I’m trying to get a cordless vacuum. Which one of these would you buy?

• m18 brushed non-fuel 2 Gal for $85 after hack
• m18 brushless Fuel 6gal for $135 after hack
• m18 Brushless fuel 2.5 gal not hackable (199$)

I’m thinking the 6 Gal is better due to brushless + size but it might be too large for my use case, although it’s never a bad idea to have a larger sized vacuum. I imagine I’d be using it for cars, drywall, sawdust, mostly smaller things. I don’t frequently do larger work but do them a couple times a year, where I’d vacuum a room floor maybe.
There’s also a 2.5 Gal brushless fuel version. Does this one ever go on sale/ become hackable? This would be ideal since brushless seems to be better.
Has anyone chosen between these vacuums and which one did you get?

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 240: Private Gallery
My, how quaint.
An underground maze.
If it wasn’t dark towers laden with bats, it was underground mazes filled to the brim with all the upholstery recovered from the Summer Solstice Festival’s annual bonfire.
Here beneath a barn utilised as little more than a cellar door, black was still the new black. An unending panorama of dark embroidery and furnishings to match any budding empress’s humble beginnings, ensuring I remained busy offering all the slightly different variations of wrinkling my nose could perform.
The porcelain vases featuring motifs of the wrong season? A mild scrunch. The candelabras burning below 98% of their height instead of being immediately replaced? Hints of a sneeze. The golden silk carpets clearly stolen from the cathedrals of the Holy Church? … A nod of my head.
But what I could have no complaints about was a door still swinging upon its hinges.
Poetry in motion, it painted the picture of a baroness desperate in her haste to stumble over her dress as much as humanly possible. Excellent news. We didn’t need to break another door today.
A surprise.
After all, the baroness seemed intent on breaking everything herself.
Bwoomph.
The sound of a heavy object being dropped came crashing through.
And then another. And another.
A commotion to rival the scuffling of two rival sons at our reception hall. The cadence of chairs, small tables and then backsides falling to the ground as insults became slaps and slaps became a scene of disgrace, all the while my sisters and I watched and snacked on the walnuts.
Sadly for the baroness, I chose not to stand idly by as she roughly squirrelled away her stolen possessions. And neither did Coppelia, who rubbed her hands together in gleeful expectation.
It was still the most innocent gesture she’d ever made.
“Should we let her gather up the loot pile some more?” she asked brightly.
I shook my head at once, my nose aching from the ceaseless wrinkling.
“Absolutely not. Even a moment is too long in this burrow.”
“We could double back and ominously stamp our feet to make her go faster, too.”
“Or we could merely offer our supervision instead. Come. It’s time to end our stay in the countryside. As well as this baroness’s grand misadventure.”
Already dreaming of my bed, I lightly pushed the door open.
A moment later, I was met by the sight of an adventurer’s most wanton dream come to life.
Within the centre of a bedroom chamber, chests laden with silver and gold crowns sat waiting for the first lout to claim as hardship expenses for chasing cats in an endless circle. The chests gleamed with an organised lustre, winking in unison as though counted and arranged to the coin.
It was a sight which contrasted with the desperate movements of the baroness.
Only brief snippets of her could be seen as she went to-and-fro in another room, accessed through a parted bookcase. Through the opening, I heard hints of calamity. Heavy banging as objects crashed to the floor, joined by the sound of ragged breathing to match a servant dashing up and down my bedroom tower to fetch grapes for me in quantities of one.
“Haah … haahh … hahhh …”
And now my curiosity was kindled.
Things worth more than chests of crowns. What could she possess, I wonder?
Sweeping past the gleaming pile of silver and gold, I made my way towards the parted bookcase, and then peeked through to see our baroness performing one last act of defiance.
With her golden hair as dishevelled as her dress, she was kneeling beside an assembled pile of what were unmistakably paintings. A veritable mountain of them, all framed in gilded brass. The scent of oil, watercolours and various pigments struck me more than any whiff of alcohol I’d experienced today.
Clearly a gallery of sorts. A secondary trove of treasure, but no less valuable. Rare paintings were worth their weight in silver and gold as much as any of the coins gathered in the chamber.
And also, to my horror, much easier to destroy.
“Haah … haahhh … hahhhhh …”
The baroness didn’t even notice our presence.
So absorbed was she in her final act of petulance, her only concern was to raise her feeble arms, weakened by all the disdain it required to gather so many heavy paintings in one spot.
All to set it alight.
With a look of desperation on her face, she raised a single candle, readying to set the oil upon the canvasses ablaze.
“Noooooope~”
“–Aah?!”
The same candle which was promptly plucked from her hand by Coppelia, who required no prompting to stop the destruction of precious treasure.
The baroness jolted in shock at Coppelia’s sudden appearance behind her, and even more so at the playful smile leaning towards her. A heartbeat later, she swiped at the candle, tearing away the topmost half. But it was too late.
The flame had already been extinguished.
“Noo … nooooooooooooo!!”
The baroness cupped her hands around the top, offering a tiny breath as she hoped to ignite it like the fading embers of a hearthfire.
She failed.
I took a step into the hidden gallery, ready to offer the coup de grâce to round off this minor detour into my countryside. A final reminder to my kingdom’s nobility, that whatever their rank, none were too lowly to be ignored.
“Ohhohohohohoho … how pitiable,” I said, my hand barely covering my lips. “Instead of a vain attempt to flee, you choose mindless destruction instead. I suppose I’ve no grounds to fault on this. You were wildly successful. Only that it was your own schemes which came to ruin.”
I gazed at the crumpled heap of the baroness as she turned around.
Her grey eyes widened as she viewed me.
All of a sudden, what colour remained upon her face drained to the point where if she threw herself on her bed, she’d be invisible against the white linen. Her only method of escape remaining.
It certainly wasn’t in the gurgling she made.
“Ah … n-no … wait …”
Her voice petered out, whatever words she spoke fading like a mousy squeak in the distance.
Ugh. The standards I endured.
Despite attempting a final act of spite, she didn’t even have enough vigour left in her to transfer that into the most cursory of insults.
“Now, this right here is what separates the barony from the city nobility,” I said, well and truly exasperated. “You may despise your peers, but know that Lady Tolent and Duke Valence at least performed their roles as expected. They were rude until the end. You’ve a considerable amount to learn.”
With a sigh, I took a step towards the mound of portraits.
Given what I’d seen so far, I doubted if any painting here was worth what the baroness deemed worthy enough to hide away like a dragon’s favoured treasure. But I was open to being pleasantly surprised.
Who knows? Perhaps she’d pilfered more than carpets from the Holy Church.
However–
“Wait!!!!!”
The baroness scrambled to her feet, arms raised as she blocked my path.
Despite her sudden burst of life, no colour returned to her face. It was like a ghoul raised as a puppet, desperately heeding the command of its owner.
“You … You can’t look!” she said, quivering. “None of this … none of this is for you!”
My mouth widened at the gall.
… Why, so she did have some insult left in her!
To insinuate I wasn’t worthy of judging these paintings was far more wounding than any generic disdain she could level against my superior wealth, standing, beauty and shape of my hair!
After all, I was exceptionally confident in my curating skills!
Anything less would see my own works being met by a chorus of snivelling! Amongst all who resided in my kingdom, it wasn’t traitors who were the most fearless to my ire! It was art critics!
“E-Excuse me! Rest assured that I’m more than capable of judging the qualities of any painting! When it comes to my assessment of art, my valuation leaves no detail unturned!”
Somehow, the baroness paled even more. Her eyes quivered like ponds in a gale.
A moment later–
“You can’t!!!!”
She threw herself at me.
A slow, lumbering tackle to match her anaemic state. I stepped to the side as she hurled herself past me, falling to a heap by Renise’s feet.
The maid looked down. She didn’t wear a single hint of animosity. Only pity and sorrow. Truly, she was too kind to ever have been in the nobility. I feared for her current role.
Still, I gave a sigh, before leaning over the mountain of paintings.
“Uwah~ this is a new one.”
As the light from the doorway fell upon it, Coppelia offered a hint of what was to be expected. She wore a peculiar expression, her smile oddly fixed as she gazed down at the nearest one to face upright.
I joined her.
And then–
“Hmm.”
I blinked as I assessed it.
A moment later, I glanced over those nearby. And then those nearby them.
Not only paintings. But portraits.
All featuring the same subject. A girl with long, dark hair and vivid eyes.
Many featured a dress hinting at a summer’s day. Shafts of golden sunlight was a common theme, along with a backdrop of a pristine tea table, laden with a familiar array of confectionery. Carrot madeleines and carrot cakes. The same ones I tactically placed for everyone else to eat at my mandatory tea parties.
Indeed. That made sense.
Since this was assuredly my tea table being presented. And that girl with a pleasant smile, unblemished features, a regal bearing and warmth radiating from her very presence was me.
I dug inside the mountain of portraits, lifting up another at random.
Yes.
It was me. Again.
In fact–
Every single portrait in this heap was of me.
At least a hundred or more. All framed and recently placed upon the walls of a hidden room. A private gallery to a baroness–one who was a keen painter. A corner had been transformed into a small workshop. Unlike the one found in her tavern, this one was far more organised. Easels and brushes were neatly tidied away, cared for as much as the paintings that had been created here.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!”
Ignoring the cry of despair behind me, I gazed at the heap of paintings, hand against my cheek as I considered the sight.
A short hum was all I required.
I turned to the stricken baroness upon the floor, her mouth wide as she waited for my judgement.
And then–
“Oho …”
I began to laugh.
“Ohoho … ohhohohoho …”
But this was no mocking laugh which spilled from my lips.
No … it was a laugh of pure delight.
“Ohhhohohoohhohohoohhohohoo!!”
True, nothing here was fit to be placed upon the Royal Villa’s walls. But few paintings were. This didn’t mean they were without merit. On the contrary, even a surface level impression of my face was worth more crowns than even a mosaic of the Grand Duchess completed by a thousand master painters.
But while better artists than her had painted me, few had painted more.
And this I could use.
Why … with this many paintings, I could fill up Soap Island with my imagery!
I could ensure that every tunnel possessed my permanent smile and watching eyes!
No matter where the soap miners hid, seeking respite from their days of hard labour and repentance, they could be met by the sight of my angelic face reminding them that I know and judge their every moment of unsupervised rest!
How … How wonderful!!!!
“A 7/10,” I declared. “Individually, they range between passable and acceptable. Except this one. There is something wrong with the nose. But when taken as an entire collection, the overall composition is greater than the sum of its parts. Alone, each is a verse describing a princess forced to adhere to her mandatory tea parties even as summer blooms a window away. But together, it is the sonata of a princess who continues in her duties without care to repetition or fatigue, reminding those whose hands falter when they should be mining soap that I do not rest, and so neither will they. Not an overly complex message, but then I wouldn’t wish it to be lost.”
Thus, I clapped my hands together in satisfaction.
“... Indeed, I shall put these portraits to excellent use!”
I waited for the gasp of relief which usually came with any of my scores which didn’t plunge into negative numbers. The baroness would not be destroyed by the world of fine art. Only ignored. The baseline criticism. She’d survive.
Providing, of course, that she ever woke from her stupor.
Looking down, I was appalled to see all the light had vacated her eyes.
Far from offering her gratitude, she lay collapsed in an untidy heap upon the floor, her body prone and motionless, her expression locked in morbid embarrassment, and with no signs of life other than the trail of drool which began to leak from the edge of her lips.
“Wow~” said Coppelia, leaning down to poke her cheeks. “You managed to kill her with just the laugh.”
I was appalled.
If this was the reaction to my satisfaction, I may as well be disappointed! That was always easier!
“C-Coppelia! I didn’t kill her! … Why, anyone who dies looking so slovenly would come back to life just to fix themselves!”
Also kneeling beside the fallen baroness, Renise gently shook the girl’s shoulder. Only a weak gurgling came out, wishing for an eternal night.
After a moment, Renise sent a slightly pained smile towards me.
“Um, by any chance … do you not have any thoughts regarding seeing so many portraits of yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well … do you not find it odd?”
I looked at her in puzzlement.
“... No? Why would that be odd? Isn’t it natural that people would wish to paint me? I’m a princess. And an excellent one, too. Better me than a fruit bowl, surely.”
Renise blinked … just before raising her hand to her lips in a small giggle.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Words which advanced her on my family’s career ladder exponentially. I nodded profusely.
Mreoow.
At least until an unexpected sound filled the air.
I looked around in puzzlement.
“... Did I hear a cat?”
“Mmh~” Coppelia pointed towards the faux-vault door we’d passed. “More than one. There’s a whole bunch being kept nearby. It smells terrible.”
I threw up my arms in exasperation.
Why, no wonder the baroness sought the bliss of unconsciousness! It was to evade my utter disbelief!
The absolute state of my kingdom’s schemers!
First Trierport! Now Hartzwiese! To think it was an epidemic!
Just what were these people doing?! Truly, it’s one thing to undermine my kingdom. But that was a pale crime compared to their feat of singlehandedly fuelling the existence of the Adventurer’s Guild!
“It must be Tantrum and Peppy,” said Renise, far less aggrieved. “As well as all the others.”
I directed my bewilderment towards her instead.
“What is a … Tantrum and a Peppy?”
“They’re the names of the deputy guildmaster’s cats. The ones she was looking for. We should ensure they’re rescued before the night is done.”
I shook my head rapidly. No, no, no, no.
“I am not rescuing cats.”
“Hm? … Why not? Isn’t that the job of adventurers?”
“No, that’s the job of drunkards who mistake the commissions plastered on walls for requests to save a kidnapped princess. Besides, cats hardly need rescuing. Whatever bonds they find themselves in, they’re more than capable of slipping free by their own endless guile.”
Indeed, our only danger was that we tripped over a lazing cat hidden in the shade!
It’s a wonder they hadn’t escaped already. By the time we were done, I fully expected to see cats causing anarchy as they reclaimed the town, mewing from rooftop and windowsill with barely held contempt for the very people who fed them!
… Why, they should be ashamed!
“I see …” said Renise, with a hum of uncertainty. “Well, I suppose they’re known for their self-sufficiency. But even so, I feel that we shouldn’t leave them in the chance that their artfulness fails. There’s a very dangerous forest between here and the town.”
Coppelia clapped her hands together.
Her interest in the baroness severed, she leaned towards her next source of amusement, her smile alive with all the usual colours of the mischief rainbow.
“That’s right~ cats are pretty smart, right? There’s no way they’ll be caught by the slobbering horrors devoid of mercy and compassion which I kept from eating us.”
“Coppelia, you frightened them away with sticks.”
“Exactly. Sticks thrown using opposable thumbs which cats lack. And that means they know where they are on the food tree. They’re gonna stay here where it’s safe, waiting for the dumb humans to come fetch them like they always do, even though cats do nothing but hiss and scratch at them.”
I gave a cautious nod … all the while leaning further away.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you agree. We’ve no need to lift a finger to rescue them.”
“Mmh~ but even so, aren’t you willingly leaving gold on the table?”
“Excuse me?”
“I bet every cat has a poster somewhere up in the Adventurer’s Guild. That’s a whole bunch of change you’re leaving lying around that could be used for our apple strudel budget.”
I was aghast.
Not only at the suggestion our funds went entirely towards the apple strudels she ate before I could even touch them … but also because I knew exactly what Coppelia was doing!
My keen eyes could see through her deep subterfuge!
True, it was only prudent to ensure our personal finances were as secure as possible … but even so!
I had my pride!
In my darkest dreams, I still recalled the shame of rescuing a warehouse of cats in Trierport! There was no scenario in which I’d willingly suffer such humiliation again! Once my dignity was stripped, what was I, but a beautiful maiden without equal?
Indeed, I had no doubt in my mind!
I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, would absolutely not resort to saving lost cats!
“The Adventurer’s Guild will never be happier,” said Coppelia brightly. “I bet that in less than a day, a literal army of adventurers will be swooping in to claim all the free cats for themselves. They’ll be everywhere. Literally everywhere. Productivity will be at its highest. You’ll be actively supporting the livelihoods of all those guys you see drinking themselves into a coma!”
Renise blinked, then looked at me with an expression filled with new warmth.
“Oh, I see! You intend to leave these cats behind to be collected by new adventurers. That’s very thoughtful of you. I understand now. This must be how high-ranked adventurers help their juniors progress and gain confidence in their skills.”
Renise filled the ensuing silence with her smile.
And then–
She slowly waved a hand in front of my face.
“... Miss Coppelia, why isn’t she responding?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Her cogs get stuck every now and again.”
“I see … ? Should we do something or … ?”
“Mmh~ I’ll scoop up the striped ones! You get the normal ones!”
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Chapter 1: Archenemies
https://archiveofourown.org/works/49222786/chapters/124201993#main
Eerie. That would be one word most travelers would use to describe nights in Transylvania. The year was 1887 in the middle of November where we find ourselves in the currently chilly region of Romania. Rarely would you ever be able to see the stars out at night due to the heavy mist nor would you get to see the morning sun due to the high mountains and thick clouds. It was a hard and gloomy place to live, but people managed. After all, it took a certain type of person to persevere through such places with many either succumbing to the harsh conditions or falling to the beasts that inhabited the lands. On one night in particular though, it was far more grim for a particular Roma.
Her name was Anna Valerious, and there she was, walking through her town seemingly aimless to the average person. It had only been a few days after her brother, the last living member of her immediate family, had seemingly met his demise, and Anna was in mourning. She had started slacking in her duties and found it harder and harder to get out of bed. Most of the townspeople understood her grief and managed on as best they could without her guidance, but in truth, they needed someone to look to more than ever; a leader.
Anna had eventually found herself at the town’s graveyard, downing a bottle of rum, and looking at the names on each headstone that carried the Valerious name until she finally found her father’s, Boris Valerious. It had been months since she last visited his grave with this also being the first time she visited her brother Velkan’s empty one, as neither Anna or her men could recover a body. She felt lost.
For so many days she struggled to wrap her head around her new reality. The last of her family. The honor and reputation of her entire bloodline is relied soley on her success in killing Dracula, the bane of her family’s existence, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she even good enough?
Anna always had a rebellious streak since she was a child and found it difficult to follow in the lessons her father tried to instill in her about the duties of their family as well as the significance of them. It was only after she witnessed firsthand just how ruthless vampires could be after seeing many of her own family die before their intended passings that she finally took her familial obligations more seriously. In spite of this though, Anna had grown to become the more brash between her and Velkan and while she was better at fighting, he was always better at making plans as well as keeping good relations with the people. He was her overprotective and supportive big brother and she’d always love him for that.
She hated that he was gone, that he had left her, and that it was her plan that ultimately got him killed. She was angry more than anything as she looked up to the sky, praying for the answers as to why it had to be her, fighting back her tears as best as she could. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden gust of wind followed by a sultry voice.
”Your sorrow was too intoxicating for me not to find you so easily princess.”
It was Aleera, one of the three brides of Dracula appearing seemingly out of thin air, and one of Anna’s greatest enemies. Her fiery red hair flowed in the wind and eyes flaring their unique indigo with dangerous intent as she slowly approached the princess; a lopsided smirk formed on her lips, basking in the burning anticipation of the confrontation that was about to take place.
Aleera had made a sort of routine out of coming to see the princess at random times over the years. Using whatever excuse she could to leave the castle to see her foe with her intention being to antagonize Anna. The main reason though, being that she actually wished to see her. Not that she believed that anyone would ever understand or that she wanted anyone to. After all, they were supposed to be archenemies or so that’s how Aleera presented there dynamic; claiming that she’d often fantasize about the taste of Anna’s blood or how one would eventually kill the other and how it seemed oh so thrilling whenever they did fight. So it was completely understandable for the few who believed her reasoning. After 100’s of years of boredom, no one had ever gotten her as excited or as invested as Anna did in her development.
In truth, she hadn’t thought much of the girl when she was only a child, finding her impulsiveness and temper cute at best, particularly with how messy and unkempt her hair always was back then when she got into fights with the local kids. As she grew overtime though, Aleera couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Whispers of a temptation started to emerge; birthing a deep desire for the princess.
In moments like those she would wonder how easily it would be to take the girl for herself not just out of spite to the Valerious’s, but her own lustful desires. Imagining how strong she’d be as a vampiress and especially by her side. She would usually discard those ideas though, and simply resided herself to playing with Anna. Seeing how hard the young woman fought to stay alive, knowing that she could easily kill the princess in the blink of an eye; enjoying the fire that would burn within her eyes as she only got better with each encounter as the years passed. On the few occasions that Anna seemingly had the advantage, Aleera was clearly enjoying herself even then. That false sense of security that she provided bolstering the young girl’s confidence, it was….. adorable. Up until that overconfidence inadvertently bit the vampire in the butt whenever Anna got a lucky hit in and managed to escape her clutches. Not that the redhead minded though. She wanted to see her grow and blossom even further. In truth she couldn’t imagine spending her days not seeing the gypsy again as it became something of a light in her otherwise boring grey days spent at the castle.
Sure she loved her master as well as her fellow brides, Marishka and even Verona to an extent, but none of them had ignited the passions she felt when she was with Anna in recent years. She didn’t spend too much time thinking beyond her desires merely being physical, as anything else would make things far more complicated for her.
And here she was, looking for a fight with the princess as if it were merely another day for the two. Walking slowly and sensually as she eyed up her prey. Aleera did her usual taunting trying the get a rise out of the woman, only for those words to fall on deaf ears. That was, until she mentioned Velkan.
THAT was enough to catch the attention of the princess who looked up at the vampire with pure hatred in her eyes. It put Aleera off somewhat as the fire that once illuminated her hazel orbs seemed dimmed, a coldness taking their place. The vampiress said nothing after this, trying to focus on the battle that was about to take place; but this was no battle. Anna was sloppy and she moved far slower than she was capable of. Heavy swings with killer intent in mind, but no precision in her strikes. This was…..wrong Aleera thought to herself. The redhead being upset was an understatement.
After everything they’d been through, THIS was what Anna had to offer her? A pitiful display of swordsmanship as if she was the same rank amateur she was when they first met? Was she TRYING to piss me off? Aleera finally lost her patience as she grabbed the princess, slamming her hard against a nearby tree. “Surely no one would find your body before the night ends right?” She teased in a murderous tone. Anna barely struggled as her hands were placed over her head by the stronger female. “Oh do not worry my love, take comfort knowing I shall weep over your corpse”.
Aleera bared her fangs and screeched loudly to get SOME reaction from the princess again. Anna could only looked away with her eyes closed in shame. Aleera had mixed feelings about this. Why wasn’t she fighting back? This isn’t like her……
So many thoughts had been running in Anna’s mind in that moment though, but the one constant train of thought that kept appearing was that she was a failure. She was no warrior and so, she deserved to die such a pitiful death. She started apologizing quietly to herself as she heard the screams of her brother as he fell to his death at the hands of the werewolf. She remembered her father being whisked away from their home by Dracula himself never to be seen again. She remembered her mother who became sick and died bedridden rather than a warrior’s death. Everything she forced down to continue fighting boiled over to the surface as she broke into tears, choking on her own words as she waited for the redhead to finish her off, but then something unexpected happened. Aleera let her arms free. But Why?
Aleera’s face softened with confusion and concern now. She looked Anna in the eyes and nearly jumped out her own skin when she saw….nothing. There was nothing there, as if her soul had already left her body. And when the tears started to fall she couldn’t help but feel guilty.
She found herself split on what to do. She had already freed Anna out of her clutches, ending there “game”, and she was left to ponder what to do next. It had never truly occurred to Aleera how her and her family’s actions had truly impacted the princess until she saw how broken the poor woman truly was now. That vision of a strong brave warrior princess shattered before her eyes and was replaced with what she saw before her. She wondered when she must have forgotten what it was like to be human, to lose the people she loved. That part of her detested her past actions.
Every slap, every deep cut, bruise, or threat towards Anna came back in a flow of memories as she turned to look at the headstones of Velkan as well as Anna’s father, Boris, only reinforcing the feeling of remorse that had started to form in her stomach. She looked back at Anna who seemed hesitant to get up and try to either run or fight. Aleera was at a loss.
She wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She wanted to reach out to Anna to reassure her of something. Of what, she didn’t know but the desire to not see her in her saddened state was the driving force for her in that moment. Her fist was clenched from the uncertainty in her mind. They were enemies after all, right? Why should she care, and what could she possibly do to fix what’s seemingly beyond repair? But still, she couldn’t help but take in her scent more as she crouched down to eye level with the other woman. Her need to, at the very least, try inspired her to do what she did next.
Anna flinched when she saw Aleera raise her hand to her face but tried her best not make any sudden movements. Her heart suddenly skipped a beat when she realized what the redhead was doing. She’s, wiping my tears away? It was such an oddly comforting gesture that Anna hadn’t even known the vampire was capable of it, and yet there she was with a surprising look of empathy in her eyes as she placed a warm palm on Anna’s cheek. She was speechless.
She was initially dejected at this though, as she certainly didn’t want Aleera of all people to see her like this, let alone to have her take pity on her. And yet, when she saw Aleera’s hazel eyes had softened and no longer flared with murderous intent, she took pause and relaxed her body against her better judgement. Could think of worse ways this could’ve gone, Anna thought to herself. Before Aleera could say anything, her ears focused in on the princess’s heart.
Previously, even when they had been “fighting”, Anna’s heart rate was steady, but gradually dropped once she was at the vampiress’s mercy. Aleera had noticed the spike a bit after her hand grazed the princess’s cheek. Anna kept her eyes on the redhead, realizing that her gaze had lowered to her chest, making her feel somewhat uncomfortable. What the hell is she looking at? Anna thought, avoiding the lingering gaze of Aleera. Aleera had noticed the color returning back to Anna’s face and noticed the abnormal red tint that started to warm her skin. Was…was she blushing?
Such a small detail and yet if Aleera was capable of doing so, her face would’ve turned red at the realization as well. She knew that what she was doing may have been perceived as perhaps invasive, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Anna would react in such a way. Anna was clearly flustered right now, making Aleera smile slightly at the knowledge. A clear sign that some of the initial tensions had lessened. Anna’s chest started rising more noticeably as Aleera found herself leaning in closer. Her hand sliding down from Anna’s cheek and placing her index finger firmly under the princess’s chin now. She hesitates for a minute before looking back into Anna’s eyes, looking for approval for what she was about to do. What was happening right now, was the last thought on Anna’s mind as she realized that there was nowhere for her to go and that she didn’t want to leave in that moment. She closed her eyes in anticipation.
How could she feel like this towards someone whom she had grown to despise after so many years? They were ARCHENEMIES for God’s sake, these types of feelings shouldn’t even exist, but the fact of the matter was that they’d always been there ever since she first met the redhead all those years ago, and right now, in spite of there past history, Anna needed to feel that closeness desperately. With no one else to go to, Aleera was all that was left. She didn’t want to feel alone, even if it was for a brief moment…
Aleera felt a sense of satisfaction from how willing Anna was in that moment. No fighting, no snarky remarks, running, surprise attacks, just acceptance. What made this moment even sweeter was that the redhead’s desires were seemingly mutual. To what degree for Anna, she couldn’t say, but it was clear that at the very least, the princess wanted THIS as much as her…and yet, it somehow felt wrong to her.
She had dreamt of this level of intimacy with the gypsy far more than she’d care to count and yet for some reason, the moment felt cheap. As if she had caught the princess in an exposed state and was taking advantage of it. Then again, why should she care? This was probably the only chance she’d get to claim her, but for some reason, she actually felt a tinge of guilt. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time? Anna’s scent was intoxicating. A fragrance of perfumes as well as Anna’s warm blood flowed just beneath her pale skin calling out to Aleera as the lines between arousal and hunger became blurred for her, and Satan only knows what Aleera would’ve done to the poor woman if she didn’t have the strength to pull away in that moment.
She had to push away from the princess and cut off her breathing fast in spite of herself, something she didn’t take lightly. She felt her surprisingly fast pacing heart cease to move as she grabbed at her chest at the sudden brush of coldness that washed over her. She looked down at Anna who looked both confused and hurt in that moment. She had to ponder her next few words carefully.
On Anna’s side of things, she was internally frustrated for a number of reasons. What the hell was that? Anna was outright dumbfounded by her own actions, realizing that she wanted whatever was going to happen, and realizing just how disappointed she was that it didn’t. A chill that the princess hadn’t seemed to register at first, had suddenly swept through her body as she struggled against her instinct to shiver from the absence of warmth. Prior to closing her eyes, she stared back into Aleera’s and saw the desire that she knew she had for her, but there was also something else. Something more earnest that she couldn’t quite describe. Whatever it was, in that moment, Anna felt the absence of its inviting shroud and yearned to linger in its embrace, reluctant to let go of it. Whatever doubts she may have felt or fears she may have had had disappeared as she found herself lost in Aleera gaze. If this was another one of her little mind games, she had taken things too far this time. More than anything now, she was upset that the vampire had let go of her, as she craved it deeply after everything she’d been through in the past few days. Aleera owed her that much for interrupting her grieving. And to top it all off, she felt weird about the whole thing. She actually WANTED to be close to Aleera again and even looked up at with pleading eyes, hoping that the redhead would understand her plight.
Aleera always perceived herself as the type of person that goes after whatever and whoever she may desire. But if she had simply kissed Anna, what good would that do for her? Just another concubine in the long list of thralls she’s drained(in more ways than one) over the years. Anna was special and she knew it. And so, her lips started moving. She didn’t know why she was saying what she was saying or why she was saying it, but maybe, just maybe, it was what Anna needed to hear.
In spite of her being more than aware of the true fate of the princess’s brother, she didn’t want to kill the mood of the night and simply focused on Anna faltering in their fight. She expressed her personal disappointment with the gypsy and how she had a duty to everyone who had died before her, reminding her as to why she had been training and fighting her heart out everyday. And just as it seemed as though Aleera was about to leave, Anna finally asked her why she didn’t kill her. The princess wasn’t expecting the answer she received but in all honesty she should’ve known better. Aleera shrugged, telling her that she respected her too much to try and kill her at her lowest. That when the time comes to take her life, she wants her to be full of life like never before before she snuffs out Anna’s flame, snapping her fingers for dramatic effect. This revelation cooled the princess off quite a bit understandably.
She felt like an idiot expecting anything else from the redhead. She mustered up the strength needed to stand up while Aleera strained herself to remain in place to stop herself from helping her. She wiped whatever remaining tears were on her face as she stared the red head down.
With a newfound determination in her eyes, Anna welcomed the challenge, promising Aleera and herself that she would never falter again. Aleera was pleased by this resolve and gave a wicked smile as she took on her demon bat form, silently flying on into the night sky, anticipating their reunion.

Umm hello, please don't judge me harshly, I'm seeking advice. I am aware I'm fucked up badly. I will not be using real names in this. My cousin (M22) and I (F20) have been through a lot together. From abusive parents to being SA'd by another relative of ours. If my parents were abusing me he'd step in and fight them off or take the punishment with me. Not long he started lashing out at everyone and he became a trouble maker so they shipped him off to a military boot camp, that was the moment I knew I loved him. It was when I thought I'd never see him again. When he left my family used me as their punching bag, mentally and sometimes physically. So without his uplifting words or his distractions I started to find different alternatives to cope with the adjustment of his departure and the cruel things that continued to happen to me. In the span he was gone I tried attempting to off myself 7 times before I just called it quits (because I gaslit myself into him getting out and thinking we would runaway together)and started cutting and burning myself instead. Needless to say when he got out he changed so much. He didn't smile, he didn't look at me, I ran up and hugged him and he didn't react at all. He picked up habits like smoking and drinking. His physical appearance changed. He was stronger, buffer, and he had a sharper jawline. The man was handsome. After a week of him being back home he didn't come to see me and he didn't allow me to see him. If he did he'd be around the cousin he knew hurt me sexually. If he saw me get hit or degraded he wouldn't do anything but stare at them while I stared at him. What hurt most is when my mother made us all go to church and the pastor called me out because I wrote suicide notes to each of them and I had a failed attempt to off myself through her diabetic medication but for some reason I lived again. I remember taking the whole bottle and still waking up the next morning by my mother yelling at me for being depressed and tired. Anyway she took us to church and the pastor read the letters out loud and I was forced to kneel in front of the entire church and beg for an apology. My cousin just stood there staring at me again. He didn't react until my rapist started laughing under his breath so he let out a laugh that didn't sound like his regular laugh. This day I never forgot, the embarrassment the humiliation I felt. So I decided to run away that same day but didn't make it far because I got caught by my cousin, he didn't tell anyone but he made sure to keep a close eye on me. Half my family decided to move to California including his immediate family but he decided to stay I still don't know why. Years later (today's time/2 weeks ago) he confesses to me he is in love with me and he has loved me since we were children. For some stupid reason I believed him because those were words I've wanted to hear all my life. Even from back then he changed, he no longer looked at me, he just laughs or join in with their criticisms or insults. But at least no one hits me now. I decided to give this relationship thing a try and it was great, he even started to stick up for me again a little but he doesn't want to get me in more trouble with us being related and in love with each other. Or so I thought. He has a high sex drive and I thought it was normal because he is a guy and according to my mother men in this family does. The first time we had sex together he was rough, he didn't listen to my request or if I yelled at how painful it was, and I didn't even want to finish due to how much pain he left me in. I'm pretty sure it's my fault because I believed his lies still hold on to who he was before he was forced to leave all those years ago. He also didn't use a condom when I asked him to bring them. We got in a argument after and he said something that I don't believe he would ever do. The argument was because my guy friend from college texted me hey (despite me finding over 5 women in his phone) and I never answered him back because I know this guy friend wanted more than to be friends. So after he threw my clothes at me, called me a whore despite him being my first, and stormed out of my room I followed him to clear up what was going on. The words stung but I brushed them off. He was sitting in the living room and I sat beside him trying to get my point across until he said "We are fucking related, its not like we are in a real relationship anyway." That shut me up completely. My heart hurt and I cried on the spot. So I yelled at him for the first time (I said: What do you call this then, this was your first and last time with me you will never have access to me or my heart again) and he got madder. I have never seen him move so fast it was scary. He got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head and slapped me. The look in his eyes terrified me he said I belonged to him and he didn't need my permission to have his way with me. After he said that he kissed me roughly when I didn't respond to his kiss he bit my lip hard and I screamed in pain while he inserted his tongue in my mouth. The only reason he left me alone was because my phone started ringing and it was my mother who was calling to see if I cleaned her house, after I hung up the phone he started crying and begging for me to forgive him. I did. He still reminds me of who he was until he went to that boot camp. I still see it in him. Now its been a week since this happened and he has went back to his old ways of a high sex drive. He still doesn't like wearing condoms so he doesn't. He doesn't pull out though I tell him to and sex is still painful for me. After sex today he told me that I wanted it. He wanted me to have a baby for him, he wanted to trap me with him. I don't understand. I feel disgusted, used, and heart broken. I watched him get dressed and walk out the door with a smile on his face. I'm afraid if I resist his advances he'll take it without my consent and I'd see him just like every other abuser in my family. I'd rather it this way then seeing him as an evil person. I don't want to see him differently he's the only one I have. Is there any advice you can help me with? I'm almost done with my degree and it's not even in a career I want this is my mothers dream job. But I'm going to use it because I worked for it. At the moment I have no job and I don't think going to the police would help anything. What should I do here?

1. Is it wrong to have different strokes against top spin just cos of the height?
   
2. for lower bouncing, I do on the rise, short swing forearm flick. for higher bounce, it's like a flat slap, diagonal downwards, short swing forearm flick.
   
3. I do that for higher bouncing balls cos when I do the usual stroke for low bounce on higher bouncing balls, I feel awkward brushing higher balls, higher elbow feels awkward and seems to be impeding my ability to impart power on the ball.
   
4. if my bh stroke I'm describing on number 2 is an orthodox stroke, can anyone help me how to impart power when the ball is losing energy cos it's taken a bit later cos of higher bounce.
   

I've had my eye on the brushless m12 rotary tool since it dropped, and a couple weeks ago I finally pulled the trigger. I messed around with it at home for a bit, using a nylon brush attachment to clean out my sunroom door tracks. A few days later, I brought it into work with a drywall bit to use on some round can light holes so I could patch them in (they were getting deleted obviously). I made it through one and a half holes and it shut down. It had been on less than 2 minutes, but I gave it some time to cool down and it still wouldn't start. I took it back to the local hardware store I bought it from because they service and warranty Milwaukee tools. They swapped it out with a new one, and the next day I did the same thing and it took a crap even faster. I took it back again and told the guy what happened so he didn't think I was abusing it, and he informed me that drywall is "way too heavy duty" for it to cut, and that I would need to get the drywall cutout tool instead. He let me return it but I was severely annoyed. On Milwaukee's website, they show the tool being used for the exact purpose I was using it for! I get that dust could become a factor over time, but after that little use it seems ridiculous to me. Am I out of line here?!

As a general contractor, painting is one of the tasks we tackle among many others. However, it’s the job I dislike the most. It's tedious, time-consuming, and it seems like no matter who I hire, aside from myself, they end up making a mess and getting paint everywhere! Over time, I’ve found that having quality equipment makes painting much more tolerable. So, let’s create a list of the best possible paint equipment that makes the job easier and saves time.
When I started, I used a makeshift pole that came with my rectangle sander for my paint roller (basically a broomstick), a cheap generic roller cage from Home Depot with a 1/2" nap roller sleeve, a pack of value brushes, a plastic drop cloth, and a cheap roller pan. I've since upgraded my equipment, and here's my current setup:

My Current Equipment List:

• (2) Wooster Roller Cages
• (1) Wooster Sherlock Pole (4')
• (1) Wooster Sherlock Pole (8')
• (1) HP 1 Gallon Paint Tray + Liners
• (6) Canvas Drop Cloths
• (1) 9" Round Drywall Sander
• (1) Rectangle Sander
• (1) Pack of Sanding Blocks (Various Grits)
• (2) 6" Mini Roller Frames
• (1) Purdy Pail
• (1) Pelican Pail
• (1) Brush and Roller Spinner
• (10+) "Contractor Grade" Brushes (Various Sizes) from SW (Looking to upgrade these for specific use cases such as cutting, trim, etc. )
• (1) Large Container of Pink Stuff Putty
• (2) Sets of Plastic Scrapers for Drywall Patches
• (1) Set of Liners for Pails
• (1) Set of Liners for Paint Tray
• (2) 5 Gallon Bucket Roller Screens
• (8) 9" Microfiber Rollers 3/8" nap

I store everything in a single 25-gallon Husky tote, but I’m considering purchasing another one if it’s worth it. I’m looking to invest in high-quality items that stack well for easy transport between jobs.
What are your recommendations for the ultimate painting setup? Any specific brands or tools that have made a significant difference for you? Thanks in advance for your advice!

The gray wolf sits in the darkness. She looks back to see a blue crystal clock. The clock turns once and lands on one. One blue flame is lit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuZbmLLv1vM

As the moon started to set on the city, the sun started to rise from behind the mountains. A cool brezze flower through Mk’s window; waking him up. He lifts himself up in his sleepy state and looks around, seeing that it was early morning. 

“It’s seven? Might as well get up now.” He got up from bed and walked over to his window. He looked outside to see the moon out while the sun was still rising. “Oh cool. The moon is still out.”

Mk walks out the door and get’s in his car. He drives to the mountain. Once he arrives at the mountain, he walks up the stairs to Monkie King’s (Sun Wukong) training dojo. 

“Monkie King? Are you here?” Mk looked around and didn’t see Monkie King anywhere. “That’s strange…. He said he would be here.”
“And I am”, Sun said from behind Mk. Mk jumped and said, “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry, Sorry”, Sun said. “Ready for training?” Before Sun could take another step, he heard Mk’s bag ball to the ground. He looks back and sees Mk about to attack. “Guss that means yes.” Sun got into his fighting stance and started training in an instant. Mk and Sun continue to fight until Mk stands victorious.
“Yes!”
“Your getting better”, Sun said, picking himself up. He brushed off the dust and dirt from his clothes. “And your powers are getting stronger.”
“Maybe, but they’re not as powerful as you”, Mk says, giving praise to his teacher. Before Sun could say anything else, a crash could be heard from the city below.
“Not again….!”

My jumps down from building to building until he sees a huge demon roaring. 

“Oh come on…. Another demon”, Mk says in annoyance. Before he could act, a shadow figure enveloped by the sun jumps down and lands on a nearby building. They look up at the demon.
“This is gonna be fun.” The gray wolf raises her arm to the side of her and summons a claw-like weapon. “Now it’s time to go back to where you belong!” She jumps up and lands on one of the demon's extra arms and runs up to its face. The demon tries to shake her off, but the gray wolf jumps onto a nearby building and looks down on the demon. She jumps down once again and claws the demon’s face. From the impact of the blow, the wolf jumps up to the same building she was on before; her feet sliding against the roof. The demon roars in pain and agony until it disappears into the shadows. Magic surrounds the wolf’s claw-like weapon and it vanishes. “And that is how it’s done.”
“Wow, Monkie King, that was–”, Before Mk could say another word, he falls back. The gray wolf, wearied out by the situation, tries to walk away, but Mk reapers in front of her and says, “That was amazing Monk– O-Oh, your not Monkie King.” The gray toned wolf blinked a few times and then chuckled.
“Clearly.” The gray wolf looks at Mk’s staff and realized that the staff belong to Monkie King. She thinks, “How does he have Sun’s staff? He must be his apprentice.” She gathered her words and said, “You must be Monkie King’s apprentice. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have”, Mk asks.
“Yes. You're the talk of the celestial realm as of late”, The wolf says. She starts to walk away and says, “I’ll see you around, Mk.” Mk looked back at the mountain and then back at the wolf walking away. He looks at his staff and runs up to the wolf.
“Can you teach me that move”, Mk asks, his eyes growing big like a puppy. The wolf looks down and smiles. She then looks back up at Mk and says, “I’m sorry. I can’t. You already have a teacher. You shouldn’t go behind his back.”
“Oh… well, will I see you again”, Mk asked. The wolf looked back and smiled, then said, “Maybe one day.”
“When?”
“Let fate decide.”

“She what?” 

“She killed the demon on her own”, Mk explained to Mai. “I think she was from the Celestial Realm.”
“What did she look like”, Mai asked.
“She was gray toned and she had a pendant that looked like the moon”, Mk described. “She had gold eyes too.” Sun almost dropped the scroll he was reading and looked away. He could feel a bead of sweat running down his face.
“Hey, Monkie King, do you know who she is”, Mk asked.
“I-I have no idea who she is”, Sun said, acting ignorant. “And IF she was from the celestial realm, she wouldn’t have come down here. Beings from the Celestial realm don’t travel to Earth.” As Sun went back to reading his scroll, a bright blue light caught the side of his eye. The trio looked over and saw a blue lit portal.
“What the?” Mk walks over to the portal and puts his hand through. He goes to pull his hand back out, but the force of the portal pulls him in.
“Mk!” Mie and Sun try to pull Mk out of the portal but they all get pulled in.

A portal appears in the celestial realm and Mk falls from above. He hits the ground. He rubs the back of his head and looks around. 

“Is this… the celestial realm?”
“Mk?” Mk looks back to see the gray wolf looking at him from above. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s you again”, Mk says. “Am I in the celestial realm?
“You are”, the gray wolf says. “But right now, you're in the celestial forest. This is my domain.”
“I’m not here alone”, Mk says. “My friends are here too.”
“Your friends? Does that mean Monkie King is here too”, the wolf asks.
“Yes.” The wolf looks around for a moment and says, “Alright. I’ll help you find your friends. Follow me.”

Mk follows the gray wolf into the forest. Leaves the color yellow and gold fell to the ground. The yellow grass flows as the two walk. 

“Do you live here”, Mk asks.
“Indeed, I do”, the wolf says. “I am this domain's protector among all things.”
“Really?”
“Yes. do you know what an embodiment is”, the wolf asks.
“No”, Mk answered.
“Well, an embodiment is in charge of keeping balance in three places”, the wolf continues, “The celestial realm. Earth. And the lunar realm. There are many embodiments have different responsibilities for what they are named for.”
“So what’s yours”, Mk curiously asks.
“I am the embodiment of Luck and misfortune”, the wolf answers. She looks back and says, “We found them.” Mk looks down and runs over to Sun and Mai.
“Monkie King! Mei!”
“Mk!”
“Thank goodness you're alright”, Sun says. “How did you find us?”
“She helped me.” Sun looks up and sees the gray wolf looking down on him. Sun’s face turned somewhat not convinced and said, “So you came out of hiding, huh?”
“What are you talking about”, the wolf says. “I keep on the low because I don’t like to make a scene.”
“And look at what you did back on earth.”
“Mad that you didn’t kill a demon?” Mai and Mk look at each other and ask in unison, “Do you two know each other?” Sun and the wolf looked at each other for a moment.
“I will slap you, Sun”, the wolf murmured. Sun sighs and says, “She’s my sister.” Mei and Mk looked at both Sun and the wolf and said in unison and surprise, “WHAT?!”
“Yup, I’m his sister”, the wolf days.
“Little sister”, Sun clarified.
“You two don’t look related”, Mei pointed out.
“She looks more like our father and I look more like our mother”, Sun says.
“How did you even get here”, the wolf asked. “Last I checked, the only way to get up here is through the celestial gate.”
“A portal pulled us in here”, Mei said.
“Ah, I see”, the wolf said. “Those would be realm portals. They tend to pop up every now and then.”
“Can you get us home”, Mk asked.
“Well, you can’t go through the celestial gate”, the wolf said. “But there is a way to get you all back on earth. Follow me.” The wolf leads the trio to a wall. The wolf waves her hands in the shape of a moon and a portal opens. “There you go: one portal back to Earth.”
“Thank you”, Mei says. She runs over to the portal and goes through. Sun does the same.
“I guess I’ll see you soon, Mk”, the wolf said. As Mk was about to walk through the portal, he stops, turns around and asks, “What’s your name?” The gray wolf looked at Mk for a moment and smiled.
“Mischief. Mischief Wukong”, she said. Mk smiled and said while waving his arm, “I’ll see you soon, Mischief!” Mk runs through the portal while Mischief waves goodbye. Mischief, the gray wolf, looked at the wall for a moment and then walked back to her home. While she walked, a blue light whispered into her ear.
He’s the one….

Two young cheetah girls run to the front of a traditional, yet modern, Chinese house supported by a platform. 

“Do you think she’s here”, one of them asks.
“I don’t see her”, the other said. From the right side of the building, Mischief opens a sliding door. The twins smile and say, “Mischief”, In unison. Mischief looks over and smiles when she sees Clock Wise and Wise Clock.
“Hello you two”, she says, walking down the steps to the fence where the twins hunh off. “What brings you here?”
“We were playing in the forest, but we found something”, Clock Wise said.
“What is it”, Mischief asked.
“We don’t know”, Wise Clock answered. “But it was black, and it was covering the mushrooms and trees.”
“Black? Can you take me to where you saw it”, Mischief asked. Clock Wise and Wise Clock take Mischief’s hands and lead her into the west of the forest. Clock wise and Wise Clock point over to the tree covered in the black substance. Mischief walks over to the black covered tree and leans down on one knee. She looks at the black substance and her blood runs cold.
“Mischief? What is it?”
“Clock Wise. Wise Clock. Go home and don’y come back until I tell you it’s safe”, Mischief says. Clock Wise and Wise Clock nod their hands and run back to their home. Mischief gets up and summons her claw-like weapon. Black-like mist rolls in and stops at the infected tree. Mischief walks to the right side of the tree and yells, “Show yourself! You are in the domain of luck and misfortune!” Mischief stood in her defensive stance waiting for a attack. She narrows her eyes in agitation; her pupils becoming slits.
“So it is you. At last we meet again, Embodiment of Luck and Misfortune.” Mischief’s hair stood as she slowly looked behind her to see a bug-like demon smiling demonically at her. Mischief’s point-of-view goes dark.

The moon from above started to disappear from the rain clouds rolling in. Its brilliant light slowly becomes nothing but a dark shadow. Tang looked up at the sky as the rain started to come down. 

“I don’t think It’s gonna stop raining”, Tang says, walking back inside.
“I don’t remember the forecast saying it would rain today”, Pigsy pointed out.
“Well, what can you do”, Mei said. She looked over at Mk, looking up at the sky. She walks over to him and asks, “Are you still thinking about Mischief?”
“I don’t know why, but when I looked at her, it looked like she was in pain”, Mk said. He looks over at Sun and asks, “How come you never told me you had a sister?”
“You never asked”, Sun said. “And Mischief doesn’t associate with anyone outside her domain.”
“Right….” Mk looked out into the rain and saw a person walking to the entrance gate. But the person wasn’t normal. They had wolf-like ears and a wolf-like tale. A thunderbolt struck through the sky and showed Mischief hurt and beaten. Mischief looks up with her gold eyes as the lightning strikes through the sky and she mouths, “Help me….” Mischief falls to the ground. Mk and the others run over and help Mischief into the sanctuary. They lay Mischief up ugenst a wall.
“Mischief, What happened”, Mk asks with concern.
“He’s back….”
“Who”, Sun asked.
“The demon king”, Mischief answered in a hurt voice. “He’s the king of all demons on Earth and hell.” Mischief lifts herself up and walks over to the opening. “The embodiment of harmony banished him to the Lunar realm.”
“How did he get out”, Tang asks.
“I don’t know”, Mischief says. “He shouldn’t have been able to escape. He’s in the celestial realm, trying to destroy it.”
“Why?”
“Revenge, Sun”, Mischief says in annoyance. “He wants to destroy the celestial realm for what the embodiment of Harmony did. Mk, Sun, you two are the only ones who can destroy him.” Mk looks at Sun and says, “We have to go.”
“Mk, I don’t think this is–”, Before Sun could say another word, Mk interrupted and said, “This is your home we’re talking about! Mischief can't fight The Demon King. We have to.” Sun looks at Mk and then Mischief. He could see a lost and conflicted look on her face. He knew how much Mischief dedicated her life to protect the celestial realm. It was her home. It was his home too. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to the celestial realm. Sun sighed and said, “Alright. Me and Mk will deal with The Demon King.”
“I can take you to the celestial realm”, Mischief says. She takes one step but holds her arm in pain. Tang and Pigsy held Mischief up to her feet. “I’m fine. I can still lead you there.”
“No, you can’t”, Sun says. “Stay here and rest. We have more than one way to get to the celestial realm.”
“I’ll go with you”, Mei says.
“Be careful”, Mischief says. Sun looks at Mischief and puts his forehead to hers.
“I promise, I’ll come back”, Sun said. He looked at Mischief one last time before creating his cloud. Mk and Mei jump on and the three of them fly to the celestial realm.
“Please be safe…”
“They’ll be fine, Mischief”, Sandy says. Mischief looks up into the sky and thinks, “I hope you're right.”

The trio fly down to the ground and look around to see the trees and ground in a darken state. The trees were nothing more than shadow, and the ground was a dark shade of purple. 

“What happened here”, Mk wondered.
“I’m not sure”, Sun responded. “But this isn’t Mischief domain anymore. It’s not supposed to be like this.” Mei looks over and sees a trail of darkness leading to the upper side of the forest.
“Looks like the dark energy is going upward”, Mei says, pointing to the upper forest.
“Then let’s not waste any time”, Mk says.

The trio make it up to the forest edge and look around. Sun and Mk’s hair stands. They look behind them and see three glowing red eyes looking at them. Mei looks back to see Sun and Mk in a worried state. 

“You two alright?” Mei looked in their direction and saw a red face. The demon growled and charged up the hill.
“Run!” The trio run to the open hill. The Demon King whips one of his tales around and hits the trio back into the forest. Mei hits the ground while Sun and Mk both hit trees. Mk looks up and sees Sun in pain.
“So that useless embodiment sent you here”, The Demon King said, a demonic laughter following after. Mk lifts himself up and takes out his staff. The Demon King looks down at Mk and says, “The staff of Ra? Oh you have got to be kidding m–” Mk jumps up to The Demon King’s face and hits the top of his head. The Demon King holds his head in pain.
“What in infernos throne?!” Mk hits The Demon King back and he falls on his side. Mk goes for the finishing blow when The Demon King uses his over sized claws to pin him to the ground. “I have faced warlords, kings, and gods, and this is what I face? To think you could have been more than what you are now.”
“MK!”
“Mischief?” Mk gets up with what little strength he has left and looks up to see Mischief ghost-like rendition. “H-How? Are you dead?” Mischief rolls her eyes and shops the top of Mk’s head.
“I’m not dead”, Mischief exclaims. “It's an astral projection.”
“O-Oh.” Mischief looks to the left and snaps her head up to see The Demon King.
“Is that The Demon King? He wasn’t this big when I saw him”, Mischief says.
“I thought you fought him like this”, Mk said.
“No”, Mischief exclaimed. The ground from below starts to rumble. “There’s not much time. Mk, I can give you my power for a short amount of time, but you have to make the last strike count.”
“Are you sure?”
“You're more powerful than you think. If you can master Monkie King’s power, then you can handle mine”, Mischief says, holding Mk’s hands in her own. She lets go of his hands and takes a few steps back and moves her hands in the kanji moon. “Your will becomes strength, and my will becomes your power.” Blue and silver magic flows into Mk’s being. His staff turned blue. Mk’s eyes glow a brilliant blue and he looks up at The Demon King. “Now, Finish him off!!!” The Demon King looks down in confusion and sees Mk covered in a blue mist like magic.
“What?!” Mk jumps up and punches The Demon King multiple times and pins him down to the ground.
“This ends now!!!” Mk dashes down and destroys The Demon King in one strike. The Demon King looks over to Mk in a weakened state and thinks, “So the moon has chosen their champion…..” Mk lands on the ground and holds his head. The blue and silver magic flies off of Mk and returns to Mischief’s astral form.
“You did well”, Mischief said. She looks up and sees the sky start to become a light blue. She smiles and says, “Thank you, Monkie Kid. I'll see you back on Earth.” With that said, Mischief’s astral projection fades away.
“Mk!” Mk looks back to see Sun and Mei run up to him.
“Are you two okay”, Mk asks.
“Aside from the hurting back, I think we’re good”, Sun says.
“You fought The Demon King without me”, Mei projects.
“Sorry”, Mk continued, “It was happening so fast that I didn’t really think.”
“At Least The Demon King is gone”, Sun says. “Let’s go home.”

Sun raps up the last of Mischief cuts. 

“That should do it”, Sun says.
“Mischief, is there a reason you where on earth”, Mk asked.
“Yeah, I was wondering that too”, Sun says. “You never leave your domain unless it’s to see the council of balance.” Mischief looks away and sighs.
“Well, Since you did save the celestial realm, you deserve to know why I was on Earth”, Mischief says. “I didn’t come to earth to fight a demon. That day, when we met, I was looking for an apprentice.” Sun blinks a few times and says, “An apprentice? Are you sure The Demon King didn’t knock your brains loss?”
“I mean it, Sun”, Mischief says. “I was going to travel outside the city, but when I saw you, Mk, your power was far more powerful than I thought. Mk, I have chosen you to be my apprentice.”
“Hold Up!” Sun hugs Mk in a protective manner and says, “You are not taking Mk to the celestial realm! And plus, Mk already has a mentor: Me.” Mischief rolls her eyes, pushes Sun’s nose and says, “I don’t plan on taking Mk to the celestial realm, you goof. I plan on staying here on earth and at night, I will train Mk. And plus, the celestial realm has gotten a bit stale. You have room for one more?”

Mk’s hand glows a soft red from magic. Mischief’s crest appears and hovers on Mk’s back. Once the spell is done, the crest fades away. 

“That’s it? Mk is your apprentice now”, Mei asks.
“Yes”, Mischief says. “He is now my apprentice. What were you expecting?”
“A light show”, Mei answers.
“ Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Are you sure you're okay with this, Monkie King”, Mk asks, holding his right hand with his left.
“I’m cool”, Sun says.
“Don’t you mean hot”, Mischief teased. She laughed and Sun chased after her.

A being covered in shadows and mist looks at several maps with multiple dates on the top left corner. A red light whispers in the beings leopard ear. The being laughs and says, “So she’s finally chosen an apprentice. This changes nothing. I will have my revenge, and the moon will pay for what she did to me.” 

Here is the first chapter of Monkie Kid: Animal Fury. After seeing the fifth trailer of Monkie Kid season 5, I gave me the boost I needed to work on my AU story.
Monkie Kid: Animal Fury takes place in between season 1, and 2 of Monkie Kid.
Summary: As the journey begins, Mk meets Mischief, the little sister of Monkie King, Sun Wukong and their fate become intertwined.

TW: abuse
(Note: I have ADHD sorry if this is hard to follow)
(Edit: fiance and I are safe, back at our home and getting more on our feet each day. I'm working from home while getting treatment and he has a good job now we're very grateful. My sisters are also safe and able to contact me/drive to me if they need my help. I'll always be there for them)
About 5 months back my fiance and I moved in with my mother and stepfather for a week bit as we were behind on finances and couldn't afford to pay our electric bill. They offered to help, and we accepted making sure that we cleaned up after ourselves and contributed where we could.
Prior to this I had just been diagnosed with PTSD and was dealing with depression. I confided in my mom that I was going through it and that I was getting treatment and that my fiance and I were also receiving food benefits for the time being while I was getting back on my feet. After this she told me that "she wishes I would just stop taking medication and be happy". It upset me that she was minimizing my mental health but I brushed it of, assuming her intentions were good.
Fast forward a couple days later and I'm running errands with my mom and sister. (Im the oldest of 3 girls). My mom gets into a road rage incident and nearly gets all 3 of us in an accident because she was tailgating someone. We got home safely after but my mom was upset with my sister and I for not defending her actions. My sister consequentially was screamed at by my stepdad about how "disrespectful" she was being to our mom. I listened to this argument, not on purpose but because I could hear him yelling at her from where I was in the basement. It tore me apart to see my sister so upset and stuck in this home where I don't feel like she or my youngest sister are respected.
Later that day my mom seemed to lighten up. I was making conversation about food costs in our area (because I'm really cool) and my mom said "well maybe don't use your food benefits on fiance and you'll actually have enough to last you.". This really upset me. My fiance and I had been going through a tough time but we had always supported each other. We live together- of course I'm going to use it on him.
My anger was bubbling but I stayed silent. She then asked "did I make you mad? What did I even say?" and I responded "maybe we just shouldn't talk about things we don't know". That was not the move and she went into a blind rage screaming about how she wanted to hit me.
For a bit of context, her husband, my stepdad, used to beat the crap out of me as a kid(kicking, pushing, slapping, etc). She would usually just sit there and watch and I never really forgave her for it.
Her saying she wanted to hit me triggered me. I was in such a negative headspace and I just mocked her tantrum, packed my things, and my fiance and I left. I then blocked her and my step dad on everything because my mom was blowing up my phone and I just didn't want to hear it. My mom must've noticed and quickly removed me from the group chat where my extended family keep in touch.
Since, my sisters, aunts, and grandparents barely speak to me. My cousin invited me to his son's birthday party and my fiance and I attended and I felt like I smelled bad. Everyone was avoiding me/avoiding eye contact. I feel like no one would be willing to hear me out.
As I feel more exiled I cant help but think I'm the asshole, but my mom has had questionable behavior all my life and I feel like she goes out of her way to hurt me. I love her but I feel like she doesn't take me seriously or even care that much about me.
I cried on mother's day wanting to reach out to her but I am afraid to give her a window into my life again because of her attitude. I've been dealing with it for 27 years and I reached my breaking point. Ultimately I just want my sisters back, I love them so dearly. Any advice helps. Thank you for reading ☀️

I (17) have a sister (21) and she’s not diagnosed with anything (I have immigrant POC parents who don’t think mental issues are a real thing except for SUPER stereotypically autistic acting people - sorry if that’s offensive but idk how else to put it), but it’s obvious something is wrong in the head. She can’t socialize normally, she doesn’t know when people are annoyed/she doesn’t pick up on emotions, she copies every single thing I do, she throws tantrums (hitting me because my baby cousin hugged me first, screaming in the middle of the night because I forgot to put my clothes in the washer after showering, literally just constant screaming). I’m not gonna diagnose or assume anything because I don’t know enough about the whole mental stuff, but yeah it’s clear she has serious issues. She can function in society, like she can talk (even with her horrible grammar), walk, drive, and everything, but she’s insane. My parents don’t exactly baby her, but it’s very clear they either are blind to her mental delay or just choose to ignore it. Whenever she gets in trouble, they have to yell at me too, even if I didn’t to anything. When we were younger, my parents would sit us both down when we got in trouble and I was done getting scolded in 5 minutes, but my sister talked back and it took 3 hours on average (longest was 7 hours) and I had to sit there while she threw her tantrums. Other than that, she copies everything I do (she hated makeup until I started wearing it, she copies my style even though she body shames me and calls my clothes ugly, she calls my music “Americanized” then adds the songs I play to her playlist, she copies what I say word for word like an hour after I say it, she says she got waitlisted/accepted from the colleges I got into when I know she got rejected by every single one, and there’s more but whatever) I’m just sick of not being able to do anything without her copying me, and it genuinely makes me really mad. I know I have some degree of anger management problems, but it’s not controllable when you live with someone as fucking horrible as her. One of my friends who knows her and her antics literally asked me “How haven’t you killed her yet?” as in, how do I stand living with her. It’s bad. One time, she was screaming in the middle of the night because of something stupid and I told her to shut up before we got in trouble and that someone was going to call the cops on us, and my dad got really mad and basically said that he’d kill me (please don’t report or anything, I’m not in any actual danger. But yeah the anger issues are definitely genetic). And my mom just cannot understand boundaries, physical and emotional. I feel like it’s common sense to not bother people when they’re mad, but she’ll stand there and talk to me. Whenever I tell her that I don’t want to talk right now because I get in trouble for being mad, she and my dad both start screaming at me that I can’t have whatever I want and that I’m a horrible daughter, and they raised me better than I turned out. And my mom has a problem with slapping my butt and coming into my room when I’m changing. I know this is really normal in immigrant households and the country I’m from, and it’s not anything weird or gross, but I’ve literally told her to stop every single time, but she never will. I hate being touched (hugs, brushing up on people, literally most physical touch) because of this.
My parents also constantly call me a psychopath because I grew closed off and distant at around 15-16 after growing tired of everything at home. I tend to be a little cynical and mean because of how they raised me, but literally who calls their children psychopaths if they don’t do anything. Like I’m valedictorian, I’m going to a good college, I don’t do drugs, I don’t date, I don’t go out at night, none of the stuff teenagers do at my age and they still think I’m horrible. I don’t even do things that most people would call psychopathic. blood and gore makes me squeamish, I’ve never hurt people other than hitting my sister back, and I feel emotions.
I don’t know what do to at this point (as you can tell by my sad, pathetic post on Reddit). I can’t cut them off because they’re financially supporting my entire future and immigrant families just don’t work that way, you can’t just cut them off, but I’m also just bad at living. My parents have done pretty much everything for me growing up, and I barely know how the world works. I can cook, drive, and I have a job but I don’t know anything about credit cards, rent, cutting family off, or anything practical. I just want to get this off my chest. Sorry if this post is a little messy and hap-hazardous, I just needed to let it out.

This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

Recently purchased a home in a suburban community (AKA village as they refer to them) and found out one of the walls in the master doesn't have any insulation. I'm pretty handy and decided I would take down the wall and rebuild it the right way. While I was unloading the materials from my truck a "village" inspector was supposedly passing by and sees the drywall panels. Talk about bad timing.... He comes over and says any drywall work has to be permitted based on the village building code and slaps a stop work order on my door. Supposedly I cannot touch anything until a permit has been issued. So I apply for the permit for the work to be completed by home owner and they've responded by saying I have to register with the village as a general contractor, pay $100 registration fee, and obtain a surety bond for $20K before they can proceed with issuing the permit. Has anyone come across this before and how do you go about getting a surety bond?

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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So there I am, The Desi Playboy, back in my scrawny college days, just a couple of lean dudes fresh off a bar-hopping spree, chilling at the bus stop. Out of nowhere, this hulk of a caucasoid frat bro comes up, gives me a slap on the back that damn near sends me flying into next Tuesday. "Owww!!" I couldn't help but yelp. Dude struts past us, throwing over his shoulder, "Time to hit the gym, boys!!" I brushed it off, ego slightly bruised. After all, I'm the guy who’s been repping out with 20 lb dumbbells in my apartment gym like I’m training for the Olympics. That’s got to count for something, right?
Growing up, our idea of exercise was running away from aunties at family gatherings or maybe the occasional cricket match that was more about snacks than sports. The gym? That was uncharted territory. Our parents, bless their hearts, equated physical fitness with being able to sprint for the bus without wheezing. The notion of lifting weights, tracking macros, and chugging protein shakes was as alien to them as ketchup on biryani.

Attraction: It’s More than Just Physical

Have you ever had a girl flirtatiously squeeze your biceps, reinforcing the stud that you are? How about playfully slapping your ass when you’re not looking? That moment, my man, is raw, primal attraction at its finest—a kind of magnetism most men sadly never get to feel. Are you getting that type of attention from the ladies? Going to the gym and lifting weights is the first step into becoming that fuckable specimen. Picture this: you're strutting around, radiating confidence, and women gravitate to you, captivated, before you even utter a word. Arguably, muscles on a man is the equivalent of nice tits and ass on a woman. It's like you've got this invisible force field of allure, and all it took was a little sweat, discipline, and iron at the gym.
Think about it. In a world where first impressions are made in the blink of an eye, your body speaks volumes before you've even had a chance to dazzle with your wit or charm. It's not superficial; it's literally science. Physical fitness signals health, vigor, and, let's be real, the ability to handle business, whether that's lifting heavy things during a move or just looking damn good in a fitted shirt. An unfortunate reality is that women often manipulate men to get their needs met. However, men can simply manipulate the environment themselves to get their needs met. You think your crush is opening those pickle jars by herself? A nice, jacked body signals to women that you are good at manipulating your immediate physical surroundings.
So, if you're lounging on the fence, wondering whether hitting the gym is worth it, let me spell it out for you: Hell yes, it is. Not for the fleeting attention or the shallow compliments, but for the undeniable boost in how you perceive yourself and, subsequently, how the world sees you including women. It's about becoming a magnet not just for looks, but for respect, confidence, and yes, a whole lot of that good old-fashioned primal attraction.
Get ready to be the guy who walks into a room and commands it, not because you demand it, but because you've earned it, one rep at a time. Let's ditch the excuses, embrace the grind, and transform not just our bodies, but our entire damn aura. The iron calls, gentlemen.

Built Different

Our Desi genes serve us a mixed platter when it comes to body types. Some of us are fat fucks, while others are fragile twigs no matter how many samosas we demolish. For those of you guys on the overweight side.. Do you have Ananth Ambani money? No? Then you literally can’t afford that body if you want pussy. And if you can afford that body it is gonna bite you in the ass when you have heart disease.
Those of you scrawny sticks? Stop looking down at the more muscular bros and start looking at the women they’re pulling. Don’t get me started on that weird gray area a lot of us brown dudes fall into. I’m talking about the skinny fat phenomenon—a term as oxymoronic as 'jumbo shrimp'. It’s that peculiar body type where you look slim clothed but are a marshmallow in disguise. It’s the bane of many a Desi dude, a sneaky reminder of all those laddoos and no leg days. Ready to get rid of the bitch tits?
Look around at the next family gathering. Notice how cousin Rohan is built like a tank, but you got that uncle bod? That’s your first clue that genetics play a bigger role in this game than you might’ve thought. Tailoring your workout to your body type isn’t just smart; it’s crucial if you want to see real, lasting results.
Custom Cuts: Here’s the deal—

• Ectomorph Bros (The Lean Machines): You’re the guy who can inhale a whole pizza and not gain an ounce. Your mission? Focus on strength training to build mass and incorporate calorie-dense foods to support growth. Less cardio, more lifting.
• Endomorph Gang (The Easy Gainers): You look at a donut, and it goes straight to your hips. Your path? A mix of cardio and strength training to shed fat while building lean muscle. And yeah, keeping an eye on those calories is key.
• Mesomorph Legends (The Natural Athletes): You’ve got the best of both worlds but don’t get cocky. Balance is your best friend—equal parts strength, cardio, and a diet that fuels both muscle building and fat loss.

Alright, which of these body types are you rocking? Lean Machine, Easy Gainer, or Natural Athlete? Time to design a workout routine that suits your unique build. Yes, The Desi Playboy is dishing out homework, but trust me, it’s for a mighty good cause: to make you irresistible to the ladies. Now before we actually start integrating that workout routine let’s not forget to revisit the food on our plate.

Desi Diet Doom

The Desi diet is a freakin’ carb fest—a glorious, tasty trap that’s basically a middle finger to your muscle gains and fat loss goals. You probably recognize the following: plates piled high with rice, naan, and rotis, with a side of “Are you even eating enough?” from every relative. Navigating this when you’re trying to get ripped or ditch the belly fat is like being on a diet in a candy store.
Every meal’s a carb carnival, and while you love it, your body’s begging like, “Bro, where’s the protein?” It's like trying to build a house with all bricks and no cement. And oh, the ghee and oil. Delicious? Hell yeah. Conducive to abs? Hell no. It’s like slathering your goals with butter—tasty but terribly counterproductive. Add to that the mountain of sweets at every family function—those jalebis and gulab jamuns are seductive, but they’re saboteurs hiding in plain sight, wrecking your waistline one sweet bite at a time. If you’re gunning for that sculpted look, it might be time to negotiate a peace treaty with your sweet tooth and get serious about sneaking more lean meats and greens onto your plate.
Now let’s be honest, are you cooking all these Indian meals yourself? Or have you become completely dependent on your mom’s cooking? Is the extent of your cooking skills limited to boiling water and maybe, on a good day, making a mean cup of chai? Let me guess you top off the chai with some of Amma’s sweet sweet titty milk too? Listen up, because here’s the deal breaker—women are attracted to guys who’ve got their life sorted, including what’s on their plate. And if you’re letting mom choose whether it’s dal or paneer for dinner tonight, don’t be surprised if she’s also the one choosing your bride.
This, my dudes, is precisely why I’m all about preaching the gospel of DIY in the kitchen. It’s more than just about mixing spices; it’s about mixing independence into your life recipe. Grabbing the reins of your culinary journey isn’t just about impressing dates; it’s about fueling your body right, especially if you’re looking to bulk up and carve out those gains.

Protein Power Moves

There’s a way to keep the flavors of home without turning into a samosa yourself. It’s about being smart with your choices, making swaps, and still being able to face your grandma without guilt.
Lean and Mean: Start mixing in more lean meats, tofu, and legumes. Think chicken tikka, dal tadka with less tadka, and grilled paneer. Your muscles will thank you. But why stop there? Venture beyond with dishes like Thai grilled chicken or Turkish lentil soup. These global cuisines offer high-protein dishes that still dance on the tongue.
Smart Swaps: Ditch the white rice for quinoa or brown rice. Swap some of those rotis for a big-ass bowl of salad. Sprinkle some Mediterranean zest with a Greek salad, or bring a burst of Japanese flavor with a side of edamame. It’s about keeping the essence of Desi cuisine but making it work for your gains.
Supplement Smartly: Yeah, protein shakes might look like drugs to your folks, but they’re your BFFs on this journey. Mix that stuff with some milk or water, and chug. Think of it as a cheat code for muscle building—quick, efficient, and straight to the point.
Explore and Expand: Don’t be shy to sprinkle some culinary curiosity into your diet. Try Korean BBQ for a protein-packed meal, or if you're feeling adventurous, a Peruvian ceviche can offer a refreshing twist packed with high-quality protein. These flavors not only enhance your palate but also fuel your fitness goals.
So, there you have it. Turning the Desi diet dilemma into a muscle-building manifesto doesn’t have to be a soap opera. Keep the flavors, ditch the excess carbs and fats, and for the love of all that is holy, make protein your main homie. Expand your culinary horizons to keep your meals exciting and your body guessing.

From Diet to Dates

Alright, my fellow Desi bros, let’s wrap this up. If you’re serious about leveling up your game with the ladies, it’s time to get real about your diet, fitness, and lifestyle. Tailor your workout to your body type—whether you're an ectomorph, endomorph, or mesomorph—and make the gym your second home. Ditch the carb-loaded Desi diet for protein-packed meals. Whether you’re eating lean meats or are a vegetarian, make smart swaps like quinoa for white rice and grilled paneer for fried snacks.
Start cooking for yourself to fuel those gains and show you’ve got your life together. These changes lay the foundation for attracting women by boosting your confidence and health. The journey starts now. Let’s make those gains and turn some heads. The iron awaits, gentlemen.
Stay tuned for Part 2, where we’ll dive into lifting and integrating your workout routine to get you on track.
Check out the full article here: https://open.substack.com/pub/desiplayboy/p/iron-and-spices?r=k8bgi&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
For more such insights and to continue the conversation, follow me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/TheDesiPlayboy.

Asgard 1827
The Trial of Asgard made national news in Valhalla . Brunhilde stood there in front of many gods, each vote determining her faith . Does she live or die ? Only odin can make that judgment. Heimdall opened a pamphlet speaking though his horn “ Brunhilde, eldest sister of the gods ! You stand accused of crimes against Humanity and Goding alike ! How do you plead ? “. Brunhilde rolled her eyes before speaking her mind . “How do I plead ? What crimes are you talking about ? I was making coffee before me and Randgriz were arrested on the spot “ she spoke out . “ Don't play dumb Brunhilde I saw you cast forbidden spells and illegal magic “ Odin told everyone. Despite the bold straight up lie hilde remained as calm as ever . Using magic and spells is more for Gondul and she is too smart to get caught. What did Odin really want and why is he dragging Randgriz of all demigods.“Nonsense ! My sister would never so such a ““SILENCE “ Odin shouted but Randgriz stood her ground ready to face death itself to protect Brunhilde. Meanwhile in another area. Loki used his blades to slice the doors open splitting them in half. Beelzebub was in the middle of an experiment his red eyes shooting at loki. “This better be good “ he whispered. “It is Brunhilde and Randgriz lives are a stake during the trial “ Loki spat out in a panicked state . “ Why should I care about some demigod's life when I don't even care about my own? “ Beel questioned. “It's because I know you hate Odin and would do anything to spite him how dare he label you as a freak when he is just as bad “ Loki answered “ Hurry we are running out of time ! “ . “What do you get out of this ? “ Beel stood up . “ I owe Brunhilde a favor “ A flashback of small Loki almost getting eaten by a giant snake until Brunhilde saved him by slicing it in half with a scythe
. “Be more careful child “ she turned around seeing the scared loki shiver .
The flash back ended with Brunhilde standing off to Odin . “Confess your crime or serve death “ A purple hue spear floated over him. “ I choose death, “ Brunhilde replied. “ Brun no ! “ Randgriz screamed buy it was too late . The spear launched at her body with such force blood she was pushed back to the wall. Brunhilde refused to give up despite all the pain seeping into her. “ This is the end of the road valkyrie…” Odin whispering. The last thing she saw was the gods demonic smile before everything faced to black.
“Is she alive ? “
“Wait “
“What if he killed her ? “
“Wait “
“ Is she dead ?”
“I will slap you “
“Yikes chill emo “
Brunhilde woke up in the lab with purple ,red and green eyes staring at her. “ What just happened…” Brunhilde felt a tight hug from Randgriz “ You are alive! “ Grizz cried out. “Yes …I am …” Brunhilde realized. “However at a price ….” Beel commented . “What did you do demon? “ Brunhilde hissed . “ Weird way of thanking someone for saving your life “ Beel brushed that comment off. The valkyrie gave him a weird look , “ Don't mention it I only did it to piss off Odin “ Beel shrugged. “Wait Mr Beel what “price “ are you talking about ? “ Grizz asked. “Oh well being a demigod you are more human then god now “ Loki jumped in stuttering at every word. “Meaning you can't fly , super strength and speed is gone, no more soul connection or anything that would make you a valkyrie “ Loki explained some more “ I had to do something to get Beel to save your life “. “ I'm not mad Loki “ Brunhilde took a deep breath “ This is just a sign that I need to leave asgard now …” Brunhilde stated . “I'm coming with you “ Randgriz sat next to her “ If I stay I'm dead Valkyrie walking “. “Plus it's no longer possible to survive here, however despite losing most of your powers there is still a place for you “ Beel mentioned “ Loki will take you “ . “Wait, what about our sisters ! “ Randgriz started to cry . Loki and Beelzebub looked at each other. “ We will figure that part out but remember if Odin catches wind they die too “ Loki pointed out . “Yes but faking our deaths still sounds horrible, “ Randgriz shook her head. “ Alright I'll do something you will see them again soon “ Beel told her “ Overall you both need to leave as soon as possible “ . “Follow me there is not much time “ Loki used his magic to make a portal . The scenery revealed a large Eiffel tower and people walking by . “ Once we step in there is no going back “ Randgriz shivered. “We don't have a choice “ Brunhilde stepped in holding Randgriz hand to help her . “Even if we never meet again Lord Loki, thank you for saving my life “ Brunhilde bowed down. “ No Brunhilde…thank you for saving mine “ Loki smiled, closing the portal. “So this is our new home “ Randgriz looked around seeing things that just aren't familiar anymore .
5 years later 1832
Late in the afternoon at the Salle Pleyel concert there was the sound of the piano . The fast paced music made everyone in the area cheer . The musician had blonde brown hair that passed his ears . He waved it back and forth like a rockstar smashing his keyboards so hard you would think he broke them. The crowd cheered his name “LISZT LISZT LISZT LISZT “ , fangirls jumped up and down going crazy over him . Brunhilde and Randgriz sat down in chairs watching the man go , “ His music is very rough and insane ..reminds me of home listening to vikings “ Brunhilde mentioned. “ I don't know who is making me more deaf the music or the annoying girls “ Randgriz covered her ears, “If it's too much for you then why did you bother coming? “ Brunhilde gave her a look. “ I don't wanna be alone “ Grizz admitted, “By the way ,..why are you wearing a suit “ Brunhilde wondered . “ The human women show too much window and well sister you don't show just the window the entire frame is gone leaving only thin fabric “ Randgriz gave her honest opinion. “ I don't need a lesson on modesty “ Brunhilde focused her attention on Liszt who kept playing . His piercing green eyes gave her a wink . “Was he winking at me ? “ Brunhilde turned to Randgriz. “Probably or at the other women fawning over him “ Grizz stated . “Yeah you're right “ Brunhilde relaxed some more “Not like I care he is a massive playboy breaking one heart after another I'm not going to fall for that plus I'm not a noble “. “You are right Hilde you aren't..you are a demigod , from our divine perspective human nobility is just fancy talk for commoner” Grizz whispered.
“ Randy shhhh we aren't in Valhalla anymore “ Brun reminded her , “ If looks could kill you would be a serial killer by now “ Randgriz laughed “ I mean I'm not wrong if an Archduke came to Valhalla and started bossing everyone he would be laughed at “. That comment made by a few folks behind her gave the sisters an irritated glare . “Shhh “ a man right next to Randgriz silenced her with his white glove .The concert ended leaving Liszt to step off the stage . He was quickly surrounded by fans causing Brunhilde to leave until she felt something hit her. Behind her was a red rose , she picked it up seeing the musician wave at her before being surrounded by more fans . “Come on Brunhilde let's go, I don't like parties “ Randgriz dragged her out towards the concert halls . “Oof I'm sorry “ she accidentally bumped into the same guy that sat next to him. He was a short guy with a big nose that spoke with a thick polish accident. “Sorry I'm looking for a man named Liszt “ he mentioned. “Down the hallway but you are going to have to wait in line “ Brunhilde pointed to the left before leaving . The man thanked her before walking in that direction, “He is very cute “ Randgriz thought. “Eh …okay let's go home “ she walked with Randgriz.
A few days later Brunhilde went back to the same concert alone this time to attend a mass . There she sat down reading the holy Bible while waiting for the preacher . “ Excuse me, is this seat taken? “ a familiar voice spoke to her . Brunhilde turned around, seeing the face once again. “Are you Franz Liszt ? “she asked while watching him sit down. “Yes “ Liszt confirmed sitting next to her “ Nice to meet you “ . “ Yeah I see ..” Brunhilde stuck her head back in the Bible. “Sorry if I was bothering you “ Liszt apologized getting ready to leave . “No you weren't, I just have a lot on my mind “ Brunhilde sighed. “Oh ..I hope the church can relax you ..lift those spirits up “ Liszt gave a warm smile. “Yeah” Brunhilde half smiled back , “So where are you from? I've never seen you around? “ he questioned. “Oh I'm from - “ Brunhilde tried to think of an answer. “Don't tell me your from heaven? “ Liszt answered "Wait how did you -”Brunhilde's face turned red from the blushing. “ “ Relax I was just kidding c Liszt chuckled . “Oh right …hahaha” Brunhilde joined the laughter

Wondering if anyone uses the Airstrait for prep for heatless curls with robe ties, foam rollers, pin curls, or anything else. I don't like the pin straight look the Airstrait delivers but they have a video on their website showing the model pinning their hair under to give a little wave and bounce.
Right now I'm looking for a less damaging way to prep my hair for overnight curl styles. My thick coarse hair typically holds these styles really well. I HATE blow drying my hair and try to air dry when possible. Rough drying leaves my hair even coarser and frizzier and using a round brush has never been my skill set. If it takes too long I sometimes resort to a 10+ year old John Frieda blow dry brush that gets WAY too hot even on the lowest setting. I'm willing to invest if this is a healthier and faster way to slap up my hair in sleepytie or robe curler and go to sleep. Anyone have experience with this?

I’m always interested in hearing what other’s everyday, go-to makeup is!
Mine is:
Primer: Hourglass Vanish Airbrush
Foundation/skin tint: Hourglass Skin Tint
Contour: Westman Altelier (Biscuit)
Bronzer: Hourglass (Radiant Bronze Light)
Concealer: Dior Forever Skin Correct
Setting Powder: Givenchy Prisme Libre (Viole Rosé)
Blush: Hourglass (usually Sublime Flash, also have Incandescent Electra and Mood Exposure)
Setting Spray: Charlotte Tilbury
Finishing Powder: Hourglass (Luminous Light)
Mascara: Dior Iconic Overcurl Waterproof
Eyebrows: Benefit Gimme Brow+Tint
Lips: Dior Addict Lip Gloss (I have multiple, so whichever one I’m feeling that day. They’re my HG🙌🏻)
Brushes: all Hourglass (forget the names, but I use 4 different ones)
If I’m feeling extra put together, I’ll slap on some Hourglass Scattered Lights eyeshadow in shade smoke.
All together, this takes me maybe 20 minutes. It seems like a lot, but it doesn’t take as long as it seems.

So I found myself writing this on a "These are my first models and I'm using Slapchop" post, and I stopped myself because I don't want to be Debbie Downer.
I'm not saying Slapchop is bad. In fact, the generalized field of grisaille/underpainting is incredibly useful. It's just it's not a great technique for people who haven't painted before.
As originally pitched, it's a very demanding paint style, that teaches a very limited skillset, and requires non slap-chop painting to make some colors look good.
By demanding, I mean that it is more difficult to fix mistakes with slapchop than it is with traditional painting schemes. If you have good brush control it's a time saver, and I'm using a similar technique on the models I'm currently doing. However, brush control is a learned skill and new painters haven't had time to learn it. I hope you're really good at coloring within the lines. If you're doing a traditional base layer highlight, and you mess up, you can just cover over with whatever color you need. You can't do that with slapchop. The paints are translucent and it will show your mistakes.
Speaking of brush control, about all you will learn with slapchop is drybrush and brush control. Some color theory could also be fit in there. The myriad of other skills, like paint dilution, highlighting, etc? Not so much.
Slapchop as originally pitched as gray zenithal drybrush over black primer struggles to give vibrant results with anything warm, especially yellow. Black is an awful shadow color for anything warm, and that yellow will just look bad until you give up and just paint it normally. I know that, you know that, but a new painter? They'll assume they did something wrong.
Is it useful to get an army done quick? Yep. Is underpainting a useful tool for painters? 100% Should new painters try slapchop? Of course.
Should new painters do slapchop as their first thing, with no other skills? I'd suggest not. Learn the wider range of basic skills. Then try slapchop. If I were teaching a new painter's class? I'd even teach it as a part of paining your first model, but it would be the last thing you learned.

Hi all. I was after a suggestion or two or three for books that tackle leadership and management and the role of emotions and personality (on both sides). I know it sounds a bit wanky but if it also discusses the different approaches to encompass a wide range of ages and some of the broad brush generational cliches (boomers at one end, gen whatever on the other)then even better.
Perhaps a business reddit is another good place but thought I'd start here as I've always got good recommendations! Whilst i can Google these words I'm really after a more personal suggestion. I am a manager in a big corporate who have their way of doing things and the demographic is either 55 years old plus (well established, look after themselves, not too fussed about next gen) or 30 and below (hungry, keen, can't progress quick enough, seek more purpose and want to be more authentic, etc). For context i am 40 so slap bang in the middle.
I know this is going to be deal with cliches or putting people in boxes or generalising but these books tend to do that, so its unavoidable really so no need to debate that here. Thanks!

Can someone explain to me specifically why this was removed, and how I’d be able to edit it without defeating the purpose of the entire story?
It was removed for breach of the “CORROBORATION/PROOF” rule, though after reviewing those terms, I don’t believe that I’ve broken them.
“A dream, a nightmare, a hallucination, a vision, a bout of sleep paralysis, is drunk and/or high, was in a coma or otherwise an altered state”— none of these are the reason behind my main character’s paranormal experience, and I’ve given no indication whatsoever in the story to suggest that they are.
In fact, I’ve outright denied the idea that my main character imagined her experience about as much as I possibly could for a story with a first person perspective.
The main character says “it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream,” in the second paragraph— a sentiment which she consistently attests to throughout the story, and a sentiment which is never walked back on or brought into question by the narrator.
My narrator was in a sound state of mind at the moment of her encounter, and is practical and methodical in her investigation of what happened. Any implication that she has become mentally unwell occurs long after the inciting incident which the story is built around.
I would like to respectfully request that this story be reevaluated. In the short time that it was active on nosleep, it clearly connected with people. If it cannot stand as is, then I need someone to help me make it fit the guidelines without defeating the entire purpose of the story and betraying its themes.
The nosleep subreddit is filled to the brim with stories in which the narrator’s words are taken at face value. When a narrator in a different story says “I walked to the store,” it’s not like the author HAS to give tactile, irrefutable evidence that the narrator actually walked to the store. The audience simply accepts that the narrator walked to the store. This concept of innate credibility is the bedrock upon which my entire story is built.
I do not believe my work would benefit from being altered to fit these guidelines as rigidly as possible, nor do I think that is a fair standard to hold it to. In fact, if I were to change the contents of my story in such a way, the themes which set it apart from others like it would be lost.
In short, I do not understand why my story was deleted, I do not know how to alter it to fit the guidelines beyond any shadow of a doubt without destroying its central purpose, and I refuse to believe that nosleep is not the right place for this work. I implore you to reconsider my submission, or to at least work with me to find a solution which keeps the story’s themes intact.
Here is my story:
I got grabbed
Last night, when I was home alone, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.
Nobody was there to see it, and nobody that I’ve told believes me, but it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream.
I was watching TV when it happened. The remote fell under the couch and I started fishing around for it without really looking, not wanting to get up from my seat. I brushed it with the tips of my fingers and it slid further underneath.
I was super annoyed— I had to get down on my knees to reach it. I finally found the remote, and that’s when it grabbed me.
As I pulled the remote out into the light, a hand shot up from under the couch and wrapped its fingers around my wrist.
I was able to yank myself away quickly. It didn’t hold on tight— just enough that I felt a little resistance. I jumped to my feet, obviously terrified.
I didn’t scream or anything. I was honestly too scared to even make a sound. My heart was beating so fast that my ears started to ring. The TV was still going, commercials droning on while I tried to process what had just happened.
The hand had only come out about a foot from under the couch. It had an arm attached to it, though I wasn’t able to see past its elbow, and it slinked back below the couch as soon as I pulled myself free from its grasp.
It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t leave any sort of bruise or mark or anything on my wrist, but I definitely felt it, and I definitely saw it.
All I could do was stare at the spot where the hand had appeared. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps right outside my front door.
I live in a second-story apartment. It’s a pretty cramped place and a pretty old building, so whenever someone comes over I can usually hear footsteps from the moment they enter the building downstairs.
I guess I was so freaked out by the hand that I didn’t even notice someone was outside until they were already opening the door.
My roommate walked in on quite a scene. She immediately registered how off the vibe was. I could see it on her face.
She found me standing upright in the middle of our living room, TV remote in hand, facing away from the screen while Full House’s laugh track filled the air. I’m sure I’d think it was odd too.
“Hey…” she said, shifting a paper bag full of groceries in her arm while she pocketed her keys, “You good?”
I felt like I was caught with my pants down, but just seeing a familiar face brought some of the blood back to my fingers.
“N—yeah,” I stuttered. I came back online, and flicked the TV off.
I felt her eyes on me as she walked over to the kitchen. There’s no wall or anything dividing the two rooms. Like I said, the place is pretty cramped.
She started putting her groceries away as if everything was normal, but I could tell she wanted to ask what was up.
I kept looking back and forth between her and the couch. I can’t explain it, but I already knew that if I looked under there, I wouldn’t find any trace of whoever (or whatever) grabbed me.
As she started loading up the fridge, I dropped to my hands and knees once again. Without taking even a second to ready myself, I brought my head down to the ground and looked under the couch.
Nothing.
Pretty much what I expected. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze my arm under there for the remote. No way a whole person could fit beneath that thing, and even if they could, there’s no way I wouldn’t have seen them or heard them or something before they grabbed me.
“Seriously, what’s up?”
I looked up to see my roommate standing right behind me, arms crossed, clearly concerned.
I knew I was acting strange, and I knew that nothing I would come up with in the next five seconds could possibly excuse my behavior. I made a judgement call, honestly not really caring about how it would be received.
“I uh… something grabbed me earlier.”
“What?”
“Under the couch. I dropped the remote, and when I picked it up, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.”
Took her a second to respond.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s it. A hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. It happened like a minute before you got here.”
That part might have been a lie. I actually have no idea how long I had been standing in the middle of the room before she showed up.
“Wait so like someone broke in?”
“No. It’s just like I said. A hand reached out, grabbed me, and then it was gone.”
She just kinda looked at me for a while. I don’t blame her, but it’s not like there was any way for me to sugarcoat it.
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure?’ Yes, yes I’m fucking sure!”
My voice broke a little when I said that. I was still down on my knees, like I was praying for her to believe me.
“Okay well obviously that didn’t happen Sam.”I let out a desperate laugh and threw my hands up in the air. I slapped them down on my thighs dramatically and shook my head in exasperation.
“Yeah obviously it sounds fucking crazy but you asked what happened and that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m just being honest.”
I pulled myself up to my feet and walked around to the armrest of the couch. She kept studying me, probably thinking this was all a prank or something.
“What are you doing?” She asked, arms still glued across her chest.
“I’m checking under the couch.”
I pushed one end of the couch away from the wall. It was pretty heavy, and the coffee table stopped me from moving it too far. I dragged the coffee table towards the TV to free up some space.
My roommate started staring at the spot I was clearing as if she expected to see something there too.
I went back over to the armrest.
“Can you help me?”
She snapped out of her trance and silently went to grab the other side. We pulled the couch away from the wall, revealing a thick rectangle of dust that had not seen the light of day since we moved in a year ago.
I dropped to my knees once more and began wiping away the grime with my bare hands. There was nothing but the floorboards beneath it. No surprise.
I sat there for a second, eyes darting around the floor. No fingerprints in the dust, no scratches or marks or anything. I felt the tension in the room dissipate as my roommate found her voice again.
“I think you must have imagined it.”
I didn’t. There’s no way.
“Dude, no. I felt it and I saw it. Clear as day. It was a hand, and it grabbed me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just imagine.”
She scoffed, any fear left in her giving way to frustration.
“Whatever. This is fucking stupid. I’m going to bed.”
She stomped off towards her room.
“Wait.”
She spun on her heels as I stood up, probably expecting me to tell her I was joking about the whole thing.
“Can you help me flip the couch over?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But I’m not helping you put it back.”
She helped me lift the couch off of its legs and tilt it onto its front cushions, exposing the fabric underneath. She disappeared into her room and I went to work studying the underside of the sofa.
There was a zipper lining the bottom, but I found nothing inside when I opened it up. Just a hollow wooden frame and a bunch of crumbs.
I sat back against the wall, more tired than scared at that point.
I can’t believe she thinks I’m making this up. Why would I even do that? What purpose would it serve?
As I solemnly went about rebuilding our living room, I decided that the next day (today) I was gonna take off work, wait for her to leave, and really get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every nook and cranny of my room felt like a door left wide open, with something sinister waiting on the other side.
What if the hand comes back? What if it wants to hurt me next time? How can I even protect myself?
After like ten restless minutes in bed, I decided to move to the floor. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining the hand reaching up from under the bed and grabbing me again.
I made a makeshift sleeping bag out of my comforter and some pillows, and I laid on my side so I could keep an eye on the underside of my bedframe while I slept. Maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. Even down there, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes for longer than a minute.
Eventually sunlight began to peek through the blinds, and I heard some movement within the apartment. My roommate was finally up. I heard the front door close, and it was time to get to work.
I nearly threw my back out yanking the couch away from the wall to reveal the floorboards underneath. They aren’t real floorboards, just the kind of cheap-o fake shit they put in crappy houses to make them look more modern. Our whole apartment is like that— a thin coat of paint slapped over an old building from the 40s or whatever.
My dad actually owns this building. He lets me and my roommate stay here as long as we pay him $500 a month, which is way cheaper than most places in my area.
It’s not really an apartment building to be honest. You can tell it used to be a family home before some realtor swooped in and broke it up into apartments. There are a lot of those around here.
Anyway, the fake wood came up easy. It was only about a quarter inch thick. I was able to pull up the first plank by hammering a kitchen knife into a slit between the boards, and then I peeled a few more away by hand.
After prying away about a dozen of these fake floorboards, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to find anything without making a significantly larger dent. Right beneath the thin layer of fake wood was a layer of very real, very thick wooden beams that seemed to span well beyond the hole I had managed to claw open.
My back crackled and popped as I sat back on my heels to admire my handiwork and contemplate where to go from there. I knew I would need a power saw or some kind of heavy duty tool to get any deeper, but I was afraid of two things:

1. That these beams were supporting the entire second floor of the building, and cutting through them would make the whole thing collapse
2. That going any deeper would lead me into the ceiling of the apartment below us, and whoever lives there would call my dad before I could see what I needed to see.

Regardless of the risks, I knew I had to keep going. I was certain that something was down there. Whatever grabbed me had to have left some sort of evidence.
I can’t stop thinking about that fucking hand.
I’m not supposed to have it, but my dad gave me a master key for the whole building in case of emergencies. He could really get in trouble if anyone found out, but if this isn’t an emergency then idk what is.
There’s a service shed around the back of the building, which has seen none of the love that the main building saw when it was renovated. Decades worth of rusty antiques and rotting furniture line the walls. A shiny, modern tool bench sits unnaturally in the middle of the chaos.
I rifled through all of that shit as fast as I could. I’m not really close with my dad all things considered, and I’m sure he’d be super pissed if he found me out there. He’s so secretive about random shit all the time, and he’s constantly dropping by the building unannounced.
I found the jigsaw under a pile of old newspapers and ran back upstairs.
I probably should have checked the driveway to see if anyone was home first, because the saw made so much noise. The cord barely reached from the outlet to the spot where the couch used to be, but as awkward as the angle was, I was still able to get it in there.
I went as small as possible with my first few cuts. I started with a single beam, cutting out a section about 6x6 inches wide. I slid the chunk of wood out, and, to my relief, didn’t immediately see the plaster that would be my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.
A tuft of insulation stuck out where I made the hole. I didn’t know that stuff is made from fiberglass or whatever, and I got a really bad splinter when I went to yank it out.
I fished some leather gloves out of my roommate’s closet and got to work on the insulation. I pulled and pulled but couldn’t get a good enough grip to remove anything more than a few bits about the size of a tennis ball.
I went back in with the jigsaw, cutting bigger and bigger chunks until I had cleared a hole about two feet in diameter.
No sign that I was gonna bring the building down, that’s good.
I hacked away for hours. More wood came up, more insulation came up, and when I finally hit a fragile-looking layer of drywall, I knew the jig was up. That’s definitely my neighbor’s ceiling. Fuck.
My roommate and I got in a screaming match when she got home. I made a pretty big mess but I don’t really give a fuck honestly.
I don’t give a fuck if she believes me. I fucking hate that bitch. I told her if she tells my dad what I’m doing, I’ll bash her brains in with the hammer. That shut her up. She left with a bag full of her clothes like an hour later.
Tomorrow I’m going to wait for our downstairs neighbor to leave and start investigating from the bottom-up. If there wasn’t any evidence on the floor up here, there HAS to be something on the ceiling down there.
If I do find something, I’ll post again. I doubt anyone will even believe me, but at this point I just want everything written down somewhere accessible in case something bad happens.
There has to be something down there. Something grabbed me. And I’m going to find out what it is.