there’s a yulpa wandering around the station with a knife. They just give her a brief glance, and assume it must be normal, and okay.
You can’t really blame them. No one wants to look like a racist, and we only just now found out that we’re not alone in the galaxy!
You kind of wish you were alone in the galaxy right now.
Instead, you’re hiding out in your friend’s room, avoiding the insane alien that you’re confident is trying to kill you, and begging anyone official to help. Hielamie is definitely getting tired of you hanging out in their room. You can feel her glaring at the back of your head when you’re not looking.
You’re sorry for intruding on them and their time together. But not sorry enough to go back to your own room. There’s an insane person in there.
There’ve already been a few near misses. Once, on the way back from the communal baths. You saw her, but she didn’t see you. That was lucky.
The other time was in the cafeteria. This time, she saw you. And she looked, so, fucking, furious. You were sure this was it. Your time is up, all you can do now but make peace with it. But thank whatever gods you feel most appropriate, because she couldn’t get up to full speed trying to weave through all the tables and people.
You could hear her just behind you, though, her hoofbeats, the trays and dishes clattering to the floor, humans shouting, venlil shrieking.
You don’t know how many more near misses your heart can take.
----
The next time she caught you, you weren’t so lucky. It was a clever ambush, though, you had to give her credit... Waiting for you outside the registrar’s office like that…
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she hisses angrily, backing you up into the wall.
“I’m sorry.”
“You are very sorry.” Her tongue pokes into your chest, and starts feeling around your shirt.
“I am very sorry.”
She presses her forehead up against yours. Her eyes are just inches from yours, full of fire. You’re breathing quicker now, and you feel… a little weird.
“Yes. You are.” She pulls her head back and lifts her snout up, staring haughtily down at you. “We are going back to our room now,” she informs you.
You go back to your room with her.
----
At least Greg and Hielamie are happy to have their room back to themselves, you figure. That’s some small comfort, because staying in the room with this yulpa is terrifying. She’s like a switch, curious and friendly one minute, and murderously insane the next.
She keeps asking you about Earth. “Tell me where you live,” she’ll demand. “Are there other predators there? Lots of predators? How many predators.”
“I live in Nashville, Tennessee,” you try to explain. But as soon as you start telling her how big the city is, and what it’s like, her eyes are already lighting up and she’s stomping over to you. She starts nodding frantically.
You’ve done the research. You know why she’s getting so excited about ‘predators.’
You try not to look at the knife strapped to her leg. She gets mad at you when you do.
-----
“Braid my hair,” she demands.
Living with her still hasn’t gotten any less terrifying or any more normal. It has gotten a little easier though.
Well, maybe.
It’s hard to tell. Maybe you’re just getting used to her.
“But you already have braids,” you say.
“Braid my hair!” She flops down on the floor next to you. Her tongue is dancing around happily.
You reach out and touch her mane, but as soon as you do--
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!!” she shrieks, loud enough for the next couple rooms to hear. Her yelling is more like yowling, like the most furiously puffed-up tomcat to have ever walked along a fence.
She spins around and glares at you as if you’ve just poured super-glue down her back. You can’t help but stare back. She has definite crazy-person eyes. Big and green and furious and staring right into yours.
You kind of like it.
“But… but I can’t… without--” you start.
She huffs and tosses her snout, looking away from you. “Just braid my hair,” she tells you again.
This woman is fucking insane.
And yet… you’ve stopped trying to get the officials to do anything about it.
You reach out again, and touch her mane. This time, she lets you. It’s soft, and luxurious, and you can feel the beautifully strong muscles underneath it.
You suddenly realize you have no idea how to braid hair.
You try your best, but you barely even know where to start. Her mane is now a mess of the sloppiest and most lopsided braids you’ve ever seen.
But she doesn’t seem to mind. She stands back up and admires her terrible new braids in the mirror. She lifts up her hand--hoof--???, whatever, thing, and lets the hair run across it. Gurgling in satisfaction, she opens up one of the drawers.
She takes a shiny little green band with a golden chain from the drawer -- more jewelry -- and slips it over the braid. Her tongue is surprisingly (and more than a little off-puttingly) dextrous, and has no trouble working with her hand-hoof-thing. The chain attaches to her earring, and the whole thing glitters prettily whenever she moves her head.
She admires it one more time, and stalks back over to you. She flops down next to you again, this time just gently resting against your leg.
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, working up the courage to stroke her mane again.
She lets you.
------
She’s worn that braid every day since. That fact hasn’t escaped your notice. You’re still pretty sure she plans on killing you, but she hasn’t yet, so that’s probably a good sign.
Every now and then, she’ll tell you something about her home planet, or about her family. But most of the time she just tells you how great of a sacrifice you’ll make, and how she can’t wait to do it.
A few days later, when you come back from the cafeteria, she excitedly drags you into your room. The station news is playing. The Exchange Program is moving to the next stage, it sounds like. Members are allowed to go down to Venlil Prime together if they want to.
Your exchange partner has started dancing in place. Little tippy-tappy hooves tip-tapping away.
It’s kind of cute.
------
Your first day on Venlil Prime is hard. The gravity is fucking brutal. Your knees have been complaining all day, and your back has been telling you that it’s time to go lie down for a while now. It reminds you of backpacking up and down the Appalachians with your 45 pound pack. Up one hill, down the other, up, down, up, down, until your whole body aches. This feels a lot like that.
At least here you get to take frequent breaks. Not that any of them were by your choice, of course, but you won’t complain. You and your partner have been back and forth across this park at least four times now, stopping every few minutes to sit down and rest.
Every time, she demands that you scratch her mane. “Now scratch my mane,” she says, “and do a good job, or I’ll set the altar up tonight.”
You scratch her mane.
The park is really nice, if a little strange. It’s clean and well-maintained, but there’s a strangeness to it that you can’t really explain. It’s a little too maintained, if that makes sense.
It’s also completely empty, and that part is definitely weird. Or you thought so, until you figured out why. You’ve caught sight of a few venlil fleeing off the paths and running for the buildings. They can all hear you coming, you guess.
Surely you’re not that scary. Hell, if anything, it’s your girlfriend that’s the scary one here!
…
is she your girlfriend?
It’s hard to tell. And you’re too scared to ask. Although one would think, the thought suddenly strikes you, that if she was your girlfriend you would probably know her name.
But you’re too scared to ask her that, too.
----
She has an apartment nearby. It looks like she’s only just moved in recently. It’s pretty bare of things, and the neighbors didn’t say hello. But maybe that was just because you’re a human.
The one thing she does have though, is a crude little altar in the main room. It looks as if it was cobbled together out of whatever she could find. There are various mismatched bowls on top, one empty, the others filled with incense and strange powders and scraps of colored cloth.
While you’re staring down at it and wondering if she built it in preparation for the Exchange Program, you feel the very fucking odd sensation of her tongue-hand thing winding its way down your arm and between your fingers.
It’s kind of like holding hands, you suppose. You’re not quite sure how you’re supposed to hold her… tongue. Maybe if you had a freakish tongue of your own, it would make sense. But you don’t, so you’re left to just… kind of hold on to it. With your fingers.
As you’re trying to figure it all out, you feel something different around your wrist.
It’s rope.
You jerk your hand, but it doesn’t go far -- you’re tied to the altar.
You start to freak out.
She steps away from you, you’re yanking your arm this way and that way. Did she bolt this thing into the fucking floor?? You brace your foot against it and strain with all your might, but all you get is a bruised wrist.
Gentle hoofsteps from behind you. It’s her. She’s moving closer, eyes shining gleefully. She’s holding her knife.
“Shit!!” you yell, and scramble to put the altar between you.
She chases you around it. You scramble away again. The rope knocks the bowls to the floor, powder flying everywhere.
She chases you the other way. You run the other way. The rope rubs your wrist raw.
You’re breathing hard, looking for a way out -- when one presents itself.
A pounding at the door. “Hey! Keep it down! It’s a brahking rest paw!!”
“I’ll be quieter!” your murderous exchange partner calls back.
“Sorry!” you add.
WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SAY THAT??? CALL FOR HELP!?!
But you don’t. The footsteps recede away from the door, and all that’s left is the two of you staring at each other across the altar, breathing hard.
Your eyes meet. Hers are still full of fire, but looking at you strangely. She steps forward, not chasing you any more. She doesn’t have to. This time, she just goes straight for your hand. You can’t do anything about it.
She places her forelimb gently over your hand. You suck in a sharp breath, and close your eyes. She’s going to do something horrible to your hand, you know it. You just have to wait for it.
But it never comes. Instead, a soft, keening cry. You open your eyes to find that hers are closed.
You watch as she cuts the rope. Your hand comes up to your chest, and you nurse your ragged wrist.
She herds you over to the guest room, and leaves you there.
You spend the night waiting for an opportunity to sneak out. You know you should. You would have to be an idiot to stay. You could make a break for it right now. It wouldn’t be that hard!
But you don’t.
-----
Greg and Hielamie call you to set up a double date. He doesn’t phrase it like that, but it’s pretty clear that’s what it is. He and his partner have been getting along really great, he tells you, and it seems like you’re the same. Somehow, he adds.
You say you’d love to.
When you tell your partner about it, she starts her tippy-tappy dancing in place again. She grabs her brushes, and starts smoothing down her fur. While she does, she makes you do her braids again. You’ve gotten a lot better at that now. As you should have, with all the practice you’ve gotten!!
She looks really nice when she’s all done. Her fur is bright and gleaming, her mane neat and braided. She prances excitedly around the room as you get ready.
You meet Greg and Hielamie at Olvirn’s Esessair. It’s one of the few restaurants in town that will serve humans, and it’s a pretty popular spot! Pretty much everyone in there looks to be an Exchange Program pair.
It takes a while to be seated, and even longer for the waiter to come around. You spend the time chatting happily with each other about all sorts of mundane things. Greg’s sister had a baby recently. He wants to go back home to visit, but it’s too expensive. Hielamie heard about a couple of Exchange pairs who are thinking about starting some businesses here on Venlil Prime. Stores, restaurants, consulting services, that sort of thing.
Neither of you mention the fact that your girlfriend has routinely tried to murder you every few nights.
Eventually, the venlil waiter comes around and takes your orders. Everyone orders vegan options, of course… except for one.
“He is a predator! He needs meat!!” your girlfriend screeches.
“I-- I’m sorry, we don’t serve m--”
“HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO LIVE??”
The waiter glances around at all the other human patrons, who seem just fine eating vegan. A few of them are staring now.
“That’s okay, I can just have the Esessairan strayu with roasted--”
“He needs MEAT!! MEATTTT!”
“Um,” the poor waiter says.
“I can’t sacrifice him,” your partner says, her tongue jiggling dangerously close to the knife on her leg. “If he isn’t properly fed!”
“We… don’t….” the waiter stumbles. More people are staring now. “We don’t even have any--”
“A predator that eats no meat is not fit for the altar. You will go and FIND SOME!!”
A chair screeches backwards as Hielamie stands up. “Just the strayu with the roasted firefruit platter, thank you. That will be fine.” The server nods and backs away as quick as they can. “I have to use the restroom. Don’t you??” she stares meaningfully at your partner until she agrees and they both head off towards the restrooms.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Greg whispers at you across the table. “Hey,” he says. He keeps furtively checking behind his shoulder for the girls. “Are you okay? Are you in danger?? Do we need to--”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I think she legit wants to kill you, dude. Like, actually.”
“Yeah…”
“Wha--?? No, don’t-- don’t fucking sigh wistfully dude! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?”
“She never goes through with it! It’s fine, dude.”
Greg’s face contorts spectacularly into various expressions. It takes him a fair bit of sputtering before he finishes processing that information.
He leans in even closer to whisper even quieter. “Buddy. Seriously. Listen to me. Hielamie has some cousins in the Exterminator Corps, we could reach out and see if--” he cuts himself off.
The girls are coming back. They sit back down, and Greg and Hielamie share a meaningful look. He shakes his head a little bit. Hielamie just grimaces.
The date goes on as normal, as if no one at the table was going to end up tied to a sacrificial altar later on. Eventually, the food comes out. Big heavy plates piled high with beautiful food. Steaming roast vegetables, piles of spongy-soft bread, colorful soups and salads. It’s all delicious.
----
This time when you come home, it goes a little different. Your hand is all wrapped up in your girlfriend’s freakish tongue, as per usual. You drop off your things on the table by the door, as per usual, and she leads you towards the makeshift altar in her living room, as per usual.
But this time…
This time she keeps going right on past it.
She tugs you along until… you’re in her bedroom. She closes the door behind you with a rear leg, and lets go of your hand. You can only stand and watch in silence as she stalks over to her bed and climbs across it.
Her tongue drifts over to the knife she always carries, and slowly unsheathes it. She stretches herself languidly out across the bed, and drops the knife over the side.
You blink, and look back at her.
She fixes you with a sultry stare.
You still have no idea what her name is.
-------
Hey, I hope you enjoyed whatever that was! I wrote it in a single crazed session and I regret nothing. thanks for reading, and bigger thanks to frosted for making such great art and letting people go nuts with it! youre a hero.

going to start by stating I am stoned enough and JUST about to hit play on part 3 of the reunion.
just really felt it in my core the need to air out my grievances here, on The Fatuous 4! they are caricatures of their former selves.
the ick and secondhand embarrassment I feel when I watch and hear these bozos 🥲 I’ve been watching this show since the beginning of its time - I am invested.
Pardon any typos in advance 🙂‍↕️ here we go…
Lauren from Utah: a WHITE girl who puts on this “thug lyf” act when she’s feeling “spicy”. Cut the bullshit little Ms. KnowitAllLauren, you’re not from the hood and should be put in your place when you put on this “hard” persona. All bark! Earlier seasons - the way she went on about her “secret MAN” and then developed this superiority complex bc she REALLY thought she locked in this gem. BITCH! hahah tell us again how you shaved his ASS AND ATE THAT SHIT and gave “BJs for PJs” and this glamorous lifestyle. NO ONE is going to give you sympathy for losing a dude the same way YOU got him. Own your REALITY - you have a baby daddy that looks like a toe, you’re bringing along another innocent child that you basically said will take the place of the first child. This one is “ALL HERS”. Sweetie, get a grip on your life and take the L gracefully. You’ve never GiVeN AnYTHinG LAHLAH
ShMEna: A flip flopping, PICK-ME little snake. Hungry for acceptance from everyone but men especially. So much backpedaling from her throughout the seasons. Do we think she’s ever fully watched the show and realized how pathetic she seems? Own the fact that you remain friends with those that blow smoke up your butt. NO ONE cares who you slept with. The way it comes off like you think anyone cares, is weird. Married for the second time on the show to the first man that gave her the attention she craves and allows her to control the narrative of their lives. Girl, he was desperate for a green card, screen time and piggybacking off of you. Get over yourself, you’re not important or special.
Shartz: A spineless Fuck Boy. A complicit Yes-Man to his master SLEAZdoval. There was a brief moment where it seemed like he was over Sleazy’s bullshit ways, but he accepts bullshit excuses for shitty behavior. Which makes him seem weak and easily manipulated. He’s also one that doesn’t seem like he can be alone so if he’s getting that attention he’s seeking, he’ll put up with it until it doesn’t serve him anymore. That nut bag Jo is exactly what he needs to deal with - as irritating and off her rocker as she is, I really hope her antics with Shartz aren’t done. He definitely needs to deal with her bag of crazy for a while to maybe realize the consequences of his actions and mistreatment of people. Grow a pair my dude, own the fact that you’re a follower.
SLEAZEdoval: The picture boy of the Peter-Pan Syndrome, an egomaniac with A TON of narcissistic tendencies. He definitely comes off as the obnoxious excessive type, that reeks of desperation and buys his acquaintances. Own the fact that you’re a shitty try-hard that wears platform shoes and developed an incredibly pathetic ego since day 1. No one cares about your glamorized karaoke band and your stupid fucking trumpet. He strikes me as the kind of guy that over acts and sometimes cries when he ejaculates.
LOL rant done. thanks for making it this far!

Hey, Reddit! I just wanted to give you guys some more stories about my Kevin, who is, unfortunately, the supplier of my genetic material (ie, he’s my father.) For those who missed the first stories, you can find the link here: https://www.reddit.com/StoriesAboutKevin/comments/16byk04/my_dad_the_kevin/
There were some excellent responses to the first post, including several requests for a part two. Myself and my brother (who goes by the username u/undercookedbrotato for the purposes of this thread) sat down together and cobbled together some more memories of Kevin, along with our Mom. And you know what? It truthfully was kinda painful. Kevin was cruel and selfish. He sacrificed the financial stability of his family for his own short-term happiness and actively tried to sabotage his spouse’s and his children’s academics and careers for no other reason than he was jealous. We’re just thankful that Kevin is also unbelievably moronic, and so most of these ploys ended quickly. We laugh now, because what else is there to do?
Anyway, just a quick note about me and u/undercookedbrotato. There’s a big age gap between us. I was born in the early ‘80s, and I wasn’t born until the mid-90s. The end result is that both of us have stories of Kevin that span 40 years. Kevin, himself, is a Baby Boomer, and has been inflicted upon this world for nearly seven decades.
A few things to remind our readers of: Kevin failed to achieve much of anything due to his ineptitude, laziness, and sense of entitlement. He is horrible with money and was frequently unfaithful during his marriage. He successfully summited the peak of Dunning-Kruger’s “Mount Stupid” and took pride in never descending. Summiting ANYTHING was amazing for Kevin; he only stood at 5’1”, and his vertical challenges would send him into a sputtering rage if anybody made a comment about it. He loved weather, porn, and amateur radio, and drove everybody nuts with his obsessions.
And here’s one more thing about Kevin: the man was made of teflon. We’re not quite sure why providence likes him so much, but he seemingly is always escaping from the consequences of his bad behavior–or he is at least able to foist them off on somebody else.
Kevin is still alive, but this entire thing is written like he’s not. You see, Kevin has developed Alzheimer’s, and now he spends his days in a memory care unit. A rather inglorious end to a life defined by snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. And maybe that’s for the best.
As before, we’ve selected only the juiciest bits. If this update seems a little more bitter than the last, I think you’ll see why. Apologies in advance. So anyway, without further ado . . . the continuing adventures of our Dad, the Kevin.
*Kevin had done a stint of active duty in the Air Force. The fact that he had managed to complete a term of enlistment without getting himself or somebody else killed still mystifies us. We’re even further gobsmacked when we realize that he somehow got promoted a few times, which is proof of the statement that God looks out for drunks, children, and the incompetent. Our father probably was smack dab in the middle of that particular Venn diagram.
*I once got a betta fish for Christmas. Since the family lived in Arizona at the time, it could get pretty cold. Mom once showed Kevin how to put the betta’s glass bowl on a small heating pad and turn it on low to keep the fish warm. Mom was very clear to put it on “low,” and never, ever “high.” She then went out of town on a conference and OH COME ON YOU KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING.
*At least the new betta fish was pretty.
*While in the active duty Air Force, Kevin decided to prank his unit First Sergeant. Said First Sergeant had a specialty baseball cap that read “1SGT”, or at least had similar lettering. Kevin snuck into his NCO’s office, carefully peeled the letters off the “S” and “T” from the hat, and inserted, “E” and “G” in their place. The hat now read “1EGG.” This had the potential for being a funny prank had Kevin not raided the key when he was pulling staff duty and then destroyed his superior’s personal belongings. Kevin got in trouble and was always mystified as to why people were mad at him.
*Kevin loves weather. When Kevin got sent on temporary duty (TDY) to Montana, he was ecstatic when a tornado formed above the dormitories. So he ran outside and took pictures. The pictures were cool, but the fact remains that Kevin is fucking stupid.
*When the Cold War ended, Kevin took a separation bonus from the Air Force. The intent was that he would use the money as a cushion until he found a new job and his wife finished grad school. Instead, Kevin moved the family out to New Mexico because he had a job interview (no, not an offer . . . an interview.) Yes, it’s as idiotic as it sounds.
*When Kevin separated from the Air Force, the guys in his unit decided to celebrate his departure. They did this by grabbing Kevin, handcuffing his hands behind his back, drenching him with a garden hose, dumping flour over him and then smacking him with water-filled condoms from the roof of the building. Then they left him out in the sun for a little while for good measure.
*This hazing ritual was Kevin’s own idea. He had wanted to do it to the last guy who left the unit, but nobody would go along with it. Kevin was, as Shakespeare would say, hoisted by his own petard.
*Kevin’s chain of command not only knew about his upcoming hazing, but they actively participated. To his credit, Kevin thought it was hysterical . . . until his wife pointed out that friends don’t really do that to each other, and the last guy who left had gotten a cake instead of a face full of condoms. Kevin was then salty about it for decades.
*A year after leaving the Air Force, Kevin had to move into his mother-in-law’s house because he was legally bankrupt. We don’t know where his separation bonus went, and we’re afraid to find out.
*In our previous post, we erroneously stated that it took Kevin nine years to get a Bachelor’s degree. This was incorrect, and for that, we apologize. You see, we just found his transcripts while cleaning out the storage unit, and have found new information. It actually took him twelve . . . if we mark from the completion of his Associate’s. His transcripts show him starting college in 1983 and graduating in 2004. It’s a pity they don’t offer pensions for being a student. And this doesn’t even cover all the degree mill places he likely signed up for . . .
*At the end of his Bachelor’s degree, Kevin had withdrawn from seventeen(!) classes throughout his collegiate career.
*As stated in the previous post, Kevin spent much of our childhoods unemployed. In a bid to get money, Kevin went back and joined the Air Force Reserves. The only income he made for years was his “one weekend a month, two weeks a year” dough. Despite this, he somehow managed to not get kicked out, even though he was frequently passed over for promotion, laughed out of his commander’s office when he asked about being promoted, and once had an entire skit at an Air Force Reserve unit black tie event devoted to mocking him.
*Kevin was sensitive about his short stature. When the eHarmony website launched, Kevin went on a long diatribe about the website’s “heightist” policies and how shorter men were excluded from the dating pool. He disintegrated into quiet grumbling when Mom pressed him as to how he knew this. He blamed it on a friend complaining to him about it. Too bad that guy was 6’1”.
*Mom made all the money in the house due to working three jobs. Kevin figured that his money was his money, and so what little money he did make–as well as a good chunk of Mom’s–disappeared on ham radio equipment, guns, penny stocks, MLMs, hookers, porn, and, bizarrely, musical instruments. WE HAVE SO MANY FUCKING VIOLINS.
*Kevin had played in his high school orchestra. Kevin took this to mean that he was good at the violin. Kevin once showed up to a college jam session. We don’t know what happened, but Kevin came home, went to his bedroom, and cried. He never played the violin again.
*Kevin decided to save money for Christmas one year by getting into wine making. He Googled it and then set jugs of fermenting grapes behind the toilet. Then, on Christmas Eve, he slapped floppy disk labels on the front, wrote “Kevin’s Valley” in big block print on the sticker, and slipped them into gift bags. That shit made my aunt barf. Kevin hated to be reminded of the time he made bad pruno for Christmas and got people sick.
*Kevin was obsessive about floppy disks. He downloaded grainy .jpeg porn images onto them and then labeled them with names like “Big Blondes in Double Trouble” or “Mother Does Her Duty.” I mean, literally, he wrote these on the sticker labels, alphabetized them, and kept them in a disk caddy next to the family computer. Our father was . . . weird, and not in a good way. This has made cleaning out his storage unit tremendously unfun.
*Do you know those scuzzy payday loan places? They’re usually run out of old Pizza Huts and have pawn shops attached to them. They may even have bullet proof glass when you talk to the cashier. Most people avoid them. Our father, on the other hand, looked at those places and would think, “yeah, that’s a GREAT idea.” He seriously borrowed money from those lenders for fun and then wondered why his shit would get repossessed.
*Kevin had a credit score in the 300s. He didn’t know why.
*Back in the early 2000s, there were commercials that would run late at night. They were by a guy called Matthew Lesko, and he would obnoxiously scream at you to buy his book to “get free money!” while wearing a garish suit adorned with question marks like he was some sort of Great Value Riddler. You can see it for yourself here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NECn-uohptg . Anyway, I saw this commercial and said, “what type of idiot would buy that book?” and then walked into the living room to find Kevin reading his.
*Kevin once came home with a “family film” on video tape and put it on in the middle of the day. That “family film” was “Death Wish” with Charles Bronson. He got mad when mom made him take it back to the video store.
*Kevin and his wife were fighting one night and Kevin specified that he was going to go get a divorce attorney. Mom told him to go right ahead, because he didn’t have money to hire one anyway, and that she was willing to pay for his. This shut him up.
*Later on, Kevin became obsessed with the book “Rich Dad, Poor Dad,” despite the fact he never read it beyond the introduction. I received at least three copies as Christmas gifts, and undercookedbrotato is sure to have at least one floating around somewhere. Spoiler: the book is now regarded as inaccurate feel-good self-help schlock.
*When Kevin finally got a full-time job again, he was quickly removed from day shift due to his incompetence and put on night shift. He complained about being “punished” and would not tolerate any discussion that it at least allowed him to keep his job. Kevin went to work on night shift and was immediately written up for watching movies and sleeping. His argument was that if they didn’t want him watching movies or sleeping, then they shouldn’t have put him on the night shift.
*Kevin left work one day to find a coworker putting a computer in his truck. Kevin asked his coworker where he got his computer, and he said that he got it from the company. Kevin went running back inside and grabbed HR and told them that his coworker was stealing computers. As it turns out, his company had a program where employees could buy outdated hardware and equipment, and that’s what was going on. Kevin didn’t understand why his coworker was mad.
*Kevin’s Air Force Reserve detachment deployed to Jordan in the spring of 2005 and they stayed at the Ryatt Hotel in Amman. He came back in early summer. On November 9th, the hotel he had stayed in was attacked by a suicide bomber. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2005_Amman_bombings . Kevin claimed that the fact that the hotel he stayed in was destroyed six months after he left gave him “war PTSD.”
*Do you know that Kanye West episode of South Park where Cartman steals Jimmy’s joke about fish sticks and every time Cartman tells the story, he makes himself look better and more heroic? That was how the hotel bombing was for Kevin. Every time he told the story, the bombing happened closer and closer to his departure from Jordan, until the last time we heard it, he was “running around trying to get people to listen to him about an imminent attack” but that “nobody would believe him.” Amazingly, the attack happened “just a few hours after they left”and not the six months that actually occurred.
*Kevin bought tickets for an Ollie North book signing. He didn’t understand why nobody in the family was impressed.
*Kevin is a bit of a hypochondriac. He once came home from the doctor screaming that his kidneys were failing and that he was going to die soon. He had the entire family riled up and had Mom crying. It turns out that, while he does indeed have kidney disease, it’s nowhere near fatal and can be controlled with medication.
*Kevin once woke up, went to the bathroom, and exited the bathroom shaking. He then called out of work and reported to the emergency room due to finding a “reddish, bloody discharge” around the head of his penis. He was terrified that he had some sort of cancer. What was this mystery secretion, you ask? Lipstick.
*We’re horrified by this story on a number of levels. First, there’s the idea of dad getting a blowjob, which is terrible. Secondly, now that his infidelity has come to light, we must acknowledge that said lipstick could have belonged to any number of women. And then, finally, we must face the realization that Dad didn’t wash his dick. This world is garbage and I hate it.
*Years later, a kid in our hometown got arrested for breaking and entering somebody else’s house, and he happened to have the same last name as us. Dad cut the clipping out of the newspaper, scanned it into his computer, and emailed it to his friends and associates claiming that he had cheated on Mom and that this kid was his illegitimate offspring. He said this was a “joke.” Mom did not find this funny. In retrospect, we don’t think he was joking. We wonder how many half-siblings we have.
*Kevin decided he wanted new ham radio gear. Kevin had no money. Kevin decided he was willing to trade for it. What did he trade? The dog. We’re still pissed.
*Kevin got mad at me for “marrying outside my race” (I’m white, my wife is Filipina.) He then told me that I was being cut out of the will. I told him to go ahead, because there was nothing to inherit anyway. The idea that his son was willing to go no contact hurt him less than the realization that he had no wealth.
*Mom once went up to Alaska to visit me out, as my wife had just had a baby. This left u/undercookedbrotato at home with Kevin. Kevin decided that he was grown and needed to be out on his own, so he gave him a week to leave the house. He was only fifteen. When Mom and I called him and gave him an earful, his claim was that he forgot how old he was and then rescinded his edict.
*In our last post, I wrote about how Kevin had decided to start a real estate company despite not having any money. Or real estate to sell. Or clients. Or a real estate license. But there were some things I forgot to mention–Kevin had gone out and bought a car to advertise his latent business, and even tried to get a car wrap put on it. On top of that, he registered as an LLC and used my social security number to register me as a co-owner with the IRS. I did not give him permission to do this and only found out when I was fucking audited. Fortunately, the business never made any money and I got out of the audit without having to pay any money, so yay?
*Kevin then decided to start a self-defense business, but he didn’t want to put any time or effort into marketing or sales or researching laws. Instead, he just bought a bunch of tasers and pepper spray online and then shipped them to my house. When I called and wondered why there were a bunch self-defense weapons of nebulous legality sitting on my porch, I was told to go sell them and pass along the money. I refused, and the next time Kevin visited, he was given his box back. I don’t know how Kevin got rid of them, and I’m not sure I care.
*Kevin was well-known for mangling popular idioms. His most famous was “hindsight is 100%”, although he also encouraged people to be “fair and objectionable.” When pressed about his philosophy about the human condition, Kevin was not shy about sharing how he felt the world was out to get him–despite the fact that people around him spent most of their time protecting him from himself.
*Kevin likes space stuff and Kevin likes women. So Kevin really likes women astronauts. He could barely contain himself when he met one. He friended her on Facebook and was then, unsurprisingly, creepy. He got blocked and he was crushed.
*Kevin once had a wet dream involving his female supervisor. He told her about it.
*When Kevin was finally fired from his job for having porn on his computer, a group of women met him at the door and told him they were thankful he was gone.
*Kevin registered for Truth Social and was buying Donald Trump gold coins from randos on the Internet. He never received any of them.
*After Kevin got caught cheating on our Mom, he claimed that his “war PTSD” made him do it and that we “couldn’t begin to understand the horrors of war” when confronted. Unfortunately for Kevin, I served in the Sunni Triangle with the 2nd Cavalry during OIF 1 and have actual PTSD (seriously, there’s a slip of paper signed by a doctor and pills and appointments and everything. It’s awesome.) Kevin didn’t have a good explanation for why I hadn’t cheated on MY wife.
*Kevin then (badly) tried to defend his infidelity by texting me advertisements for local Craigslist hookers. His logic was that he would prove how “irresistible” they were, and then people would sympathize with him! At best, this was him grasping at straws–at worst, it was him actively trying to sabotage my marriage. Anyway, and on a completely unrelated note, Kevin hasn’t seen his grandkids in a long time.
*After Mom left, Kevin told me that he’d just move in with me. He got a courtesy ride to the retirement home instead.
*After Kevin was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I started getting collections calls from one of those tribal payday loan places. It turns out that Dad had borrowed money from them at some point in the past. When I called them up and explained that my father was mentally incapacitated, they then shared that his account age was ten years old and he was a “gold tier customer.” I don’t know what that means, but I’m horrified, especially since they’re not regulated by the FDIC and charge 300% interest.
“But hey!” you might be thinking, “this just sounds like the venting of a pair of maladjusted adult children with daddy issues taking their umbridge to the internet.” And you would be right, of course. But you don’t have to just take our word for what a menace Kevin was.
While cleaning out the family storage unit, I found Dad’s old high school yearbooks. Let’s see what Kevin’s peers had to write, shall we?
Farewells and Salutations Left in Kevin’s Yearbooks
“You are the only person I know who’s temper is shorter than he is. You’re nuts.”--Allen
“Kevin, to a very nice guy. Even though you cut me down, I don’t mind. Nice knowing you.”--Ricky
“Kevin, you’re a real nice guy that works at a store and is obscene.”--Barbara
“You’re a strange Lithuanian dwarf.”--Eugene
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The joke here, of course, is entirely on Eugene. Kevin’s not Lithuanian.
“To Kevin, alias Shorty; I am sorry that I have to disagree with you on the little matter of who is taller. I am, Shorty, and you had better start facing life the way you should.”--Cathy
“Good luck. You’re going to need it!”--Carol
“Kevin, you have certainly added ‘life’ to the classroom! At times, however, wouldn’t it have been better to divert your energy to studying?”--Mrs. Frey
“To a nice guy I wish would go somewhere.”--John
“Good luck with your girlfriend who’s coming back from the Azores.”--Sue
Author’s Note: Kevin apparently decided to one-up the kid with a girlfriend that you wouldn’t know, because she lives in Canada. I gotta give Kevin this–the Azores were a creative touch.
“To the dumbest guy in electronics class that I still hate.”--Daniel
“A real weird kid in my driver’s ed class. Good luck when trying not to hit people (so far you’ve been lucky).”--Byron
“Kevin, I guess you’re alright so I give you the privilege of having my autograph. To a very small punk who can’t keep his feet off anybody’s desk.”--Michael
“Kevin, you’re a real slob, but outside of that you’re alright. You’re lousy in math, but I guess you can’t help it.”--Bill
“Kevin, even though you call me fat, I still consider you a friend of mine.”--Laurie
“A screwy guy that has just about as much sense as a pervert in an elementary school.”--Tim
Author’s note: Ouch, Tim.
“Kevin, we expect you to come in and sand down the desk.”--Mr. Bell, Woodshop
“To a little squirt tattle tale.”--Samantha
“Kevin, how have I stood it?!? You could go so far if you’d only use your capabilities. Remember the parable of the man and the talents? Good luck.”--Mrs. Siwa
Author’s note: Mrs. Siwa seems to be referencing a Biblical story (Matthew 25:14) wherein a master gives three of his servants bags of gold to see what they will do with them. Two of the servants invest the gold and then give their master the earnings, which makes him happy, and he allows them to keep some of the gold. The third servant buries his gold in the ground like a fucking idiot and so gives his master back a bag of dirty, muddy coins. The master, unsurprisingly, is unamused, and so orders his servant to be bound hand and foot and thrown out “into the dark where there will be a weeping and a gnashing of teeth.” Mrs. Siwa got no chill.
“Kevin, you’re really weird. That’s the only way to describe you.”--Deb
“To a kid I wish would go and play in traffic sometimes.”--Lance
“I hope you go far in this world. And soon.”--Larry
“To a very nice friend, even if you are short. And if the world is lucky, you will fall over dead.”--Lee
Author’s note: Goddamn, Lee. Saying the quiet part out loud, are we?
Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. Percy Shelly once penned a poem that reminds us of him so very well. One stanza in “Ozymandias” states, “look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!” Of course, the reader is then treated to imagery of Ozymandias’s fallen kingdom.
And that’s Kevin for you. A monarch is his own imagination. A maladaptive malcontent in the public’s. A life defined by failure, incompetence, rage, and laziness, with only the detritus of his own failed enterprises to keep him company in his declining years. No thing beside remains, indeed.
Rest well and rest quietly, Kevin. We’ve earned it.

After a lengthy review of most of Tom Clancy's earlier books, I got a bunch of comments saying I skipped over a couple of his best non-Jack Ryan books, so I read them. I was burnt out on Clancy a little, because he can be heavyhanded with the politics, but these books are from the start of his career, where it's less tiresome.
Red Storm Rising (1986) is essentially a much more enjoyable version of The Bear and The Dragon. In that book, Russia is the victim of invasion after discovering a trove of oil and gold. In RSR, Russia is starved for resources, so they're the aggressors.
The basic plot is that Russia suffers a terrorist attack that, to the rest of the world, seems like just another inconsequential news blip. An oil refinery is bombed by Azerbaijani Muslim terrorists (Clancy's baddies are often either Communists or Muslims). The refinery was critical, Russia's oil reserves are already low, and now they're facing a serious shortage that could result in the death of millions, not to mention a loss of military power - planes and tanks need oil. So, rather than admit to a weakness their enemies could exploit... they decide to invade the Persian Gulf and take their oil, even though it will trigger a response from NATO.
I'm sure most older readers of this review will know this, but for any younger ones coming from the Rainbow 6 games or the Jack Ryan TV series - NATO is basically a military alliance between the USA, Canada, and Europe. The agreement is, if you attack anyone in NATO, the other countries will come to their defense. Some of the oil-producing countries in the middle east, aren't part of NATO, but are considered allies. So in the book, Russia understands that if they come for the Persian Gulf, they're basically going to war with the USA, Canada, and Europe. But they do it anyway.
Might sound farfetched but... often it seems like Clancy writes about something, and only a couple of years later, a real-world event happens that mirrors it. In this case... 4 years after the novel, we have a major oil-producer in the Persian Gulf get invaded, and NATO forces leap to their defense.
So the book shows how World War III might unfold (in the 80's) IF both sides agreed not to use nuclear weapons. Russia stages a false-flag attack that makes it look like Germany attacked them unprovoked, using that as justification to start the war by invading Germany. They figure if they can pull this off, while convincing the rest of the world it's just self-defense, they'll have a critical advantage and the rest will fall into place. They're gambling that the USA will not launch nukes, and Russia can win with conventional warfare.
As the war progresses, the perspective jumps to a bunch of characters on both sides. There's a sub captain who has to play tense 'submarine chess' with stealthy enemy subs... something done really well in The Hunt for Red October. There's a Russian government official who is exasperated at the stubborn insistence on war. There's an Air Force meteorologist stationed in Iceland, who figured he'd never have to see combat, but is suddenly thrust into a deadly situation when Russia invades Iceland.
This plot line was the most engaging for me, as the hero is a likeable guy who is not an action hero, but rises to the occasion as he makes a difficult trek across Iceland with the pressure of trying to stay hidden from Russian troops. He's forced to sneak around, radioing intel to Allied forces. This is echoed in Debt of Honor, where an American on the Mariana Islands finds himself trying to stay under the radar during a japanese invasion. He's the closest the book has to Jack Ryan, a guy who is in over his head but is game to give it his best and fight.
What I found exhausting about Bear and Dragon, is mostly absent in this book, the heavyhanded vibe of... how to say it? swaggering smart big-dick Americans shutting down foolish foreign barbarians with alien moral values. Not that this writing is 'enlightened' really. It's a very 1980's piece of work. The "Red" in the title should tell you that. Bad guy Russkis invading and starting a war, and having to be stopped by heroic US & British forces.
But the focus is mostly on the military strategy and battles, not the politics. No soapbox rants about taxes, abortion, gun control, environmentalists... just warfare. The president is barely mentioned. There's more focus on Russia - some members of the politburo understand that starting this war is nuts, but they're shouted down by the ego-driven warhawks, who have very much "drunk the Kool-Aid"... they buy into the propaganda that Russia's military is invincible, the plan is sound, and the world will rally to their cause. They're shown as squabbling old men who are only concerned with protecting their own fiefdoms and passings the buck.
The Americans though, are pretty one-dimensional... smart, brave, humble, self-sacrificing, etc. In later books, Clancy writes some more nuance and makes some of them real assholes (including one president). But in this book, the good guys are the good guys, and that's about it.
There's some simple comfort listening to a Clancy audiobook narrated by Michael Pritchard. It's square jawed military guys standing around saying stuff like "we have to hit them before they get to the river, do we have any satellite intel? major, get COMSUBLANT on the horn". The books are surprisingly free of conflict and human drama, for a depiction of WWIII. I know that sounds like a backhanded compliment, but it's kind of relaxing after reading other books featuring, say, sadistic killers or stressful hostage rescues. It woulda been interesting, though, to hear what the average American thinks of the fact that... holy shit... World War 3 just started and everyone's got nukes.
It's no spoiler to say the good guys pull through, I assume, but basically... if you like Tom Clancy's books and ever wished you could just read one without the shoehorned politics, this book is your huckleberry.
Without Remorse... eh, I didn't dig it so much. Several people said it was their favorite.
The plot: a young drug-addicted hooker, Pam, escapes from her abusive pimp, and randomly gets picked up while hitchhiking by John Kelly (later, John Clark)... a certified badass former SEAL. He's recently widowed, with plenty of time, a boat, and a house on a private island. So he picks her up, has a fling, and learns about her addiction and the hardships she's trying to leave behind. He meets a nice couple, doctors (the Rosens, who are in other books) and together, they help Pam kick her habit.
Then John decides to take her into town, and (despite her misgivings) wants her to surreptitiously point out the asshole abusers she ran from, with some plan that he'll take them out. But he badly underestimates the bad guys, they catch him off-guard, and a shotgun blast kills her and puts him in critical condition. He heals, with the help of a dedicate nurse (who he later marries). But before he can go on his mission of revenge, the government needs him to help extract some recently-discovered POWs from a camp in Vietnam... men who were reported killed, and who the Vietnamese government won't acknowledge. Politicians won't confront them about it because they don't want to jeopardize peace talks, so a team is sent in to rescue them, totally off the books and with the usual "if you're caught, you're on your own" caveats.
The best part of the book might be this subplot, where a captured American pilot is gradually broken down by a skilled Russian interrogator... a man who relies on kindness and a shared love of flying, rather than pulling out fingernails. We come to realize that this character is actually not entirely faking his decency, he hates the brutal treatment of his captives by the vietnamese, and wants to keep them alive (even though it's not entirely for altruistic purposes... the info they hold is useful to Russia, and if they could be convinced to defect.. they'd be a huge source of intelligence and insight into our military strategy). The pilot does his best to hold out, leaning on his faith and the hope of rescue, but he doesn't know that the deck is already stacked against him, there's a mole in the CIA who learns of the plan.
Most of the book is spent on Kelly's hunting the pimps and drug dealers, applying his military mindset to a personal mission. There's the sort of cliche of "this is wrong, John! It's not justice, it's revenge!" stuff. And the nurse and a cop (Jack Ryan's dad) try to steer him off this course. But Kelly isn't having any of it, and by the end of the novel, it's more like "oh, now we get it, those guys are garbage, we shouldn't have tried to talk you out of it, kill those fuckers." There's also a subplot involving the drug dealer using the bodies of KIA soldiers to bring in heroin, which I'm pretty sure I've seen in a movie or two.
The book generally is paced well, and the ending is strong. The rescue operation doesn't go as planned and John's got a hard decision to make if he wants to avoid getting caught after his vigilante killing spree. But there's a few things that just didn't work for me.
The main one is, Clancy can make some reasonably complicated bad guys with mixed motives, but mostly that's limited to the context of military or government. When it comes to criminals, they're pretty much all straightforward pieces of shit. And it's a bit much, how he'll make them just plain evil.
Like, it's not enough that Pam's pimp would be a huge asshole and abusive to the women, it's not like that's unrealistic. But they made him and his buddies so over-the-top with it (trigger warning), having whipped them, left them scarred, putting out cigarettes on their skin. Torturing one, cutting them, breaking bones, and then gang raping her for hours. And it's not enough that Kelly's wife was killed in accident, she was pregnant.
Obviously Clancy wants the reader to really, really hate the bad guy, so that when John catches and punishes him, it will feel like some big payoff. But the punishment is also over the top... Kelly makes use of a diving chamber, which has pretty horrific effects like massive joint pain, seizures, migraines, hearing loss, ruptured blood vessels, and eventually brain damage, paralysis, and death.
For me, there's no satisfaction in that stuff, and Kelly isn't really portrayed as someone who feels shame or horror at it, hence the title of the book. To me, that makes him unlikeable. What I enjoy, in books featuring one tough guy against tall odds, is what one redditor termed 'competence porn'. Not torture porn.
The book also has an attitude towards issues like addiction and sex workers that feels kinda simplistic. For example, Kelly thinks of the times he's been with prostitutes after his wife's death, and when he a soldier. "The girls he had in Vietnam, the little childlike ones... it had never occurred to him that those young women might not have enjoyed their life and work"... really? So he's a moron? He had sex with childlike prostitutes and thought they were into it? I think the 'like' part of childlike is probably a fig leaf.
Lastly, a nitpick but, John doesn't click at all for me as a protagonist, because... this is something I also felt about Jack Ryan... he feels a bit too much like Clancy's idealized cool guy, and not so much like a realistic character. Super tough, trained, fit, good-looking, retired and rich, tooling around in his big boat, bullshitting with the coasties, picking up a young hotties half his age in his cool Scout (a sorta range rover or proto-hummer) and getting laid effortlessly. Taking her back to his cool island home, helping out some other hapless boaters with his expert nautical knowledge. He's a little too perfect, with his only real flaw being the overconfidence that got him shot and his apparent naive understanding of addiction and women.
Anyway, for sure this is long enough. I think if someone already likes Clancy, and feels like his earlier stuff is his best work, then they'd probably like both books. If you're considering Clancy for the first time, Red Storm Rising would be a good introduction to the kind of writing he does best.

Thank you to Space paladin for the canvas and u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for proofreading and critique
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]
Memory transcript: Maarchal , MESEA Astronomers. Date: [Standard Farsul calendar ] september 15th, 3675
“Mom, I'm hungry!” Quarmur howled into my ear while sitting on the counter. I winced slightly from the noise.
“Quarmur, please, use your indoor voice I’m right here.” I went about chopping the pre packaged meat while she swung her legs to and fro waiting for her lunch.
Ponthyt was in the bathroom with Kurvuss scrubbing him in the bath. I could hear him struggling to clean the antsy pup.
“Mom, when are we going home?” I sighed and felt a pang of sadness strike my heart.
“I don't know honey, me and dad are being forc- Are working on something important. We don't know when it'll be done.”
The pup scoffed and folded her arms. “No you're not! You’ve just been playing with us for like… a week! I want to go home and play with my friends.”
I sighed and put the cut meat into a bowl with some sauce. “We’ve been waiting for some other people to come and help us. We should be starting later after lunch. Now, can you set the table honey?” I turned around and grabbed four plates for her to place on the table. She grabbed them and dragged her feet to the plastic table.
The apartment we were given was a hastily constructed prefab bare bones hole in the wall. It was technically bigger than our own home. But each room had bare concrete walls, plastic furniture and tiny windows. The kitchen was just barely stocked with food or utensils. Forcing me to prepare a bland meal of marinated raw meat and nut paste. Far from our usual standard.
I grabbed some forks and two ladles for their respective dishes and brought them over and made the pups and I plates. As me and Quarmur sat at the table waiting for her dad and brother we could hear screaming and splashing as Ponthyt cleaned the mud from his fur.
I sighed and put my head in my paws, the poor darling had gotten out and was freezing from rolling around in dirty snow. So he had to be given a hot bath to warm up and get clean, but he hated baths. Fighting his dad all the while, even though he likely knew it was going to get him warm.
Finally they both came back from the ordeal. Kurvuss looked happy, panting in a towel wrapped around him, while Ponthyt had a disorderly and messy coat with a shell shocked expression. As though he just fought a war… which he did.
They both sat down, Kurvuss and Quarmur dug in immediately but they did not inhale their food like usual.
“Mom, I like raw meat, but isn't it more of a snack?” Quarmur asked.
I breathed in deeply. “Yes, but we don't have anything we need to cook something more filling than this, so we have to make due.”
She prodded her food with a fork. “We’ve been eating this for days. I want something else.” I rubbed my muzzle.
“Me too, but I can't make anything else. Just eat or if you're not hungry you can go and play inside.”
She pouted. “Why can't we play outside?”
“Because it's a lot colder here and we don't have thick enough fur to stay warm."
She looked at what remained of her food and stood up and left. Kurvuss ate a few pieces of the meat and a few spoonfuls of nut paste before he left to play with his sister.
I turned and stared at my meal and without the pups seeing me I devoured it. It didn't matter how bad or repetitive it was, I was still famished. I then ate the pups leftovers.
“Mmmh, so did he give you much trouble?”
Ponthyt slowly turned his head towards me. “Yeah, well you know how he gets. I just wished he… I don't know, calmed down? I guess that is a lot to ask a three year old, but it’d make it so much less painful.”
I grabbed another scoop of the raw sauced meat. “And where's the fun in that?”
He chuckled as I grabbed his paw and rubbed it, he breathed deeply and returned the gesture before pulling away.
He then gets to work eating his food, when we’re done he takes the dirty dishes to the sink to wash them.
I sighed, I hate this government ration shit. Hopefully some actual food will be supplied when the site is fully operational.
​
**\*
​
As me and Ponthyt made our way to the lab it was cold, we were huddled together under a cloak and we were wearing snowshoes. Being so close to the south pole this whole area was deep in tundra. Hopefully in summer It'd be more hospitable.
Ponthyt opened the door and I made my way in with him following shortly after. The lab was noticeably more lavishly furnished then our apartment. With soft carpet for our feet and comfy looking furniture covered in big puffy cushions.
I suppose they want us to feel more comfortable here than where we sleep. Likely to get us to work longer. Ugh.
We made our way deeper into the building, where big blocky computer screens were set in rows and rows of desks. Only one other Farsul was in the building as far as we could tell. He was in the opposite corner of the room then us and he quickly shot up from whatever he was doing and stared directly at us. I waved my paw in greeting and Ponthyt spoke aloud.
“HI!!! Are you who've we’ve been waiting for? Where is everyone else?”
He fidgeted and made his way over to us. “J-just me. I’m a uh a uh com computer scientist. I am in charge of pro progrAMING THE SYSTEMS!!!!” Me and Ponthyt covered our ears at the outburst of the odd farsul. While he was speaking he was rubbing his paws together and snapping back and forth looking for… something.
I spoke up.”Uh, not to seem rude but… are you well enough to be trusted with this?”
He snapped his head to the left before he responded to me. “Y-yes, I'm at the top of my fi-field. The the rocks have eyes.”
“Pardon?”
He snapped his head back at me “T-the rocks. I was having a stroll a couple days a-ago and I sat down. I admired a rock and and and and it opened an eye. I was flabbergasted! I-I froze still and then it just closed it again. I Smashed it to see what was inside and there was NOTHING!!!”
I stared at Farsul for a few seconds before responding. “... Do you have schizophrenia?”
He began shaking and he rubbed his paws together more aggressively. “N-no, th-they tried to diagnose me, but f-found nothing!! The Meds d-didn't do anything e-either. Because It happened! I saw it!!! IT WAS REAL!!!”
Ponthyt grabbed my paw and put himself between me and the mentally unstable Farsul.
“Are we working here with you?” he asked.
“N-no, I’m w-working at this computer b-bank. I’m working on c-connecting them all together, to m-make more complex c-calculations faster. It's important to make a system that can c-control the interceptors.” He points a paw to a door on the left of the room. “You two will work in that shared office.” He seemed to be calming down as he spoke to us. “Sorry about my nervous energy… I… was a bit jumpy being moved here. I hope we can become better acquainted. My name is Fiar.”
Ponthtyt nodded. “I’m Ponthyt and this is my wife Maarchal.” I step out from behind him to address Fiar.
“Hello, I… hope we can get to know each other and be friends.” I put my paw forward and he grabbed and shook it.
“Me too, I just need you two to calculate Lidar data then I can base my algorithms off your process. But we'll have plenty of free time to get to know each other. I have to get back to setting up the computer bank, just howl if you need anything.”
He turned and made his way back to where he came from. Me and Ponthtyt made our way to the office he pointed out. Ponthyt slowly closed the door while looking out. He turned to me and exhaled loudly.”...Well, he certainly has a… distinct personality.”
I chuckled and sat in a cushioned chair. “Yeah, just a bit odd.” I couldn't hold my own laughter at my own quip. Ponthyt joined me and we shared a nice moment.
The office we were given was rather spacious with two desks each had a bulky computer and swivel chairs and the office as a whole had a private bathroom. Ponthyt sits down in his own chair and he smiles at me. “...Tomorrow I’m bringing a bat in case he ever tries anything.”
Our smiles faded. I wanted to object but… I didn't feel safe with such an unstable character so near. I nodded in response.
​
**\*
​
“Alright honey, come on let's eat!!!”
The plate of nine pastries me and Ponthyt cooked was set before Quarmur. Each filled with cream and jam.
Kurvuss and Ponthyt were cheering from the other side of the table. I was quietly standing behind her and rubbing her back. She looked enthused at the treats and grabbed and ate one in a single bite.
“Mhh thanks mom, thanks dad!!!” She exclaimed with a happy expression, before it turned sour.
“I wish my friend were here…” I bent down and licked her muzzle.
“Me too, but we can't help it.” Quarmur looked up at me and breathed in deeply before she went to work eating the rest of the pastries.
I stood up and walked over to a chair beside her and cut up the mersh carcass we were able to take with us. I had the foresight to save it for today in case nothing else was available. A concern I was proven right about. I gave one rib to Ponthyt, so he could share it with Kurvuss. He went to work cutting up pieces and feeding them to the toddler, who had a happy expression and yipped with every morsel he was given.
“So, how was your first day of tutoring?” I asked as I made myself a serving of the roasted meat.
Quarmur took a despondent annoyed look. “The lady that came here was mean, she made us sit still while she taught us things we already knew.” She prods her pastries with a fork.
“Don't judge her too harshly, she doesn't know you two well. Might just be learning what you need as she goes.” I mused to settle the pup's distraught mood.
“How was your day at work?” Kurvuss asked us.
I turned and smiled warmly at him. “Well, we went by and visited rocket makers!!! Then we went to work and met a crazy guy!"
Kurvuss and Quarmur turned towards us with beaming eyes. “Really?” “How crazy!” they both said over the top of each other.
I nodded. “Well he was looking all over the place like he was searching for something.” I leaned down and put my arms on the table.
Ponthyt cuts in. “He said the rocks have eyes!!!”
“Woah really?” “They do???”
I chuckled. “Well, he certainly thinks so. Said he saw one blink when he picked it up!”
Ponthyt had a creeping, mischievous expression overtake his face. “Maybe you two can look for one when the snow melts this spring? I know you’d be very famous if you found one!!!”
The pups snapped their heads towards each other. “Mom can we” “Let's go out tomorrow!!!"
I lifted my paws in the air to quiet their excitement. “Woah woah, You can look when it's warmer in the spring!!! As for now, how about you plan it? Get everything ready?”
The pups looked at each other before they bolted off. I saw them grab paper and crayons. Making a plan for their eventual discoveries. I turned to Ponthyt. “Heh, well that got them excited huh?”
He leans back in his chair. “Well, at least they're not sad about being out here for now.” I breathed in deeply and looked at the table. They had stopped eating right in the middle of the meal from excitement over the idea we suggested. I couldn't help but laugh at it. Ponthyt joined me. “Well, as long as we're here we can at least find some moment of fun.”
I nodded. “Let's just try to get this done as soon as we can. I want to go home too.”
​
*** several months later**\*
​
THREEOOOOOOOMMMMMMM
The rocket shot off the launchpad with a cloud of dust being pushed from the surrounding area. The Lidar array quickly tracked it, making a series of clicks as it shot out dozens and dozens of light bursts. The blocky apparatus was mounted on a robotic arm and was tracking the projectile as it shot up into the atmosphere.
“Mark one has reached designated altitude. Preparing the interceptor program.” The rocket technician behind me spoke aloud. Ponthyt was right by my side. Holding my paw as we watched the second missile launch. It was rapidly approaching where we thought the target was.
On the monitors I saw what the computer did. Two green dots, one marked as control and the other as target. I grabbed my binoculars and looked at the sky. The target was making erratic movements to the absolute limit of what they were capable of. Turning and weaving with such vigor that any more effort and they would have torn themselves to shreds. The sounds while miles away were still so loud I felt them vibrate the whole vehicle.
I looked away from the sky to the shielded observation building a few miles away. Admiral Gurq was sitting in a lavish chair with a screen displaying the action a high distance camera was recording. A few other high ranking generals were there with him doing the same.
Turning away from the abhorrent men I went back to observing the chase in the sky. The interceptor was chasing the target with vigor. Turning this way and that. Matching the evasive maneuvers of the target effortlessly.
“Mark one deploying flares.” the rocket technician said before flipping a switch on his control panel. I saw the target shoot out dozens and dozens of small extremely bright projectiles all out from its side, meant to confuse the Lidar. But our interceptor was not fooled and with a final bit of chase successfully hit the target's thruster and destroyed it. Making a huge fireball in the sky and vibrating the vehicle one final time.
Ponthyt, I and Fiar cheered as we saw the display. It meant we were so much closer to being let off this restricting place and going home!!!
Fiar seemed the quickest to lose his enthusiasm, the Farsul while never as off putting as the first time we met, was still something of a paranoid conspiracy nut. '`You know I don't think they'll let us go anytime soon.” He mused.
Ponthyt waved a paw dismissively.”Com’on we gave them what they wanted!!! What more could they need us for? Don't be so pessimistic Fiar. I’m sure we just need to hand the reins over to some military officers and we’ll be ready to go home within the month!!!”
He shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that… But I'll try to be a little more optimistic.”
I smiled and turned to the driver. “We’re done with the display. You can take us back to base now.”
The Farsul in military garb nodded and started the engine and drove back to the site over uneven terrain. He parked just outside the observation building where all the military heads were exiting. They were all clapping and howling with joy at the display.
The driver then exited the cabin and lowered the ramp and set it in place for us to exit the vehicle's bed. Fiar and Ponthyt made their way ahead of me. Ponthtyt turned around when I made my way to the ramp and extended a paw to help me climb down. With one paw on the railing and another in his paw I stepped down slowly to the ground.
“Excellent show!!! This will help immensely with our military!” A general shouted.
“I can already see how manned pilots are a thing of the past!!!’ another shouted. I cover my ears to keep them from being damaged by all the excited talks.
Admiral Gurq raised a paw and all the chatter died down. He walked to us and rubbed his paws together, he did not seem as enthused as the others. “I am deeply pleased by your progress in such a short amount of time. I want to congratulate you all on your hard work!”
I smiled and waged my tail. “Excellent, I can't wait to go home and put this whole experience behind me!!!” His slight smile wavered and fell.
“Ah, about that… I’ve been talking with everyone and we all agree… this techs applications are much more far reaching than I realized. They want you to develop… other weapons with it…”
Rage suddenly scorched my inside. That wasn't part of the deal!!! “With all due… respect. You said all we were needed for were these interceptors. To fix a problem you made, considering you couldn't keep track of your own staff.”
He looked to the ground and solemnly spoke. “I know, but if we do not explore this to the fullest extent. Someone else will and we will be crushed by them.”
I closed my fist and spoke through gritted, grinding teeth. “Isn't that exactly what got you into the situation that you need us?”
He sighed and turned away. He and the rest of his entourage got into a shuttle that took them to a high speed private jet. As we watched them speed off to who knows where we all stared in silence at the cold indifference of the military man.
That was the first time we saw him since we moved here, so much for seeing us on the site regularly.
​
**\*
​
“I knew this would happen, I knew it would!!!” Fiar screamed.
‘“That son of a bitch, he lied to our faces.” Ponthyt quietly muttered.
After the showcase we all went back to the lab and we were staring at the booze that was meant to be consumed in celebration. Now they were not touched as we all screamed our frustration.
“You know what it is? I think he knew that scientist would get kidnaped! He let it happen to generate a crisis that he could use to get more power!!!”Fiar spoke while flailing his arms about.
Normally I tuned out his insane ramblings, but I was so angry and this suggestion made too much sense. I pointed a digit at him. “I would not be surprised, the bastard doesn't seem to be as empathetic as he lets on. I think it's all an act not to seem like a psycho to his subordinates.” I took a sip of greenberry juice. “Mhh, I bet there wasn't even a kidnapped scientist. I bet he pulled the entire story out his ass!!!”
Fiar nodded in agreement. He grabbed the liquor and poured three glasses and handed one to Ponthyt and then made to hand me another. I growled at him and rubbed my pregnant belly. He looked down and took note of it before rescinding his offer. “Sorry, I forgot.”
I didn't know how, I was visibly pregnant and he knew I was for all the time we worked together.
He and Ponthyt downed their glasses in a hurry.
“I say we sabotage our work from now on, Make him not need us anymore!!!” Fiar screamed as he downed the glass he made for me and made Ponthyt another.
Ponthyt shook his head. “No, he knows we are capable of the work. If we do that he’ll see right through us and do something to make us work well. He might get us under constant supervision. or worse.”
Fiar scoffed and folded his arms. “They already do!!! The rocks have cameras or something! I bet he's listening in on us now!!!”
I rubbed my muzzle. “Are you still on that “the rocks have eyes” mershit? Besides if that's true, why did you suggest sabotaging our work? He’d know now and do something about it!!!” I screamed.
Fiar sat down in a seat across from me and made himself and Ponthyt another glass of liquor. “I saw it with my eyes and then next thing I know I’m shipped here. I know what I saw, they spied on me and forgot to hide it and now I’m their fucking beast of thought along with you two.” He downed his glass and wiped his lips. “I am being forced to serve a cause I fucking hate!!!"
I growled at nobody in particular. “My pups are isolated from all their friends and can't leave this compound without permission! They can't even explore around it! And now I’m giving birth here!!! God that son of a whore is just… GOD I WANT WRING HIS NECK!!!!” I screamed.
Ponthyt rubs his muzzle and sighed. “What can we do? He has the backing of the whole military and has us locked up here tight!!!”
I crossed my arms and thought. “We could send a message.”
They both turned their heads to me. “What? He will definitely see that and we can't exactly say it was an accident!” Ponthyt responded.
I turned to my side of the office, on the wall were posters of space opera books. Pictures of mega-structures I painted and sketches of aliens I made up. “What if we sent it to the stars?”
Fiar crossed his arms before he went to make himself another glass. “And what will we ask and what would that accomplish? Heck, how could we even know anyone would be listening, or even listen in time?”
I shot up my arms. “I don't know!!! It's better than just sulking here though.”
We all stared at each other, Ponthyt broke the silence. “Let's do it, we have a large dish array, we could send anything we want out into the solar system.”
Fiar looked a bit amused. “Yeah, and it's not like he could punish us for sending a signal out to nowhere!!!”
I smiled and stood up. “Yeah, me and Ponthyt will write it and Fiar you can direct it. Let's do it just for fun. We can figure out how to get out of here tomorrow!” They howled in agreement and me and Ponthyt went to my computer to write it up while Fiar ran out of the room to program the dish.
​
**\*
​
“And there it goes” Fiar spoke aloud as the dish hummed to life. We just sent a meaningless message to Curbosa, we all howled in pride. Not that it meant anything, we all stared at the pale dot in the sky and admired it. It was a nice distraction from our reality.
In the midst of my admiration for the night sky I felt something inside me. A small pressure against my stomach that pushed my skin outwards. “Oh my.” I grabbed at my stomach and rubbed.
Ponthyt took on a look of worry and made his way in front of me. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “No, no, just felt a kick. Here.” I grabbed his paw and led it to the area, we stood like that for a few moments before I felt another kick. He cleared did too as he looked up at me with abject joy. I hugged him and we held each other there for a few moments. At least we could still make a few memories of happiness in this troubling time.
I spied Fiar looking at us with envy and sadness as we held each other. “What's wrong Fiar?” I asked after me and Ponthyt ended our embrace.
"It's just… I was engaged when they picked me up. It's been on hold and it might now potentially never happen. If it wasn't for that rat bastard me and her would probably be doing what you two are. I loathe him for robbing me of it.” I took on a face of sympathy and went over and hugged him. He didn't know how to react. But it did not take long for his walls to break down and he cried quietly.
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: Talsk

Cold, dark, quiet, these were all I had known for so long. I stood in utter silence on the moon around this blue ice giant. I turned my head and studied the swirling masses of storms and jetstreams, it was beautiful. But it was dead. I panned over to the green and blue orb that I made. It was so much more eloquent. Deserts, rainforest and mountain steppe. A world with its own natively evolved life was both a rarity and my purpose. I terraformed so many dead worlds. So that mortals may inhabit them. Living blissful, short lives.
But this was the most important one I had made in my entire existence. I had brought back a place for the Farsul to live on their own terms. A place where no one but themselves could determine their own destinies.
I had left loose on their world a Proverbial Adam and Eve, two beings I created with centuries long lives, and each of their gametes were genetically from a completely different Farsul, I instructed them to populate thare world and populate they did.
I eventually stepped back, shielding my gaze from their wonderful progress. And now I wait here. In the cold, quiet and dead void of space.
It was strange. Before, I could watch their star be born and die, and the nebulae reform into a new star. But now in these short years I was finding myself becoming inpatient. Maybe… I can try to get a closer look again? No no, remember what happened last time. I can't afford revealing myself to them. They need to find me on their own.
Suddenly within my musing I heard a faint message on radio waves, direct at this planetary system.
Hello, whoever might be seeing this. I am Maarchal and this is my husband Ponthyt. Someone else is in here too. His name is Fiar. but he's a bit crazy. We are scientists and we love space and all that's in it. We stare out into the void and our eyes are filled with wonder. Please , if anyone is out there. We would love to talk.
I froze in my tracks. Fiar was a name I recognized. When I had let temptation overtake me. I had activated a stone observation drone. The poor darling was so frightened by the stone it was holding blinking he had smashed it to dust. I suppose I have already blown my cover then.
I was filled with embarrassment and joy. I could finally interact with them!!! I shot up off this dead rock and made my way to them. From the signal I could trace them somewhere in the middle of a southern tundra. An odd place for what I assumed was an observatory. But nevertheless I make my way there.
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]

REPOST. NOT MY STORY. Just thought it was hilarious and would share.
CREDIT: sooner78wakeboard
Listen folks, here’s the deal. I was the team mascot in college. Not the quarterback or the 3rd baseman, the Mascot. This, I’m afraid, is a true story. Let me paint the picture for you. I rolled into college at a blazing 5’9 ¾ and weighing an astounding 125lbs. Let me paint a better picture for you, that’s a skinny b*tch. Even the golf team laughed at me. I hate golf.
Now, a man of this build doesn’t have a tremendous amount of options when it comes to competitive sports. Or recreational sports. Or online sports. However, there was one activity I found that might fit my skills. The Mascot.
Here is a list of the skills required to become and perform as the team mascot:
Ability to work a zipper Ability to sweat 90lbs of fluid every 8 minutes That’s it. Seemed reasonable. I joined.
Now, the reason I’m telling you this useless information is to preface a story that has been a favorite of my friends. It is the story of a small town parade, a 125lb man in a tiger costume, and the EMS, Police and Fire Rescue. In no particular order.
You see, I had been invited to perform in a small town parade somewhere in Alabama (and by invited, the school made me go). This was not very uncommon as the mascot was often times requested for appearances ALL OVER THE HORRIBLE STATE OF ALABAMA. For free. In the summer. Which was hot as ball$.
I drove down to the small town in my red Acura Integra hatchback and found a parking spot, which would conveniently double as my changing room.
I can’t remember how, but I did get the mascot suit on by myself and headed toward the parade. Just a man in a tiger costume walking down the street. Carpe Diem.
The parade started and I bounced around the different floats along the route annoying entertaining the crowd. At one point, I decided to hop on the back of a fire truck to be funny (and by funny I mean because I was tired, hot and bored out of my dumb brains).
The truck rolled along the parade route and I decided to climb up the back and onto the top where all the hoses are stacked. Why? Because it beats walking around in a faux-fur tiger costume unable to consume oxygen because the head is constructed with only two air holes each the size of an ant fetus. That’s why.
As I sat atop the fire truck waving to the people along the parade route, we came to a turn in the route. You see, the parade veered left, but the fire truck keep going straight.
A bit of a conundrum for tiger-man.
I watched the parade get smaller and smaller the further we got away. I also noticed the fire truck turned on all the lights and sirens.
Joy.
I then realized the fire truck was going EIGHTY MILES AN HOUR DOWN THE DAMN HIGHWAY.
Let’s pause for a moment here. At this point, I’m a 20-year-old young adult, in a very noticeable and encumbering tiger costume, sweating nuts, on the top of a fire truck. Going 80 mph. TO A FIRE.
The driver had no idea I was on top. Interesting.
I will be honest. I didn’t have a ton of options at this point. I crawled to the side of the truck and carefully leaned over where I could see the driver’s side mirror. In the mirror, I could see the drivers face. Approximately 1 minute later, his dumb ass saw my face. Which was a tiger head. Staring at him, emotionless, on top of his fire truck. Doing 80 down the highway — going to a fire.
There are a few things in my life that are scarred into my memory. One is watching my dad go to jail five different times. Another is the look on that man’s face when he noticed a tiger on the top of his truck. Awkward.
Needless to say, ol’ boy pulled over on the side of the highway shouting profanities (towards what I assumed was me) to “GET OFF HIS (expletive) TRUCK”. I did. He then asked, “WHAT THE (expletive) ARE YOU DOING” where I simply told him…
(Note to the reader: As the Team Mascot, there was a code in which you never talk with the head on. This was thought to help improve your non-verbal communication skills, which are critical to performing in front of crowds.)
Therefore, I just stared back at him.
After the world’s worst staring contest, ol’ boy got back in the truck and took off. Leaving me, THE TIGER, alone on the side of a highway, in the middle of Alabama.
As a natural survivalist, I oriented myself in the direction we came from and simply started walking back towards the part of the state that held the parade. My un-educated guess was that we had traveled around 10–15 miles, so walking back to the parade (wearing size 25 tiger feet and 100lbs of shag fur) should only take around 2–6 months. This, of course, was assuming I didn’t die of multiple heat strokes, or from a couple good ol’ boys returning from a hunt — only to hunt again — and mount me in their garage.
A few minutes later, as I walked down the side of the highway waving at passing cars like a complete idiot, a police car pulled up, full bells and whistles. I imagined they would cut the tiger costume off me before putting me in general population of the county jail where I would clearly be auctioned off as someone’s b*tch for 3 cigarettes and a bag of Fritos. I couldn’t wait.
The cop asked me where I was going, what I was doing and who I was to which I replied…
(Nothing)
After another awkward silence with authority, he told me to get in the backseat of the cop car. Have you ever been in the back of a cop car? In a tiger costume? Tweet me.
He took me back to the parade route and dropped me off in the middle of town which now had NO PARADE. At this point, I was just a dude in a tiger costume, wandering through a small town in middle of Alabama. Perfect.
I finally found my used Integra, somehow, and tore off my Tiger costume. I drove back to school and NEVER TOLD A F*CKING SOUL.
PS. I won the College National Championship for Mascots in 1995 LIKE A BOSS!
Swear to God.

Summary During a eventfull evening with the Glenwood pack. Seer is chased by their mate Beth as pay back for them leaving her on the ladder alone. When things go wrong but may have a positive outcome Notes My first story so I'm not very good at this. I wrote this on Google docs. It's a fan fic/AU See the end of the work for more notes
Seer turns into a shifter
TW: Blood Violence I imagine myself as Seer in this story. Seer stands near the front door to the den during Thanks giving when they suddenly hear. Beth: "where is my mate" Seer dashes out the door and runs into the woods with wolf Beth right behind them. While in the trees Beth catches up and jumps on Seers back pinning them to the ground. She pushes her paws into Seers body nut since she's upset she uses too much of her strength and blood begins to gush out of their wound. Horrified Beth jumps off before frantically turning back. She begins to Shreak Beth: Claire Claire. Claire stands in her living room with Knight and Genieve thinking that its best to let Seer and Beth sort of their conflict. Geneve hears Beth screaming and smells Seers blood. She uses her Valp abilities to speed into the woods with Calire and Knight following. They run right into the woods and see Seer lying on the ground with Beth kneeling next to them her tears soaking the soil. Claire kneels down and examines Seers wound while Knight and Evie try to comfort Beth as she falls I to their arms. Knight: what happened. Beth tries to explain but her sobs get in the way. Evie: don't worry Beth Claire can heal them she's a mighty blood mage. It's going to be OK. Claire: they've lost a lot of blood she says hardly keeping her voice steady. Even if I heal them it might be too late. Evie: what if we give them a blood transfusion that would work. Knight: but then they'd be a shifter too like us. Claire: it should be their choice but it's not like we can ask. We can't use my blood I'll need my strength to make sure their body accepts the new blood Knight: use mine I can take it. I'm strong enough. And they'd do it for me. Beth shakes her head Use mine I'm the reason there in this mess and they're my mate. Claire agrees and she uses her magic to transfer some of Beth's blood into Seer Beth: OH God I hope this works. She sobs. W we c c can't lose anyone else she cries harder thinking about that night and all the blood that was spilled. Evie gently picks up Seer and carries them up stairs into one of the spare rooms and places them in a soft bed. Seer lies there fast asleep with Beth right next to them staring at them thinking replaying the accident over and over again. "All this because they didn't hold a ladder. And off corse they're going to blame themselves for this" Claire: it's not your fault Beth or theirs sometimes things happen that we can't control. All of a sudden there's the sound of loud footsteps charging up the stairs and Simon barges into the room. Simon: Knight told me what happened. Claire are they going to be ok. What can I do? Claire: they should be fine we've given them a blood transfusion so their going to be a shifter now. Can you go get some food and water for Beth she's going to need it after the blood she's lost. Simon nods and walks away down the stairs. And returns with food. Beth tries to eat but it's like chewing carpet. She continues to stare at Seers wound and their face. Along with Simeon. He feels fatherly love for Seer thinking back to the time he welcomed them into their pack and how he hugged them so tight he thought he had broken Seers rib. Simeon: people always look so young when they sleep. All the stress melts away. Especially for them since their visons make them worried alot. He Says Beth nods. Theyll shift before they wake up since their body is still getting used to its new blood you'll have to calm them down and explain honey. Claire finishes healing Seers wound and yawns. "I need to go to bed ill need my strength back incase anything goes wrong when Seer wakes up in the morning." Claire hugs Beth before walking out of the room with Simeon following The next day Seers body shifts into their wolf form and they begin the stir and suddenly wake and begin to thrash around and yelp with pain. Beth quickly moves foreword and pushes Seer back down onto the bed Beth: "ssssshhhhh beautiful it's OK it's OK. I'm here I'm here.” Seer starts to calm down and make snarling sounds of confusion. While trying to take deep breaths. They start to roll over and fall out of the bed onto the floor. Beth rubs their hand and pulls Seers head onto her lap. "Beautiful it's OK. You're not dreaming you're a shifter like me now. After last night we had to give you some of my blood since you lost too much. So now you're like me. You'll always be a shifter but don't worry you'll be able to turn onto your human form. After while. I'll reach you how once you get some of your strength back." Seer begins to look around the room. Beth knows Seer well enough that she knows they're looking for the others even through they can't talk as a wolf Beth: "the Claire Simeon Knight and Evie are here but they're keeping their distance since having too many people around might be overwhelming for you. " I I'm so sorry beautiful so so sorry" she begins to tear up again and Seer whimpers and rubs their head against her trying to calm her down and tell her it's not her fault. Beth takes a deep breath. And starts to calm herself. You know Isla is going to be jealous that you shifted before her. Says Simon walking onto the room and bending down to rub Seers muzzle. Beth: Simeon you're not supposed to be in here yet. You'll overwhelm them. Simeon: oh relax they're fine right he says looking at Swer who nods weakly and tries to smile despite having sharper teeth. Beth: that's right beautiful try to rest. Now. In a couple of days we'll gather the whole pack and go for a run. It'll be amazing gliding through the woods. I still remember the first time I ran as a wolf I felt so free and powerful. Seer and Beth both climb back into the bed together and fall onto a deep sleep holding eachother in a loving embrace.
The morning after
Chapter Summary Seer wakes up the morning after Thanksgiving and has to get used to their new form and abilities
Seers eyes flutter open. There still in their wolf form and look over and see human Beth snuggled up next to them. Feeling her warmth. They feel excited to know what's it's like for Beth when she shifts to comfort them in the night when their visons make their anxiety flaire up. Seer lifts up their head and sniffs the air through their nose. And they feel completely overwhelmed by the seats that are in the room from their own smell to Beth's to the cotton sheets and blanket and traces of Claire and Simeon. Their sudden movements wake up Beth who groans sleepily still tired from her sleepless night watching Seer. She gently reaches up and strokes Seers muzzle. Beth: “I know it's overwhelming but you'll get used to it with time. Try to breathe slowly” Seer sticks our their tounge between their teeth like a puppy dog and makes a big show of panting slowly. Beth is torn between being annoyed with her mates sarcasm and being glad they're in a good enough mode to be a smartass. She giggles. As they stare at eachother with the loving gaze they always use when they share a moment. Seer always knew that they would face any challenge for Beth regardless of its their visons or being a shifter. It is always worth it. Not that Seer minds being a shifter they're over the moon about it. And they think about all the things that they'll be able to do with their pack. Their family. Claire walks into the room then. She smiles seeing Beth and Seer together. Somethings never change she thinks to herself. Claire: “Glad to see you're well rested. Through now it's the middle of the night. The rest of the packs here. Through they're outside near the bonfire. They want to see you. You up for it? Beth looks over at Seer who nods excitedly before gently jumping off the bed careful not to scratch Beth with their claws or land on Claire. They stretch their muscles and shake their fur like a wet dog. Beth: “don't worry beautiful I'll brush you later. Before I teach you to change back. Seer wags their tail at Beth before they start to slowly walk out of the room still Abita unsure since their on four legs. They start to walk through the rooms door way. It's a tight squeeze. Beth: “suck it in Beatiful.” And giggles. Seer gets through the door and turns around tencing up their muscles to show off. Before they keep walking down the hallway. On the way to the stairs they walk past a mirror. They stop and walk back to stare at their reflection. They strike a pose. Thinking “oooooo hello” and they wink at their own image. Claire: “Come on Seer before I have Simeon Knight and Evie carry you down the stairs like a disobedient puppy.” Seer walks down the stairs carefully not wants to do wolf matrix move outtakes on the way down. They reach the bottom of the stairs and put their paws on the front door like a dog needing to go outside. Claire walks up and opens the door. Knowing the wind must have blown it shut. Seer walks to the front of the den with Beth at their side and Claire not far behind. They each feel the chilly air Travel up their bodied. The pack is waiting for them excitedly around the bonfire keeping warm. Simon stands up and walks over to Seer as they approach the fire rejoicing in the warmth it provides. Simon places a plate infront of Seer. Simon: “your first meal as a wolf my child.” Seer loves the taste especially now that their senses are stronger and they wolf it down while Simon pets them like a house pet. The rest of the pack continues to stare at Seer in awe of their new form. Isla runs up to Seer and hugs them. They bend down and hug them back as she seems to sink into Seers fur. The wind picks up blowing more of Isla scent into Seers nose and again they are overwhelmed by it along with the scents of the rest of the pack and the forest. Seer shakes their head to try and clear. Isla: Ooops sorry Seer I forgot it can be overwhelming. It'll be thr same for me when I first shift. Seer yelps excited to Isla and steps forward before giving her a huge lick across her face. Like a house dog. “Ewww” says Isla as Allen and Hazel laugh along with the rest of the pack. Tristan: “You should have seen that coming kid” he says before giggling. Isla: “has Ranger stuck a dog collar on you lately Triscuit” Beth: “Yeah Triscuit Kakis told me you need to stop getting caught out in the woods” Claire: “Speaking of the woods who wants to go for a run with me Seer and Beth tonight?” Hazel and Allen refuse since they want to stay with Isla since she needs to sleep. Ro and Tristan want to stay behind since they want to start working on some overalls for Seer. Simeon: I'll go. I want to be with my child on this special occasion. Claire: alright let's go change into our overalls. Me and Simon will go first. Beth: I'll stay with you beautiful until the others get back. You shouldn't be alone right now this is still alot for you. When Claire and Simeon get back I'll go get changed” Simeon and Claire walk away. Leaving Beth and Seer alone in the forest. Beth: you're doing so well beautiful. I'm so proud of you. And despite what happened I'm glad I can share such a big part of my life with you. I'm also glad that the others are happy as well. Through they already adored you. Seer wags their tail. And thinks “It's not just me who did well its also Claire she healed me and you for being so strong through everything you been through both before and now. You're so strong love plus you're hot headed and stubborn which also helps. Claire and Simeon walk back outside and Beth strokes Seer one more time before walking towards the den to change into her overalls.
Seers first run
Chapter Summary As a right of passage of being a shifter Seer now gets to run through the woods of the pack territory with their mate
After Claire Beth and Simeon shift into their wolf forms. Beth steps forward towards Seer and rubs her muzzle against them. Seer feels the warmth of her body and hot breath against their face as well as love. Despite them still not used to being in their wolf form it feels oddly right. Like now they belong Suddenly Seer hears a soft voice in their head. Which for a normal person would feel unusual but to them they feel oddly used to it since they hear voices when they have their visons. Beth: “Beautiful can you hear me? Seer nods their head looking at Beth. Remember that she once mentioned that shifters can speak to each other telepathy when they're in their wolf forms. Beth: “You can talk to me as well like this. But only when you direct your through towards me” Seer: “What about Claire and Simeon? She they alright?” Beth: “yeah their fine. They're just keeping quiet since they don't want to overwhelm you. Start moving forward when you're ready. You don't need to rush we're going at your pace. And we'll be right here with you. Now try and concentrate on your senses what you hear and smell.” Seer raises their head and takes a deep breath of the chilly night air. They are amazed at all the things they smell. From the animals hiding away in the night along with the smells of soil and decaying plants. They perk up their ears and the wilderness comes alive with sound. Like a musical of nature. They hear the steps of animals dashing along the ground to the rustle of leaves blowing in the cold wind to the sounds of night insects chirping away. Seer is amazing by all these new experiences and is awed at how much they missed back when they were only a human with their dull senses. Beth: “Amazing isn't it? So much order and chaos all mixed together in a wonderful display of nature and beauty. Just like you” Seer feels energy and power surging through their muscles and they take off running into the wilderness with Beth right next to them and Claire and Simeon behind them. The forest feels dense but it seems to part ways allowing them through like it's molding itself into a passage just for them. Seer feels amazing as they rush through trees still hearing the beauty of their surroundings and basking in the smell and sights that dance in their mind. Seer feels a new feeling. They feel free. They've let go of all the stresses of being human. From the endless work days to the mundane chooses that always demand attention. The wind rushes over their body as they move making them feel apart of the incredible environment around them. It feels like heaven as they continue to rush into the night.
Playtime as a wolf
Chapter Summary Seer plays in the woods with their pack mates
Trigger warning: Violence (not sure if wrestling counts but it's worth mentioning) The wolves comtinue runbingbthrough the forest the moonlight shimmering through the trees. Suddenly they arrive in a wide clearing. As if nature had opened itself up so that they could stand in the open. They stare up at the star filled sky the moonlight glistening in their wide eyes as they bask in the beauty of the universe. Seer: “Amazing isn't it. They say In awe still staring up transfixed. Beth: “Yes it is. But it still has nothing on you beautiful” she says softly and warmly stating at her make as the moonlight glistens off there Grey fur. Seer turns back to Beth and they look into eachothers eyes with the same wonder and love that they did on the night that Beth confessed her love and Seer returned her passion. Claire and Simeon walk up to the two love birds in furcoats. And stretch their bodies still filler with energy from their run. Claire: you want to wrestle Beth? Since we didn't get a change too earlier at thanks giving. She says excitedly eying up her pack mate. Beth: maybe another time. I don't feel up to. Suddenly she jumps at Claire catching her off guard and they begin to roll along the dirt covered ground Beth taking a early advantage. Simeon walks up to Seer slowly and calmly. Amusement in his eyes as he watches his girls battle it out. Seer: it feels different watching now. Like I'm apart of the action that makes sense. Simeon: Yeah. It's pretty fun. Plus it sometimes gives us a change to practice healing magic. He chuckles happily. You and I can go if you feel comfortable. Through it wouldn't be a fair fight since I'm bigger than you.” Seer: Even so I could still take you they say confidently. Alright on the count of three They square up in front of each other and Seer count one, two then they take a tip from Beth and jump on Simeon and they both begin to rustle together laughing the whole time. But it ends with Simeon on top of Seer his bigger form giving him a edge. Seer: Beth Claire help our dad is too heavy for me they say in a joking pleading voice. Claire and Beth both suddenly stop and fake glare at Simeon. Simeon: “ooooo scary” they say in a fake scared voice that trembles mockingly Claire: “How about you pick on someone your own size Simeon” she says confidently drawing herself up to full height and mockingly growling along with Beth. Simeon: “I'm still bigger than you” he says matter of factly stating the obvious. Beth: “Maybe but can you take all 3 of us?” Seer gets to their feet and quickly runs up next to Beth ready for round 2 with their dad. Simeon: “you'll have to catch me first he says sticking out his tounge and dashing out of the clearing with his 3 children in hot pursuit.
After run brushing
Chapter Summary Being in the woods has lead to Seer being covered in dirt and debris so Beth decides to give Seer a nice brushing session like they did after Beth's hunting trips
Simeon dashes out of the tree line and towards the den. With Seer, Claire and Beth on his tail. He dashes towards the den and up the wooden steps and through the front door. He shifts back into his human form his overalls overnight his muscular body. and smiles smugly at the wolves as they come in. Simeon: “I won sweeties” and laughs before wiping the sweat off his forehead. Genieve: “wow looks like you lot had some fun. Maybe next time me and Knight can come too.” Claire and Beth stop easily and they also shift back. But Seer being inexperienced in their new form their overalls also shifting back and covering their body. Beths design working well. Slides along the shinny wooden floor and smacks into the wall across the room. Beth: “Beautiful you alright” Seer nods happily and shakes their head to clear it. They're tail is wagging like crazy smacking onto the side of their body and they pant with their tounge hanging out. Claire: “looks like someone needs some help calming down. Luckily their is a way we can help you with that. Isn't there Beth?” she says looking at Swer and putting their head gently. Beth: “that's right. Now it's my turn to pamper you beautiful. Now I'm going to go get my brush then you can experience the pleasure of being groomed.” She says happily before walking away up the stairs them creaking as she climbs Simeon also walks away to take a shower and change out of his overalls. As he waks past Seer he gives them a large stroke on their back. “I'll never forget this night. You won't either. It was amazing my child. I love you” he continues walking. Claire keeps staring at Seer before the sound of footsteps from the next room pulls her gaze away as Ranger steps into the room. Dressed in comfy evening wear along with their signature Ranger hat. Seer notices that when Claire sees Ranger her grin widens. And they feel even happier for her. And make a note to tell Beth and Simeon about it later. Claire: “Hey there hotshot. I'm guessing Knight and Evie told you about recent events” she says in a warm voice a little louder than normal since she feels excited about the nights run. Ranger smiles back at Ranger. “Evie said that next time we should all go together.” he says excitedly loving the idea Claire: “how would you keep up with us?” Ranger: “easy I'd borrow your bike.” They laugh. Seer continues watching and listening they feel so happy that their relationship seems to be going strong. After all Claire deserves it and so does Ranger. Beth walks down the stairs carrying her fur brush having kept her overalls on since she's probably going to be covered in wolf hair from Seers brushing. Beth sits on the floor next to her mate. And pats her lap inviting Seer to lie their head their. “Beautiful this is going to feel lovely after all I enjoy it when you do it for me” She begins sliding the brush gently along Seers fur making a warm sound as it flides along. Seers eyes flutter as their skin is messaged by Beth's warm hands and brush. Lose hair begins coming free of Seers form. And sticking to the brush. Ranger steps forward wanting to help Beth clean the brush. But they also want to study how Beth brushes Seer taking mental notes for when they will do it for Claire. Ranger also reaches up and starts to scratch Seer behind their ears. Making a scratching sound and causing Seer to whine like a puppy. Beth “see beautiful feels lovely doesn't it. Plus now you're the puppy not me she teases.” Seer pays attention to what Beth says since she is always their first priority regardless of the situation. But they decide to ignore the teasing aspect wanting to instead to let them all enjoy the moment and the warm feelings it gives them.
Seer speaks with the vampire Celiene
Chapter Summary Having some self doubt Seer decides to visit an old friend of the pack. Celiene since her age gives her alot of wisdom
On a dark cloudless night Seer runs through the woods alone as a wolf their powerful hearing the sounds of owls and night insects. When they finally reached the edge of the woods they slide to a stop. Since he feels nervous about what they are about to do his ears perk up subconsciously listening for any sounds of danger despite knowing that there wouldn't be any and even if there was the vampire court would rush to his aid should it be needed. Seer starts to think over what they are going to say for the hundredth time that night. While they look over the Manor house warm light shining through it's windows the blackout curtains being opened after sun set. Seer knew that the curtains extended towards the ground leaving no chance of sunlight getting through. Seer shakes their head to clear it. And to pull themselves back to reality. They tended to space out alot even without their visons they change into their form. And their overalls slide onto their body. Before walking towards the manors front door. They stare at the door its polished wood glistening in the moon and star light. Seer thinks about if they shoud know or just walk in. Celiene knows they're visiting having requested a invite awhile ago plus celiene knows they're there since she can hear them. Seer opens the door quietly and walks in the door doesn't make a sound since it's so well made and maintained. Seer enters the living room. The walls are painted dark colors and a fire crackles all to make the room feel cozy and warm to make the courts visitors feel ease. “Hello my dear Oracle.” a warm comforting voice says from the top of a set of stairs. There stands the vampire Queen Celiene dressed in a lose comfortable shirt and worn jeans. Still looking lovely as she calmly walks down the stairs looking like a beautiful godess. At the bottom of the stairs Celiene gives Seer a gentle hug. “you look well my dear. But where is Bethany?” Asks Celiene “She's at the Den sleeping. She offered to come but I wanted to be alone tonight. Besides she needs to rest since she's been super busy with her seamstress work and hunting with the pack. She deserves a night off” Celiene gestures to some furniture and they walk together and sit down. On a pair of leather seats near a coffee table “can I offer you a drink? Coffee? tea? Water?” Seer just shakes their head wanting to get to the reason they visiting. “Celiene do you miss being human or want to be human again?” Asks Seer leaning foreward. Celiene thinks about it. She leans back in her chair and pondered the question. “Well my dear. I don't remember my human life so I can't miss what I don't know. As for being human…. It has both upsides and downsides just like being a vampire. I have all the time in the world to read and study whatever I want plus i have my court. But I do sometimes wish I could go for a walk in the sunlight and I do miss all the people I've lost over my lifetime. Why do you ask?” Seer considers what she said. Noting that she does have good points “well you didn't choose to be turned into a vampire and their is no way back for you. It seems unfair” Celiene nods “my dear Oracle life is unfair for everyone. You need to make the most of your life and the choices you make” Seer nods and sits back again. “I didn't choose to be a shifter but if I could I would have. But….. I keep wondering if I'm still human. It feels wonderful when I'm a wolf it feels right. Like I'm free. Maybe I'm losing my old self” Seer looks down solemnly “Celiene leans foreward and puts her hands on Seers shoulder. “in wolf or human form you're still you. Just I'm still me even if I was turned. I believe that it feels better for you as a wolf because it allows you to let go” Seer looks at her confused Celiene explains “when your in your wolf form you don't have to act human and and can wrestle and play without having to worry about people judging you since you're a wolf.” Seer thinks about Cewolfs's words and smiles nodding “I imagine me being a wolf makes me feel like I belong with my pack” says Seer their eyes softening as they think about happy memories with Beth and the others “Bethany loved you before you became a shifter along with the rest of the pack” says Celiene. “they are the best thing that ever happened to me. And so are you” says Seer. “Thank you Celiene. I'm finally at peace” “Why didn't you speak to Bethany about all this?” Asks Celine giving them a curious look. “I thought about it….. But she still feels bad about hurting me. No matter how many times I tell her that it isn't her fault. I don't want to make her feel worse. She's done so much for me” “And you've done alot for her and her pack.” Says Celiene cutting in “Claire told me about the warning you gave Bethany about the poacher traps. And about the fire at the ranger station. You've brought safety and love to you're pack” Seer brushes her off but concedes she once again has a point. Seer and Celiene relax again and talk together until Seer falls asleep. Celiene thinks about calling Beth but she chooses to let her rest.
Troubling vison and a cozy bed
Chapter Summary During the night Seer has a vison while they sleep with Beth but they decide not to give her ang details about it since they don't want to worry her more
Beth and Seer stand on the dens balcony together its the very early morning Seer having been woken up by a nightmare. Through they aren't sure yet if it's a vison or if it was a regular nightmare. Beth is concerned but Seer puts on a brave face determined to not let Beth get more worried. Seer shivers in the cold while they take a deep breath hoping the chilled air of the wilderness will help them relax. “Love you can go back to sleep if you want too.” Says Seer turning to stare into Beth's beautiful eyes. But Beth shakes her head “they might be your visons but we're in this together now and forever” she says before pulling Seer closer to her. Eventually faitage gets the better of them and they walk together back inside being quiet not to wake up the others while they sneak back upstairs to the room Claire has lent them after she insisted Seer stay near her while they get used to being a shifter and Beth having refused to leave her mates side. They climb into their bed and relax on the thick matress with their warm blankets feeling cozy. “Honey will you shift for me?” Seer asks remembering back when they were ill and she let them cuddle with her wolf form to help them rest and get better. Beth nods quietly and she turns into her wolf form. Her fur is even thicker now due to the winter. Beth looks af Seer and they cant tell shes amsing if they're going to shift aswell since they know their mate well enough that they can tell what shes thinking. “I'd perfer to stay human since we don't want to break the bed” they say thinking about the time Knight and Evie did it. Secretly Seer also stays human since they don't want to risk accidently telling Beth what their vison was about since if they're both wolves they can communicate through their minds and Seer isn't used to censoring their thoughts. The love wolves snuggle up to each other and Seer puts their head against Beth's furry chest while Beth wraps her paws around Seer. They both drift off to sleep. Seer feeling warm and cozy but still troubled about what they saw.
Seer goes feral
Chapter Summary Seer starts to let their emotions go to Claire about their visons and being a Oracle
Seer wakes up in their bed still lying next to Beth, their mate still sleeps peacefully beside them. Seer quietly slips out off bed and walks out if the room. They walk down the stairs and met Claire who just came back from her early morning run. “You alright Seer? You look exhausted” Seer looks at her. “I I don't know” Claire gestures towards the couch in the dens living room and they sit down together facing each other “when you're ready” says Claire. Seer nods takes a deep breath and begins “Sometimes I hate having visons. Especially of bad things happening its only a possibility but that's the problem. I'm never sure about what to do about it. if I should say something or not. Since trying to avoid something might cause it to happen. But if I say nothing then you're not ready. I keep going in circles. Plus I'm an oracle so I could be seeing things that aren't real or could be the past or present which means that its already too late to do anything. Seer shudders and Claire keeps looking at Seer with concern not wanting to interrupt I told you about the fire at the ranger station and all that did was result in Ranger getting hurt. But if I didn't tell you it could have been worse. Seer starts to cry “Seer you're not being fair to yourself. You've done alot for us. You told us about the poacher traps that saved us from getting hurt. We're still greatful for that. “B but what about Evie. I didn't see her getting turned and now she's stuck in a fate she didn't choose and Knight aswell. Seer starts to hyperventilate. “Seer you need to calm down. You're still a new shifter this is dangerous” says Claire but Seer can't calm themselves and they start to shift. They begin to snarl at Claire like a mad beast. “Simon”Claire says quietly. While she slowly steps away from the wolf knowing that Seer isn't themselves and if they're threatening Seer might see them as a threat. Simon walks in and steps between Seer and Claire. “Seer I know you're in there” says Simon in vain. Claire “we just need to wait for them to snap out of it” says Claire. Both she and Simon continue to slowly back away as Seer continues to snarl their spit falling from their mouth onto the floor Beth wakes up and hears snarling she comes to investigate but stops dead on the stairs seeing whats happening bellow “Beth come help Seer calm down seeing you might make them snap out of it” Beth slowly walks down the stairs and looks deeply into her mates eyes and sees an animal behind them. “Beautiful? You need to calm down. Everything is going to be ok” says Beth still staring at Seers eyes. “they're terrified about their visons and the future” says Claire still weary “Beautiful remember those classes I took? They were so we could talk about your visons without freaking out. Like we did when you called me to help you sleep. We can talk about this. You need to come back to me.” Seers eyes begin to clear and they seem to snap awake. They take deep breaths and turn back into their human form. Seer realizes what happened. And begins to sob falling towards their knees “I'm sorry love. I I could have hurt you” Beth rushes foreward and Seer falls into her arms sobing like crazy while Beth tries to soothe them reassuring them it wasn't their fault and that they didn't do anything.

It is now mandatory for rental providers to send qualified technicians every 2 years to check gas appliances for safety.
We had one at our rental last week when I wasn't present (my mother and toddler were here). 12 hours later, I showed up at the front of the property to a very strong smell of gas (you could smell it across the road). The meter is right by the footpath beside the letterbox and was hissing loudly...up close the smell was stifling and the numbers were spinning fairly quickly.
Because our townhouse is set well back from the street (behind another townhouse) it was only slightly noticeable from inside.
Quickly called the gas company to send an after hours emergency technician who saw the damage that had been done to the meter (which was working properly before the safety inspector touched it). I'm no plumber but according to him a nut was double threaded which damaged the washer, leaving the pipe effectively unsealed. His opinion was that the work was done by someone who was sloppy or unqualified.
Obviously, it's scary to find out that your mother and child have been in a house for 12 hours while the gas is spewing out at the front.
My question for those of you who understand gas and plumbing, how unsafe was this?
Edit: The company wanted to do an internal investigation, but demanded of me (via the agent, who was super cooperative btw) a written report from the attending emergency technician first. One week later, this was their response (note that they wrote part of this before receiving this report). Sounds to me like they didn't intend for me, the resident and customer, to read this email. Not sure I'm happy either tone...
"Hi agent
That is quite strange that a plumber won't provide any type of report/documentation after finding an issue.
Once you do receive it, please forward it to me and we can take a look and we are happy to work out some type of reimbursement for this.
I have spoken with the plumber who attended and advised him of the situation and he was very apologetic and we have put some actions in place to ensure it doesn't happen again.
I have also sent the details to my plumbing supervisor and he has come back with the below, it's just some extra information for you as well.
After reading the above email. I am very sorry that this has happened through the actions of one of our staff. I just want to point out a few things. This is by NO MEANS a brush off of the customers concerns, but it does bring a little bit of perspective to the situation.
Natural gas is relatively speaking, a very safe fuel. It is not like in the movies where a person cuts a fuel line in a house and BOOM, This is more possible in houses that use LPG, which is a more explosive fuel. LPG is also heavier than air and will linger in the area it is released. Natural gas is lighter and will rise and disperse.
Regardless of what the "technician" from Sumo inferred, unless the pipe was completely disconnected, they will probably not really notice much of an increase in their bill. This leak would be fairly small, as there is a pipe still inside the other pipe, there is a seal present (even if split) and then there is a nut over the lot (even if cross threaded). I am not trying to minimise the customers' concerns, but I do believe that their concerns may have been inflamed by the "Technicians" careless phrasing.
Yes our technician has made a mistake, he will be spoken to regarding this matter, but it is nowhere near as drastic as the "Technician" has advised. A mistake is a mistake, and knowing our technicians, he will be mortified to hear that this has happened on one of his jobs, I know I would be.
But we need to keep it in perspective. It was a mistake, and mistakes can and do happen daily in every profession. I would be very interested to find out the name of the Sumo technician so I could contact them and relay the fear mongering that their staff are conducting. I am fairly certain they wouldn't condone this.
Again, we are very sorry that this has happened, and we will strive to make sure it doesn't happen again."

First disclaimer that I'm not discussing HOTD, even though S2 is imminent. I am strictly talking about the book material and the limited characterization we get from that.
Larys is clearly supposed to be a parallel to Varys. I don't think I need to explain why. Usually, I don't like to claim a character in F&B is a parallel to one in the main story, but the similarities are just undeniable here. So something to keep in mind.
But throughout the Dance, Larys's actions just seem...incomprehensible. He acts against the Blacks, he acts against the Greens, and he even seems to act against his own self interest. In the end, he opts for execution rather then taking the black and doesn't even mount a word in his defense, just asking that his Clubfoot be cut off (which then goes missing, so you know...that's reassuring.)
So what did he want? Did he achieve whatever he sought out to do? Is that why he just accepted death at the end? What was it he wanted to achieve? The only theory I've pondered that seems kind of likely is that this was all a setup to put Trystane Truefyre on the throne, as Larys suddenly emerges from hiding when Trystane is 'crowned' and given a 'place of honour.' But Larys continues to take actions that are bemusing even after Trystane is killed, such as conspiring with Corlys to kill Aegon II (whether he did really poison him I suppose you can debate, but I do think dialogue from both of them suggests they at least contemplated it together.)
To me, the fact that he choose execution at the end implies to me that he had achieved whatever he had set out to do, and had accepted his death. The only thing I can think of that was achieved by the end of the Dance, was the weakening of the Targaryen Family, and eventually, the loss of dragons. Of course, were either of these things his goal, they weren't fully achieved by the time of his death - the last dragons were, at this point, still alive, after all. And I may be getting the timing wrong, but I don't believe Jaehaera was killed at that point, either. So there was still a chance the Targaryens could recover from the damage from the Dance.
So anyone have any theories? Was he just kinda nuts? Did he have an allegiance? Was the Clubfoot he had even real? I generally find F&B material hard to speculate on, but something about Larys just really intrigues me and makes me think. I'm curious what others think.

I will pre-empt that I am only one celiac, and I am not a Dr or anything like that. But I wanted to share how I went from constantly sick and confused, to healthy and normal after so many years. I am hoping that by sharing this, I can help some other sufferers escape their daily pains.

1. The hardest but most necessary part for success. Stop everything. It sounds like a lot, and it is. The problem with our bodies is it does not give us a clear daily report on what is affecting us. So most of the time we encounter an issue and wonder what out of several things could have caused it. It is impossible to solve your system like that. The best thing I did was live a few months with the barest basics I could manage. Rice, water, fruit, no makeup, body or hair products. I used certified gluten free soap and shampoo, and only ate what I knew sat comfortably. I ignored all other temptations and kept my social life minimal as possible, just enjoying home and resting. I know to take time out of our lives usually means dropping the ball on other things, but doing those things is so much easier when you are healthy. It is worth finding the time to give yourself as much of a break as possible. Once I felt I was clear of any gluten symptoms and had given myself enough time to heal, I began to slowly reintroduce items one at a time, very slowly. The first year sucked the most, because it was the year I had the least on the menu, but as you try and feel safe with more items, you get a better idea of what sits well in your system and what doesn't. By taking this time to pay attention to how foods affect you, you will get a much better understanding of what can help and what can hinder you. Now when I am contaminated there is rarely a guessing game of what got me.
   
2. I got an additional allergen test and talked with the doctor about my system. I did a 3rd party allergen test that found I was sensitive to some types of fish, nuts and spices, that were adding to the internal inflammation I was struggling with. My doctor did a test that found out my digestion moves slower than normal and I have high acid content. With this information, I cut out the other foods and noticed a large decrease in my inflammation issues, as well as the medication I got to help control my stomach acid. I was also able to think about my meals and make better decisions based on what could create too much acidity and to find more alkaline foods that could help during inflammation times. This helped me better understand the signals my body would tell me, and prevent additional digestive issues from muddying the waters of my recovery and understanding.
   
3. Symptom and food journal. I recorded every bowel movement and meal, as well as what symptoms I would feel and how long they would last. I set a regular alarm on my phone and had a journalling app, so I could journal from anywhere regularly. I made sticky notes for myself to remind myself too. I would forget some days, but even recording what I could remember would help. After doing this for a month, I could see some patterns that I didn't recognize before and I was able to share it with my doctor. This helped him understand what I was going through more clearly, and he was able to do a lot more to help me with that information that before.
   
4. Research and Advocate - Doctors usually only know celiac disease in a passing sense, they read a paragraph in their university textbooks or have surface level knowledge. Many do not have active experience and can even harbor biases without realizing. This is where the symptom journal can help show what you are suffering daily and makes it harder for them to blow you off. Take the time to learn everything you can about the disease and how it can affect you now and in your older years so you can know what to look out for. My doctor mishandled my care for a long time, because I was too young to understand how to advocate for myself. As I got older, I was able to do my own research and I would send my doctor emails with what I found. This is when he admitted he was unaware of the additional science, and began to do his own research. He began to be much less resistant to helping me and understood I was a patient that was serious about their health. It is worth it to learn how to document and communicate your needs.
   
5. Therapy. Having food become a danger messes with the head, and it is understandable. I became food avoidant and fell below 90 lbs at one point, I didn't know what meals would add to the hurt, nothing made me feel better at the time. I would rather starve all day than attempt anything. I ended up becoming fearful of leaving my home even. Not everyone gets this scared, it depends how rough the symptoms are. My symptoms were always intense, so I became fearful of triggering them. Over time though, I worked with my therapist and we treated it like rungs on a ladder. I took my fears one step at a time, challenging them and proving to myself that I could be safe, that I could escape the cycle of perpetual pain. With his motivation and me holding myself responsible, I was able to become more confident and assured.
   

This process took me many years, it was not something I could accomplish in a short burst, but a steady accumulation of my efforts over time. It took a lot of focus, and I had to drop the ball on other things in my life to do it. But I am not sick everyday anymore, I don't feel that constant pain I would carry around and my mind feels clear, my heart energetic. It's been a hard road to understand and master my celiac, I look back at the beginning like a soldier reflects on war. But there is a chance to feel normal again, it takes some swimming, but it is worth the effort. I promise you that.

Some of the apparent inconsistencies in this game drive me a little nuts, given just how insanely deep and expansive the lore is.
One of my favourite sub-plots is Yura’s hunt for Eleanora. I wish we witnessed some of their duel before Yura’s defeat, but I digress.
I understand what happened as follows:

• Yura and Eleanora were partners, maybe lovers;
  
• they were also warriors, and pursued a path of strength, partaking in dragon communion;
  
• Yura witnessed Eleanora’s transformation and began to have second thoughts, while Eleanora continued to pursue power at all costs, even at the expense of her self, pledging herself to the Lord of Blood;
  
• Yura saw Eleanora’s descent into madness and, vowing to put an end to her corruption, turned to the frenzied flame for power, in the process starting the countdown until he’s consumed by Shabriri;
  
• Yura tracks down Eleanora, following her trail of blood, engaging her in a duel at the Second Church of Marika, and loses - but manages to slice off her bloody finger in the process…
  

But this is where shit gets a bit confusing. What does successfully slicing off the finger actually do?! Eleanora is still announced as a ‘bloody finger’ and engages you in a duel regardless. Things seem to proceed as they would have anyways, regardless of Yura’s sacrifice.
My best guess is that is Eleanora, absent the bloody finger and ‘corrupted blood’, fights you in a weakened state, allowing you to complete Yura’s mission. And he would be able to rest easy - if it weren’t for the tragic fact that he pledged himself to Shabriri.
But I could be wrong - how do others interpret Yura’s story?
(EDIT: some commenters pointed out that there’s nothing to imply that Yura is afflicted with frenzy when you meet him. I commented that there is cut dialogue to this effect. But on second thought, I believe I was mistaken was mistaken. I read someone’s interpretation of a particular line of cut Yura dialogue awhile back, and the post imo incorrectly surmised that Yura was already going mad with frenzy. I checked out the cut dialogue and Yura comments on a “wormlike writhing in the back of [his] brain”. Hearing it for myself, I’d interpret it as a “wyrmlike writhing” - the effect of dragon communion, not frenzy.)