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Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next
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A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!

TLDR: Nannying is a very hard job. There would probably be a lot more nannies who work as hard as one needs to do this job well if the pay matched the value and difficulty of the work.
I’ve been pretty active in this sub lately because I’ve been feeling unhappy at my job and it helps to have a community. I wrote this a while ago and have been nervous to post it but I think it’s important. I saw a post in nannyemployers asking where all of the “good” nannies have gone and this was the response I was writing until I realised the replies were to be from NP only.. I would post in the nanny employers sub if I weren’t terrified of the response. I know I’m singing to the choir here and I know saying it out loud doesn’t change much. But I am so, so angry, so imma just send it.
As a nanny who has two college degrees, practices Montessori, Reggio Emilia, and RIE, and as someone who has always loved and wanted to work with kids, there simply is not enough money in this career path to stick to it. I personally simply cannot rationalise doing the amount of physical and emotional work that is required for me to do this job as well as I want to for the typical pay, even though I absolutely love it.
For my background, experience, and approach, I am in a severely underpaid position (even when disregarding my qualifications it would still be severely underpaid.) Because of my personal and financial situation at the time of my job search, I did not have the luxury to wait for a unicorn family to offer me the salary I was looking for. I found a family that was a good fit and accepted the position even though I felt it was very much underpaid. I am now in a position where I am continuously battling wanting to work as hard as I can for these kids and this family, and realising I can’t break my back for them while being this underpaid (I mean I literally threw my back out during this job). I’m not someone who breaks a commitment easily but I guess I could move from family to family, waiting to find one who is able to financially match the value of this work, or I could stick it out and get $2/hr raises every year, but I can’t wait 10 years to finally get close to being paid what I know a proper nanny is worth. Yes there certainly are some nanny employers who properly respect this work and are able to financially meet it’s value, but in my experience they are few and far between. I have found that the overwhelming majority of nannies are severely underpaid and overworked.
Nannies are asked to have flexible schedules, work long hours, take on a laundry list of responsibilities, develop personal emotional relationships with children that aren’t theirs while keeping a professional distance, pay for and organise their own continued training, be emotionally and socially engaged with children all day long, and more. But above all, the most important aspect of nannying is managing our stress is such a way that allows us to stay in an executive state of functioning all day every single day. People deeply underestimate and undervalue the amount of hard and constant work it takes to keep oneself in an executive state of functioning day in and day out, especially in a high stress position where you are helping other people regulate their bodies all day on top of yours, AND are constantly sick and tired and being pushed and tested. I think that this ability is what makes the difference in a “good” nanny and is often the most overlooked, misunderstood, and undervalued aspect of the job responsibilities.
I want to be a good nanny, it’s my dream job to be the best nanny there is, and I used to think that I could accept being in an undervalued role because “it takes a village” and I wanted to do my part and this was my passion. But it doesn’t feel good to be undervalued financially and socially, in fact it feels really really bad, and this is why I will no longer be pursuing a career as a nanny. Even if I found my unicorn position, it wouldn’t change the fact that the overwhelming majority of my nanny peers are still underpaid and undervalued, and that doesn’t feel good. It makes me want to leave, and I think all of the other underpaid nannies should leave too. (We need a union or something, is this a thing?)
The market is oversaturated and undervalued. Not everyone needs a nanny now that quarantine is over (a full-time nanny, not babysitter or after school care). I have both worked at a preschool and as a nanny and I have found that a setting with multiple children of similar age is far better developmentally for a child than spending most of their time with a single adult and a sibling or two, even for young babies. I think a healthy mix of a daycare setting and family time at home is probably best but can be the most difficult to achieve with the current work culture. This is no one’s fault, the overworking culture is a burden of late stage capitalism that we all face. However, it is the burden of the parents to solve their work/life balance. This is a very big part of what one signs up for when becoming a parent. It is not the burden of the nanny to work more for less or the children to miss being with their parents (I’d say two doctor NP are pretty much the only ones who’d get a pass here).
It’s no one person’s fault that nannies are financially undervalued, the value of personal childcare and domestic work has a long saturated history fraught with misogyny and racism. Have you compared the average wage of a plumber (male dominated domestic work) to that of a nanny (female dominated domestic work)? And don’t tell me plumbing requires more training or is harder than nannying, I assure you they are of comparable difficulty especially considering there’s no step by step instructions on YouTube for nannying. (And if you do consider plumbing to be that much hard than nannying, what do you think gives you that perception? I mean as a parent, one should know that nannying absolutely is not just playing with kids all day, even if that’s all you ask your nanny to do. What subconscious bias could be giving you the perception that bringing up children is less difficult and of less value than screwing pipes together? Have you seen The Help? Don’t answer, just think.)
Plumbers make average $28/hr in the states, mechanics $26, for nannies it’s $20 (and that’s being generous). That’s a ¢70 on the dollar comparison. It is time we all realise that nannying is an underpaid and undervalued role and work to change that. If the wage being offered across the board better matched the value of the work, I think one would find a lot more serious nannies and a lot more current nannies taking the job more seriously.
I didn’t get it at first, why so many nannies at the park seemed so burnt out and disinterested in the kids. Oh boy do I get it now. I want nothing more than to do my best in this role, but in the past few months after nearly being stiffed by NP, not receiving a bonus from them when I really thought I would, and overall realising I am being taken advantage of and am a human mine to them, I have realised that I can no longer put my all into this job for my own health and sanity. Being properly compensated is the primary motivating aspect of all work especially in the society we are a part of. After loosing my sense of respect from NP, I’ve lost most of the non-financial motivation I started out with and am left with what little motivation my petite pay check gives me, and the kids can tell.
Since my fallout with NP, I have pulled back emotionally from the kids. I’m not mean and I am still doing every responsibility in my contract to the letter (and then some still), but I am no longer as emotionally available to them as I was. I am shorter and more curt with them, I don’t take as much time with them to sit and talk about every feeling they have, and I’m not working as hard to help them break the bad habits NP give them that NP specifically ask me to break (one example - NP want NK to walk everywhere with me but then always use the stroller with NP and every time we go out it’s a fight to use the stroller or not. Guess who’s been using the stroller far more often lately). Anyway, the past week my NK 3f has been quietly crying before her nap and I’m sure it’s because she’s felt me pull away from her. It’s breaking my heart and I’ve been trying to give her extra cuddles, but I have to protect myself first now. This is a job and these aren’t my kids and I can no longer rationalise putting them first emotionally especially considering I am burnt TF out, torn down, and left feeling used up and tossed aside without any recognition or proper thanks for NP.
I don’t know what the perfect number is, the number I would say many NP would probably think is too high, and maybe they’re not looking for a nanny who works as hard as I and others do. But I can tell you that $17/hr before taxes in a VHCOL area does not even come CLOSE. I think we can all easily recognise that the financial value of this job needs to better match the value of the work, in general and across the board. We’re talking about the people caring for and raising the future generations here, I mean how is this not the most coveted role in our society?
This is my Roman Empire and I will die on this hill every. single. time.

Hi I just came across a novel, chosen by the moon novel by izabella W. Its on pay by chapter websites, I've opened and read a few chapters but I can't seem to find any free version or chapter version anywhere. Please help. If anyone has read it I'm willing to take spoilers. Here's the advert I found below of it on Facebook.
Lycanthrope species is a disgusting race. And I, Delan Riley, am nothing more than a human scum in their eyes never expected those species would turn my world upside down. Since when the lycans managed to penetrate our town, like in the early 1900's we have a hierarchy, upper class = the lycans, middle class = mated humans, and lower class = the normal humans, who were basically considered scum. I endured their torment day after day, vowing to run away from them one day, until that day came and everything changed.
Dylan POV "Humans," I scowled at the principal's words from tannoy. "The Alpha twins will be celebrating their birthday tomorrow, as such, festivities are in order." Oh great, the Alphas twin children. Adrian and Arya are the worst lycans alive. I swear just because they are the alphas kids they literally get away with everything. If their birthday is tomorrow, then the wolves are going to be worse than ever. "All students will be present to greet them, two lines will be made, with humans on the left and the lycanthrope on the right. Any mated human will be at the front of the line for their year, you will all also be in order of your school year. That is all." Chat broke out the minute the tannoy was finished. "We haven't had a school gathering since the alpha king visited three years ago, before his sons coronation." Nick was right, the last time we all gathered like that was for the king and queens visit, when he decided to let the world know that he was to renounce his title to his only child, son Josh. "That sick bestard, he wants to make sure everyone is there so those idiot twins can find their mates." Yes I was mad, my fists connected with the table in front of me once more as I thought about how disgusting the situation was. You see the twins will be turning 17, so it's very possible someone in our school could be their mate, finding a mate is sacred to a wolf, the minute they say that one word your fate is sealed. They will turn your mind, morph you into being a lover of their kind, and then you'll give in.

That won't happen to me, I'm growing old to see the world as it once was, and I'm going to choose who I'll be with. No one will take that dream away from me.

Once dinner was finished, I just wanted to sleep. I'd had a very long tiring day, I quickly sat down on a small stool my mother kept in the storage closet and removed my shirt while my brother Freddy sat at the table to do his simple homework. It wasn't long before my mother came in with a large bowl of warm salt water and some cotton, this was going to sting I just knew it. She was here to help me with the wounds caused by wolves yesterday. She slowly began to unwrap the bandage from around my torso and slowed down drastically when it came to the final layer, I felt it peel off every wound and my fists clenched in pain. "Jesus!" I heard my mom exclaim once the dressing was completely removed. The air on my back was nice though and I sighed as my arm covered my once again exposed brests. "This is more than 15!" I began to hear sniffles coming from her and sighed turning round to look at her face, only to notice tears streaming down it. "Mom I'm fine, it's alright." She shook her head. "It's not alright, I'm your mother I shouldn't let these things happen. I'm so sorry. Your father would have..." here she goes again. Every single time something happened she'd always bring up dad, it really annoyed me because no matter how much we all wish he was here, he just isn't. My father was kiled by THEIR kind, almost 5 years ago when they actually managed to take over. When the lycans managed to penetrate our town my father rose up with some people from the neighborhood, to defend our livelihood, it was futile to say the least. We lost many people and I watched as my dad was ripped apart by two fully shifted wolves, I ended up shoting him to stop his suffering before they dragged me to the courtyard, i was the person to receive the first lashing of the town when I was 12! The wolves have been pretty strict with me since that day. "Stop being stvpid!" Was I harsh? Definitely! Did she need to hear it again, absolutely. "Dad is dead, we don't know what he'd do because he never knew this life. He never knew this world." I know what he'd have done, most likely attacked the guy who held the whip and got himself kiled in the process. "The best thing you can do for me, is stop crying and help me, next time don't insist on helping if you can't handle it." She began to wash my open wounds with the warm salt water causing loud winces to leave me, I knew it was necessary to prevent infection, but my god it hurt like a betch. "Some of these are really deep Dylan!" She sniffed again and my eyes rolled in my head. "I told you, I'm fine, just wrap me back up so I can get to bed." My mom was obviously more impacted by my injuries than I was, I suppose that always the case though. When it's happening to you, you've just got to get through it but when it's happening to someone you love, you just want to take their pain away. She quickly placed a fresh bandage around my waist and chest and wrapped it tightly for compression. The bowl of water that was used was now red in color, I guess from the blood my back was dripping with. "Can you keep your head down please? At least just this week. You can't take any more lashings." I simply nodded before standing up away from the stool, I walked over to Freddie and ruffled his hair in affection. "Good night squirt." He giggled and fixed his hair slightly. "Night Dilly." I smiled walking upstairs to my little bedroom, as soon as I was inside i shut the door and flopped down on to my bed on my stomach and I took a minute to cry to myself at the pain in my back, what my mom did was important but it hurt, not that I'd ever tell her. My hand covered my mouth quickly to muffle any noise I might be making. I couldn't tell anyone, I had to be strong because more and more people were crumpling these days, and my mom would break if she knew how much I was suffering. Sleep followed me shortly after, she was right though about me needing to keep my head down for the time being, I could not take another lashing! After a long night and an even longer morning, we were all finally stood in the hallway at school waiting for the twins to arrive. "Mine!" Everyone that was stood in the hallway tensed up, as we were seniors, me and Nick were stood towards the very back of the human line. All the mated people were situated directly opposite their wolf mates in their years. We stayed silent and still as Arya walked down the hall and stopped directly in front of Nick. His eyes widened in fear, unsure of wether to look up or keep his head lowered. "Look me in the eye, mate." He glanced at me slightly as if asking what he should do. "I said, look me in the eye." He slowly moved his eye line up to look at her face. I took a glance myself to see her eyes pitch black with lust. "I... can't... I mean... erm." Before he was able to mutter anything else, two wolves from opposite, grabbed him out of the line and dragged him behind Arya. "Hey!" My head shot up before I could stop myself. My mouth also forgot its place as I jumped out of line. Everyone's head shot to me as my eyes widened in realization at what I'd done. Adrian, the other twin, walked up to me before punching me right in the stomach, I doubled over instantly. Feeling the sting in my slightly healed back. "I know you... You were publicly flogged only two days ago." God I hate this guy. "I also have it on good authority, that you openly spoke out against our rules and regulations in yesterday's class." My head shot down the line slightly to see Erin, looking a little frightened, her mate, the beta to be was looking at her, nodding his head in reassurance. "You traitor, you grassed on your own kind?" I yelled at her before feeling a fist connect with my cheek. My head whipped to the side from the force, while my class members gasped. I'm so done with this treatment, right then, I wasn't in charge of my actions. My fists curled up and my stance became a lot more defensive. My head snapped up to the alpha to be, and I looked him in the eye. "You don't know the meaning of the word disrespect." I suddenly hurled my fist towards his head, which he easily dodged, but my foot came up and kicked him instead. He stumbled backwards from the force with wide eyes. "You... you Actually hit me!" He didn't even sound annoyed, more shocked. Everyone in the hallway was watching, waiting for the alpha to do something but instead he simply stood up straight, regaining his composure. "I think everyone should get back to class." He began to walk away, following his sister when I called him back. "What about Nick?!" "Simple, He's my sisters mate. He now belongs to her." Argh, he's not an object. "He's not her property." A chuckle left his mouth, before turning his back to me again. "All humans are property." A short while later everyone made it to science class, our teacher Mrs Mathews is mated to the lycans pack doctor, she also now has a four and two year old with him. She was one of the first humans to be cohered into a false relationship. "What were you thinking young lady?" I rolled my head at her before looking at the empty seat next to mine. Nick was with that stvpid wolf girl right now. Being changed, I'm so angry it's ridiculous. "I was thinking, this guy is being a prick. Did you hear him? 'All humans are property.' It's bull shet." I looked up and the whole class looked at me like I had three heads. Talking shet about wolves is one thing, but talking about an alpha is punishable by death, attacking an alpha is an even worse offense. There was then a knock at the door and in walked Erin and her band of mated bestards. "Sorry we're late Mrs." "Erin, how are things between you and bata Monroe?" She blushed, the traitor actually blushed at the mention of his name. "He spoke to me last night about trying for a baby. We need a good strong boy to take over as beta." I scoffed looking at her as she took her seat. "You guys are actually pathetic, why can't it be a girl? Those mutts are basically Neanderthals" I voiced my opinion and saw all the shocked faces around me. Calling the lycans mutts, is the same as them calling us scum. After lesson had ended the entire school was called into the hall for assembly. This is where any human who has been found to have broken the rules were punished, usually 10 lashings were goven out or something similar. "Welcome to the school assembly, congratulations to the alpha twins for finding both your mates. Now on to the business at hand, as the 5 year anniversary of the new world is coming up, we have been informed that the alpha king will be visiting our district next week, this is very exciting news. We want you all to look your absolute best, she wolves and mated females will wear exemplary dresses made by seamstress. Male wolves and mated men will wear tailored suits. Anyone who doesn't comply will be reprimanded." The Alpha King?! No one has met him yet, he took over the throne three years ago when he turned 18. He really didn't make any appearances though, great, this month is going to be a nightmare. "As for the humans, you will be given a new uniform to wear for the visit, these are to be neatly ironed and worn to the highest standard. As for the following humans, based on your attitude this past week, you will be coming to the front and facing punishment. Tony summerset?!" Tony's head shot up as he looked around, he was in the year below but he shared my views when it came to the lycans. He slowly walked up to the front of assembly, almost instantly his top was t0rn in two and he received 10 lashings. A girl named Kara was next and she too received 10 lashings. A few more people went up slowly accepting their fate then suddenly my name was called. "Dylan Riley." Inside I was terrified but I simply shrugged my shoulders, I guess I did kind of expect this. Although I'm not sure if my back can take any more damage. "You attacked an alpha, correct!" His eyes bored into mine as I bowed my head submitting to his authority. "Technically, no." Everyone in the school gym looked on in fear, as my head moved to the front row of the wolf side. Adrian sat, with a werewolf girl in the year below, her name was Jana, I guess he found his mate. Nick and Arya were no where to be seen though. Adrian gave me a shrug as if to say he didn't tell, before smirking at my comment. "He hasn't officially taken the alpha title yet, so he's just..." i looked at the principle and noticed his eyes black and his claws out, he was in what lycans call a half shift, triggered when the subject has become angered. He turned to two security wolves and gave them a nod, Almost immediately i was forced onto my knees, my arm was slammed on a table and held in place by one wolf, while my body was held in place by the other. "Ok, I don't think this is needed, I have alpha blood, a stvpid human girl can't hurt me." My head snapped to Adrian who had stood up in front of the school to stop what was happening. "Nevertheless, humans need to know their place." With that the pressure on my arm increased as our principals hand pulled my sleeve up before a long claw punctured my skin. The searing pain shoting from the fresh wound had my eyes scrunched and my fist clenched, I bit the inside of my cheek hard instantly tasting blood, however no sound left my mouth. He continued to write, using my skin as a canvas and his claws as a marker, it went on forever, my vision blurred slightly at one point as I turned my head away. After minutes of torture, he was done and the pressure on my arm eased, instantly I snatched my arm away, hissing through my teeth at the pain. I was about to scurry off stage, when I was roughly grabbed yet again, my arm being held in the air by the principal while my feet were inches off the floor, blood dripped from the wound and the pattern he had made was on show for everyone to see. Loads of people gasped, even the wolves looked slightly horrified at what had happened. "This is what happens when a human decides to speak out. I can promise, anyone who so much as says one word about our way of life, will have the same punishment." My arm was starting to seriously ache from being held in the air for so long, and the lack of blood flow to my suspended arm was causing me pins and needles, still I refused to make a sound. I held the tears back and I bit my cheek harder causing more blood to fill my mouth. "That's enough Bradley!" Adrian growled, he was still stood up and looking at the scene in front of him. His eyes hard as he stared at the principal a low warning growl erupted from his chest which had the head teacher gulping, he quickly let go of my arm causing me to crash to the floor. A small cry left my mouth as I hit the hard floor. Immediately I scrambled away, my foot just missed the high step leading to the stage and I fell, waiting for the impact of the ground, but it never came. Two strong arms wrapped around me catching my weak body causing me to look up, my eyes widened as I noticed Adrian had caught my falling form. "This isn't part of the human punishment program!" Adrian growled causing me to tense in his grip, I pushed him away from me before fixing my uniform top. The room was deadly silent, taking in the scene in front of them, while I stole a glance at my forearm. Carved into my skin by his devastating claws were two words, words that would most definitely scar my body for life. 'Human scum' "Lessons must be learned, she received lashing merely two days ago, and clearly it had no effect on her." Another growl left Adrian's chest as he stepped on to the stage, I wasn't bothered though, you would think I'd be ashamed but I simply smiled slightly. I fixed my sleeve a little so it wouldn't rub on the fresh wound before speaking. "It doesn't matter," the whole room looked at me shocked by my attitude. "I would rather be labeled human scum, than have any resemblance to your kind. I'm proud of what I am, how many of you can say that?" After my amazing little speech, I walked right down the middle between the humans and lycans and out the door. No more compliance, I'm going to get away with as much as I can without getting into too much bother. There will come a day when the lycans power will fizzle out. When it does I'll be ready, I'll be waiting for the day we take our world back. As for the best part about my plan...

No one can stop me.

"Ouch, not so hard." I seethed as the school nurse cleaned my new wound with antiseptic. "If you had of just kept your mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened." I turned to my right looking out the window at the few clouds that were floating in the blue sky. "Like I said, I'm proud to be human, and now everyone knows what I am." I clenched my fist together as the nurse began wrapping a bandage around my forearm. It had been a good few hours since the incident in the hall, and I had been forced to come to the nurces office after I had tried to clean my wound by splashing it with water from the tap, it also refused to stop bleeding. "You are impossible. Can you please just try and stay out of trouble? For one day, that's all I ask." Our school nurse is a wolf, she's one of them. However she hates the way they treat us mere humans, she thinks we should all just live in peace with equal rights. Like that would ever happen. "All I've done is stay out of trouble, but you are just going to humiliate me anyway, so what's the actual point?" "The pack were discussing a public execution, Dylan. You need to walk on egg shells from now on, not just for you but for your family as well." No ones been publicly executed in over 4 months, I'm flattered they're considering it. They only execute people who they believe are the biggest problems to society. "Well then... I'm flattered." I chuckled, before looking at the patch job. 'Huh, not too shabby.' I quickly stood up from the human nursing station and pulled the sleeve of my shirt down covering the evidence of ever being hurt. "This is serious!" I just gave her a blank look before leaving the room. On the way out I heard her call back to me. "Please just think about it." I gave a clipped nod as I walked away wondering how I'm going to tell my mom about this. Later in the evening... "Dilly why you say that?" Freddie looked up at me with a mouth full of bread. "Don't speak with your mouthful!" My mom scolded him as a bashful blush made its way to his cheeks. "Sowwy mommy." His reply was muffled as he swallowed the last chunk of food. "I said it Freddie, because it's the truth. The wolf race are a pathetic excuse for..." my mom cut me off with an extremely stern look. "Dylan! They have ears everywhere, one more word out of you and it's your room." I scowled, my hatred for the Lycan kind growing stronger as each day passes. "What more can they do to me, lash me? Beat me? Brand me? They've ran out of options." I stated slamming my hands down, then severely regretting it as sharp pain shot though my wound. "What was that?" My head shot to regard my mothers worried expression. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were dull and judging as she looked at me. "Nothing, it was nothing." I quickly took my plate in my hand and began to walk to the kitchen. "I'm not really hungry, and I have homework to do!" My mom caught hold of my forearm causing me to drop my plate suddenly, I watched it slowly fall before shattering on the floor. I retracted my arm quickly and turned to Freddie. "Stay there and don't move until it's cleaned up ok sport?" He just nodded with wide eyes, I turned back to my mom and noticed her curious stare on my arm. Her grip shifted to the other side as she turned it around before pulling my sleeve up. The bandage was showing and a bit of blood was seeping though after the wound had been disturbed. "What the hel happened?" My moms eyes widened as she began to fumble with the bandage. Before she could unravel any of it I snatched my arm away. "I had an accident at school. No big." I began to gather the large pieces of the broken plate up ready to put them in the bin. "What did you do Dylan?" She looked at me with pure worry and only then did I realize what the wound must look like to someone who didn't know. "For gods sake! I didn't do it to myself! I got publicly punished at the assembly alright? It's no big deal." Her face dropped instantly and she stepped towards me, causing me to step backwards. "Mom, I'm ok. So back off will you." "What did you do? I've never known them to cut someone's arm as a punishment." Her shock and accusation was evident in her voice and I sighed heavily. "I spoke against the alphas son." I may have hit him too, but I wasn't going to divulge that part to her. "It's not one big cut, mom, it's a brand, 'human scum' carved onto my arm." "They've branded you now too?!" My eyes rolled at her hurt tone as I went to get the dustpan and brush. "You're so much like your father." A sigh left her mouth as she spoke, running a hand through her hair, while I quickly swept up the little pieces of the broken plate. "You've had a new uniform delivered. It's laid out on your bed. Dylan, Please just try and stay respectful in the future, I don't want my daughter to be completely mutilated. Although you're not far off." "Gee, Thanks." I then walked over to my little brother Freddy before blowing a kiss into his neck and hearing him giggle. "So sport, how's school going?" "It's ok." He shrugged before going back to coloring a dinosaur picture in. "Well that's good, stay out of trouble, ok little man?" Heading upstairs and into my room, my thoughts wandered to the permanent graffiti scar very slowly healing on my arm. Disgusting beasts. Think they own the world because they're faster, stronger and can shift. Pah. If you ask me they are not all that.

The second I walked into my room my mouth dropped open. On my bed was some grey pants laid out neatly, which wasn't the surprising part, no, what shocked me was the grey high neck no sleeved button down shirt, every single set of uniform had sleeves except this one. They've done this on purpose those, mutts. They want the world to see my arm and know what a disgusting creature I am. They want the world to know that I, Dylan Riley, am nothing more than 'human scum'.

During the last week, I've been horrible, in class I've been loud in voicing my views, I've insulted at least everyone to some degree, I didn't care about the consequences, and I certainly didn't think about them. I haven't seen Nick at all since he was claimed, and to make matters worse today was the royal visit. Oh yes, werewolves and mated humans alike were spending every waking minute preparing themselves to meet his royal majesty, king of the wolves. Unclaimed Humans however would rather stick pins in their eyes. "Dylan, get down now... you're going to be late." She was right, I was dawdling this morning, I really couldn't be bothered today, I gave myself one last look in the small mirror and sighed when my eyes met my newly uncovered brand. It had bad bruising around the letters, and was still extremely tender to touch, it was definitely healing now though. I made my way down the stairs and came face to face with my mother who was seeing to Freddie, she was helping my brother get his coat on when she turned to me. "You ready sport?" Freddie nodded his little head at me and smiled while I quickly slid my shoes on. "Just Remember, the alpha is bad enough, Dylan, please, please don't do anything to anger the king." My mother stopped us from walking out the door to tell me something she had been telling me continuously for the last couple of days, it was almost as if the entire human population of our district was expecting me to do something stvpid. "Try and have a good day." I rolled my eyes but nodded, even I know not to push the king, he could kil me in the hallway like it was nothing. In fact I plan on staying out of his way for the entirety of the day. "We will see you tonight mom." I stated before me and my brother began our walk to school, his little hand clutched my own tightly as we went. Usually Nick would be with us, as he lives next door, well he used to, now he's residing in the main pack house. I quickly dropped Freddie off at his school and watched him get the wolfsbane neutralizer before walking into him building giving me a small wave before he went in. With my new scar on complete show, and my figure being complimented by the skin tight shirt I was wearing, I sauntered down the street to school, I gave my name and year in and took the wolf's bane neutralizer injection with no problems at all. It was finally getting into school that the problem occurred. Walking through the halls I was met by many looks, some of pity some of disgust. You see every single non mated human in the school was wearing a long sleeved version of the uniform I was given. All the Wolves and mated couples were scattered around in fancy floor length dresses or tailored suits. As I turned the corner I noticed a couple, now this couple happened to catch my eye the most out of all of them because it consisted of Arya and Nick, eating each other's faces off. "What the hel!" Nicks head shot to me as his eyes widened. He too was dressed in a tailored suit, a navy blue tie hung on his neck to match Aryas dress. Why was this happening all the time? It's always my friends that get completely brain washed. I shook my head in disbelief before turning my back on him. I heard his fast footsteps behind me as I rounded the corner. "Dylan?!" He ran right in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, making me drop my bag off my shoulder and almost causing me to bump into him. "Let me just explain..." "Has she marked you?" I mean you could almost see it in his eyes, she had marked him, and knowing the way life goes he's probably even mated with her. "Actually... Don't even answer that." I aggressively picked my bag up off of the floor and stormed off down the hall. "Dylan, just listen to me, Erin was right, it's so hard to resist your soulmate, and Arya is actually ok once you get to know her." I just kept walking, he caught up to me walking beside me but it didn't matter, I completely ignored everything and everyone. 'I'm so not in the mood today' getting into class was good though, I said hello to Mr Foley and took my usual seat. Nick sighed then took his bag off ready to sit next to me, but I snapped before he had the chance. "Traitors and mated idiots sit on that side of the room." I didn't look him in the eye as I pointed to a seat right at the front of the classroom on the opposite side. His eyes widened as he turned his attention back to me. "You can't be serious Dylan." I gave him a blank look before grabbing my book out of my backpack, I placed it on the desk then began to write the date on the top line. "I've sat in this seat for as long as I can remember." I ignored him, his voice sounded sad and shocked. "Dylan? Wait! What is that?!" Before I could react Nick had grabbed hold of my branded arm and turned it to see the letters. "Oh my God! What happened?" I snatched my arm away from him and shrugged as I continued to write in my book before grabbing my water bottle out of my bag. "The principal happened, it was my punishment for speaking out against Adrian and Arya. I wear it with pride." He just held a complete look of disbelief. "You spoke out against them?" I shrugged, what did he think I'd do. "It's no secret that I despise this stvpid new world and the mutts that control it. You were my friend, I wasn't going to let them just take you without saying something, although that is exactly what you seem to have done. Enjoy the view from your new seat!" "Don't be like that, Dylan, I'm your best friend, I'm sorry about your arm, but..." my eyes rolled inside my head at my friends words. "Anything with the word 'but' in, isn't an apology, it's a rationalization." I took a drink of water from my bottle and kept my eyes facing forward, ignoring his every attempt to try and talk to me. "Dylan?.. Dylan?... Do you know what? Erin is right, if you push us all away you won't have any friends left." He huffed before walking over to the empty seat and sitting down, I could feel him glancing up at me every now and again but I didn't respond. "Good morning class, please settle down." He looked at me then at Nick and frowned, we've never sat apart, we were friends before the new world even began. I just shook my head telling him to forget it. "So... as you know the king will be arriving in a short while, but until then lessons will go on as normal." Its funny seeing teachers in the same uniform your wearing, mr Foley and his wife are the coolest. Human teachers and doctors only have slightly more respect than we do. Because of Mr Foley's status him and his wife have better access to food and drink, Mrs Foley is cool, sometimes she even makes sure mr Foley brings some in for me. Ya know, coz I'm their favorite student. It's not in a weird way, it's just they were friends of the family before the new wold took effect. Mr Foley and my dad were buddies from high school, so it goes without sayin really. "All the mated humans will be at the front of each years line again, after that you will all be placed in status, Nick, as your mated to Alpha Arya, you'll be at the front of your line. Dylan as you have been branded..." his voice trailed off as he looked at me. "Yeah yeah, I'll be at the back of the line behind everyone. I get it." I huffed, moving my sight towards the window once more. "I am sorry." I turned to face Mr Foley again, he looked genuinely upset and that look of pity wasn't something I wanted to see. I gave him a clipped nod then turned away again. "Anyway, on to the subject matter, 'Of Mice and Men, page 64, Nick why don't you start us off with the reading."

"Of course sir." Nick began reading the book but I switched off, today is going to be a long day. After almost an hour and a half of reading comprehension, the bell chimed signaling lunch. I shot up and out of the classroom before anyone could say anything. Today, I was avoiding drama like the plague.

I wandered the corridors straight to the lunch hall. All the people I would normally hang out with we're all mated so I grabbed my lunch quickly, and sat down at the end of the human table. Let me lay the lunch hall out for you. On one side of the room you have two long rows of tables, with simple benches that make it look like prison, on the other side of the room you have multiple round tables with fancy chairs. Yup you get it. The humans sit at the prison tables and the wolves and traitors sit on the fancy tables, they get fancy food, fancy drink and most importantly they get pudding. what I would give to have some pudding. "Dylan can we just talk?" Nick quickly took the spot next to me as he set his lunch tray down. I looked at his food which had been placed on a ceramic, circular white plate. God that looked good. I sighed knowing he was going to talk anyway. "Fine, you have two minutes." I used my fork to take a bit of pasta off his plate and shoved it into my mouth. God that was good. "After I left school, I was taken to the pack house with Arya, and I really got to know her. It took a few days for me to finally accept being with her, but ever since life has been ok, and the sax... well that's a whole other story." Eww, I didn't need that mental image in my head. "I'm glad your happy." I stated before deciding I had no appetite. His face held shock before he sighed in relief. "That means a lot Dylan, I mean you know that your opinion matters to me." I cut him off before he could say anything else. "I said I was glad your happy. I didn't say I approved of what you've done. You've basically turned into one of THEM, I can't ever forgive you for that." He looked hurt, but I couldn't care less about his feelings. He placed his hand gently on my arm and went to open his mouth when a growl sounded out. All heads whipped to where it came from, Arya was stood holding a glass of soda and a plate, she was looking right at me and Nick and I would totally be dead if looks could kil. Nick quickly retracted his hand, his whole face fell and you could see sorrow flood his irises. "You sit with me now, get away from that, that... scum!" Wow, Nick was such a lucky guy. NOT. "You heard her. Get away from me, go sit with your new friends. I'm happy for you, and I understand where your coming from, but don't come up to me again and pretend you didn't betray your own kind. Don't pretend you didn't betray me." I shoved a little bit of food into my mouth before standing up and walking out of the cafeteria, leaving my tray on the table. I was walking through the hallway to the classroom, you see I decided to spend lunch with Mr Foley in his room, when I happened to hear voices in the corridor. "Is it wise for her to actually be present when the king arrives? Surely she could be placed in the dungeons, it might actually teach her some respect?" My principal was speaking to the alpha of our district, huh, if I stayed and listened do you think they'd notice, maybe they could smell me?! "Everyone is to be present, if the Riley girl does one thing out of line she will be dealt with severely, child or not. That girl has been a blight to the district since day one, she's dangerous, if she puts one hair out of place I will personally break her into submission." Oh shet, they were talking about me specifically, and they mentioned the dungeon, that's not been used in months. Normally I would have listened in more but something about the entire situation didn't sit right with me, all of a sudden, I was on edge, and simply wasn't interested in the slightest in hearing how my misery was to be enhanced. I backed up slightly before turning around and bumping head first into one of the hottest man I had ever seen. I lost my balance immediately and fell straight on to the floor letting out a small grumble in the process. His eyebrows knitted together quickly and his breath hitched in his throat as he looked upon my fallen state and gasped. "Mate!" He whispered, his eyes fixated on mine. Now, I had seen and heard that many times to know what that means, I gasped before taking a step back. 'No, no, no, no, no. This can not be happening.' He growled slightly before stepping towards me. Oh Shet!

Jessie loved photography. When her high school formed a new photography club, she eagerly joined. One day, Mr. Thompson, the club advisor, announced a special project: documenting the town’s history. Jessie was assigned the old, abandoned mansion at the edge of town.
Excited, she grabbed her camera and headed out after school. The mansion, with its crumbling facade and air of mystery, had always fascinated her. As she approached, she felt watched. Shaking off the eerie feeling, she pushed open the creaky gate and stepped into the overgrown garden.
Inside, the mansion was a photographer's dream. Dust motes floated in beams of sunlight filtering through broken windows. Jessie snapped picture after picture, moving from room to room. In an upstairs bedroom, she found an old, dusty mirror. It was cracked but still reflected the room behind her. As she raised her camera, she froze. In the reflection, she saw a figure standing behind her. She spun around, but the room was empty.
Heart pounding, Jessie convinced herself it was her imagination. She continued taking pictures but felt uneasy. As she finished, she decided to take one last photo of the grand staircase. Focusing her camera, she saw it again—the figure, now at the top of the stairs, staring down at her. This time, it was a young girl in an old-fashioned dress, eyes hollow and dark. Jessie snapped the photo, and the flash seemed to make the girl vanish.
She bolted from the mansion, not stopping until she was safely home. That night, she developed the photos in her darkroom. The images were stunning, capturing the mansion's haunting beauty. But in every photo, the same girl stood in the background, watching her.
Terrified, Jessie brought the photos to Mr. Thompson the next day. He examined them, his brow furrowing. "These are incredible, Jessie. But the girl... she looks familiar."
He pulled out an old yearbook. "This is Emily Sinclair. She lived in that mansion and disappeared over fifty years ago. They never found her."
Jessie's blood ran cold. "So, what does that mean? Is she... a ghost?"
Mr. Thompson shook his head. "I don't know. But there's something you should see." He led her to a locked cabinet and pulled out old, yellowed photos. "These were taken by students in the photography club over the years. Look closely."
Jessie flipped through the photos, her heart sinking. In each one, Emily Sinclair was in the background, always watching. "Why didn't anyone say anything?"
"They did," Mr. Thompson replied grimly. "But no one believed them. Everyone thought it was a trick of the light."
As Jessie stared at the photos, she felt a chill run down her spine. She looked up at Mr. Thompson, but he was gone. The room was empty, except for her and the photos.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and the lights flickered out. Jessie felt a cold hand on her shoulder and turned to see Emily Sinclair, her hollow eyes filled with sadness and rage.
"You've seen me," Emily whispered. "Now you belong to the house, just like all the others."
Jessie screamed, but no sound came out. The darkness closed in around her, and she felt herself being pulled away, her camera slipping from her grasp. The last thing she saw was Emily's ghostly face, inches from her own, before everything went black.
When the lights came back on, the room was empty. The photos lay scattered on the floor, and Jessie's camera was gone. She was never seen again, just another victim of the mansion's dark history, forever captured in its haunting photographs.

I've been using both of these for a few weeks now, so here are some further thoughts.

Quality of Coffee

The Flair Pro 2 wins hands down. There really is no competition. The Flair produces much nicer coffee. You also get more of it. By comparison the Coffeejack produces comparatively "weak" or watery coffee, unless you restrict to very short, low volume shots. But then you've got to pull a second shot just to have something substantial to drink.
It doesn't seem like the Flair Pro 2 takes that much more coffee by weight than the Coffeejack. Sure it takes a bit more of a dose, but not by that much. Close inspection of the Coffeejack puck after pulling a shot suggests to me that water isn't filtering through the puck evenly at the top. It looks as if most of the flow is going down and around the sides of the puck rather than through it. This would explain why shots are weaker than I would expect. I'm not sure why this is the case. I suspect the basket design is flawed somehow and so it's easier for water to flow around the edges of the basket than through the puck. Strange.
The Coffeejack also "cheats" by using one of these valves at the bottom of the "portafilter" to restrict flow and increase pressure. Some people suggest removing this value. I probably agree. If you leave the valve in place it's very easy to end up in a situation where you can't get any flow at all, because the overpressure valve in the main body of the unit releases at a lower pressure than the pressure required to obtain flow through the portafilter.
To understand why this is the case, consider that the valve in the bottom of the portafilter requires X amount of pressure for coffee to flow through it. The puck itself requires Y amount of pressure. So if X + Y < Z, where Z is the pressure threshold of the pressure release valve, then you won't get any flow. (Disassemble your unit to find the black overpressure valve. It's hidden beneath the silver mesh screen at the bottom of the glass water container.)
Some versions of Flairs also have this restriction valve feature. I don't think units like this make very good coffee. Your grind size should be what creates pressure. It's easy to buy coffee with the right grind size, if you don't have a grinder. People can become excessively obsessive about grind size. It doesn't matter that much, as long as the grind is fine enough to create some pressure when pulling a shot, it's ok. A very large grind obviously will not work. The same is true for a grind which is extremely fine, because it will restrict the flow completely. But you can't buy coffee with a grind that fine anyway.

Burning your hands

It's easy to burn yourself with the Coffeejack. A flaw I did not fully realize until I started using it and wanted to pull a second shot after pulling a first.

Cleaning

It's easier to clean the Flair Pro 2. Cleaning the Coffeejack is a painful process, as is waiting for it to dry. The Flair Pro 2 dries quickly. You can also towel dry it. Good luck doing that with the Coffeejack.
The Coffeejack will remain wet internally for weeks. There's no way to dry it out inside without disassembling it.

Easy of use

Pulling a shot with the Flair takes some effort. You're going to have to use some arm strength to pull a shot with it. The Coffeejack is comparatively a low effort exercise, only requiring you to pump a small piston with relatively little effort. However this doesn't actually mean it's a better design, here's why:
The problem with the Coffeejack is it's extremely hard to apply enough pressure without releasing the over-pressure valve. This makes it frustrating to use, and in one of my previous posts I explained why doing this too many times might break it completely resulting in your having to re-assemble it to fix it.

Summary

In essentially all possible ways, the Flair is a better product. Just spend the extra and get the Flair.

Is it just me or are most, if not all, of the Apps you see when in the Brainstorm section of the Pi Browser just look really unprofessional, unpolished, & all around lazy? Most, for example, can't even be bothered to use a text-to-speech that doesn't sound like a total fob. Many of them don't even bother to have correct grammar or spelling for their descriptions or YouTube videos narrations. Would it kill them to have someone fluent in English double-check their work? I'm bilingual in English & Mandarin, and it's just so obvious when they do a direct translation of certain Chinese phrases and idioms. It's honestly just so cringe. How are these devs not embarrassed uploading what would be considered basic grade school errors? While there are some that do have a decent English translation, they end up ruining it by using a text-to-speech program with a thick-ass accent. Like come on bro, if you already got the text down, all you had to do was use a half decent (and free) text-to-speech program. Do these devs not consider how bad their YouTube vids sound in English? I get if the app is targeted toward a Chinese demographic, which if that's the case, why not just do the whole video narration in Chinese? Idk, I just feel like if you're going to do something, you ought to do it right. Everything just reeks of half-assedness. It makes me sad and doubtful of the overall future success of Pi in general... 😮‍💨
P.S. I apologize for the rant. But if anyone can help me understand what's going through the minds of these devs then maybe I can empathize with them more.

Previous Interlewd XLI Next First
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---Sample---
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---Fnurfar’s perspective---
---2710 Terran Calenda3 years BF---
All six of my paws desperately scramble against the slick pavement of the Prosperity back alley as I flee for my life!
Pursuing me… is a monster!
His species aren’t meant to be sprinters!
They said if it came to a chase, I just needed to quickly get out of his line of sight and keep going and he’d not be able to keep up!
I skid around a corner and steal a glance behind me, seeing two furious eyes moving towards me so fast that they seem to leave streaks of emerald green behind them as afterimages!
The Fury is so close on my tail that he’s almost certain to catch me now!
It would be laughable how much my… ‘employers’ had underestimated him if it weren’t so terrifying!
‘You’ve got a Terran with you! There should be no issue!’
Yes, that idiot mercenary they hired almost had me going with his smug, arrogant proclamation that ‘Big=slow! Slow=dead!’ as he idly showed off his little knife tricks!
My confidence lasted up until the very moment I saw the one we were supposed to rob!
[20cm] taller than the skinny mercenary and looking like he could easily weigh twice as much, the man was a Hunt damned beast compared to the one who was meant to protect me from him!
I think Flynn reassessed his cocksure attitude as well because, rather than waiting for me to have an opening like we agreed in the [fucking] plan, he just drew a knife and tried to stab the monster to death!
An extremely poorly calculated risk!
There was no competition!
This juggernaut dealt with Flynn as easily as Flynn could have dealt with me!
It took him a matter of seconds to dispatch my accomplice but that was a matter of seconds where he was distracted enough that I was able to snag what we had been after… not that it makes any difference now!
Just as I hear thundering footfalls coming up on my left, powerful fingers impact the space between the bottom of my neck and the top of my top shoulderblades.
I’m slammed into the ground… but not killed…
I can feel the power contained in the iron grip around my neck…
I know that decapitating me would be as simple as deciding to close his fingers but, as I wait for death to come, it doesn’t…
Instead, the hand slides up my shoulders, gathering the loose skin and lifting me up like a kit in her parent’s mouth…
The first thing I’m able to see is the monster’s flat, booted feet, followed by a pair of long thick legs, then a chest and left arm covered in a loose fitting, buttoned shirt, patterned with vertical and horizontal lines.
The red fabric of his top disguises the bloodstain from the wound he got from Flynn, just below his shoulder. However, the nauseatingly metallic smell of it absolutely fills my nostrils!
The final thing to be revealed, as my feet hang more than [a metre] from the ground, is a face… the scarred skin a pale beige, the white, calcite teeth bared in a furious grimace, copper coloured eyebrows tilted downward in the middle over a nose, wrinkled with anger, and emerald eyes, burning with rage!
His shoulders rise and fall, in time with panted breaths he sucks in and out through his gritted teeth, putting me less in mind of a person (or even an animal) catching their breath after exertion and more in mind of some hulking piece of machinery from the Steam Age venting its pressure!
The Terran extends his pallid skinned, long fingered, furless, pentadactyl left hand to me, stained with the ferrous blood that’s run down his sleeve, and growls “Sample!”
“No…” I breathe, terrified.
“GIRL! I AIN’T fuckin’ PLAYIN’ with you!” he snarls, curling all but his index finger and jabbing it towards my snout “You’re gonna. GIVE. BACK. what you. FUCKIN’. STOLE!”
“You… can take it… from my corpse…” I defy, clutching my exhausted, trembling pawhands to the front of my jumpsuit.
Effortlessly, his free hand comes forward, batting my four aside, before pinching the top of the stasis vial and pulling it free, with there being absolutely nothing I can do to stop him!
He holds up the tube, in which is visible a small plant with a rosette of frilly black leaves and through which can be seen a frozen impression of the room it was in when it was stasised, demanding “You’re really willin’ to die for this!? For corporate espionage?!… Why the fuck’s this matter to you like that?!?!?!”
“I don’t care… about the plant… at all…” I answer, defeated.
His face twists in a sneer as he asks “Then why tell me I had to pry it from your cold. dead. hands!?”
“Because… if I come back… emptyhanded… they’re going to… torture my husband… and son… and make me watch!… If I don’t… come back… at all… maybe they’ll let them go!” I pant in answer.
His face falls blank… but I can tell that is not because he’s no longer angry!
Instead, his redoubled rage has gone from white hot to ice cold as he leans in and demands “Who’s ‘they’?”
---2715 Terran Calenda2 years AF---
“One!?” demands the sceptical, lutrine, Nvar man, one of six listening to my story for the first time (along with the two friends who’ve heard it before), holding up a webbed pawhand and extending a single finger “You’re trying to tell us that one Terran dismantled the entire Giluspri Sisters’ Syndicate, overnight!?… Simply because you told him a sob story about them holding your family hostage!?”
“I did say you wouldn’t believe me(!)” I smirk, lifting my drink to take a sip.
“You’re damn right I don’t believe you!!!” he sneers “It might have been a little more believable if you’d made it a team of a dozen or so Terrans that were guarding this thing but one!?… There’s no way it took a single individual a single night to root out and entirely destroy an enterprise that Prosperity’s government had been hunting for nearly [2 decades], even if that individual was a Terran!”
I place my drink down on the table and turn the palms of all four pawhands to the ceiling as I say “Believe me or don’t… that’s exactly how it happened!”
“Hmmm… Don’t know ’bout ‘exactly’…!” comes a familiar voice from behind my head, in the next booth over.
I freeze and straighten my back.
The friends and audience in my booth are looking past me, curiously, but, from their faces, it doesn’t look like they can see anything.
I stand and slide out through the gap between the table and Nafnarl’s footpaws.
I turn right and am immediately able to see that the booth next to us is occupied by a mixture of Terrans and some much smaller humanoids with green skin.
I keep going, rounding the partition to reveal…
“By the Hunt! Victor?!” I exclaim, seeing the man sat with his back almost exactly to where I was sitting, next to another tall, slim humanoid with blue skin and four arms.
His copper hair is much longer, his face isn’t as scarred and isn’t wearing the disgusted sneer that characterised so much of the time he and I spent together but… there’s no mistaking it!
The man turns his head, smiling, before standing up to nearly twice my height and extending a palm to ruffle the fur between my ears, saying “How’s it goin’, Foxy? You look a lot better ’an you did last time I saw you at least(!)” gesturing with his other hand up and down my less skinny and less visibly scarred body.
“Never mind that, Victor! What are you doing here?! You didn’t tell me you were coming back to Prosperity!”
He smirks “Yeah, sorry Foxy… It’s a loose lips sink ships kinda deal… Just thought I’d show my friends here the bar you brought me to celebrate after everythin’ was done that time… Didn’t think I’d actually run into you here!”
I stare up at the man, agog, for a few moments before reaching up with both my left hands and closing them around his wrist.
He allows me to drag him back to the head of my table.
“Nafnarl! Gfurnaf! This is him! This is the one I’ve been telling you about for the last [5 years]!” I say to my two Graufna friends before turning to the rest of the table to declare “He’s the man who took down the Giluspris! He’s Victor ‘Cuddles’ Taylor!”
With mirthful bemusement, the Terran raises his left palm to the table to smile “Y’alright guys!” before his eyes scan the faces and his expression goes concerned. He turns to me and asks “Your hubby alright, Foxy?”
I bare my teeth (I hope friendlily) and answer “Fnarnulf’s fine, Victor!… Fuffarn too! This is just a girl’s night…” gesturing at my two friends “…or… it was(!)” gesturing over the four men and two women, of four different species, who joined us to hear my story.
“What did you mean by it not being ‘exactly’ right?” queries Lunvo, the same sceptical Nvar who voiced disbelief before, still looking sceptical (not that I can blame him) but at least impressed by the fact that the ‘con’ has a (imposing looking) Terran stooge now(!)
“Weeeeell…” Victor frowns down at me, mirthfully “…the way she described me dodgin’ that knife attack, she made me sound almost psychic(!)… In reality, she and this guy weren’t as smooth as she seems to think(!) The fact that I even got nicked by someone I was payin’ as much attention to as that is a bad reflection on my reaction time!… Also, she kinda made it sound like I went into their headquarters with a gun in one hand and a lit plasmasword in the other(!) As I recall, I gave ’em all a chance to surrender and come quietly and it were only after they, shall we say, indicated a lack of interest in that option that my weapons first cleared leather!… Oh! And what was with all that comparin’ the way I pant to ventin’ steam engines, Foxy(?!)”
“But…” starts Muan, a nervous tolypeutine Wne woman beside her Wno husband, Kmuw “…you don’t deny it was you and you alone who brought down the Giluspris?… Without help?”
The pale skin of the Terran’s flat face performs a complicated scrunch as he considers the question before answering “Don’t know ’bout ‘without help’… I had Foxy here for showin’ me the way, after I’d done a lotta convincin’… and, once I’d taken care of ’em, local law enforcers came to take the survivors away… Aaaaand… I probably didn’t actually manage to kill or capture every last one of ’em… just gutted its power structure enough that the rats fled the sinkin’ ship(!)”
“Why are you calling her ‘Foxy’?” asks Lunvo, four eyes narrowed in suspicion “‘Fnurfar’ is the name she gave us!”
The large man shrugs his shoulders “I didn’t get her name until we came here to celebrate… she didn’t trust me to give it… Had to call her somethin’, so I called her Foxy.”
“Hmmm…” responds Lunvo “…I’m not buying it…”
Victor raises an eyebrow “You ain’t buyin’ me givin’ her a nickname(!?)”
“I don’t believe any of it! The whole story reeks of the fanciful!”
I bare my teeth and slam my paws on the table before snarling “I don’t care if you question my honesty, Lunvo, but this man saved my husband’s life, my son’s life, the lives of dozens of others, freed me from effective slavery and freed this planet from its largest criminal syndicate! I will not have you questioning his integrity!”
Lunvo cowers away from me, despite the table separating us.
I feel a large, strong hand on my shoulder.
I turn to see a smiling face.
“Eeeeasy there, Foxy… ’Preciate the defence but there ain’t no need to get heated over it!… ’Specially not when there’s a really easy way to sort this out…” he looks up at Lunvo and asks “Lunvo, was it? Could I ask you to look up the front page of the Prosperity Chronicle from the 3rd of September, 2710?… I think you’ll see a picture of me shakin’ hands with your governor at the time…”
---
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Dramatis Personae

For those who have been following the mass media headlines and don't have much experience with the real estate industry in CA, they assume:

• "Agents won't need to get paid anymore"
• "I can negotiate commissions"
• "I don't need an agent"
• "Agents won't be making 6%"

The list of claims from the novice public population goes on and on...
First and foremost, commissions have ALWAYS been negotiable. In all the new contracts coming to the state of CA, you will see this written repeatedly, so much that it will become embedded in your mind.
The NAR lawsuit, was nothing but a pure money grab by attorneys. Anyone with actual knowledge of the case and what's happening will tell you the same thing. Why do I say that? Well, for starters, the plaintiffs in the case all have a common theme - They signed a listing agreement. On those listing agreements/contracts are the terms, commissions, etc. We are all grown adults, if you cannot read the terms of a contract you are physically signing, that's a problem. If you cannot comprehend the terms of the contract you signed, that's a problem. If you don't agree with the terms and conditions of the contract you signed and you did not speak up to either question, counter or negotiate it, that's a problem. To then go an file a lawsuit because you did one or all of the above, is the definition of contradiction. That's what happened in the case. It was a quick open and close, attorneys saw the big dollar signs and moved it along without any proper defense from the defendants. When you sign an agreement/contract, you are acknowledging that you reviewed and accept EVERYTHING in that agreement/contract. There's no going back on an agreement, unless there's a specific term written into the agreement, likely would state an addendum would need to ratified by both parties to change anything.
So what's the results?
The ruling stated that the MLS needs to remove the buyer's agent co-operative compensation from the MLS. In Real Estate, specifically in California, you don't see 6% commissions, I've been in Real Estate nearly 10 years, do business in the Bay Area and LA, I've never or heard 6%. 5% has been the norm and commissions have ALWAYS been negotiable. The structure of commissions thus far have been the listing agent and seller agree on a commission that's compensated to the listing agent and to the buyer's agent - but the listing brokerage technically is collect the entire amount and distributing the buyer's agent commission to the buyer's brokerage at closing. So for instance:

• Listing Brokerage collects 5% from the sale of the property and offers 2.5% buyer's brokerage co-operative compensation. Very simple.

So now, that the buyer's brokerage co-operative compensation will not longer be a thing, the public thinks buyer's agents are suddenly going to be working for free or a very low amount. Real Estate agents are independent contractors, we don't make any money unless we close transactions, there's many fees involved which the public are unaware about & no, good agents are not focused on the dollar amount, they are focused on volume and doing right by their clients.
Sellers will still be able to compensate a buyer's agent, no one can tell a seller they can't. The structure of how it'll be processed slightly changes. There's various ways, which I won't go into in detail here and share my strategies since there may be other agents lurking here. These strategies, along with other new practices is what's going to separate the agents who stay in the business and the thousands who will be moving onto other endeavors.
Moving forward starting August 17th - Those buyers out there who don't commit to an agent and want to pull around multiple at a time, those days are done. One bad practice that majority of agents have is they never developed proper execution of the buyebroker representation agreement. Whether it be non-exclusive or exclusive, majority of agents never implemented it and the public didn't know anything else on how business is suppose to run. I sit on the minority side of agents who actually does implement the buyebrokerage agreement. August 17th, every single agent will have the specific policy that they need to sign agreements with every buyer they work with. Every buyer out there, before you can even go look at a house, you need to sign an agreement with an agent. A buyer won't be permitted to see a home without an agency agreement. This is all thanks to the lawsuit settlement.
This makes it more difficult for the buyers at the end of the day. Why? To begin with, a buyer needs to find an agent and commit to them. With the agreements that buyers will have to sign, there will specifically be a section regarding the compensation due to the buyer's agent. You as the buyer will technically be on the hook of that compensation to your buyer's agent, if the seller is not willing to compensate. There are various strategies here which a savvy and experienced Agent can ensure their buyer clients won't need to come out of pocket to compensate the buyer's agent for their services, again, these strategies is what's going to separate the majority of the agents from the ones at the top.
There's additional conversations and paperwork that needs to and will be made at every initial conversation between a buyer and their potential new agent. Along with listing agents and their sellers. The groups behind this change want to believe this creates more "transparency" in the Real Estate business. It actually does the opposite. It becomes a huge unknown and guessing game about compensation to agents from the buyer perspective and also sellers. Buyers will be going into the process unsure about whether or not they will need to end up paying their buyer's agent or will the seller be able to cover the fees from the proceeds. Sellers will not be sure about how much they can potentially be netting from the sell of the property, because a buyer's agent with the best offer could be requesting either a very high or standard commission. There's no improvement towards transparency in this. We're literally going backwards in the industry. This is what so many people just don't have any idea about.
The structure of commissions is just one area of change we are going to experience. Open houses will be different, every buyer will need to sign an acknowledgment document upon entry. Sellers may offer "concessions" - so that's the new word instead of "commissions". Literally the industry is going through technical changes with procedures and contracts which at the core does not improve anything for the consumers. I guarantee more people will feel frustrated and confused about buying or selling with these changes coming soon.
Again, commissions have ALWAYS been negotiable. Redfin has always had their low cost services, which don't produce good results, as a seller, you leave well over $100k on the table. As a buyer, you won't know what a great agent experience feels like. Along with those flat fee services, those are even worse. Attorneys are out there too, all they do is push paper along, that's it. They don't have a clue about Real Estate. All of those services have always been available, if they were any good, it would have taken over the industry a long time ago. Clearly, it's not. Just remember, like anything in life, you get what you pay for. Don't expect to have great service and low ball your agent. There's no sense to battle over 1% of agent fees, when the agent is going to be making your life easier throughout the process, negotiate on your behalf, cover all your bases to minimize potential legal troubles and provide the highest level of advisory. The great agents out there, are well worth what they request for compensation. For years, I've been negotiating deals for my buyers $100,000 - $250,000 below seller's desired prices on average. I jump through hoops of fire for my clients to serve them as best as possible, working around the clock, at all hours, matter of fact, it's currently 2:37am as I write this... And for my sellers, I have been negotiating sales on their property anywhere from $100,000 - $500,000 above their expectations (not list price, big difference, a list price is nothing but a marketing strategy, keep that in mind). I specialize with investments, have been doing this for nearly a decade. Time and time again, I've located deals for my investor clients/partners which literally no one else saw other than myself. I say that with full confidence, backed by facts. There's been many deals, sitting on the market, available for anyone to purchase, available to negotiate to the best of your ability and no one did so, no one saw it, other than myself. Which resulted in significant profits within a short amount of time. The ability to foresee the future value of a property in the market is not something anyone can do. The ability to envision a renovated property from a torn down home, is not common.
When you break it down, the agent fees are minuscule in comparison to what a great advisor is able to do.

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

Skinwalkers in Rural Michigan
I recently purchased a 10,000 lumen flashlight to illuminate the surrounding woods as I walk my dog in the evenings. I have been hearing some strange noises at night, and I figured it would be nice to see everything that boxes me in as I walk Max, my dog. But boy was I wrong. I should have been afraid of what can't be seen outside the veils of my iphone flashlight. What was to be exhumed by my flashlight terrified me to my core. This happened a week or so ago, November, 2nd 2022, Harrison Michigan. The evenings were approaching abruptly now. It was only 8:30pm when I decided to take my golden retriever on one last shit walk before I got settled in for the night. At this time, in rural Michigan at least, it’s pitch black. I cursed underneath my breath as I opened the door and peered out. Fuck, chilly and dark. God, why haven’t I moved south yet? Max was timid this evening, which was so really unlike him. Very strange. The darkness emanating from outside my house poured in like a disease. It was void of any color. Upset about not replacing my porch light, I pulled out my new amazon special, this week it was a 10,000 lumen flashlight. Feeling its expensive metallic body in my hands felt exonerating, and the excitement to use it overthrew any bad vibes Max was giving. He whimpered as soon as the door opened, he then put his tail between his legs and shivered. I scoffed at his weak tendencies here, this was so unlike him. I turned this ungodly bright flashlight on and showed it forward. “For fuck sake look Max, nothing to be afraid of y-” I was cut off. My mouth gaped at what was in front of me. Shown in the powerful beam of the flashlight was a contorted lanky humanoid figure. It slumped down from a standing position and got on all fours like a person miming a frog. Then it jerked its head up and sniffed the air. Animistically. It turned its head and bored its stare right into my eyes. Then it darted into a bush on the edge of the woods. The edge of the woods that surround my entire house. I heard leaves crackle and watched the skin colored creature dissipate into them. I focused the beam of my light directly onto that bush. It was incredibly bright and the bush appeared like high definition from the immense light, especially in contrast to the oily blackness that surrounded me. The bush shaked ominously, like a predator was inside, shifting around. A familiar feminine voice came from that bush. “Please help me… oh god please help… help… help mee…” And the leaves rustled again. Max whimpered in terror and got between my legs. I grabbed the baseball bat that I kept beside the front door for just such occasions and held it beside my head in a “ready to whoop” gesture, the other hand on my flashlight. I shakily started towards the bush from my door. Max bolted inside, leaving me completely alone. “Helllppppp meee” the voice cooed. The soft feminine coo of the voice crackled a little this time. Yeah, almost as if something was masquerading as a female, and luring me in. I was about 6 feet away by now, I could feel the blood pulsating in my temples. Goosh flesh ran down my body. “Helllpp,” deeper voice “Meeee!” An elongated ashy white arm flung towards me at ankle height. I instinctively stomped down on it. I heard cracking and sloshing from underneath my shoe. I stepped directly onto its wrist. I heard a shriek from inside the depths of that bush and the hand sprung up like a trap being set off. The strength possessed by this creature was unreal, it slung me to the ground and began to reel me into its bush where it resided. I screamed, smacked the arm with the bat as hard as I could and then lost control of the bat. It fell next to me as I was dragged closer to the bush, now my feet were inside the leafy abyss. The voice turned into my mothers voice. The clawed hands grasp on me tightened with tremendous strength and the nails dug into my skin through my pants. “Help me Nathaniel. Your mother needs help. I can't walk.” Yeah alright. I shined my light into the bush. What I saw still makes me tremble. It was my dead mothers face there alright, but atop an ashy white skinned humanoid skeleton with backward joints. The arms bent unnaturally opposite of how they should, the legs were bent like a frogs ready to pounce. The eyes were milky white, but were extremely intelligent and they gazed into my consciousness. With all of my force, I horse kicked my deceased mothers face and heard a massive crunch as my heel connected with her masqueraded nose. A profane yelp of pain blasted into the darkness of this B.F.E. where I lived. The grip on my leg loosened just enough from the blow for me to break free. I shot upright and turned to the door. I dropped my flashlight in this madness and couldn’t give a shit less. It could keep it for all I fucking cared. I bolted towards the door, and as I reached the halfway point I was Illuminated by a blinding bright light from behind. Almost like a spotlight beamed right onto me. My. Fucking. God. That thing had my flashlight and was pointing it directly at me. “Helpp… Nathaniel. Help me son.” The light started to bob up and down. Whatever was holding it was lurking closer and closer to me, and was gaining on me much faster than I was to the door. So much for not being able to walk. I ended up winning the foot race miraculously. I jumped inside my door and slammed it behind me. I heard a loud thump into the door immediately following its closure. My mothers late voice came again, beckoning me. “Son. You know your mother has taught you better than this. Let me in. Please, my son.” The light shone through the window at me, blinding me. Seeing spots and now disoriented, I fumbled myself up and managed to lock the door. Max was at the furthest point possible from the door, glaring at the door trembling in fear. Three solid knocks from the top of the door frame. Then the light was gone and I heard a metallic clunk, the thing must have dropped the flashlight on its retreat. The light now was gleaming off a huge tree. I watched a tall skinny humanoid creature with long contorted ligaments jerkily run towards that tree. His legs bent opposite of how our legs do, and same with the arms. Then it bent down in the same erratic way that it moved, and got onto all fours as it approached the tree. It paused a second and peered up the trunk. His head swiftly snapped to my face. Its now black and sunken eyes stared into my soul. I froze in terror as it climbed that trunk, with its face directly bored into me mind you, like squirrel. Scurrying right up it, never leaving contact with my eyes. The light undoubtedly should be blinding his vision, but the sense of intelligence of it knowing my existence was uncanny. Light didnt hurt it. As it ascended it smiled at me, a predatory grin. It disappeared into a purple dot that was still in my vision from when I was blinded by the flashlight. As I moved my head to try to see the creature, I watched tree leaves russell and saw no more of it. Yet. I locked the doors that night and cleaned up Max’s accidents from not going out. At night as I was asleep, I was awoken by my mothers soft voice from right outside the bedroom window. “Let me in Nathaniel..” Then directly following this motherly imitation came a 10,000 lumen flashlight beamed into my face. I heard the window slowly open, but I was blinded by the light.

Skinwalkers in Rural Michigan
I recently purchased a 10,000 lumen flashlight to illuminate the surrounding woods as I walk my dog in the evenings. I have been hearing some strange noises at night, and I figured it would be nice to see everything that boxes me in as I walk Max, my dog. But boy was I wrong. I should have been afraid of what can't be seen outside the veils of my iphone flashlight. What was to be exhumed by my flashlight terrified me to my core. This happened a week or so ago, November, 2nd 2022, Harrison Michigan. The evenings were approaching abruptly now. It was only 8:30pm when I decided to take my golden retriever on one last shit walk before I got settled in for the night. At this time, in rural Michigan at least, it’s pitch black. I cursed underneath my breath as I opened the door and peered out. Fuck, chilly and dark. God, why haven’t I moved south yet? Max was timid this evening, which was so really unlike him. Very strange. The darkness emanating from outside my house poured in like a disease. It was void of any color. Upset about not replacing my porch light, I pulled out my new amazon special, this week it was a 10,000 lumen flashlight. Feeling its expensive metallic body in my hands felt exonerating, and the excitement to use it overthrew any bad vibes Max was giving. He whimpered as soon as the door opened, he then put his tail between his legs and shivered. I scoffed at his weak tendencies here, this was so unlike him. I turned this ungodly bright flashlight on and showed it forward. “For fuck sake look Max, nothing to be afraid of y-” I was cut off. My mouth gaped at what was in front of me. Shown in the powerful beam of the flashlight was a contorted lanky humanoid figure. It slumped down from a standing position and got on all fours like a person miming a frog. Then it jerked its head up and sniffed the air. Animistically. It turned its head and bored its stare right into my eyes. Then it darted into a bush on the edge of the woods. The edge of the woods that surround my entire house. I heard leaves crackle and watched the skin colored creature dissipate into them. I focused the beam of my light directly onto that bush. It was incredibly bright and the bush appeared like high definition from the immense light, especially in contrast to the oily blackness that surrounded me. The bush shaked ominously, like a predator was inside, shifting around. A familiar feminine voice came from that bush. “Please help me… oh god please help… help… help mee…” And the leaves rustled again. Max whimpered in terror and got between my legs. I grabbed the baseball bat that I kept beside the front door for just such occasions and held it beside my head in a “ready to whoop” gesture, the other hand on my flashlight. I shakily started towards the bush from my door. Max bolted inside, leaving me completely alone. “Helllppppp meee” the voice cooed. The soft feminine coo of the voice crackled a little this time. Yeah, almost as if something was masquerading as a female, and luring me in. I was about 6 feet away by now, I could feel the blood pulsating in my temples. Goosh flesh ran down my body. “Helllpp,” deeper voice “Meeee!” An elongated ashy white arm flung towards me at ankle height. I instinctively stomped down on it. I heard cracking and sloshing from underneath my shoe. I stepped directly onto its wrist. I heard a shriek from inside the depths of that bush and the hand sprung up like a trap being set off. The strength possessed by this creature was unreal, it slung me to the ground and began to reel me into its bush where it resided. I screamed, smacked the arm with the bat as hard as I could and then lost control of the bat. It fell next to me as I was dragged closer to the bush, now my feet were inside the leafy abyss. The voice turned into my mothers voice. The clawed hands grasp on me tightened with tremendous strength and the nails dug into my skin through my pants. “Help me Nathaniel. Your mother needs help. I can't walk.” Yeah alright. I shined my light into the bush. What I saw still makes me tremble. It was my dead mothers face there alright, but atop an ashy white skinned humanoid skeleton with backward joints. The arms bent unnaturally opposite of how they should, the legs were bent like a frogs ready to pounce. The eyes were milky white, but were extremely intelligent and they gazed into my consciousness. With all of my force, I horse kicked my deceased mothers face and heard a massive crunch as my heel connected with her masqueraded nose. A profane yelp of pain blasted into the darkness of this B.F.E. where I lived. The grip on my leg loosened just enough from the blow for me to break free. I shot upright and turned to the door. I dropped my flashlight in this madness and couldn’t give a shit less. It could keep it for all I fucking cared. I bolted towards the door, and as I reached the halfway point I was Illuminated by a blinding bright light from behind. Almost like a spotlight beamed right onto me. My. Fucking. God. That thing had my flashlight and was pointing it directly at me. “Helpp… Nathaniel. Help me son.” The light started to bob up and down. Whatever was holding it was lurking closer and closer to me, and was gaining on me much faster than I was to the door. So much for not being able to walk. I ended up winning the foot race miraculously. I jumped inside my door and slammed it behind me. I heard a loud thump into the door immediately following its closure. My mothers late voice came again, beckoning me. “Son. You know your mother has taught you better than this. Let me in. Please, my son.” The light shone through the window at me, blinding me. Seeing spots and now disoriented, I fumbled myself up and managed to lock the door. Max was at the furthest point possible from the door, glaring at the door trembling in fear. Three solid knocks from the top of the door frame. Then the light was gone and I heard a metallic clunk, the thing must have dropped the flashlight on its retreat. The light now was gleaming off a huge tree. I watched a tall skinny humanoid creature with long contorted ligaments jerkily run towards that tree. His legs bent opposite of how our legs do, and same with the arms. Then it bent down in the same erratic way that it moved, and got onto all fours as it approached the tree. It paused a second and peered up the trunk. His head swiftly snapped to my face. Its now black and sunken eyes stared into my soul. I froze in terror as it climbed that trunk, with its face directly bored into me mind you, like squirrel. Scurrying right up it, never leaving contact with my eyes. The light undoubtedly should be blinding his vision, but the sense of intelligence of it knowing my existence was uncanny. Light didnt hurt it. As it ascended it smiled at me, a predatory grin. It disappeared into a purple dot that was still in my vision from when I was blinded by the flashlight. As I moved my head to try to see the creature, I watched tree leaves russell and saw no more of it. Yet. I locked the doors that night and cleaned up Max’s accidents from not going out. At night as I was asleep, I was awoken by my mothers soft voice from right outside the bedroom window. “Let me in Nathaniel..” Then directly following this motherly imitation came a 10,000 lumen flashlight beamed into my face. I heard the window slowly open, but I was blinded by the light.

So this is currently still ongoing currently but heres what happened. I was hired end of 2022 to be a chef at a small business. First small business I really have worked for. I have been mainly cooking for hotels so this is something new. This has to be better then my last job to where 30 days in, there were so many complaints about me (all fabricated) like i disappeared for 30 minutes but I was taking my lunch. Anyways so I should of have headed the front of house manager words about I will be run into the ground but I didn't listen I basically had zero training and was teaching myself everything as I was working. Orginally the Owner was respectful but shortly wasn't. I litterally couldn't do my job due to staff shortage to where I was bascially there open to close. Even July 4th. I litterally opened the whole resturant took customers orders and went and cooked. I have never waited tables before this. So bascially since I was salaried they were working me to the bone. Telling me take days off. I would tell them ok let me change my "days off" around so I don't have to worry about orders. I was basically ordering for 2 resturants and the staff wouldn't help me by making a low par list. I was basically a one man show do ordering, scheduling, if were low on something go to the store etc. The whole BOH was so messed up nothing was in order. Best way I can describe it is trying to open a resturant thats already open. Inventory messed up. Nothing was correct I basically had to start from stract to try to make it work. I was given a turd to shine and I couldn't shine that turd for the life of me. So shortly after july 4th thats where everything started going down hill. The staff was already disrespectful, owner didn't have my back. She then proceed to verbally abuse me in front of the staff. She hit me one time in the chest with a pastery, told me i'm making her resturant fail, told to shut up the list goes on and on. I already had mental health issues and disclosed this to the owner and still proceed to make my life hell, just so I would quit so she doesn't have to pay unemployment. I had 2 mental breakdowns at this job. My last shift I had one due to her telling me shut up and saying out to the resturant put the word out I'm looking for a new chef. Mind you this was a friday dinner service I had 2 new employees somewhat to try to train on top of all my other resposiblites and she barged into the kitchen and took over when I was trying to train and setup for dinner service. Side note she told one of the new employees why are you making that dish that way. So me and the employee pulled out the recipe book and she showed it to the owner that she was making it correctly to the recipe and the owner said nothing and walked away. So I had worked a 17 hour shift and also I couldn't remember the last time I had a day off. I was supposed to be back within 4 hours of leaving the resturant. Of course I overslept due to exhaustion and was fired due to that. So heres the revenge part. Its basically a 4 part revenge, so first part is I contacted the health department and due to my call they went from an A to a C. Second I contacted the labor board mind you if your salaried only one way (might be different state to state) but was told only entitled to pay if I was misclassified job title. Basically your hired to be a manager but your not doing any manager things. Hmmm those months of not doing my job hmmm. So just in What I could figure I'm pretty sure more but with what was stolen from pay checks it was looking at around $23,000 owed right there. Third talked to civil rights department and they are taking on my case. Lastly is the IRS hard to make and appointment but surely with also getting a messed up W2 and threating the IRS to be told I was right. I don't trust my paystubs etc is correct. Currently the most recent thing I can update on if people are intrested in it is monday will contact labor board about a response they were supposed to get from them about starting getting my owed pay. The civil rights currently am waiting for an investagor to be assigned and thats 6 more weeks out. Took about 6 months to hear from labor board after submitting claim.

Back in the 80's I lived in a town with a lot of military families so we were used to students arriving mid-semester and being gone the next. This new kid joined our class (Grade 4) and made friends with a few of us but I felt uneasy about him, I had never gotten a bad vibe from a kid my age before. He invited us to come by friday after school and we all agreed. On the walk to his place he told us his brother new a spell that would summon a demon and once it flew throughout the house slamming doors and cupboard drawers. A strong urge to leave hit me but I ignored it. We got to his house and sat in the kitchen, he introduced us to his Mom and then she went to the living room down the hall. Once she left he whispered "Everybody stay quiet and whisper or I'll get in trouble". We nodded in agreement and curiosity. He reached under the table, opened a hidden drawer by the floor and pulled out the Illuminati Card Game. As he opened the box he excitedly whispered about how the game could make things happen in the future. Just then his Mom appeared and went into a rage. She slapped him and yelled "You know you aren't supposed to show this to anyone"!!! She told us we had to leave immediately before turning her rage back on him. We got out of there asap and the weird thing is we never talked about that incident afterwards. I guess it was way too out there to bother addressing? Anyways, the kid never showed up at school again and the family had apparently moved almost overnight. No, I'm not saying they moved because of it or anything like that but have you guys ever looked at the decks of the cards? I have seen videos of certain decks and they show the twin towers being attacked with an explosion, the pentagon attacked with an explosion, gay activists, market manipulation, epidemic w/ quarantine... here's a vid showing other interesting similarities https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rtjyk1M4jzw Has anyone ever played the game and does anyone else get a bad vibe from it? Thanks, sorry tldr

The Celtics have six guys in the top 100 active players for total playoff games played:

• Horford - 181
• JB - 119
• Tatum - 108
• Jrue - 84
• White - 67
• Pritchard - 53

Total - 612
The Mavericks have three players in the same category:

• Kyrie - 91
• Markieff Morris - 50
• Luka - 45

Total - 186
Kyrie is 1-9 in his last 10 games played against the Celtics. The last time he won in Boston was 5/30/2021
Luka is 5-6 against Boston in his career. The last time he won in Boston was 3/13/22
These stats obviously omit context, but in my mind they still highlight a few things:

1. The Cs aren't a young and up-and-coming squad like we were described from 2018-2022. This is a team full of vets with lots of experience. We certainly have a recent history of squandering leads or floundering down the stretch, but that isn't THIS team. We should be approaching this series with total composure.
2. Defending home court is critical. We've struggled at home in the playoffs over the past few years; allowing the Mavs to steal a game at the Garden could give them hope. It's been over two years since either Kyrie or Luka has won a game in Boston -- they probably don't even remember when the last time was. Smothering them at home will impact their morale. If they don't believe they can win in Boston, they won't believe they can win the series.

Who's gonna win it? The Celtics. Because there's no other reason why. The Celtics are the bawlz.
Stats pulled from bball reference and statmuse.

I have a Vox AC15 head. I run into both channels from an A/B on my board. Here’s my signal: guitar-tuner-A/B: A to amp normal channel; B to dist and filter pedals then to top boost amp channel.
I have 3 drive pedals. Tube screamer for crunch, SLO 100 for distortion and a Golden Pearl set with low drive but high output for lead boost.
I want a super clean option on stage, but it’s hard to balance the master volume with the normal channel volume set really low to keep it clean and the top boost channel set higher to get breakup so I’ve got an extra low gain channel option.
I want to set the top boost channel really high and the normal channel really low, but there’s a huge volume difference.
What do you think about replacing my gain boost pedal with an EQ and have the “on” setting set to a reduced volume so that I could have the top boost channel set higher and it would match the normal channel because the EQ would bring it down, then when I need a boost I actually turn the EQ off. I think that’s kinda backwards, but I don’t have a lot of experience.
Thanks

Finn Tresscoat, a 20-year-old with short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a pale complexion, strolled down the sidewalk of his small town. He wore a light brown leather jacket over a black shirt, paired with black jeans and black-and-white sneakers.
As Finn ambled along, he glanced at the many shops lining the main road of the town's bustling center. He wasn't searching for anything in particular; he simply wanted to enjoy the rare day off from his job, one of the most perilous occupations in the United West (U.W.).
"Finn! Oh, Finn!"
Finn turned his head to the right and spotted Ms. Tori Elortor, or simply Ms. Tori as he called her. She was an older lady in her early fifties, though her youthful appearance often surprised the townsfolk. With long white hair cascading down her back, pale skin, and bright hazel eyes, she was a striking figure. Today, she wore a navy blue sundress over a pair of tight blue jeans and brown cowboy boots.
Ms. Tori, the local bakery owner, was considered quite attractive and often caught the eye of the younger men in town. Her curvaceous figure and active lifestyle, including regular yoga sessions in the park, only added to her allure. However, Finn saw her differently. Having known her since childhood and feeling like part of her family, he saw her as a maternal figure rather than anything else. He was also close to her son, Eric, feeling like an older brother to him.
Despite his demanding job, which kept him busy for nearly twenty-four-seven, Finn always tried to visit Ms. Tori and Eric whenever he could. Today was a rare opportunity for him to relax and reconnect.
"Ah, hi Ms. Tori! How are you today?" Finn greeted her with a warm smile.
Ms. Tori returned his smile. "I'm just fine, Finn. The real question is, how are you? I haven't seen you in months!" Her tone shifted to one of concern. "I was worried, and so was Eric. You do have quite a dangerous job for someone so young," she added.
What kind of dangerous job did Finn have, you might ask?
Well, Finn was a "Gaunt Hunter," a member of a specialized group tasked with safeguarding the small towns outside the major cities in the United West from creatures known as Gaunts.
These slim, humanoid creatures had leathery black skin, no eyes or nose, and wide mouths that drooled a strange dark green liquid. They had emerged after the cataclysmic "Decade of Winter."
The Gaunts varied in form and capability. Some were very muscular, while others had bat-like wings, allowing them to fly. They were also cunning, often creating weapons from scavenged materials and hunting in packs.
Disturbingly, these were just the common variants.
There were tales of Gaunts resembling animals and some that could even speak, though Finn himself had never encountered such anomalies.
Despite the ominous title of Gaunt Hunter, Finn's role wasn't as glamorous as one might imagine.
He wasn't a high-tech, gadget-wielding hero. Gaunt Hunters received training similar to regular police officers, focusing on the use of firearms. However, since firearms were not commonly traded or shipped to the smaller towns outside the major cities, Gaunt Hunters were also taught to wield swords, knives, and other melee weapons, as well as trained in close-range combat.
Finn had been trained to fire a pistol but also learned to fight with a machete, which was more practical for their needs than a traditional sword. On duty, he carried a standard-issue Glock-17 and a machete strapped to his side. He also wore the standard protective gear issued to United West Security Forces (UWSF) officers.
Returning to the conversation with Ms. Tori, Finn let out a lighthearted chuckle. "Dangerous for most of the veterans on the job, but I'm young and fit! Practically invincible!" he said with a grin.
Ms. Tori gave Finn an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow. "Is that right?" she asked. "Then what's this I hear about a Gaunt nearly taking your head off just last week?"
Finn's face flushed with embarrassment as he recalled the incident. A Gaunt had caught him off guard and nearly decapitated him with a makeshift axe. "Okay... yeah, fair enough," he admitted, looking down.
Ms. Tori's expression softened, and she gave him a few light taps on the shoulder. "Oh, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Finn, I'm just reminding you that your job is dangerous… You need to be careful," she said gently.
Finn looked up at her and nodded. "I know, and thank you for caring," he replied. Inwardly, he thought, 'It's not like anyone else does'
"Of course, I care, Finn," Ms. Tori said firmly. "Do you know how devastated I'd be if you got hurt or, heaven forbid, died? I'd be heartbroken,” she told him. “Eric would be even worse off, after all, who would play with him?"
Finn felt a wave of warmth at her words. Despite not wanting to worry Ms. Tori or Eric, it was comforting to know there were people who cared about him, and who wanted him to stay safe and come back home. "I guess you're right," he said with a soft smile. "I'll try to be more careful out there, I promise,”
Ms. Tori nodded, her smile lingering. "Good,” she said. “Now, how many days do you have off?" she asked.
"Not many," Finn replied with a sigh. "Just today,"
Ms. Tori's eyes widened in shock. "Only today? Why?" She asked.
Finn's expression turned serious. "Many of the other Gaunt Hunters are either dead, retiring, or switching to become cops... There are only ten of us left in the entire town,"
Ms. Tori's eyes widened in horror. Gaunt Hunters were the primary defense against the Gaunts. The law across the U.W. dictated that local law enforcement dealt with human issues, leaving Gaunt-related threats to the Hunters. The thought of their numbers dwindling was terrifying.
Each town was supposed to have a contingent of Gaunt Hunters, given that small towns were the primary targets for Gaunt attacks.
Major cities, in contrast, rarely had to deal with Gaunts.
The dense populations of these urban centers acted as a deterrent, scaring off most Gaunt packs. Even if a small group of Gaunts did manage to attack, the cities were equipped with heavy weaponry and advanced defenses, making Gaunt Hunters unnecessary there.
This starkly contrasted with the dire need for Gaunt Hunters in the smaller, more vulnerable towns.
Ideally, each small town would have around fifty Gaunt Hunters, a number intended to ensure adequate protection against the Gaunt threat. However, the reality was far grimmer. The inherent dangers and heavy responsibilities associated with the job dissuaded many from becoming Gaunt Hunters. The perilous nature of the work, combined with the constant threat of death, resulted in a severe shortage of recruits.
As a result, the numbers in many towns had dwindled alarmingly.
"Only ten?" she repeated her voice barely above a whisper. "That's... alarming… What happens if more Gaunts come?"
"We do our best," Finn said, trying to sound confident. "But it's tough… Every day, we’re stretched thinner,"
Ms. Tori took a deep breath, trying to process the gravity of the situation.
Finn felt a lump in his throat. "I promise, Ms. Tori. I'll do everything I can to stay safe," he said, trying to remind her if his promise mere moments ago.
Ms. Tori wanted to argue with Finn's comment, but deep down, she knew he was somewhat right. The town was struggling—trade had slowed to a trickle, and many residents had moved away. The constant threat of Gaunt attacks made living there increasingly untenable. Even Ms. Tori had considered leaving to ensure Eric’s safety and to give him a chance to grow up in a more stable environment where he could interact with other children and experience the broader world.
However, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
Her late husband was buried in this town, and even though years had passed since his death, she felt tied to the place where he rested. She had loved this town deeply, and in a way, staying felt like keeping a part of him alive.
Seeing the conflict in her eyes, Finn decided to change the subject. "Hey, why don't I come over for dinner?" he suggested with a soft smile. "I'm sure Eric would be happy to see me after so long,”
Ms. Tori was pulled out of her thoughts by his offer. She smiled, grateful for his willingness to spend his rare day off with them. "That would be lovely, Finn," she said with a quick nod.
They walked together to Ms. Tori's home, a modest three-bedroom house with a large attic. Inside, they found Eric sitting in front of the TV, watching cartoons. Hearing Finn’s voice, Eric turned, his face lighting up with excitement. He jumped out of his seat and ran to give Finn a hug.
Eric was about 11 years old, with brown hair like his deceased father but hazel eyes like his mother. He was wearing a dark black and blue striped shirt, dark gray pants, and black slip-on shoes.
Finn hugged him back, smiling. "I've got some stories to tell over dinner," he said, which made Eric's eyes sparkle with anticipation.
He loved hearing about the world beyond their town, even if it was mostly filled with woods and the ruins of an old world.
Finn then followed Ms. Tori into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. He found what he could and handed the items to her, glad to be of assistance. Ms. Tori thanked him and asked if he could help chop vegetables, which he was more than happy to do.
As they worked side by side, Ms. Tori glanced at Finn, her expression a mix of gratitude and concern. "You know, Finn, this town means a lot to me,” she told him “It’s where I built my life with my husband, and it’s where I want Eric to grow up, despite everything,"
Finn nodded, understanding the deep attachment she had. "I get it, Ms. Tori. This place has a lot of memories, and as long as I'm here, I'll do my best to keep it safe for you and Eric,"
Ms. Tori smiled warmly. "I know you will, Finn... Thank you,”
Dinner was a warm, lively affair. Eric listened intently to Finn’s stories, hanging on every word. The laughter and conversation filled the small home, creating a moment of normalcy amidst the chaos of their world. For a brief time, the threats outside seemed distant, and they enjoyed the simple pleasure of being together.
After a few bites, Eric looked at Finn eagerly. "Can you tell me one of your stories, Finn?" he asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.
Finn nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "Well, a couple of days ago, I was out with two or three other Hunters, we had just finished fighting off a few Gaunts, once they were dealt with, we decided to explore the area since it was the site of an old abandoned amusement park,” he began. “Some of the rides were still standing, though most were broken and destroyed, it was interesting to see the tech they used to have back then," Finn recounted.
Eric's eyes widened with excitement. "Wow! That's awesome!" he exclaimed.
Finn grinned. "It was pretty cool, but it’s nothing compared to some of the parks I saw in Salton Lake City! Those places are amazing,"
Eric's eyes gleamed at the mention of the nearby city. "Man, I want to go there someday!" he said enthusiastically. "Maybe when I start my training to be a Gaunt Hunter," he added with a big smile.
Finn chuckled. "So, you want to be a Gaunt Hunter, huh?" he asked. "You think you’ve got what it takes?"
Eric nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! I know I can be a Gaunt Hunter! I bet I can even be better than you!" he declared, pointing at Finn.
Finn raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh really?" he said. "Who's to say I'm not the best of the best, huh?"
Eric gave him a smug smirk. "Because if you were the best Hunter, you'd have already gotten rid of all the Gaunts!" he said confidently.
Finn chuckled. "Well, you got me there," he admitted. "But hey, if you think you can be the best and get rid of all the Gaunts, then I say go for it, dude."
Eric chuckled and resumed eating, his enthusiasm undimmed. Ms. Tori watched the two with a fond smile, marveling at the brotherly bond between them. It warmed her heart to see how close they had become. She knew that Finn cherished this connection just as much as Eric did, especially since Finn had grown up without a family of his own, raised in the local orphanage.
She recalled those early days when a young Finn would walk into the bakery, clutching a few coins. His eyes would light up with wonder at the sight of the treats and goodies lining the shelves. Something about him had touched her heart, and she began offering him free treats for him and the other orphans whenever he visited. Her late husband had also taken a liking to Finn, treating him like the son they never had. When Finn decided to become a Gaunt Hunter, it was her husband who had helped him prepare for the rigorous training, getting him into shape and offering constant encouragement.
After her husband's death, it was Finn who helped her grieve and find the strength to carry on. She had felt terrible about leaning on him during such a hard time, knowing he had his own sadness to deal with, yet he remained steadfast and strong. He had been there for her and for Eric, helping the young boy understand their loss and navigate the difficult times that followed.
She was truly grateful to have Finn in her life.
Suddenly, Finn's phone vibrated insistently in his pocket. He quickly reached for it and saw a text message from work. He opened it, dreading what it might say.
[~Finn, we need you tonight. Jon and Gary quit out of the blue, so we need someone to fill in.~]
Finn sighed, frustration bubbling up inside him. 'Great, now we're down to eight Hunters,' he thought. 'And Jon and Gary were both my age and in better shape than the veterans at the station.'
Ms. Tori noticed the change in his expression and knew immediately what it meant. "Does duty call, Finn?" she asked gently.
Finn nodded, his expression weary. "Yeah, looks like Jon and Gary quit. They need me to cover tonight."
Ms. Tori sighed, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Finn. I know how much you were looking forward to some time off."
"It's alright," Finn said, forcing a smile. "I knew it was a long shot anyway. The town needs all the help it can get."
Eric looked up, concern etched on his young face. "Do you have to go, Finn?"
Finn ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Yeah, buddy. Duty calls. But I'll be back, and we’ll have more stories to share. I promise."
Ms. Tori gave him a supportive nod. "Just promise us you'll stay safe, Finn."
"I will," Finn assured her. He stood up, preparing to leave. "Thanks for dinner, Ms. Tori. It was great, as always."
As he left the warm, comforting atmosphere of Ms. Tori's home and headed out into the cold night, Finn felt a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the exhaustion and the ever-present danger, he knew he had to keep fighting. For the town, for Eric, and for the memory of the man who had helped him become who he was.
Once at the station, Finn entered and immediately spotted Dick Cortez, a veteran Gaunt Hunter who had been safeguarding the town for as long as Finn could remember. Dick, now in his 50s, had graying hair, deep-set wrinkles, and perpetually tired eyes. He was wearing the standard-issue armor that all Gaunt Hunters received, though each Hunter was allowed to customize their armor with different colors and modifications.
Dick's armor consisted of a high-collar black shirt beneath a modified, pure black chest plate that covered his upper abdomen, along with similarly-colored bracers. Both the chest plate and bracers were trimmed with white and featured matching shoulder pads. He also wore gloves with small metal plating on the fingers, dark navy jeans, black and white metal knee pads, and dark brown boots.
Dick noticed Finn and offered a small smile. "Heya, Finn," he greeted.
"Hey yourself, Dick," Finn replied with a nod.
"Sorry about having to bring you in on your day off," Dick said, his tone genuinely apologetic.
Finn walked over to his locker, where his armor and weapons were stored. He glanced at Dick and shrugged, giving a small smile. "It's alright, Dick. I understand why, and I'm not angry—well, not at you, but at those two," Finn said, referring to Jon and Gary.
Dick nodded in understanding. "Trust me, I'm disappointed in them too, but I can see why they left so suddenly," he said.
Finn nodded back, opening his locker to reveal his armor. His armor was similar to Dick's but differed in color and the clothing underneath. Finn wore his usual attire beneath the armor, which consisted of a dark brown chest plate trimmed with black, matching bracers, shoulder pads, knee pads, and gloves.
He took the armor out and quickly dressed, securing the pieces in place. He then grabbed his Glock and its holster, strapping it around his waist, and added his machete in its sheath. Once fully suited up, he turned to Dick with a raised brow. "Which side of town am I patrolling tonight?"
"Outer wall, west side," Dick stated, his voice firm.
Finn nodded, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. The west side of the outer wall was notorious for Gaunt activity, a hotspot for their attacks. It was going to be a long night.
As he headed out, Dick called after him, "Stay sharp out there, Finn. We can't afford to lose any more good Hunters."
Finn turned back and gave a resolute nod. "I will, Dick. See you in the morning."
Once outside the city, Finn couldn't help but take in the grim sight of the outer wall. It was marred with deep scratches and chips from relentless Gaunt attacks, stained with the dark green goo that dripped from their slavering mouths, and speckled with bloodstains that would never fully wash away. The stark contrast between this battered exterior and the inner walls of the town was striking. Inside, the walls were adorned with chalk drawings from children and vibrant murals from the town's artists. These cheerful images served as a reminder of what he was protecting, and why he had chosen to become a Gaunt Hunter in the first place.
Reaching the west side of the wall, Finn began his patrol, moving back and forth to ensure no Gaunts were attempting to scale the barrier. For now, the night was quiet, and he hoped it would remain that way.
As he walked his beat, his thoughts drifted back to dinner with Eric and the boy's enthusiastic declaration about becoming a Gaunt Hunter. While part of him felt honored by Eric's admiration, another part was deeply troubled. The life of a Hunter was dangerous and filled with horrors that no one should have to witness, let alone a young boy like Eric.
Finn's mind flashed back to a particularly gruesome memory from a past patrol. He and another Hunter had been called to assist in repelling a large pack of Gaunts. They had rushed to the scene, only to find their comrades dead, slaughtered in horrific ways. One Hunter's skull had been cracked open, with Gaunts eating from it as if it were a bowl of grapes. Another Hunter, still alive, was being disemboweled and devoured. Finn could never forget the man's agonized expression as he watched his own entrails being torn apart and consumed. The sight had been so revolting that Finn had vomited on the spot, paralyzed by shock until his partner snapped him back to reality.
Then there were the stories he had heard from veterans like Dick. Dick once recounted an incident where a Hunter had been speared to death by multiple Gaunts. They hadn't even eaten him; they had just impaled him repeatedly, leaving his body to rot in the woods for days. Such tales highlighted the Gaunts' malevolence and complete lack of empathy.
Finn shuddered at the memories. He didn't want Eric to face such nightmares. The boy was full of life and potential, and Finn couldn't bear the thought of him enduring the same horrors he had.
Since that harrowing incident and the chilling story Dick had shared, Finn had sworn to himself that he wouldn't meet a similar fate. He vowed to go out fighting, to not end up like those other hunters. He couldn't bear the thought of becoming another victim, especially after what happened to his sister.
The sudden howl nearby jolted Finn out of his grim thoughts. The sound was close—too close. Instantly alert, he scanned his surroundings. Just then, something whizzed past his face, slicing his cheek. He turned to see a makeshift arrow embedded in the wall. Spinning back around, his heart sank as he saw ten Gaunts emerging from the tree line.
"Shit!" Finn cursed, his eyes widening in horror. This was a dire situation. He quickly drew his Glock and aimed at the advancing creatures. Before he could fire, a sharp pain seared through his left side. He glanced down to see a small dagger lodged in his torso.
'What the hell?' Finn thought, bewildered. 'Did one of the Gaunts throw this?'
"Sorry, but it's nothing personal," a strange voice echoed through the darkness.
Finn's gaze snapped forward, and he saw a figure emerging from the shadows. They wore a long black cloak that seemed to envelop them completely, giving the eerie impression that they were gliding across the ground rather than walking.
The figure approached him, their face obscured by the cloak's hood. "My, you are a handsome young man," they purred in a sultry tone. "Such a fucking shame that my babies must eat. We've been on the run, and they haven't had a chance to rest and eat until we saw you." They giggled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Finn's spine.
Fear gripped Finn, but he managed to look up at the cloaked figure with a raised brow. "W-Who are you?" he stammered, his voice wavering.
The figure tilted their head slightly as if amused by his question. "Who am I?" they echoed. "I am their mother, their caretaker. I ensure they survive, even if it means feeding them humans like you." The figure leaned closer, and Finn could just make out a twisted smile beneath the hood.
Finn's mind raced. He needed to think of a way out, and fast. The Gaunts were closing in, and he was injured and at a severe disadvantage. Summoning his remaining strength, he clutched his Glock tighter and tried to steady his breath. He couldn't let this be the end.
The figure's giggle echoed eerily through the night, sending a shiver down Finn's spine. "Oh! Now I'm regretting stabbing you," they remarked with a twisted amusement. "It's not every day a handsome young man asks me my name, you know? Most prefer a no-name policy." Their tone was cryptic, and Finn couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in his gut. "While I would love to give you my name in far better circumstances, I'm afraid I don't have the time," they continued, their words dripping with urgency. "As I said, we're on the run from a rather unpleasant girl."
Finn's confusion only deepened. The figure's response didn't provide any clarity, leaving him even more perplexed. As the figure began to back away, Finn's eyes widened in shock as the Gaunts beside them moved in unison. ‘She can... control them!?’ he realized, disbelief washing over him.
"Go ahead, babies... EAT!" the figure commanded, her voice chillingly calm.
With a sickening lurch in his stomach, Finn watched as the Gaunts surged forward, their hunger palpable in the air. Determination surged within him, driving him to fight against the odds stacked against him. Ignoring the searing pain from his wound, he raised his gun and fired at the approaching Gaunts. Despite his efforts, only one was hit, and even then, it didn't slow down.
Finn gritted his teeth, preparing for the inevitable close-quarter battle with the monsters. "Come on!" he growled defiantly. "I'm right here!"
The Gaunts closed in, their predatory instincts driving them forward. Just as they leaped toward him, ready to strike, something unexpected occurred.
Thorny vines erupted from the ground, snaking around the Gaunts with incredible speed. Finn's eyes widened in astonishment as the vines ensnared the creatures, halting their advance. The vines twisted and contorted, slamming the Gaunts into the ground with brutal force, tearing at their flesh and rendering them helpless.
" Damn! How did that bitch already find us!?" the figure exclaimed, frustration evident in their voice.
Finn's gaze followed the figure's gaze as a new figure emerged from the shadows.
Her appearance was striking, to say the least. With a spiky red Mohawk and piercing red eyes devoid of any white, she exuded an aura of fierce determination. Smudged mascara framed her intense gaze, adding to her wild and untamed appearance. Her lips were painted black, a stark contrast to her fiery red hair and eyes. Clad in a black leather crop top vest that accentuated her slim, athletic frame, she exuded an air of defiance. Arm bands encircled her wrists and biceps, resembling the wraps worn by boxers, hinting at her combat prowess. Around her neck, she wore a large choker, adding to her rebellious demeanor. Her attire was completed by tight leather pants and high-heeled platform boots, giving her an imposing presence.
"Found you, ya freaking cunt!" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
The cloaked figure retreated, increasing the distance between them and the girl. "Ugh, don't you ever give up?" they retorted, their tone tinged with irritation.
The girl leveled a fierce glare at the figure. "After the shit you've done!? I ain't letting you go!" she declared, her voice dripping with disdain.
The figure let out a mocking giggle. "Is that so?" they taunted, gesturing toward Finn who lay wounded on the ground. "Not even to save his life?"
The girl's gaze shifted to Finn, her expression softening momentarily as she registered his injuries. Before she could react, a shrill howl pierced the air, drawing their attention back to the figure.
"What the hell did you do!?" the girl demanded, her voice trembling with rage.
"Oh, just called in a few friends over for dinner," the figure replied casually.
"You bitch!" the girl seethed.
With a swift motion, she thrust her hand forward, summoning a massive vine with thorns protruding from its surface. The vine lunged toward the figure, but they evaded the attack with agile grace, darting away through the forest.
"Have fun~!" they taunted, their laughter echoing through the trees as they disappeared into the darkness.
Driven by determination, the girl pursued the figure, her footsteps echoing through the forest. However, her path was suddenly obstructed as a horde of Gaunts emerged from the shadows, blocking her way with menacing snarls and bared teeth.
"Get out of my way!" the girl cried, her voice ringing with determination.
In an instant, a smaller thorned vine shot out of the ground with startling speed, piercing through the approaching Gaunts like a bullet. Lifted into the air by the force of the vine, the creatures were hurled aside, crashing into trees with bone-crushing force.
As more Gaunts emerged from the shadows behind her, four shots echoed through the air. Finn's aim was true, striking the advancing Gaunts and causing them to writhe in agony as they fell to the ground. The girl glanced back to see Finn's timely intervention, offering a silent nod of acknowledgment before focusing her attention back on the remaining threats. Summoning more vines, she ensnared the creatures, tearing them apart with ruthless efficiency.
Satisfied that the immediate danger had passed, the girl turned back towards Finn, who was now sitting against the wall, applying pressure to his wound.
Bending down beside him, the girl flashed a smile, revealing sharp triangular teeth reminiscent of a shark. "Nice shooting there, dude. Really saved my ass back there," she remarked.
Finn managed a weak chuckle. "I should be thanking you. If you hadn't shown up, I'd be Gaunt food," he admitted.
"Let's call it even, then, eh?" she suggested. "What's your name?" she inquired.
Finn met her gaze, taking a moment to catch his breath before responding. "Finn, Finn Tresscoat," he introduced himself. Curiosity burning in his eyes, he posed a question in return. "Who are you? No... What are you?" he asked, unable to shake off the mystery surrounding her.
The girl maintained her enigmatic smile, meeting his gaze with her striking red eyes. "The name's Rachel Rose," she revealed. "As for what I am, well... I can answer that once you're all patched up," she added cryptically.
Summoning another vine, Rachel gently lifted Finn to his feet, supporting him as they began to make their way back towards town. With each step, Finn's mind buzzed with questions, the mysteries surrounding Rachel and her abilities swirling in his thoughts. Who was the cloaked figure? How did they control the Gaunts? And most pressing of all, who—or what—was Rachel, and how was she able to command those vines with such ease?
As they walked back toward town, Finn couldn't help but feel the weight of exhaustion settle upon him, both physically and mentally. His thoughts swirled with questions about the events that had just transpired—about Rachel, the cloaked figure, and the unsettling abilities they both possessed. Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, one pressing question emerged, demanding attention above all else.
'When the hell am I gonna get another day off? Because I can sure as hell use it right now...!' Finn thought to himself, his weariness palpable.
Rachel, walking beside him, seemed to sense his inner turmoil. Casting him a sidelong glance, she offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Finn. You'll have your chance to rest soon," she assured him, her voice carrying a note of empathy.
Finn managed a weary smile in return, grateful for the reassurance. Despite the gravity of their situation, her words offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that loomed over them…

During our (25f, 35m) almost two years together, he:

• Undressed me and had sex with my limp body after I told him "not right now" (I had just accidentally hit a cat with my car a few hours before, and I was a mess because of that). I was crying and covering my face with my hands, and I was too mentally exhausted to push him off of me or do anything. He later said he wasn't aware I was crying.
  
• Forced me several times to have sex when he was drunk and I kept saying no because I felt uncomfortable with him being drunk. The only time I resisted, he became so heartless, cold and sulky, which caused me to burst into tears and have a huge fight which I honestly thought would be the end of the relationship (it wasn't).
  
• Would "jockingly" punch my arms or thighs, slap the back of my neck, push me down, pull my hair, etc. He even left bruises once or twice, but that's just because I don't get bruises easily. Whenever I said it hurt and asked him to stop, he said it couldn't possibly hurt since he wasn't actually hitting me, he was just playing. If I tried to hit him back in the same "jocking" manner, he would hit me harder.
  
• Constantly criticized my looks. "why don't you put on some make up? Why don't you cut/dye/style your hair? Look at your colleagues, they take care of themselves, don't you want to look like them? Don't you want to be a lady? Why don't you want to have breast surgery to fix those uneven boobs?". I had clean yet baggy clothes, I showered twice a day, used deodorant, washed my hair, flossed and brushed after every meal. I just don't look anything like the models and porn actresses he is obsessed with.
  
• Withheld affection. He would literally shove me and push me when trying to hug him, telling me to leave him alone. He wouldn't hold my hand, no goodbye hug, nothing. It took over half a year to get him to cuddle sometimes. Most of the time, I have to beg, literally beg him to let me hug him for just 2 seconds. He is always in a hurry or not in the mood for being touched.
  
• Gave me the silent treatment/disappeared for days and weeks. During this time, I couldn't sleep or eat, my heart was racing and my mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of how I may have hurt him, how I should've behaved differently, how it's my fault he is upset. Before we were serious, he ghosted me on New Year's Eve and came back after 3 months.
  
• Would constantly hurry me, walk ahead of me, not wait for me, cut me off when walking down the street and had to make a turn, even though I repeteadly told him it was bothering me.
  
• Would always tell me I'm stupid and immature for liking flowers, bugs, anything nature. Criticized me for taking too many photos of every little thing, for picking flowers, for everything "soft hearted". He always shuts me down when I try to tell him about a trip I've been on or show him photos (and he never wants to come with me when I invite him).
  

Finally, the last straw was how he treated my dogs. I have one senior dog, Jack, and I also recently adopted one year old Nero, who was found abandoned and injured.
My boyfriend very much disliked my older dog. He would say Jack is just a mutt, he is ugly, fat and old, and I should just take him to the slaughterhouse or something. He made stupid jokes like this all the time. He told me not to let Jack sit in front of him because he didn't want to have to look at him and couldn't stand him.
With my younger dog, that's a different story. Nero is likely not a mutt, he appears to be purebred. My boyfriend liked him because of that, so he would eagerly ask to hold Nero when we were walking the dogs. From the very beginning he treated him roughly though. He would forcibly pick him up, throw him around, set him off on cats, push him, shove him, pull onto the skin on his back and neck, etc. I asked him not to roughhouse the dog like that all the time, or at least keep it light, because all it did was teach the pup to be agressive, but he wouldn't listen.
What he did yesterday made my blood boil with rage. He picked Nero up and literally threw him onto Jack's back. Of course Jack started yelping and tried to bite Nero. I snapped. That was the only time I ever yelled at my boyfriend. I screamed at him at the top of my lungs, asking if he's an idiot. Jack is old, his legs are achy, and my boyfriend just threw another fully grown dog onto his back. Moreover, I've been struggling to make the dogs get along and live together, and now you're trying to pit them against each other?!?
After the initial shock and rage, I asked him to apologize at least. He refused. He said he had done nothing wrong. He thinks I'm too soft, I treat those dogs too gently, it's ok to play roughly, they're dogs afterall, it's not hurting them.
It's funny how he could abuse me in any way possible, and I let it go on, I even tried to justify his abusive ways. He took so much from me, my enthusiasm and love for everything I once enjoyed. But when it came to my dogs, I just snapped. When things got physical with my dogs, I finally found it in me to fight back. Now I think this young pup and I were meant to meet and save each other.