I had this story idea ages ago, and kept on telling myself I should write it. I finally sat down and banged out what I'd consider the beginning. idk what to do with it, so I figured I'd post it here and see what people think. I'm open to criticism, roasting, or whatever. (Or being told it doesn't belong here - I didn't see a tag that really fit this.) It canonizes male V and saving Songbird because, well, because I wanted to.

1

So Mi could not even remember the trip to Luna. Years of looking up at the sky and wondering what it would be like to have made it, to be able casually riding up to the stars. Now, she had done it, but the memories, if she had even been conscious at all, were locked away from her.
Even now, she perceived in bursts of noise and light. She was aware of being lifted onto a stretcher, a mask being fitted over her face, but couldn't even see who was doing the fitting. Lights in the ceiling as she was wheeled down corridors and hallways. A sterile voice over loudspeakers, but not enough focus to make out the words. The smell, though. There was something unique about the smell, a scent she had no frame of reference for. I guess this is what the moon smells like. The fully articulated thought floated along the shattered waves of her consciousness.
Lost time. A feeling of motion. Elevator? So Mi fought with consciousness, willing with whatever remains of energy she had to see, to perceive anything about her surroundings. She was beyond feeling helpless. She was close enough to death that the thought of being betrayed held no sway over here; she was already dead. The only question was if she might be resurrected. Maybe resurrection wasn't enough by now.
Had she passed out again? The room smelled like a clinic. The mask was off. So Mi summoned a reserve of strength to turn her head. Her visions swam in and out of focus. Medical equipment, scanners. And a person. White lab coat worn loosely, falling off their shoulders. A technician? A doctor? Strangely, So Mi couldn't take her eyes off of their hair. It was the most beautiful techhair So Mi had ever seen, a short inverted bob rainbow wave of light pastels. She told herself there were better things to think about while knocking on death's door, but couldn't take her eyes off the ethereal hair as its owner turned towards her.
"Are you still with us?" The voice was feminine, quiet enough to be just on the edge of what So Mi could hear. She tried to answer, but couldn't get sounds out of her broken body. She blinked, then blinked again, finding it the only thing she could do to give a sign of life. Approaching, Techhair reached down, touching her face. So Mi had never been more aware that her face was artificial plate, she could feel, but it felt like someone other than her was being touched, not her.
"It's ok, you don't need to do that." So Mi stopped the blinking. Techhair looked into her eyes, then let go. So Mi wondered what she saw there. Techhair moved back to the terminals, touching something on the screens. So Mi heard a rising mechanical hum.
"I'm going to start prepping you for surgery now." Techhair moved in and out of So Mi's swimming vision. So Mi felt a bit of panic. Her body was basically a machine at this point. The only thing that practically separated her from a Full Body Conversion, or someone who was only a brain in a machine, was that some of her internal organs were still housed in her mechanical torso, along with part of her original bio in her skull. Her original body had been wasted part by part over her trips beyond the Blackwall, polluted by rogue code from the Krash that knew how to waste both virtual and biological life. The deal she had cut had been to try to wean her back off the cyber, to get her more of her meat back. Usually switching out chrome for flesh was simple enough for a five eddie ripperdoc in a Night City back alley. So Mi was different, veteran of a dozen trips to where no netrunner was supposed to have returned from. Simply reattaching cloned limbs wouldn't work. Everything would be rejected. She would die as surely as she would laying on the table now. She had to say something. The effort made her black out more than once, but she would speak.
"A..a..advanced d..d..degeneration... digital-biocorruption..." So Mi wheezed at the effort, at least as much as her artificial respiratory system allowed. Techhair merely nodded. So Mi almost felt angry, but didn't have enough in her. If she died on the table here because of this lackey's ignorance, then so be it. A fitting end at the terminal side of a moonshot at survival. You could only beat the odds so many times.
Techhair returned to the stretcher, pulling So Mi's personal link from her hand, and connecting it to a stand next to her. A holographic display turned on. So Mi could see a human silhouette, inverted to her view from the stretcher. They were running diagnostics based on her biomonitor, but who knew how corrupted it was. Entire sectors of the silhouette were red, telling a story she already knew. Her body, her military-grade shell, was shutting itself down. The woman touched a few places on the holo, then began busying herself.
"You don't need to stay awake. It's ok if you drift off." How was Techhair so... unmoved? It was something to wonder about as she felt herself slipping towards unconsciousness against her will. So Mi fought with everything she had, told herself that she must watch over, must make sure they knew what they were doing, but she was beyond all reserves of strength by now. Her vision blurred again. Breathing was becoming harder. Her eyes fluttered closed, first for a second, then again and again, each time taking longer for them to open until she at long last lost the battle to force them open, fairly certain they would never open again.

2

The first thing she noticed was the thin layer of sweat between her head and the pillow. Chrome didn't sweat, at least not without special extensions specifically designed to. It felt like nostalgia and childhood, a time before she had become more metal than person. Her eyes slowly opened. Wherever she was, it was dark, the only light coming from a window, rain pattering against it. So Mi didn't know what that meant. She was supposed to be on Luna, and it didn't rain on the moon. Had she not ever made it there?
She cast the thought out of her mind, willing herself to move an arm. She felt every fiber of the medical sheet as it rolled off. Moving the limb in front of her, enough light came through the window for her to see it. She could see the impressions left in the flesh from where it had rested awkwardly on the edge of whatever bed she was in. Slowly, almost not daring to believe, she reached towards her face, feeling the soft give of the skin, the uneven texture of the bones underneath that only natural could provide.
So Mi felt tears in her eyes, the heat trickling down her face. Metal faceplates registered touch, but most artificial faceplate recipients didn't even have tear ducts, and even if they did, they weren't sensitive enough for tears. She felt herself rolling to her side without thinking, her legs pulling up towards her chest as she started sobbing, crying herself back to sleep in the dark.

3

There was no concept of time. Sometimes the room was light and sometimes dark. The window showed her a forest, and rain was common. There were wires and tubes leading from her body to under the bed. She was never conscious for long.
Getting back into flesh was... shocking. Breathing felt so much more natural. She wondered how much of her was now flesh. Her eyes were still cyber, that much was clear. She could still pull up her HUD, though trying to read anything was a sure way to make her fall back into torpor. She knew she was being drugged, likely to aid her body into reaccepting her limbs and organs.
Having been as cyber as she had been, So Mi had always been a steady diet of cutting-edge military grounders, pharmaceuticals created to stave off the otherwise inevitable decline towards psychosis. Those took their toll alongside the effects of the chrome itself, disassociation, loss of feeling, an inability to feel remorse. Emotions long since gone washed back over her. So Mi felt blessed by their return, but also overwhelmed.
There is so much to think about, so much to remember, but it's hard to hold a thought without collapsing. How she got here, the people she had to betray, the one person who had stayed with her throughout, well past when he had anything to gain. Was Reed still alive? Would Myers ever stop pursuing her? The thoughts followed her as she drifted in and out of sleep. Somehow, she had made it to wherever she was now.
Solitude was her only companion. She assumed they, whoever they were, were tending to her, but apparently only when she wasn't awake. So Mi didn't mind the privacy. She barely tried moving, sufficing only to roll one way or the other to get comfortable or stretching, feeling like she was indulging in a forbidden luxury every time she did. Muscle stimulation would prevent atrophy, and she didn't even want to get out of the bed. It was her and her thoughts, and that was enough to keep her engaged with what small capacity she had.

# 4

A smell of cigarettes reminds her of V again. The door is so silent that So Mi doesn't hear it open at all, only catches a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. A woman who at least appears to be the same age as her walks in casually, noticing after a minute that So Mi is awake. If the woman is surprised, she doesn't show it. So Mi struggles to remember if she knows the interloper until she recognizes the hair, the smartly-cut bob with the palette of light pink and violet. Her lab coat still slouching down her arms, not quite reaching her shoulders. The technician who had prepared her for the procedure. Whoever she is, she busies herself checking some details on the bed's side panel before she talks.
"They asked me to come down and talk to you." "Where am I?" It's the first time So Mi has talked since the operation and her own voice startles her as she hears it. It's the same voice as always, but it feels different. "You don't like the Amazon?" The woman makes a hand motion, and So Mi realizes that it was never a window at all. It was a screen. Of course it was. So Mi blushes as the sound of rain fades away to the quiet landscape of the moon, and the sensation is exquisite. "Don't feel bad. You're high as a satellite. Standard reintegration med regimen, but dialed up to eleven." The woman's voice is quiet, somehow soft and intense at the same time.
All of the sudden, So Mi is bursting with questions, and can't figure out which to ask first. Did V also come to Luna? If he did, was someone able to help him with the engram he had stuck in his head? Was the operation a success? What did she owe out of this devil's bargain?
Techhair (So Mi vaguely recalled naming her that, before) bent down, adjusting something underneath the bed, maybe one of the tubes running into her. As she stood, she put a hand on So Mi's shoulder. "Don't worry. There will be time for questions, the doctors say you should focus on resting for now."
"How did they handle the RABID-based corruption?" There are other questions that are more important, but it's easier to ask something technical. "Standard DNA-edit sector repair. Search for affected cells and destroy." "They would have needed to find not only every drone cell, they would have also needed to find any cell hiding the factories." The malicious code from beyond the Blackwall had figured out how to hurt flesh. It would edit DNA in cells into what were called factories and drones. The drones did the damage, but the factories made the drones. There were ways to pick off drones when they started doing damage, but factories looked largely like regular cells. They could also hide in cyberware, making it even harder to track them down. So Mi knew all this definitively. Aside from plaguing her body, she had weaponized the code at President Rosalin Myers' behest. "We're pretty well equipped out here, don't worry about it." Equipment was only a part of it. It would need a top-tier netrunner to have the speed to find factories and shut them down before they could self-replicate sleepers that would evade detection. "You haven't been feeling any discomfort that might be Blackwall corruption, have you?" "Would I even be able to feel it?" "You'd feel it." That was true. So Mi was sure that no drug could take away the pain of Blackwall corruption. An awkward silence settled, and So Mi got the feeling that Techhair was waiting to see if she had any questions, but wasn't the sort to converse unnecessarily. So Mi felt a wave of exhaustion coming, and suddenly didn't feel like asking anything important, about V, Reed, or anything that had happened in NCX, let alone about the future. "What are you? Medical technician?" Techhair smiles, as if something about that is funny, and even through the haze So Mi knows she had guessed wrong. Maybe just an intern? The woman looks young, but somehow just doesn't look like she should be that low on the ladder. "Something like that." They both know it's a lie, but it isn't the time to press for an answer.
Techhair starts moving towards the door, and So Mi got the distinct feeling that asking her about herself made her decide she'd been there for long enough. Definitely the sort who enjoys being an enigma. The exhaustion was settling in, even a brief conversation straining her. So Mi wants something more, something other than just technical details about how they managed to salvage her broken life from the jaws of death once more. "Do you at least have a name?" The woman had almost made it out the door. So Mi's words stopped her. She turned to face So Mi, and for a second, she was just beautiful. She contemplated how much to say. Finally, she said one word before walking out. "Lucy."

Tldr: My mother doesn't accept my style and keeps giving me "helpful" tips. Long version: I'm currently 17. From ages 13-15 i absolutely hated her cuz she'd pressure me with school, friends, etc. Last 2 years I set some goals and I've been getting like the top grades at my school. So I'm a pretty good student and I like maths and physics. However I've always been passionate about art in a its forms. Naturally I've always dressed "different" and "alternative". I got my first pixie cut at 13 and ever since I've grown my hair up till my shoulder, cut them again, grew them, cut them etc. I've tried almost every short hairstyle and I'm currently growing them out. I've had them dyed red for the past 2 years (it's so expensive to switch colours). I like dark clothing but I also don't mind boho during the summer. Anyway when I first started experimenting with my style and other people pointed it out she'd say "Oh yea she's going through her emo/dark phase". I thought to myself ok, she'll stop saying that when she realizes it's just what i like wearing. Past year she's been encouraging me to dye my hair back to brown because "I will look more elegant". I told her I don't care about looking elegant. Past few days she's back at it. She's been telling me to stop wearing black cuz "it gives me depression". Today she was like "i want to give you a few tips on how to enhance your beauty". Guess what the tip was: dyeing my hair brown because "i have such a pretty natural hair colour". I told her no. She then asks when I'm gonna get a haircut. I'm currently growing out the bob/wolfcut I had. I told her I'm probably just gonna get an undercut cuz it's going to be too hot during summer. She started laughing and saying that I can do everything i can to look ugly after I'm 18. Then she said: "You have a great list of things to do once I die. You'll shave your head, you'll get tattoos, you'll get piercings...oh and you'll get a dog!". All while laughing. I'm just so tired of her thinking i want her input on my style. I wish I had more space to express myself, I don't even dress crazy alternative unless I'm going out. No matter what I do she's dissapointed and wants to change me. She kept giving me tips on how to get out more with a girl who's 2 yesrs younger. I told her I'm not that interested cuz she's young and she goes like "yea it's better."(obviously cuz hanging ojt with younger people means less "danger"). I told her I've enjoyed hanging out with this girl from my music theory class who's 20 and she immediately said "she's too old". Bae we have more things in common and we actually vibe?? Ik this text is long I'm just crying and I'm pissed.

In the small town of Skidmore, Missouri, where the population is just around 300, the strange disappearance of 20 year old Branson Perry has haunted the community for years. His disappearance follows the high-profile murders of Wendy Gillenwater and Bobby Jo Stinnett, who had her baby cut from her womb. Eerily enough, Branson and Stinnett are related.
Born on Feb. 24, 1981, Branson Kayne Perry was raised in Missouri and graduated from Nodaway-Holt High School in 1999. After working as a roofer for some time, he lost his job and decided to help with a traveling petting zoo as he looked for another occupation.
Perry’s parents were divorced as of November of 2000, he lived with his father, Bob Perry, at 304 West Oak Street. Although Perry suffered from tachycardia, which made his heart race, he was quite active. He had a black belt in hapkido and enjoyed lifting weights.
On April 7, 2001, Branson Perry visited his neighbor Jason Biermann who allegedly gave him an unidentified drug.
Perry responded by stripping naked and dancing around Biermann’s home. He then shaved off his pubic hair and “participated in sexual activity” with Biermann.
Once Perry sobered up, he became humiliated. So, Perry explained the situation to his father — who was furious. Though he’d always suspected his son was gay, he was enraged at Biermann for drugging and using his son. He even considered “teaching him a lesson”. Although, no confrontation ever took place.
As Perry’s mother Rebecca “Becky” Klino reports on her website, the circumstances of her son’s disappearance remain rather unclear.
What is known for certain is that Perry and his friend Jena Crawford were cleaning the house before Perry’s father returned from a stay at the hospital. Meanwhile, two mechanics were outside replacing Bob Perry’s alternator.
Perry suddenly grabbed something from a cabinet and then went outside. Upon returning, he didn’t tell Crawford what it was that he grabbed or why he left.
Crawford took a shower after they finished cleaning, and then saw one of the mechanics rifling through a kitchen cabinet. When she asked what he was looking for, he told her that it was nothing and went back outside. Resting upstairs, Crawford looked outside the window at about 3 p.m.
She saw Perry leaving the house and called out to him, asking, “Branson, what are you doing?” Perry replied, “I’m going to put away the jumper cables, then run out for a bit. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Despite several witnesses, Perry vanishes moments later.
On April 12, Branson’s grandmother, Jo Ann, stopped by to see Branson and found the home empty, all of the doors had been left open and the radio was still on. Over the next several days, she continuously called Branson but got no answer. She called Rebecca Klino, Branson's mother, and found out she had not talked to Branson either.
Bob was eventually discharged from the hospital several days later, and he and Rebecca filed a missing person report with the Nodaway County Sheriff's Office on April 17.
Not only was it uncharacteristic of him to be out of touch for so long, but all of his personal belongings were left behind. Foul play was immediately suspected.
Nodaway County Sheriff Ben Espey began searching for Perry by combing through a 15-mile perimeter of Skidmore. Authorities questioned the community, including Perry’s “drug acquaintances” — but they all passed lie detector tests. No one seemed to know what had happened to him.
But then finally in 2003, a new possible lead came about. Presbyterian minister and Boy Scouts leader by the name of Jack Wayne Rogers was arrested for unrelated crimes that had nothing to do with Perry.
After attempting to perform sex reassignment surgery on a trans woman and failing to stop the bleeding, Jack Wayne Rogers was charged with first-degree assault and practicing medicine without a license. But when authorities searched his belongings, they discovered evidence of even more disturbing crimes on his computer.
Not only did they find child pornography, they also came across highly sensitive online posts under usernames such as “BuggerButt.” These posts described the rape, torture, and murder of several men. In some cases, Rogers had even talked about cannibalizing severed genitals.
The most shocking post that was made by Jack Wayne Rogers, was about murdering a blonde hitchhiker and burying him in the Ozarks. When questioned about this, Jack Wayne Rogers claimed the post was completely fictional and denied ever meeting Perry.
But then police found a turtle claw necklace in Rogers’ car, which was an uncanny resemblance to one of Perry’s necklaces. However, none of this sufficed as hard evidence so Rogers was cleared as a suspect.
In 2004, Jack Wayne Rogers was convicted of illegal surgery, assault, child pornography and obscenity. He received a 17-year sentence for assault, seven years for illegal surgery, and 30 years for child pornography and obscenity. But it was never confirmed that he had anything to do with Perry’s disappearance.
Perry’s mother waited and waited for answers and information regarding her son — but she was eventually convinced that Rogers was innocent of abducting him. “In my heart, I don’t believe this suspect is responsible,” she said.
Authorities excavated a site in Quitman, Missouri after they got an anonymous tip that Perry’s remains might have been buried there. Unfortunately, nothing of note was found at the site.
Tragically, Perry’s father died in 2004, and his mother succumbed to melanoma in 2011. But in April of 2019, Nodaway County Sheriff Randy Strong said that authorities won’t give up on solving the case. They will keep searching for answers because justice and closure are needed for the rest of Perry’s family.
Before Perry’s mother died, she reserved an empty plot next to her grave for her son, even as authorities continued to search for him.
Over 20 years later, Perry’s close family is gone, but others are still demanding answers.
Source:
https://www.talkmurderwithme.com/blog/2019/10/12/branson-perry-disappearance

I recently cut my own hair on Saturday… It turned out bad so my mom cut more as I wanted it short. She claimed she could do it like the image so I trusted her, but it was nothing like it. We went to the barber today and they messed up my hair so bad, I look like an ajhussi 😭😭😭. I’m genuinely so upset, and it’s worse because my mom is extremely upset at me, saying I’m ungrateful and spoiled for not just “accepting the cut”. It was done by her friend’s sister in law. Of course I’m grateful she took her time to cut my hair! But I’m still really upset, because my mom promised she’d be good at cutting. I also have the worst case of social anxiety lol, so no chance of me going back there😿. The amount of times I stressed about wanting a good barber for this to happen is killing me. I wish I never cut my very long silky black hair into this bobbed mess. My brother helped me schedule an appointment to get it fixed at a different place, it’s on wednesday. So scared and terrified 😭 My barber anxiety will always remain, and i vouch to never cut my shit again 😭

hi, need some help finding a manhua(I believe) that I read sometime back and can’t find anymore. It only had 6-8 translated chapters on most websites, but a lot more on the maybe-official website that was in chinese. 30+ ish.
story includes a step-mother and step-son who doesn’t like her. not much I remember since I didn’t see the story that fleshed out. the cover art included both characters. and the step-son had white hair, short hair(like a bob but a big longer), bangs, purple eyes I think. there is also a step-daughter in the story who has the same palette. I can’t really remember how the step-mom looked like unfortunately.
the title either included step-mother or step-son, if not both.
and another thing is that the step-son has a kind of illness I believe, weak body maybe?
it was a historical setting, with the poofy dresses and whatnot ( • ▽ • ; )
first few chapters had a scene with horse riding, if that helps!
thank you!

I look really bad with short hair. It hasn't been shorter than shoulder length for over 20 years. I asked my stylist to perk my hair up a bit and give me some layers, and instead she cut it all off and removed any existing layers. Now it's a borderline bob.
I feel hideous with my hair this short so I've been straightening it. Is there any way to keep it well hydrated so I can have healthy curls once it grows back 3-4 inches?

I recently was reading a Reddit post about protestors shouting "Black Lives Matter" and counter-protestors shouting back "All Lives Matter". One of the comments said, "Who said only Black Lives Matter?" Indeed, who did say that?
In formal logic "Black Lives Matter" can be described as:
∃xP(x)
That is, "Black Lives Matter" means there exists some subset of lives that matter. Given just that statement, the following is also logically consistent:
(∃xP(x))∧(∀xP(x))
That is, "Some Lives Matter" and "All Lives Matter" can co-exist without logical contradiction.
However, research shows that the concept of "some" is interpreted differently by formal reasoning and colloquially:

In formal reasoning, the quantifier "some" means "at least one and possibly all." In contrast, reasoners often pragmatically interpret "some" to mean "some, but not all" on both immediate-inference and Euler circle tasks. It is still unclear whether pragmatic interpretations can explain the high rates of errors normally observed on syllogistic reasoning tasks.

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/18323076/#:~:text=In%20formal%20reasoning%2C%20the%20quantifier,inference%20and%20Euler%20circle%20tasks
I ran my own very small scale experiment by asking my children, "If I say some of Anne, Bob, and Charlie have blonde hair, can they all have blonde hair?" The answer was "no" from both of them. When asked why not they both stated, "You said 'some'."
In other words, colloquially "some" means:
∃x(P(x))∧¬∀x(P(x))
Using the colloquial concept of some, call it some': "Black Lives Matter" → "some' lives matter" → "not all lives matter". Now, when we combine "Black Lives Matter" and "All Lives Matter" we have:
(∃x(P(x))∧¬∀x(P(x))∧∀x(P(x))
Which is a logical contradiction and we understand why the counter-protestors disagree vehemently with the protestors, in spite of the fact that by formal logic, what both sides are saying is not contradictory.
Of course, there's a lot more societally behind the slogans, protests, and counter protests than just formal logic. But if both sides can at least agree on the meaning of "some", hopefully the world will be one step closer to coming together.
Edit: I accidentally pasted ∀x(P(x)) incorrectly in many places. I have fixed it.

If you post pics of your peen or comment on creepy subs with barely legal girls, GO AWAY!
PLEASEEE be over your ex before messaging me.
PLEASE be 28 or older. Do not send pointless messages saying "Good luck" or "I wish I were single". Do not message me if you're taken
Facts about moi:
* I work with smol humans for a living.
* You don't have to WANT kids of your own (I do not). But, if you don't like kids...you're not for me.
* One of my favorite past-time activities is trying to put together legos high.
* Listening to music high is also an experience (I do Delta since that’s what’s legal. If you’re anti-weed, then we aren’t a match. I don’t do it allll the time. I’m too broke for that life).
* Seriously, doesn't music sound different when you're high?
* Green Day was one of my favorite bands. I’ve been listening to them since I was 10!
* The obsession was real. My ten-year-old self had a binder about the members with all the facts and pictures of Billie (Yes, I was a weird child). I don´t listen to them much anymore. That was practice for my obsession with Panic! at the Disco. I only like one album, though.
* Now my obsession is more towards bands like AVOID, Dayseeker, The Used, etc. I'll listen to the same songs over and over until I can't stand it. I even have a Playlist for that. I recently found a band called Dark Devine, and I dig them.
* I love going to concerts. So, it'd be cool if you liked them too.
* I love love love traveling.
* Please don’t be a giant grouch on vacations. Coworkers complain about their spouse being a shitbird on trips. No thanks.
* I also like staying in, of course! But I’m not a homebody. I struggled during the COVID shutdown. Being cooped up SUCKED. I do not want to beg you to get out of the house. Again, I am NOT a homebody. If you are, we are not a match.
* I have a spicy brain.
* I’m super duper ADHD. Fun times! I’m also like an anxious puppy. Woop woop.
* The most organized thing in my life is this list
* The Office and Parks and Rec are two of my favorite shows. I also like Bob’s Burgers and Avatar The Last Airbender.
* I don't watch a whole lot of TV, honestly...my ADHD brain enjoys the short videos on Tiktok.
* I talk to myself out loud in public.
* I promise I'm only a little crazy...depends on who you ask.
* I like things like tarot (NO I cannot do a card reading for you. I don't know how, I just think it's cool!My friend does readings for me) and other spiritual stuff. If you're into that too, cool!
* I like men with facial hair. I also like men who are more alt-y (think piercings and tattoos...singer of Dark Divine)....but that isn't a requirement! It's just bonus points.
Why you should date me:
* We can listen to emo bands together whenever you want
* Emo music can mean many things and I’m OK with that.
* You won’t get food poisoning from my cooking
* I can make more than Hamburger Helper and frozen pizzas. Though, the ranch burger hamburger helper is my fave.
* The velveeta skillets are better, though.
* I’m suuuper short. So, if you’re insecure about your height, I gotchu. I’ll make you feel tall..or taller!
* I don’t care about height and it makes me sad that people feel insecure about something they can’t change.
* I’m a great small spoon…but I guess if you REALLY insist, I can be a jetpack. Buuuuutttt it isn't my first choice...but please don't cuddle all night. I want my space and I need to sprawl out and become a blanket burrito...with one leg out because otherwise, I'll get too hot! We just can't have that.

PLEASEEE be over your ex before messaging me.
PLEASE be 28 or older. Do not send pointless messages saying "Good luck" or "I wish I were single". Do not message me if you're married. I am not poly. I am not looking for friends with benefits.
Facts about moi:
* I work with smol humans for a living.
* You don't have to WANT kids of your own. But, if you don't like kids...you're not for me.
* One of my favorite past-time activities is trying to put together legos high.
* Listening to music high is also an experience (I do Delta since that’s what’s legal. If you’re anti-weed, then we aren’t a match. I don’t do it allll the time. I’m too broke for that life).
* Seriously, doesn't music sound different when you're high?
* Green Day was one of my favorite bands. I’ve been listening to them since I was 10!
* The obsession was real. My ten-year-old self had a binder about the members with all the facts and pictures of Billie (Yes, I was a weird child). I don´t listen to them much anymore. That was practice for my obsession with Panic! at the Disco. I only like one album, though.
* Now my obsession is more towards bands like AVOID, Dayseeker, The Used, etc. I'll listen to the same songs over and over until I can't stand it. I even have a Playlist for that. I recently found a band called Dark Devine, and I dig them.
* I love going to concerts. So, it'd be cool if you liked them too.
* I love love love traveling.
* Please don’t be a giant grouch on vacations. Coworkers complain about their spouse being a shitbird on trips. No thanks.
* I also like staying in, of course! But I’m not a homebody. I struggled during the COVID shutdown. Being cooped up SUCKED. I do not want to beg you to get out of the house. Again, I am NOT a homebody. If you are, we are not a match.
* I have a spicy brain.
* I’m super duper ADHD. Fun times! I’m also like an anxious puppy. Woop woop.
* The most organized thing in my life is this list
* The Office and Parks and Rec are two of my favorite shows. I also like Bob’s Burgers and Avatar The Last Airbender.
* I don't watch a whole lot of TV, honestly...my ADHD brain enjoys the short videos on Tiktok.
* I talk to myself out loud in public.
* I promise I'm only a little crazy...depends on who you ask.
* I like things like tarot (NO I cannot do a card reading for you. I don't know how, I just think it's cool!My friend does readings for me) and other spiritual stuff. If you're into that too, cool!
* I like men with facial hair. I also like men who are more alt-y (think piercings and tattoos...singer of Dark Divine)....but that isn't a requirement! It's just bonus points.
Why you should date me:
* We can listen to emo bands together whenever you want
* Emo music can mean many things and I’m OK with that.
* You won’t get food poisoning from my cooking
* I can make more than Hamburger Helper and frozen pizzas. Though, the ranch burger hamburger helper is my fave.
* The velveeta skillets are better, though.
* I’m suuuper short. So, if you’re insecure about your height, I gotchu. I’ll make you feel tall..or taller!
* I don’t care about height and it makes me sad that people feel insecure about something they can’t change.
* I’m a great small spoon…but I guess if you REALLY insist, I can be a jetpack. Buuuuutttt it isn't my first choice...but please don't cuddle all night. I want my space and I need to sprawl out and become a blanket burrito...with one leg out because otherwise, I'll get too hot! We just can't have that.

I had always remembered my deeply rooted envy at a girl at my old high school. Alyssa Howard, Home Room 207. It hadn't been long since I graduated there. I was in Class of '22, in a homeroom that I simply didn't fit in. It was isolating since everyone in my homeroom was in groups of friends, everyone was their own designated groups. Alyssa was in the Choir group, consisting of 8 girls. They were girls that were a part of Choir Class, an elective that made no sense why I took it. Along with Alyssa Howard, there was Brianne Becker, Fiona Figueroa, Leslie Smith, Hannah Klidford, Emma Kelly, Mandy Lake, and... Karla Reyes. Karla Reyes was one of them I knew very well. In fact she is the reason why I'm typing this out.
Karla was my childhood friend, we met in 5th grade. Her family was from around Texas, and she recently moved to this small town of Meadows Dale. I didn't have friends at that age since most kids thought I was...well weird. I didn't comprehend why I was weird to them at the time, I just simply thought I wasn't cool enough. I remember vividly that I was walking far from the rusty playground, to a hill that pretty much if going more up north, you'll be at the Centennial Park of the town.
That sunny day in 5th grade felt like it was just yesterday. I was walking up a hill, my Elsa shoes making every step feel like a chore. I sighed, looking down at my shoes, feeling embarrassed that my mom had gotten them for me. All the other kids in my grade were wearing Converse or cool sneakers, and here I was, stuck with sparkly, princess-themed shoes. I flopped down on the grassy ground, feeling like the biggest outcast in the world.
I sat there, lost in my own thoughts, I noticed a girl with dark hair and tan skin walking towards me. She looked a bit nervous, fidgeting with her hands as she approached. I recognized her from my homeroom class.
"Hey," she said, trying to sound casual. "These hills look like a pair of butt cheeks, don't they?" She giggled, and I couldn't help but laugh too.
I signed back to her, using my hands to mimic the shape of hills and then making a silly face to show that, yes, they did look like butt cheeks. Karla laughed, and I was surprised. Not many people in my class knew sign language, and it was nice to have someone to communicate with in my own way.
"Do you know sign language?" I signed, curiosity getting the better of me.
Karla nodded, her dark hair bobbing up and down. "Yeah, my aunt was born deaf, so I learned to communicate with her."
I signed back, asking her if she thought it was cool that I knew sign language too.
Karla grinned. "Yeah, that's really cool! I'm Karla, by the way."
“Lily,” I signed my name, and Karla sat down next to me on the grass. We chatted for the rest of recess, discovering that we had a lot in common. We both loved DreamWorks movies better than Disney, and our favorite music group was Fifth Harmony. I was obsessed with them back then, and Karla was too. We both wanted to be like Camila Cabello when we grew up.
From that day on, Karla and I were inseparable. We'd sit together at lunch, partner up for group projects, and even started a Fifth Harmony fan club in our class. Karla would always lend me an earbud so we could jam out to our favorite songs together. Our friendship was effortless, and I felt like I'd finally found someone who understood me.
It was perfect until the start of Freshman year of Meadows Dale High School. I held my scheduler tightly in my hands as I climbed the stairs to the kitchen, my stomach twisted in knots. My heart sank as I scanned the pages, taking in the fact that most of my classes were designated for students with special educational needs. Homeroom and choir were the only exceptions.
I made my way to the living room where my mom was seated, tears brimming in my eyes. "Mom, why do I have to take these classes?" I signed, frustration etched on my features. "I don't need this kind of help. I can handle regular classes just fine."
My mom looked at the schedule, her expression sympathetic. "I know you don't seem to need help, sweetie, but the school requires you to take these classes. It's just protocol."
I sighed, feeling a wave of frustration wash over me. "I'm going to feel like even more of a freak than I already do," I gestured angrily, trying to hold back tears.
From the living room doorway, my father's deep voice cut through the silence. His ears perked up from the conversation. "Hey, kiddo, what's going on?" he asked, his voice gentle.
I signed again, rapidly gesturing my fingers "I don't want to take Special ED classes, Dad. I can do normal classes. I can hear the teachers very well!"
My dad walked over to us, his eyes scanning the schedule. "I know it's tough, Lily, but the school is just trying to help. Plus, You're not a freak. Not in our eyes, anyway. If anybody gives you trouble, I'll personally see to it that they regret it." His tone was lighthearted, but his meaning was clear. He was the sheriff, after all, and his reputation preceded him.
I rolled my eyes, signing, "Dad, please. You're only making things worse."
Ignoring my pleas, he ruffled my hair affectionately before leaving the room. I retreated to my bedroom, collapsing onto my bed in a heap of tears. The night passed in a blur, and soon enough, it was time for me to wake up and face another day.
I woke up to the sound of my dad calling me from downstairs. "Lily, time to get up! First day of school!" I groggily got out of bed, still feeling the emotional hangover from the night before.
My dad drove me to school in his police cruiser, which only added to my embarrassment. I remembered feeling weird being in the cruiser, with its flashing lights and sirens. As we pulled up to the school, my dad turned to me and said, "No matter what, you'll always have me and Mom, okay? We love you, and we're proud of you."
He hugged me tight, and I felt a lump in my throat again. I nodded, trying to hold back tears, and got out of the car. Finally me into the world of Meadows Dale High School.
The enormity of the building hit me hard as I stepped inside. The halls were bustling with activity, and the noise level was overwhelming. The classes flew by, and I couldn't help but feel like my Special ED classes were too easy for me. The teacher aides were sweet, but they were busy helping other students, leaving me to feel like I was just going through the motions.
As I walked out of my Literature class, I noticed a boy sitting alone next to a locker. He had ginger hair and was a bit overweight, and he was using a big headset to listen to music. There was something about him that drew me in, so I walked over to say hi.
He removed his headphones, looking up at me with a nervous smile. "Hi," he said, his voice a little shaky.
I signed back, "Hi."
He laughed, a little awkwardly. "Sorry if I'm a bit awkward. I'm not really used to talking to people."
I signed, "You're not awkward at all."
He smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks. I'm Matt Weston."
I nodded, signing, "I'm Lily."
Matt's eyes lit up. "Sweet. What's your homeroom?"
"207."
Matt's face brightened up. "No way, that's my homeroom too!"
I smiled, feeling a sense of excitement. "That's amazing!"
Matt stood up, walking towards a bookshelf. "Homeroom's next class. Want to walk with me?"
I nodded, following him as the bell rang. We exited the class, and suddenly we were swept up in a sea of students pushing and shoving to get to their next class.
We finally arrived at class 207, which was already filled with students. I saw Alyssa sitting in the back with her group of friends, looking like a star athlete. Matt went to sit in the front seat, and I sat next to him.
Just as we were settling in, one of the guys from Jr high football, Ryan Peterson, hit a football at Matt, saying, "Can't believe we got 'Butterball' in our class."
Matt rolled his eyes, saying, "At least I don't have a father who cheats and spreads gonorrhea."
Ryan's friend, Warren, said, "Ohhh sick burn,"
Ryan huffed, whispering to Matt, "Just because you're special doesn't mean everybody likes you."
I got mad, flipping Ryan the finger, which made him laugh. "You're lucky I ain't telling the teacher, because I don't want any issues with your old man!" Ryan walked away with Warren, leaving me feeling annoyed.
The homeroom teacher arrived, a young guy in his 20s with cedar brown hair and a pair of glasses. "Hello Students! Like that you are all sitting in neatly placed groups. My name's Mr. James and I'll be your homeroom teacher for Freshmen till Senior Year. Hope you excited as I am!"
Just as he was about to start writing on the white board, a beautifully dressed Karla emerged late, looking older and more mature with a lot of makeup on. I looked up, happy to see her, only for her to not notice me and sit down next to Alyssa's group.
Matt whispered to me, "Do you know that girl?"
I signed, "No."
Matt nodded, looking curious. "She looks familiar, but I don't know her name. Was it Kayla or Karly?"
"It's Karla," I shrugged, feeling a pang of disappointment. It seemed like Karla had moved on to a new group of friends, leaving me behind. I don't know how this change happened, since Karla and I went on a trip to Orlando, Florida, three weeks ago. I thought we had the best of our life's during that trip.
I was stumped, watching from afar as Karla chatted with Alyssa and her friends. I felt a twinge of jealousy and sadness as I realized how easily Karla had seemingly moved on and found a new group to hang out with. I mean, I thought we were best friends. It felt like Alyssa had stolen her from me.
I turned my attention elsewhere, not wanting to dwell on it. That's when I noticed a teenage boy sitting alone a few rows in front of me. He had jet black hair and there was something familiar about him, although I couldn't quite place it. I wondered who he was and why he was sitting alone.
"Hey, Lily," Matt said, following my gaze. "Do you know that guy? He looks kind of like a mini Detective Loomis."
I shook my head, signing that I had no idea who he was, but now I was curious too. Detective Loomis had been a family friend for years, and I knew he had a son, but I hadn't seen him in a while.
Matt chuckled nervously and waved his hand as if to dismiss his own question. "Just wondering. He kind of looks like him, that's all."
Just then, the boy turned around in his seat and our eyes met. He raised an eyebrow, clearly having overheard our conversation. "Yeah, that's my dad," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Why?"
Matt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not expecting such a direct response. "Oh, um, no reason. Just curious, that's all."
The boy, Brandon Loomis, as I now knew him to be, nodded slowly, as if accepting Matt's explanation. Then, to my surprise, he introduced himself with a small smile. "Brandon Loomis. And you are...?"
"Lily Anderson. Nice to meet you, Brandon."
“I'm Matt by the way,” Matt chimed in.
A flash of something—was it pain?—crossed Brandon's face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. "Nice to meet you both. Your dad's a good man, Lily. He helped me out a lot."
I could only imagine what Brandon had been through. I remembered hearing snippets about his kidnapping a while back, but I had no idea what he must have endured. No wonder he hadn't been in school until now.
"Well, I hope the rest of the year goes well for you," I signed sincerely.
Brandon smiled at me again, and I felt a warm glow spread through my chest. "Thanks, Lily. I hope so too."
As the homeroom continued, Mr. James had us all introduce ourselves and played some icebreaker games to help us get to know each other better. It was actually kind of fun, and it took my mind off Karla and her new friends for a while.
One of the things we had to do was share a fun fact about ourselves. When it was Matt's turn, he revealed that he was the son of Mayor Weston and a great friend of my dad's. No wonder he seemed so familiar! I knew my dad would be thrilled to hear that Matt and I had become friends.
Before I knew it, the homeroom was over, and Matt, Brandon, and I headed out into the hallway together. I was relieved to find out that we all had B lunch, so I wouldn't have to eat alone.
"So, where do you guys usually eat?" Brandon asked as we made our way down the crowded hallway.
"I don't know about Lily, but I usually just grab something from the cafeteria and eat outside," Matt replied.
I signed, "That sounds good to me. I like being outdoors."
Brandon nodded. "Yeah, me too. Although, I usually eat my lunch at Dillard's Diner since I work there after school. You guys should come by sometime. The food's pretty great."
"Definitely!" Matt said enthusiastically. "I love diner food. And hey, maybe we can even help you out sometime if you're short-staffed."
Brandon laughed. "Sure, why not? It can get pretty crazy on the weekends, so any extra hands would be appreciated."
As we made our way to the cafeteria, Matt started talking about his favorite band, Deftones. I had to admit, their music was a little too heavy for my tastes, but Matt was so passionate about it that I found myself getting drawn in.
"You know, you should check out their album 'White Pony,'" Matt said. "It's a classic. My dad actually introduced me to them, and I've been hooked ever since."
I signed with a smile, "My dad's always trying to get me into his favorite bands too. He's a big fan of The Beatles and Queen."
"Oh, those are classics," Brandon chimed in. "My dad's more of a country music guy, but I've definitely grown to appreciate some of the older stuff."
While we ate lunch, I pulled out my sketchbook and started drawing, something I often did when I was feeling nervous or needed a distraction. Matt and Brandon were curious and asked to see my drawings. I showed them some of my anime-style sketches, and they both complimented my work.
"Wow, Lily, these are amazing!" Matt exclaimed. "You're gonna be like Picasso one day."
I signed, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. "Thanks, Matt. That's really nice of you to say."
Brandon nodded in agreement. "Seriously, you're really talented. I wish I could draw like that."
As lunch came to an end, Matt and Brandon suggested that they walk me to my next class. I was surprised but pleased that they wanted to stick together. My next class was Choir, and thankfully, it was just down the hall.
"So, Lily, do you sing?" Brandon asked as we walked.
I signed, feeling a little self-conscious. "A little. I mean, I really want to sing, but I'm not sure I'm any good."
"Don't be shy, Lily," Matt said with a grin. "I bet you have a great voice."
I felt my face flush again, but I was glad that Matt and Brandon seemed so supportive. As we reached the choir room, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for whatever the class might bring. I slowly pushed open the door to the choir room, unsure of what to expect. The room was dark, but as my eyes adjusted, I could make out the outlines of rows of chairs facing a small stage. The room had a strange beauty to it, with its blue and white color scheme and intricate design carvings. I made my way to an empty chair near the exit, wanting to keep a low profile.
Before long, a flood of girls began to pour into the room, chattering and laughing. I recognized many of them from the Meadows Dale Advanced Academic Program. My heart sank a little as I spotted Brianne Becker, one of the most popular girls in school, deep in conversation with Meg Peterson. They were giggling about some guy they both apparently liked. Brianne's eyes suddenly landed on me, and her smile faded. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling self-conscious under her gaze.
Alyssa entered the room, and the atmosphere seemed to brighten. Brianne's face lit up, and she rushed over to give Alyssa a hug. "I'm so happy you're in this class!" she exclaimed. Alyssa smiled back, her warm hazel eyes shining. I felt a small sense of relief seeing her friendly face.
Following Alyssa were Mandy, Fiona, Leslie, Hannah, Emma, and Karla. They all seemed to be deep in their own conversations, and I felt even more alone. Karla was telling Fiona about getting her nails done, and Fiona was expressing her dislike for acrylics. I stood up and waved at Karla, trying to get her attention. She had been one of my few friends in middle school, but something had changed between us lately.
Alyssa, however, made her way over to me and offered a genuine greeting. "Hi, Lily! It's so great to see you in this class," she said, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. I felt a small smile tug at my lips. At least there was one person here who didn't seem to mind my presence.
Entering through the red velvety curtains of the stage, a woman with brunette hair, who looked to be in her early 40s, emerged from behind the stage. She had an air of enthusiasm about her as she introduced herself as Mrs. Becker, Brianne's mother. I remembered hearing that they were related, and at the time, I had thought it was sweet that a mother and daughter shared the same class.
Mrs. Becker instructed us all to take our seats and explained that this class was for girls only. She then asked each of us to come up on stage and recite the Do-Mi-Re-Fa-So syllables so that she could group us into sections of eight. My heart sank as I realized I would have to sing in front of everyone.
One by one, Mrs. Becker called each girl up to the stage. Some of the girls had okay voices, while others were truly talented. Then it was Brianne's turn. Her voice was like an angel's, a beautiful soprano that filled the room. Fiona and Emma also impressed me with their deep, rich alto voices. Mandy, Leslie, and Hannah had high-pitched, yet well-controlled voices that blended beautifully.
Alyssa and Karla were the last to go, and they both had perfect voices. Alyssa's voice was like honey, smooth and warm. But it was Karla who really stood out. She sounded like a pop idol, her voice clear and powerful. I found myself getting lost in the music, forgetting my worries for a moment.
Then Mrs. Becker called my name, and my heart sank. I nervously made my way up the stairs to the stage, my hands trembling at my sides. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. As I opened my mouth to sing, an awful, screeching noise escaped. My throat instantly sting, as the aftertaste of metallic overwhelmed my mouth. It was so bad that Mrs. Becker immediately cut me off.
"Why are you in this class, Lily?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
I looked at her sadly and signed, "I don't know. I didn't choose this class."
Mrs. Becker softened a little, seeing my dejected expression. "Well, you better discuss these matters with a counselor about switching, because there are better candidates out there who want a spot in this class," she said bluntly.
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I made my way back to my seat at the very back of the room. I could feel the eyes of the other girls on me, and I heard their stifled laughter. Karla's laughter rang out the loudest, stabbing me like a knife. Alyssa was the only one who didn't join in, her face a mask of disappointment. I wasn't sure if she was disappointed in me or in the other girls' behavior.
It was next week, I got out of my algebra class heading towards the office. I had to wait till Monday, since during the first few days, my assigned counselor was not available. I was already antsy of finally getting out of that Choir class, I couldn’t deal another day with a class I clearly didn’t fit in. My schedule in my hand, I pulled the door open, being greeted by the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip muffins. Nervousness ran through me, wondering what type of counselor Dr. Wells would be.
The door was wide agape, leading me into the source of that muffin smell. Sitting there on a working desk, was a man typing on his laptop. He looked a bit exhausted, almost to the point that he slumped on his chair. Tilting my head, I nudged on his shoulders, trying to shake him awake. I couldn’t help but feel warmth radiating in my cheeks.
“Huh? Oh, hello there Lily. What brings you here?” Dr. Wells jolted up, probably noticing how close I was to his face. I backed away, sitting down on a red couch next to him.
“I want to change classes please.”
Mr. Wells nodded off, scooting his chair back towards his mahogany desk. He searched up my schedule, turning his laptop to my view. “Oh, I see. In what class do you want to change?”
I nervously let out a breath, as I finally let out what emotions I was holding. “I don’t know why you assigned me Choir, but everyone in that class hates me. I really need that class changed, Dr. Wells.”
I saw my counselor's lip repeatedly twitched a bit, before he gathered his composure. Dr. Wells looked up from his desk, his kind face softening as he saw me. "Lily, I want to apologize profusely for putting you in that situation."
I signed, feeling a little comforted by his words. "It's okay. I did want to be in that class, but I just... I felt so out of place with all the other girls laughing at me."
Dr. Wells sighed and rubbed his temple. "I'm truly sorry, Lily. I was told you loved music and thought you would enjoy the class. But it's clear that it wasn't a good fit. Do you have another class in mind that you'd like to take instead?"
I nodded and signed, "Art class. I heard my friend Brandon is taking that, and I've always loved drawing."
Dr. Wells typed something into his laptop. “Consider it done. I'll have the change processed by tomorrow, if not sooner. In the meantime, help yourself to a muffin. The library teacher made them for me, and they're delicious."
I smiled and took one of the muffins, taking a bite. "Are you and the library teacher... a thing?" I asked, feeling a little bold.
Dr. Wells laughed, a deep, hearty sound that filled the room. "No, no, nothing like that. Just colleagues. She knows I have a sweet tooth, so she often shares her baking creations with me."
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It was probably one of the few times I'd developed a crush on someone, and as usual, it was harmless and something I'd get over quickly. Dr. Wells was one of those crushes indeed. I stood up from my chair, feeling much better than when I arrived. "Well, thank you, Dr. Wells. I better head to class soon."
Dr. Wells smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Of course, Lily. And remember, if you ever need someone to chat with, my door is always open."
Later that day, during lunch, I made my way to our usual table with Brandon and Matt. They were already deep in conversation about their morning classes.
"PE is a nightmare," Matt was saying. "All the athletes make fun of me because I'm not as fast or strong as they are. It's frustrating."
Brandon nodded sympathetically. "I heard you beat Ryan on the pacer test, though. That's impressive."
Matt shrugged, taking a bite of his apple. "It was just luck, honestly. Ryan got too cocky and sprained his knee on the seventy-ninth lap. I just kept a steady pace.”
I signed to Matt, "You should still be proud. I bet your dad was happy."
Matt smiled. "He was. It's not every day I get to impress him, especially when it comes to sports. You know how Mayor Weston was a star athlete back in his day."
I laughed, and then took a bite of my sandwich. "Speaking of impressing people, I have some news. I'm switching out of choir class and into art elective. Hopefully, I'll be in the same class as you, Brandon."
Brandon's face lit up. "That's great! I'm so glad you'll be joining us. Art class is a lot of fun.”
Matt nodded in agreement. "I'm happy for you, Lily. But why are you leaving Choir? I thought you loved singing."
My smile faltered, and I looked down at my lap. "It's just... it's not the right fit for me," I signed.
Matt frowned, chewing on his apple. "Is Mrs. Becker too mean? I've heard she can be hard on students who aren't part of the popular crowd."
"No fair," I signed, my eyes pleading with him to understand.
Brandon nodded. "It really isn't fair, Matt. That's why I prefer to keep a low profile. Popularity contests aren't worth the hassle.”
Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Karla standing there, a sad look on her face. "Lily, can I talk to you?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant.
I hesitated, signing, "Why?”
With a strand of hair tucked behind her ear, she leaned in and whispered, "I want to talk to you in private."
I glanced at Matt and Brandon, signing, "I'll be back, okay?"
Matt nodded, his eyes curious. "We'll be here. Take your time."
I followed Karla to the girl's bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure what this was about, but I sensed it was important to her. Once we were inside, Karla pulled out a juul vape from her pocket and took a hit. The sweet smell of watermelon filled the air.
"Want a hit?" she offered, holding it out to me.
I was curious, so I signed, "Sure."
I took a cautious drag, expecting to choke, but surprisingly, I didn't. Karla laughed, "I guess you already know how to smoke. Not so innocent after all, huh?"
I rolled my eyes. "I learned from watching Effy in Skins. It's not like I've never seen it before."
Karla laughed again, a genuine sound that seemed to break through the tension between us. "Look, Lily, I wanted to apologize for what happened in the choir. I shouldn't have laughed. It was mean, and I'm sorry."
I stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. A part of me wanted to accept her apology, but another part was still hurt by her earlier behavior. Before I could say anything, Karla cut in, "I know it doesn't make up for it, but I want to make it up to you. How about I take you to the skating rink this evening? It's one of our favorite places, remember?"
I hesitated, considering her offer. Finally, I signed, "Okay, I guess."
Karla's face lit up, and she gave me a quick hug. "Great! I'll text you the details. See you later, okay?" And with that, she left the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I walked back to the cafeteria, my mind racing. Matt rushed over to me, his eyes full of questions. "How did it go? What did she want?" he asked.
"It went okay," I replied, signing as I continued. "Karla invited me to the skating rink this evening."
Brandon's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know, Lily. Karla hangs out with those choir girls. I don't think we can trust her, especially after what happened."
I bit my lip, understanding his concern. "What if I sneak you and Matt in too? That way, if anything goes south, we'll be together."
Matt's eyes lit up. "That's a brilliant idea! I'm in."
A small smile tugged at my lips. "It's settled, then. We're going skating."
That afternoon, I waited on the porch for Karla to pick me up. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm glow over everything. My dad emerged from the house, dressed in his sheriff's uniform. "Why are you wearing your uniform on your day off?" I asked, curious.
He chuckled, patting my back. "Got called into work. Something strange is going on. Don't worry, I'll be fine."
I signed, "Be safe, Dad."
“I will, honey. Have fun with Karla, okay.” He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up before heading off. A minute later, a black Chevy pulled up, and I recognized it as Mrs. Becker's car. Karla leaned out the window and waved me over.
I took a deep breath and climbed into the back seat. Besides Karla, there were a few other girls from the choir class—Mandy, Hannah, Emma, Leslie, Fiona, and Brianne. Alyssa was noticeably absent.
Noticing my curious glance, Karla explained, "Alyssa had track practice. She couldn't make it."
I signed, "That's nice."
Brianne turned to Mrs. Becker and asked, "Can we get some McDonald's shakes? Please?"
Mrs. Becker smiled. "Of course, sweetie. Does anyone else want one?"
Everyone nodded eagerly, and Mrs. Becker placed an order for nine shakes. Emma and Leslie wanted vanilla, Brianne wanted the seasonal spice pumpkin flavor, Hannah and Fiona requested strawberry, Karla and Mandy chose chocolate, and Mrs. Becker asked about my preference.
"Mint, please," I said, making a gesture of a mint leaf.
Mrs. Becker smiled. "Mint it is. Anything for my girls."
I felt a warm glow spread through me. Maybe, just maybe, they were starting to like me. I took a long sip of my mint shake, savoring the cool, refreshing taste.
"Chocolate is definitely the best flavor," Mandy declared, taking a sip from her own shake. "Nothing beats the classic."
"Pumpkin spice is where it's at," Brianne interjected, taking a sip of her pumpkin spice shake. "It's got that perfect blend of sweet and spicy. It's like autumn in a bite."
"Are you kidding?" Mandy scoffed. "Chocolate is timeless. It's the ultimate comfort food. Pumpkin spice is just a fad.”
"Oh c'mon! Pumpkin spice is leagues better," Brianne retorted. "It's a limited edition for a reason."
The other girls joined in, each defending their favorite flavor. I snickered at their playful bickering, feeling a sense of warmth despite the earlier tension.
About ten minutes later, Mrs. Becker pulled into the parking lot of a magenta-colored building. The girls piled out of the car, and I followed them inside, curious about our destination. Mrs. Becker turned to Brianne and said, "I'll pick you girls up at 8 pm sharp. I need to head home and take care of your little sister."
Brianne gave her mom a quick hug and yelled out, "Okay! Love you, mom!" Then she joined the choir group, whispering something in Karla's ear that made her smile in an unsettling way.
Karla walked over to me and whispered, "Hey, Lily, I want to take you to our hiding spot. It's been a while since we hung out there."
I brightened at the idea, signing, "I've missed that place. We used to act like it was our studio booth."
“Uh-huh,” Karla led me to an abandoned janitor's closet that was blocked off with a "Do Not Enter" sign. She opened the door, and I slid inside, feeling a rush of nostalgia. I slid inside the small, dimly lit closet and sat criss-cross on the floor, my heart racing with anticipation. Karla joined me, and for a moment, we just sat there, our knees touching, the silence comfortable between us.
"I've missed you, Lily," Karla signed, her expression softening.
"I've missed you too," I signed back, my heart warming at the sentiment. "It feels like it's been ages since we really talked." I looked down, my smile fading slightly. "I've missed the old Karla. The one who was always on my side, no matter what."
Karla furrowed her eyebrows, her face a mask of confusion. "What do you mean? I haven't changed, Lily. I've just matured."
I scoffed, shaking my head. "Matured? Making fun of someone less popular than you isn't mature, Karla. It's just mean spirited."
Her eyes widened at my words, and I could see the hurt flash across her face. "I haven't been making fun of you, Lily. I—"
"Yes, you have," I interrupted, my anger bubbling to the surface. "I know exactly what you and your new friends have been trying to do. You've been pretending I don't exist, like I'm not even worth acknowledging.”
Karla's face contorted with frustration. "That's not true, Lily! You always have to make everything about your disability. If anyone's changed, it's you. You used to be so happy, always laughing and joking around. Now, you just cry and complain when things don't go your way."
I signed angrily, my hands moving frantically. "How can you say that, Karla? I don't mind if you want to be more popular, but you're acting like you don't even know me. You're trying to pretend we're not friends."
Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice shook. "Maybe I don't want to be friends with you anymore, Lily. Maybe you're too held up in the past, too stuck in your own little world. You're a sad, pathetic sap, and I—"
Before she could finish her sentence, I punched her squarely in the face. The force of the blow knocked her back, and she stumbled, her hand flying to her nose.
"I wish I'd never met you, Karla!" I angrily figured my fingers around, my breathing being audible in the small space. "I wish you'd never been my friend! I wouldn't care if you dropped dead right now!"
Karla's eyes widened in shock, and tears began to stream down her face. Without another word, she turned and ran out of the janitor's closet, leaving me alone in the dimly lit space. I trembled as I crouched down in the corner, my heart pounding in my chest. I had never hit anyone before, and now I wished I could take it back. It was rather immature of me to end that way with Karla. Especially when this was the last memory I had of her alive.
Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the silence, freezing me in place. It was Karla. My eyes widened in horror as I realized what I had done. I rose to my feet and ran out of the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. As I turned the corner, I came face to face with a masked man. He was tall and imposing, his mask was painted like a 1940s woman with green eyeshadow, vibrant red blush, and blood-red lips. His copper-blonde wig fell in sleek waves, contrasting with his all-black suit.
The man walked slowly towards me, his gloved hand reaching out. I kicked him in the abdomen, my fear fueling my strength. But he was too strong. He grabbed me by the waist, his gloved finger pressing against my lips.
"My little flower, I am so happy to see you." he whispered, his voice deep and gravelly.
Before I could scream or struggle, he covered my mouth with a rag. It took a while for the chloroform to finally take effect, as I remembered my last thoughts were about Karla. Sometimes I wished this encounter was just an elaborate prank played by Brianne. However it is never the case.
When I woke up, I woke up to the sound of a girl's voice, soft and melodic. My eyes felt heavy, my body sluggish as I tried to lift my head. The singing was familiar, reminding me of Karla. My heart stirred at the memory of my friend, and I tried to shake off the grogginess that clouded my mind.As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I realized I was restrained to a bed, my wrists and ankles bound. Panic surged through me, and I struggled against my bonds, my heart racing.
The singing continued, and I finally located the source—a television mounted on the wall across the room. My eyes widened as I recognized the singer. It was Karla, her face bruised and beaten, her eyes closed as she sang "Once Upon a December" from the animated movie "Anastasia." Her voice was shaky but serene, and tears pricked my eyes as I watched her performance.
I opened my mouth to scream, but only a weakened screech escaped my throat. I tugged at my restraints, desperation fueling my strength. I had to get out of here. I had to help Karla.
Catching me off guard, the door swung open, and the masked man from my encounter at the janitor's closet stepped into the room. My heart sank at the sight of him, and I shrunk back against the bed, my breath coming in short gasps.He carried a plate of applesauce, his gloved hands setting it down on a table by the bed. "Good morning, my little flower," he said, his voice deep and distorted by the mask. "Your friend has a lovely voice," he remarked. "Have you ever wanted to sing like that?”
I shook my head, my eyes never leaving his face. I mouthed the words, "Let her go.”
The Masked Man smiled sadly. "Your friend has been let go. Don't worry, she's no longer suffering.”
I wanted to scream, to demand that he release me, but my voice failed me. The masked man approached the bed, his eyes cold and unfeeling. He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the applesauce, then brought it to my mouth.
"Open up, sweetie," he cooed. "You need to keep up your strength."
I turned my head away, my body rigid with fear. I didn't want his help, I didn't want anything to do with him.
"Now, now, none of that," he chided, his gloved hand gently tilting my chin back towards him. "You need to eat. And one day, my little flower, you will sing too. And it will be the most beautiful voice anyone has ever heard."
Tears slipped down my cheeks as he forced the spoon into my mouth, the applesauce tasting bitter on my tongue. I choked down the food, my throat constricting with fear and anger.
The masked man set the plate down and pulled me into a tight embrace, his gloved hands stroking my hair. "Shh, my little flower. Everything will be alright. I'm here to take care of you."
I sobbed into his chest, my body shaking with grief and terror. I had no idea where I was, no concept of how much time had passed since I had been taken. All I knew was that Karla was in danger, and I was powerless to help her. The masked man held me until my sobs subsided, then gently laid me back down on the bed. "Rest now. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I closed my eyes, my mind reeling. The next time I woke, it was to the sound of my mother's sobs. I blinked groggily, my vision blurry as I tried to focus. I was in a hospital room, my mother sitting by my bedside, her face wet with tears. Matt and Brandon, my closest friends, were also there, their faces etched with concern.
"Mom?" I raised one of my hands, my fingers weak and stiff.
My mother's head snapped up, and she rushed to my side, her hands grasping mine. "Lily, oh, Lily, you're awake!" She smiled through her tears, her voice shaking. "I thought I'd lost you.”
I placed my palm to touch her cheek, my throat too dry to speak. Matt and Brandon stood by silently, their eyes filled with relief.
I then asked the big question, signing, "What... happened?"
Matt nervously stuttered, "We... We found you inside an old shed near the skating rink. You were... you were unconscious, and we called for help right away."
Brandon added, "Before that, you were missing for roughly 33 hours. We searched everywhere for you.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, unable to meet my gaze.
"You're safe now, Lily," my mother said, stroking my hair. "That's all that matters. There's nothing to worry about anymore."
I shook my head, my eyes flying open. Where was Karla? I signed, "Where's Karla?”
My mother's face crumpled, and fresh tears slid down her cheeks. "She's... she's still missing, Lily. We don't know where she is."
I closed my eyes, the weight of my guilt crushing me. If I hadn't fought with Karla, none of this would have happened. It was my fault she was still out there, alone and in danger.
The days turned into weeks, and Karla remained missing. The police conducted an extensive search, but there were no leads, no clues as to her whereabouts. I blamed myself, replaying the events of that fateful day over and over in my mind.Three weeks after my rescue, the news channel delivered a devastating blow. Karla Reyes, aged 15, had been found dead, her body buried near the Yellow Rock River. She had suffered multiple bone fractures, and the unsettling detail—she had been missing her vocal cords and larynx.
I recalled the day vividly, the sun shining brightly through my hospital window as the news anchor delivered the grim update. I had broken down, sobbing uncontrollably, the reality of what had happened hitting me like a ton of bricks. I remember wanting to just die, to pay for what I have done. If I hadn't had my friends Matt and Brandon, I wouldn't have been alive writing this. And yet, I never told anyone about The Masked Man or what had transpired that day—until now. Sometimes I wonder if Karla could hear my prayers, wishing that she deserved better than this, and I'm sorry for causing her death. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I needed to say next.
Karla Reyes may have been the first victim, but she certainly wasn't the last. There were 7 more Choirs Girls left.

First Next
Bubba climbed up a stick and thread ladder one of the womenfolk had lowered down. He got up on the thick, well worn, tree bough and helped Sliplegs pull up the woven side of fnga meat.
Mother Silentcut kept three eyes on the stranger, watching as it used its heft to pull up their meal.
An orange and blue striped female leaned into the mother. "Our husband is on the small side."
"He is, but that is a good thing."
"How so?" The young soon to be wife asked.
"He wishes to impress you ladies. Look how hard he works. He, his father, this new ally, look at the feast they have brought us. We will be eating better than we have in two dozen sunsets."
"That beast, it is a bad omen. Do you not think? The meeting of the tribes, they all say the same."
"The sky that brings the drought brings the storm daughter. We will see if this witch's storm can weather us, or will we weather it."
"We could eat it now, be done with it."
Mother Silentcut turned two eyes onto her. "Kill it now and we kill its secrets. This, thing, has magic, magic your new husband might be able to share with us, learn from it. Heed my wisdom daughter, but know I have listened to yours."
"I will heed and be ready Mother."
"Good." She turned the two eyes back on the beast, watching the hairs and muscles of its grasping appendages. "Prepare the ovens. I am hungry."
---===*===---
The meat was pulled up into the trees above and Bubba stood watching next to Pusdot. Sliplegs was already high above bowing before his new wives. "He going to be okay?"
Pusdot shifted on his feet, all four eyes focused on something different. "Alone, no. He will die if I do not help him." He shifted his eyes onto the human. "Your help has aided us. I wish to further this alliance."
Bubba laughed. "Naw bud. We're friends. We guys gotta help each other out here."
"Why did you quit killing us? Why chose to help me?"
Bubba looked around the massive trees, taller than anything he had ever heard about. Strands connected boughs, making pathways the spiderfolk were carrying the meat down. "I've had shit luck my whole life. I know what it's like to have it rough."
"Sliplegs said you won the medicine that saved me. That is good luck."
Bubba looked down at him. "You are good luck, you've got that right." He looked back up and pointed toward an sphere interwoven between several trees. "That one of your homes?"
"One of my aunt's tribe homes. It is not mine."
"Yes, I get that." Bubba said. "What are those things hanging under it?"
Pusdot shifted his eyes to look at where the human was pointing. Underneath the sphere were several hanging woven tear drops. He shifted two eyes back on Bubba. "Previous husbands."
Bubba's mouth opened slightly. "Oh." He looked back up at the line of spiderfolk walking the boughs, taking note of Sliplegs surrounded by the females. "Yeah, we're going to help him." He raised a hand up and shouted, the orb at his side amplifying his voice through the thrumming woods. "We're hungry too. Can I get a hand up? I'm not made for climbing like you all are."
Mother Silentcut approached the edge of the path and looked down at the human. She thought for a moment and then attached an anchor line from her chest to the branch. She lowered herself down slowly, landing in front of the human and small male.
Bubba looked up at her.
She stared back at him. "You wish to serve us?"
"I wish to eat with you."
Her fingers spasmed and Pusdot cowered. "You what?"
He motioned toward his friend. "We're hungry too. We wish to see Sliplegs get married off. Would you mind if we come up, be a part of this moment?"
Several other females were standing on the upper branches looking down at the interaction.
Mother Silentcut shifted her eyes between the two. She focused all four on Pusdot. "You wish to eat with me?"
Pusdot raised all four hands, his eyes pitch black. "No mother. I will serve if you allow it."
Bubba watched them talk and his right hand felt for the pistol at his side before moving around his belt, touching his Bowie knife.
She looked back at the human. "You are not of the weaves. You, I forgive the trespass. We will allow this one to serve and you, witch, may watch."
Bubba forced a smile and a chuckle. "Alright. I'll just watch."
She grabbed ahold of her anchor line and pulled it down to the branch they were on, securing it in place. She held out her hand toward the human.
He stood staring at her for a moment before reaching out toward her.
Pusdot shivered, cowering lower as he watched the mother pull his friend close to her, embracing him, before climbing back up her line. He looked around for another way up, not daring to touch her strands. He routed himself toward a nearby trunk and climbed up, taking his spot at the back of the procession with three other husbands of the tribe.
---===*===---
Mother Silentcut carried the human to the door of her nest and stopped, dropping the beast. She looked over at the floating orb beside them. "It moves oddly. I enjoy hearing our words in your whispers."
Bubba looked at the gaping opening leading into the sphere and then turned toward her. "Glad to know that. Um, thanks for carrying me so far."
"You are heavier than you look, but still no burden." She looked at the other females, each with wrapped meat ready to cook. "Women, come inside, start preparing." She turned two of her eyes back on him. "You will sit with the males until I understand you better."
He nodded. "Understood Ma'am."
She tilted her head. "Ma'am." She said, repeating it in human. "Ma'am." She turned and lead the procession inside.
Bubba waited until the smaller males caught up and noted Pusdot. He leaned over whispering. "So, how am I doing so far?" The orb whispered with him.
Pusdot looked around as the last male entered before replying. "She has asserted her dominance, and meat is readily available. We should be safe for today."
Bubba straightened up and looked back at the string covered hole. "So, we just go in?"
Pusdot widened his eyes and entered. Bubba followed him inside.
The smell hit Bubba like a brick to the eyes, rancid, sharp, and yet overlaid with a pleasant smoky flavor. He climbed up the tunnel, his shoes far wider than their pointed legs, and struggling to fit in the small worn point holes. The tunnel creaked as the underlayers of sticks and detritus moved deep in the silken walls. He pushed forward eventually falling out into the large open room.
Mother Silentcut sat far above, five stairs separating her dais from the floor the men sat on. He looked over and noted the spherical oven covered in silken strands, a fire in the lower portion and the meat cooking in the upper. A long braided tube led from the top of the oven out through the wall of the roof high above.
Two of the females were moving the meat inside, piercing it periodically with their fingers. He looked around and saw Pusdot sitting beside the three other males, and moved over to sit.
Pusdot made motions with his hand and then pointed at Bubba. "Do not be afraid. He is more alike than he appears."
The male at his side had far fewer hairs on its abdomen, and the sheen on its colors was dull. It looked over at the human, all four eyes focused. "It is odd to look upon. What do you mean it is alike?"
Pusdot pivoted an eye over Bubba, the other three on the males. "He has a loud wife, very violent. He is brave though, talks back to her often."
The three males cowered slightly thinking about that.
The older male scooted closer, whispering. "Mother has a temper, please do not raise your voice to her. We keep the peace in this home. Please."
Bubba looked around and saw the two women taking the meat out and up to the Mother. He leaned over towards the older male. "I will be quiet. I am here just to see, learning."
The male looked at Pusdot with three eyes, then moved all eyes back onto Bubba. "You? You're learning from us? You have magic covering you. What could we teach you?"
Bubba looked over at the oven and motioned with his head. "This planet was scanned several times before any of my people landed. They look specifically for fire, for ovens like yours. Yet they didn't see them. Do all nests have them?"
Pusdot widened his eyes, as did the elderly male.
"That's something new, something my people don't know. I think your people have much to teach mine." He looked back up at the Mother. "Weird to think that I may be the first to figure this out. People have to know though."
Pusdot looked up at him. "What is so odd about our ovens? Why do you look for ovens? Do your people lack fire? I have seen you cook in your home. You have fire. I do not understand. Am I still sick from this morning?"
Bubba shook his head. "No, you're alright, I think. It may seem odd, you've never encountered another species. My kind, we look for fire. It's a sign of a civilization. It's a sign that life on a world thinks, and that it has rights."
"Rights?" Pusdot asked.
Bubba nodded. "Right now, in these swamps, are hunters. They're killing and eating anything they want. So long as the strands are recorded, everything is game. The lack of sentience was one of the requirements for a colony world, and the harshness of this world made it ideal for the, well, the dropping off and forgetting of people like me."
"I understand. Your traps were for prey, like how we catch ygwin."
Bubba nodded again. "Yup. If it weren't for my orb here left on and open, I would never have known."
The older male blinked its four eyes. "My brothers were caught like ygwin? Did you eat them?"
Bubba looked over at him, his hand resting on his pistol. "I didn't know you guys weren't food then. I apologize."
The male lowered its eyes toward the floor, darkening them. "This is sad to hear. My body hurts now." He pointed at himself. "Pain inside, thinking of them."
Bubba sat quiet for a while, watching the females eat. Eventually they were engorged and the older male got up. He watched as the male collected the scraps of meat from around the females and balled them up in his lower arms. He then walked over and started handing them out amongst the males.
Bubba stared at him as he extended a large piece toward him. He looked down at the hunk of undercooked flesh. He took a long breath and sighed it out, pulling it from his three fingers. He watched as the men started eating and then looked over at the oven. He took another deep breath and got up, walking across the lower area.
He stopped next to the oven, orange embers glowing inside. He put his hand to the woven outer hull and tapped. It was cool and he put his whole palm on it. He knelt down and looked inside, the heat barreled over his face causing him to shut his eyes. He laughed and several of the females shook, startled.
He pulled his knife off his left hip, skewered the hunk of meat, and then put it into the oven to cook longer.
Mother Silentcut called out from atop the stairs. "What are you doing witch?"
He looked up at her, still spinning the blade in the oven. "Wasn't cooked to my liking." He chuckled. "Also wanted to burn off some of that floor scum."
The males lowered their food and recoiled. Pusdot shivered, conflicted to help or cower.
"Our food, the food you procured for us, is not adequate?"
He looked into the oven and then back up at her. "Meat's good. I quartered it myself. Naw, I just don't trust your cooking is all."
The older male threw up in the corner before passing out.
The Mother leapt from her seat, landing at the base of the stairs. In another moment she had scurried over and knocked Bubba over.
He fell to the spongy ground, staring up at her. She stared down at him, mandibles writhing in anger.
He smiled and pulled the sizzling meat on the knife up to his mouth and took a bite. His right hand was aimed into her midsection, but his eyes were locked on hers.
She watched him chew for a moment, panting over him. "You move without fear." She leapt backwards, putting a safe distance between her body and the human. She looked at his right hand. "What is that thing? Were you going to use your magic against me?"
Bubba got up and took another bite before holstering his gun. "Yup. I mighta if you got any closer." He laughed.
Her outer eyes spun around looking at the other women. She then focused on the human. "I was on top of you. How close do humans get?" She looked over at Sliplegs. "Explain this child! The human! What is it doing?"
Sliplegs looked Bubba over and then turned toward Mother. "It, Bubba Yaga, he, he doesn't move right. Never has. His verbalizations are confusing, often. I barely know what he is doing until he tells me."
She refocused on Bubba. "What are you doing?"
"I don't eat dirt, and I don't eat things undercooked. That's how you get parasites." He smiled again. "And I don't want any more parasites."
She took a step closer. "You don't fear me? I am larger than you."
"You're not bigger than a fnga." He said, taking another bite.
She darkened her eyes and took a step back. She pivoted one of her eyes to a daughter. "Cut another piece for him. Cook it sizzling blue like he likes." She refocused on Bubba. "Sit with me." She then turned and walked back up the stairs.
Bubba took the last bite off the blade and climbed up the stairs.
---===*===---
Bubba made it to the top and looked around. Dozens of eyes were staring up at him.
Mother Silentcut nestled on her seat and pointed at fluff of woven fibers in front of her. "Sit down human."
Bubba stared at her for a moment and then eased himself down, not breaking eye contact.
All four of her eyes were focused on him. "You have magic all over you, and no fear even though I'm bigger. You are no prey. Why are you here human?"
A smile crept on his face and he leaned back some, shifting his legs. "Yeah. I'm kind of banished, or imprisoned here on your world. I wasn't anyone bad or anything, just got into a lot of debt."
"No. I do not care what brought you into our woods, but why you are in my home."
He nodded slightly and watched her eyes as they widened, focusing on his face. "I wanted to make sure you didn't eat little buddy."
One of her eyes shifted down to her new son in law. "Boy, come up here. Sit with us."
Sliplegs, sitting beside his fed wives, looked over at his father. Pusdot widened his eyes and motioned for him to obey.
Sliplegs got up and crawled up the stairs, bowing with each step. He made it to the top and sat where the Mother was pointing.
"Son in law." The orb translating her words for Bubba. "Sit and listen with us. This being holds you in regard." She looked back at Bubba. "Here he is, alive and moving. Why are you here? Do you wish to take him back, eat him yourself?"
Bubba shook his head. "Naw. I'm sad about your kind I did eat. I feel awful."
"Why? You are capable. Why do you regret eating your catch?"
"That's, well, It's not right."
"Incorrect? How is eating, sustaining your life incorrect? It is how life works. All things eat."
"Yeah, that's right, but it's not right to eat other thinking things. That's murder."
"Murder?" She repeated it in his tongue. "That did not translate right. Bad killing? I do not understand.
He put up his hands. "I get it. I hunt and feed my wife and I. We also don't want to be unkind to this swamp. Everything has a balance, and we don't want to overhunt any one species. I also don't want to kill anything that might be friends."
She tilted her head at that word. "Explain this better. Friends? It came across odd. You are not my sister, nor will you ever be." She swatted at the orb. "This thing garbles speech."
Chittering erupted from the females on the lower steps.
Mother Silentcut looked around at them. "Maybe this human magic isn't as powerful as we fear!" She raised a hand and stretched it out toward him, squeezing it in the air. Your sphere doesn't know all words, maybe?"
He smiled again. "No, it doesn't know all words. From what I figure it uses context to figure out words and makes best guesses." He adjusted his legs again, putting his knees in front of his body. "And to your question. A friend isn't a sister, but a sister can be a friend. It is someone who you would eat with, sit with, fight with." He pointed down at Pusdot. "Ole boy there, he's helped me catch and skin lots of critters. He has sat on my porch and drank with me. I like him being around, and that is what I think a friend is."
Her eyes shifted between the two and settled on Bubba again. "My new son in law, he is your friend?"
Bubba nodded. "Aye, I think he is. I like him."
"And you feed your friends?"
Bubba shifted again. "Damn, trying to get comfy on this thing." He moved around and sat cross-legged. "Friends don't let each other starve." He looked over at Sliplegs. "Or get eaten. We do things together, help. He helps me and I help him. That is how friends are."
"You help each other catch food?"
Bubba nodded. "Yeah, hell, we were even planning on going to town tomorrow."
"Town? A human sphere?"
Bubba moved his hand back and forth. "Kind of, very different though. Humans live in cubes, and we like to be on the ground. A lot of us don't do well high up."
"Humans like squares, and live near the fnga. You're taking Pusdot to this place, to meet your kind?"
"Yes Ma'am."
She stood up and raised her hand. "You will take my daughters and new son as well."
Bubba looked around as the five wives stood up. "Woah, hold on, hold on."
She looked at him with three eyes. "You deny me!?"
He raised a hand up. "Nah, nah. Hold on. You saw my boat. It can't hold all them girls. They ain't little."
She pivoted two eyes on her daughters, looking them over. "Two daughters and my new son."
Bubba looked down at them, counting spots on his hand. "Those smaller two. They can share a bench."
"Gorepull, Quietbite. Tomorrow you will take your husband and go with the human to the town. You will represent our territory, represent me."
The two daughters bowed their heads, darkening their eyes.
Mother looked back at Bubba. "You will not kill my daughters."
He chuckled slightly. "Of course not. They are my guests. I'll return them fatter than they are." He watched as she flexed her fingers, looking him over. "The light filtering in here is dim, but I'm guessing it's getting late. Pus and I need to check on his boys before night still."
She looked over at her nephew. "They will be ready by first light."
Bubba started down the stairs, waving up behind. "Sliplegs knows where to meet us. We will be getting the boat ready." He looked over at the young spidermale. "You going to be okay here?"
Sliplegs widened his eyes, bobbing his head slowly.
Bubba walked up beside Pusdot and held out his hand. Pusdot took it and stood up quickly. Bubba patted him and walked toward the exit. "See you girls tomorrow."
---===*===---
Pusdot sat on the bench beside Bubba as he maneuvered the boat through the channels. He clinched onto the side with all twelve fingers, looking out over the water plants as they bobbed in their wake. He looked up at the human and had to yell. "I am your friend."
Bubba nodded. "I know bud. I'm yours too."
"I will help you."
He laughed. "You help me all the time."
"No, I will help you more."
"Don't worry about it. Let's just get through tomorrow."
"You worry about tomorrow?" Pusdot asked.
"Little bit." He looked down at the spiderfolk. "Humans can be mean. We'll have to be watching out for each other. I'll try and sweet talk as much as I can, keep us out of trouble."
"The daughters will cause trouble."
Bubba slowed the boat, recognizing the nearby trees and noting the webbing. "Why they gonna cause trouble?"
"They're young. They want to fight, test themselves, be mothers."
"You think they're going to start fights in town?" Bubba sighed. "They're going to get us killed." He looked up at a nearby tree and saw a platform. The twins were standing there, waiting. "Well, your boys are still alive."
Pusdot reached up for a strand as they lowered it, the boat slowing to a stop beneath him. He caught it and pulled the slack down and Bubba started tying up the last cut of meat. "The females can fight well. They have been fighting since they could pull web."
"You remember my gun?" Bubba asked.
"The tube that you kill the fnga?"
Bubba nodded.
"You will have to use it?"
Bubba sighed, wrapping the thread and tugging on it. He looked up at the twins and gave them a wave to pull it up. He then looked over at Pusdot. "Mine is basic, scattershot. I use it cause my eyes are wonky. I can't aim for shit. You got veterans in town, disbanded mercenaries, murderers, thieves." He groaned. "I needed your help looking out."
"You need my help. I told you. I will help." He pivoted two of his eyes up at his sons as he guided the meat up into the air. "I will look all over for you."
Bubba groaned slightly. "Pus. I need a promise from you."
"I will swear oath."
"Swear to me, if anything happens to me, you get out. Look after everyone here, take care of Alexandra if you can. She's kind of wild, but I think she likes you guys."
"I will look out for us. We will be okay Bubba. You are a warrior too."
Bubba patted him and smiled up at the twins, giving a thumbs up. "Let's get back and go feed the wife."
Pusdot looked back out over the waves, miming to nod. His fangs clicked in his mouth, happy with anticipation for tomorrow's adventure.

Hi NYC,
My mom (70f) is visiting for out of town and wants to get her haircut here. She's growing out a dated pixie cut and it's about shoulder length, but it needs some shaping to actually be a bob. Hoping for any recommendations for someone who has experience working with thinner / gray / mature hair.
Thanks!

Hi,
I'm looking for ARC readers for my book on Booksprout.
https://booksprout.co/reviewereview-copy/view/161969/a-damn-tree
Blurb:
A detective obsessed with wrestling. A man with a fetish for inflatable sheep. A Japanese-speaking alien. These are just a few of the bizarre individuals that the protagonists in A Damn Tree encounter. In the twelve stories that make up M.P. Newman’s magnificent debut story collection, we follow these protagonists as they struggle to find stability and fulfilment in an increasingly bewildering world. Characters like Benny, a man who stands in the park pretending to be a tree, Bill, a watchman at an illicit business, and Steve, a voyeur keeping an eye on his neighbors, are witnesses to the confusion of the world, powerless against the violence and heartbreak that surrounds them. And yet, whenever all seems lost, there is peace to be found in the people they grow close to.
A Damn Tree is a dazzlingly creative collection, comic and frightening, but always with a deep appreciation for the world, nature, and above all the love that people can share in their friends, family, and romantic partners. So when you find a hair in your soup, take heart—it may have fallen from the head of a friend.
Synopses:
• In “One Time in Africa,” a wealthy Londoner travels to rural Ghana in search of the woman of his dreams—literally—and the purpose of his life, only to find that neither is what he expected.
• “Of Life and Death” tells the story of a watchman at a mysterious, illicit business, and the choices he must make between his duties to his employer and to his humanity.
• “Baghdad-Manhattan” examines the turmoil of an Iraqi refugee trying to make a new life for himself as he fights against his past, his inner demons, and the unfamiliar temptations of New York City.
• In “Super Spy,” we witness a voyeur’s obsessive surveillance of his neighbors, including a kind-hearted Vietnamese family and their pigs, a webcam-modeling business, and a German couple hosting a perpetual, and increasingly debauched, party.
• A man arrives at the hospital with an unusual complaint in “The Alien Anal Probe”—and neither the police nor the on-call psychiatrist believes him until they receive another surprise visitor.
• “A Damn Tree” is the story of Benny, a man whose sole responsibility is to wake up each morning, dress in camouflage, and stand so still that even birds see only a tree, and of his neighbor Nathalie, a single mother who is determined to see him as a man.
• “Coo—Wings of Peace” takes place in the pit cave into which eighteen-year-old Harry has fallen after a drunken fight. With only the pigeons he despises as company, Harry meditates on the choices that have brought him here, and the changes he will make—if he survives.
• “Rose’s Luck” is the tale of a single night in the life of a heart-broken woman named Rose: the night that she intends to be her last. But fate has other things in store, for both Rose and the people around her.
• “Lost Corpses” depicts a series of mysterious occurrences at a local hospital, and the frightening aftermath that sends a young man on a journey across continents and into a world of secrecy that leaves him and everyone around him second-guessing reality.
• In “Bob is in the House” we follow a widower named Bob as he navigates the world of inflatable sheep, Native American costumes, prostitutes, and fake names that he anonymously invites into his home for a secret party every weekend.
• “Fish Soup Fantasies” is a short, comic tale of three strange hairs in a soup—hopefully placed there by the three lovely waitresses who served it.
• “The Revolution” is the story of a hungry cat, three revolutionaries at odds with each other as much as with the world, a woman in labor, and the celebration that for one night leads all these struggles to be forgotten.

To be honest im just boted of looking like a plain jane I want something that can makes my hair more intresting and hot. My hair is medium length and light brown. The haircut I suit the most (lifestyle and looks) is under the chest long, blunt ends, no layers and very very long curtain bangs. I like my hair colour and the style is just normal, I just want to look cool for once in my life. Please what should I do for a drastic change that isnt getting a bob,fringe or dying my whole head of hair lol.

I've always had longish hair (no shorter than a bob) and I have been craving the ease/comfort of a short haircut for years. I play sports and sweat a lot, and I hate how long it takes for my hair dry every day.
I don't want to post pictures of my face on reddit, but I relate to this post because I have sort of androgynous features and worry that I'll look manly (I'm already muscular, and I don't really wear makeup). It will also be hard to dye it since I'm asian, and asian hair is difficult to bleach. A part of me wants to say 'fuck gender norms' but it's hard to bring myself to actually do that.
I want to hear the experiences of others who have had a similar experience and decided to do the buzz cut. Did you regret it at all or was it a positive gamechanger? How was the growing out process, if you decided to grow it back out? Was there anything you did that helped it feel more feminine? Thanks!

Oke im at my end...I can only cry right now. My beautiful beautiful girl of 6 with such gorgeous multi color hair in a french Bob had gotten a woven in braid with ribbons and rope and such on the carnival yesterday.
We asked her do you want it out no she wanted to show it at school.
Well...she PULLED THE ENTIRE THING FROM HER HEAD
For the love of fucckkking good aaahhhhggrrr.
I'm already dealing with way to much and now she pulled the entire thing from her head? Your fucking shitting me?? She has a bald spot of like 5cm right on the top of her head. After summer she is starting new older group at school (3e grade) she will be made fun of, she looks ridiculous, it looks Soo ugly on my pretty girl
I can't even look at her without crying I feel like shit!! Why did I leave it in? Why the fuck did she pull it. She told teacher she didn't want it anymore teacher said wait till home why didn't she fucking wait two hours till I could have don't ut properly.
She looks stupid and I just don't know how to coop. I already fixed it the best I can, I always cut her hair at home(master of french Bob 💪😜) and when it's combed you can barely see it but the little miss adhd (no offense I have it she has it) she does not sit still, her hair does not stay in same position so ever 5 min I seethe FUCKING bald spot again
Fml I'm off to cry now

Wow, it has been a while! Finally, after so long, I'm back. I've been making a lot of changes to some of the chapters. Fortunately, this subreddit isn't too busy so if I don't post a chapter, assume I left it alone. I only completed 12 chapters, which you'll find in here.
Here is a link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LH7vspZoJAycmvS1bDKGwUmZRrV3A44F2Hq3b-qUVQI/edit?usp=sharing to a copy of the doc I'm writing it on. Feel free to read the 12 chapters, and I'll post the updated versions here as well.
'Strange scenes in the New York subway station this morning when a man derailed a train after yelling something about mortal slowness.’
‘A category 5 cyclone unexpectedly hit a small town in Alice Springs, Australia, this afternoon, destroying the town and killing many of the populace.’
‘A home has been broken into in the early hours of the morning. An eyewitness walking her dog claims that ‘a woman punched the wall and the wall just exploded and was gone.’ Police are investigating the matter.’
‘A gun range in Texas was met with more than just the sound of bullets this morning when a man’s arm was broken by another man during a heated argument concerning gun policies. Eyewitnesses say the man responsible for the injury ‘poked’ the other man’s arm, resulting in the injury.’
‘Hello Roarhaven City, I am your host, Argus Hemlock, bringing to you fantastic news! As we all know, during the War, countless Elementals locked themselves in an earthly prison of their own making in an act of life preservation. Hoping to either find a way to reverse this, and to keep them from harm, the Sanctuaries around the world took them in, placing them in unknown areas for safety. However, the timeless wait is now at an end, as just moments ago, an incredible scene occurred where Sanctuary officials around the world were greeted by these very people. We managed to capture the moments these individuals were reunited with friends and families, and I believe I can say this on behalf of all of us when I say, ‘Welcome Back’.’’
‘Tension is brewing in many areas around the world as people begin to report seeing statues shed their concrete exterior and leave their pedestals. Walking and talking, these statues were once considered ornaments, exhibits and tourist attractions. Many are calling it a hoax, or a long-term prank. Others are pointing fingers at the government, believing them to be sophisticated spies and robots. Other claims, which have been dismissed, believe that these individuals were not statues at all, but rather sorcerers.’
A fireball exploded against the house, spraying Zani with brick and mortar, and Zani cursed as the hungry flames licked dangerously close to her face. Ducking her head back, she flung her hands up and a wall of green roared up in front of her, writhing and curling. They’d been ambushed during a routine walk around the Eastern Quarter, one of many that had been undertaken in Roarhaven’s attempt to make the area a feasible place to live again. At first, everything had appeared normal. Quiet, vacant and the occasional piece of rubbish fluttering past. The signs of an abandoned space. But it was when they’d headed deeper into the Eastern Quarter, when there was no turning back, did a large number of the Guardians of Supremacy reveal themselves. Some firing down on them from the rooftops while others pinned them down from the ground, the City Guard found themselves caught in a vicious crossfire. They’d already lost two officers, and Commander Rylent had been grazed with a bullet. They couldn’t afford to lose more.
Stepping through her grass wall, feeling the leaves and sticks break and snap and part for her, she commanded the vines and branches to wrap around her arms and torso, and she rose off the ground, towering over the battlefield. From her newly-acquired height advantage, Zani could see the roofs of the buildings stretching across the Eastern Quarter, cheap and crumbling from age and weather. Darting across them were the men and women blasting their magic down on her colleagues.
‘Pests,’ she thought and pushed her arms out and wide. Her hair whipped around her as the wind flew past, carrying vines and thorns and branches forth. Feeling the power of nature rush past and through her, Zani felt exhilarated. In power. In control. The vines wrapped around the people on the roof tops and flung them around, breaking bones and spilling blood. These people had been a thorn in the City Guard’s side for far too long.
‘You think you’re the puppet masters?’ Zani thought. ‘Let me show you how wrong you are.’
Launching herself downward, she tore through the towering bush she’d created, and it exploded into thousands of bladed projectiles that followed her to the ground. Landing as her magic created a maelstrom of bladed grass to ward off other combatants, Zani willed her spear into existence and met the first of the Guardians head on, her spear clashing against his sword. Pushing her opponent’s blade downwards, she forced her spear to unravel, sending the ribbons of grass scurrying up the man’s body and around his neck. Tightening them by clenching her fist, she pivoted past him, sensing her make-shift noose drawing blood as it cut through skin. Releasing her hold at the height of her pivot, the man spun and crumpled to the ground and Zani felt the ribbons of grass tether themselves together, forming a rudimentary cat-o-nine tails.
“Get away from him!” Zani turned and watched a woman striding towards her, her hands curled around balls of fire. “You should know better! You should be one of us!”
‘What on earth is she on about?’ Zani thought, quickly dismissing her opponent’s words. It was no secret that the Guardians of Supremacy had started reaching out for young extremists to join their ranks, filling them with righteous fury.
Approaching the Guardian, Zani lashed out with her whip. The woman raised her arms together in front of her face, and blood sparkled in the air as Zani’s weapon cracked along her opponent’s forearm. Rushing forward, the tendrils warped and twisted back together to form her spear and Zani slashed at her opponent. The woman darted to the side, ducking underneath the swing, and clapped her hands in front of her. The air rippled and a wall of thickened air slammed into Zani, throwing her off her feet and driving the breath from her lungs. Crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust, Zani rolled until someone stopped her. Looking up, she saw Tuck’s determined face above her. He let her go and pressed his palms together in a prayer’s stance. Twisting them in opposite directions, a spiel of sigils decorating his palms peeled off, hovering in the air like colourful orbs. His fingers trailing streams of crimson, gold and black, he bobbed and weaved to avoid the woman’s ever increasingly desperate barrage of fireballs, creating a large, intricate sigil before him. Zani watched her friend complete his work, and he pressed his palms against the sigil and it flared in golden fire, and raw magic burst from it. Pure destruction followed in the magic’s trajectory as it crashed into the side of the building the Guardians were bunkered down in, a furrow carved deep into the road and the surrounding area melting from the intensity of the magic. Staggering from the dust and smoke, the Guardians roared their defiance and rushed forward in a mess of glinting blades and whizzing bullets and colourful magic.
“City Guard!” Commander Rylent roared. “Stand fast and take them on!”
Cora Daillion charged ahead of them, launching herself off the ground with a pillar of earth. High above them now, Cora crafted a web of stone so intricate a spider would’ve been jealous, and from her web stalactites grew. With a wave of her hand, the stalactites began cascading down upon the frantic Guardians as they scrambled to find shelter. Their enemies now in a panic, Cora’s pillar withdrew back to the ground, and as Cora’s feet met the earth, it shifted and heaved, cracks scurrying across the ground and chasing after the Guardians. But another woman emerged from the fleeing crowd of terrorists, and she kneeled and placed her hands onto the ground. The earth rose up in waves, dust and debris roiling like sand in the ocean, and it was soon bearing down upon them. Cora yelled, her hands splayed before her, and the tidal wave of stone was torn apart in a violent explosion. As it settled, a City Guard stepped forward, and Zani’s ears popped as the man’s head snapped backwards, blood sluicing through the air from the hole that had appeared in his forehead.
Whipping her head around, Zani spotted the female Guardian, her hand outstretched in the form of a finger gun. Zani watched her eyes flicker to meet hers, and then her hand was moving and the air was compressing again, and Zani felt someone grab her sleeve and wrench her down behind one of their blockades.
“And not a second too soon”, Zani thought, feeling something tear through the air above her head. Ever since Mr Bones had used Valkyrie Cain’s body to expand and widen the Rifts connecting their Dimension to the Source, which many were calling the ‘Amplification,’ magical potential had expanded greatly. And many were capitalising on their newfound magical reserves to develop and create new ways to use their magic. One of those ways was the art of death dealing.
“Tuck! The seed bombs!” Tuck nodded and Zani stretched her arm out. The green seams that ran up and down the sleeves of her black leather jacket writhed and burst forth, releasing a dozen small green orbs each. With a wave of her hand, the orbs bounced and tumbled towards some of the charging Guardians. As they drew closer, Zani clenched her fist and the orbs tore open, allowing the writhing vines inside to grow unhindered. They snaked forward, their release from captivity urging them onward, and they began wrapping around the now-struggling Guardians, who were trying their best to tear and burn through the thickening foliage. Tuck knocked his knuckles together and punched the ground, and a carpet of red sigils began rushing towards those that were trapped by the foliage. Before Zani could blink, the sigils burned into her leaves, forming a latticework of red lines that sizzled with intense energy, imprisoning the Guardians.
“That won’t hold them for long,” Tuck said grimly. “We need to reorganize now. I’ll hunt for their Signum Linguist, you coordinate with Commander Rylent.”
“An excellent strategy, Mr. Pock,” Commander Rylent said as he approached. “Detective Elandra. Take Roland and Sentrious. Flank them. We’ll draw their attention.”
“Yes, sir. Roland! Sentrious!” Zani shouted. Both men looked up and she gestured and made a series of hand-gestures, demonstrating her intentions. The men nodded and made their way over to her.
They moved together, bullets and magic whizzing by as they ran into a side street, using the houses as cover. As they approached the rear-side of the Guardians, Zani sensed her colleagues take out their guns. Her hand drifted towards the holster attached to her hip, but she relented. She’d never liked using her gun. She didn’t kill. Rounding a corner, they saw the backs of the Guardians as they fought and struggled against the City Guard. Zani noticed that two more of the City Guard had fallen and that the Guardians Tuck had imprisoned had managed to escape. The tide of the battle was still shifting, still deep in the murky waters of uncertainty.
Further ahead, Zani spotted Tuck locked in combat with another of his discipline, their fight a bright show of vibrant colours and debris as their magic tore up their surroundings. Zani felt water drop on her head and she looked up, where Cora was fighting three different people on her earthen walkway high up in the sky. The battle was dragging out.
She turned to Roland and Sentrious. “Right. We’re being spread thin out there. It’s time we flip the tables. Disrupt them. Keep them from regrouping or finding a foothold.”
‘Are you ready, Sentrious?’ Roland signed.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Sentrious, a look of ferocious determination passing over his face. They moved forward, Roland raising his arms. His long fingers, quite used to complex movements, twitched and flexed and Zani felt the air shift around her as gravity was pulled inward and folded in on itself. The Guardians ahead of them stumbled and began slowly falling to their knees, as if the weight of the world had been bestowed upon their shoulders.
Zani glanced at Roland as the sorcerer used his magic. ‘That quite possibly is exactly what it feels like.’
Sentrious stepped forward then, a light laugh escaping his lips at the view before him. “Look at them, being forced to the ground. Shall I assist them?” Without waiting for an answer, he knelt, placing his hands against the ground. He knelt there for a moment, when the ground began to churn and melt like butter, and yelps rose from the struggling Guardians as they found themselves sinking into the ground, trapped.
Roland nodded as Sentrious smirked. “If only I could do that to everyone who tries arguing with me,” he jabbed Roland in the side, eliciting an eye-roll from his fellow City Guard.
As they bantered, Zani stepped forward. “Heads up fellas, the fight isn’t over yet.”
More Guardians swarmed out from the stonework of houses and alleyways like ants racing for a piece of food on the ground.
“Oh dear, that’s slightly more than before,” Sentrious murmured. He turned his head. “Clay! Vincent! A little help here!”
“Of course,” said a man with sandy-coloured hair who, despite wearing the uniform of a man in the field, looked as if he’d have been more comfortable in a science lab. Clay, Zani’s fellow City Guard officer and a man whose glasses were in a constant state of falling off of his face, covering eyes that shone with curiosity. “We can’t all be show-offs like you, Sentrious. Perhaps something a bit more physical?”
He plucked a piece of rock from the ground and golden-brown energy wrapped around his hands like gloves, molding and changing the structure of the rock. As he did so, humanoid creatures began to rise from the earth, their bodies melting and reforming like playdough being played with by a child. Clay laughed with glee as he splayed his hands, sending his creations forth. A sorcerer who had become enamoured by the mortal polytheistic religion of the ancient Greeks, Clay had developed a bond with the Titan Prometheus, who was said to have created humanity by playing with the clay in the Earth.
“Do not rob us of all the fun,” Vincent Brimstone muttered gruffly, clapping his hands together as if he was applauding loudly. His arms began glowing a charcoal-red colour, with crimson red lines snaking up and down his dark arms. As he clapped, his arms began to crack and pieces of his skin began sloughing off. Crashing against the ground, the volcanic rock smashed open, releasing the ash within. With a flick of his hands, the ash came together in a cloud and rolled over the asphalt, washing over the Guardians, blinding and choking them.
“Now!” Zani heard Rylent yell. The City Guard rushed their helpless enemy, throwing magic and pinning them where they were until they were upon them. Zani noticed a truck pull over, Cleavers gracefully piling out of the truck before it had even fully stopped. Cleavers joining the fight now, Zani heard her fellow officers yell with renewed vigor at the sight of the masked enforcers of the High Sanctuary. A skirmish quickly broke out as guns were abandoned in favour of swords and magic. The Guardians, once being City Guard, had the same level of magical and physical protection as they did, so they weren’t going down easily. The clashing of blades filled the air and blood began to spill and grunts and roars and pained cries filled the air.
Zani formed her spear once more, lunging towards the elemental that had shot her with compressed air. Lashing out, she barely missed her opponent’s flank, who twisted to avoid the blade and grabbed onto the shaft, her hand ablaze. The inferno quickly caught onto the spear, hungrily racing up its length. The spear crumbled to ashes and the woman blew Zani a kiss, blowing the ashes of Zani’s spear into her eyes. Zani yelled in shock, her eyes blurring as tears formed to clean her eyes from the grit and ash that found its way in. Blinded, she didn’t see the kick that caved in her stomach, nor the fist that hammered against her jaw. Zani staggered and she felt the air shift around her legs and suddenly she was falling onto the road, her head cracking against the ground. She felt a pillar of air slam into her belly and she choked as the air was knocked out of her lungs.
Fighting the urge to succumb to the darkness wavering at the borders of her vision, a bright flash beat back the darkness and she heard a familiar voice above her.
“No sleeping on the job for you, Zani,” Tuck ordered with a small, grim smile. “The Guardians are trying to organise. We need to contain them.”
Zani groaned as she rolled over and picked herself up. “I was up late last night, that’s why she beat me.”
“You could just be getting old,” Tuck offered. Zani stuck out her tongue in protest and Tuck laughed. It was good to hear his laugh again, even though it made the slight scarring on his throat ripple. A stark reminder of the demented creature of their nightmares.
Accepting Tuck’s hand, Zani hauled herself back up. “Ladies first?”
“Oh, cheers.”
They moved as one, sigils and flora, and they created a garden of magic that swarmed the Guardians, their creation coming alive to fight on their behalf. Vines glowing with red sigils coiled and twisted around limbs, bladed grass sparkling with sigils rose up from cracks in the ground to pierce feet, flora of all kinds enhanced and empowered by the language of magic. As their garden broke through defences, the other City Guards mustered their own offensive.
Cora broke apart the earth, raising the shattered remains of the sidewalk and bombarding their enemy with a hail of rock and dirt. Sentrious and Clay worked alongside her, pillars of stone rising to trap the Guardians as Golems shambled forward, swinging giant fists with the force of hammers and piledrivers. Vincent and Roland were in charge of preventing them from fleeing, gravity distorting and shifting to imbalance them while ash crept into their vision, robbing them of any chance to see an escape.
They all worked together, their magic in perfect synchronicity, beautiful and powerful. Zani was once more forced to wonder how different things could’ve been if all of Roarhaven had risen up as one against Mr Bones. How many deaths that could’ve been avoided.
Crescent.
Anger surged through her at the thought of her old friend and mentor. Seeing the woman who had fought her darting through the magic, making her way across the battlefield, Zani’s hackles rose in challenge.
“Surrender now, and you’ll still have all your teeth by the end of the day.”
The woman had mirth in her eyes as she approached. “I’ve already beaten you once today. Perhaps you’re not as strong as we believed. All bark and no bite,” she grinned, showing her teeth. “Is that why you want these?”
Not bothering with a verbal response, Zani threw an arm out wide, feeling the orbs in her sleeves tearing themselves free from the seams and scattering across the ground. As they rolled, they burst open like eggs, but instead of yolk came wild vines that thrashed in the sunlight. They lashed out at the woman, but suddenly there was smoke and ash as the woman leaped through them, fire dancing up her sleeves.
“Prime Detective of the City Guard,” the woman taunted, “and yet you still attempt the same tricks. Perhaps you truly are a dog, only able to perform the same learned tricks.” Laughing, she swept her hand across her body and flames billowed out, forcing Zani backwards.
Calling her magic forward, her vines grew exponentially, thickening and widening until they were the size of steel beams, and they fell upon the fire and smothered it, staining the sky with grey smoke. The smoke parted as a wall of air slammed into Zani, knocking her back a few steps, the tendrils of grass that she’d swiftly summoned around her arms the only things keeping her steady. She felt their power, deep in the earth, and willed them to grow.
“You would do well to stay away from here,” the woman said. “This is no place for the City Guard.”
“This is Roarhaven,” Zani retorted. “We will always belong here.”
Her magic surged through the tendrils and scurried along the length beneath the earth’s surface, granting them the power to break through the surface and ensnare the woman’s legs. The guardian yelled in shock as she was pulled to the ground, her nails breaking and cracking as she scrabbled for purchase on the rough stone road, Zani’s tendrils dragging her closer.
But then the ground was rumbling, and a man’s head poked out of the road. Faster than Zani could react, he slashed a clean cut through her tendrils, and he grabbed onto the woman and they sank into the ground, leaving devastation in their wake.
The push had been successful and the Guardians were either fleeing or being detained by the Cleavers. One Cleaver was standing away from the rest, kneeling next to a fallen comrade with its head in its hands. It had red padding on its uniform. Joshua Martini. She approached the Cleaver and looked down at the fallen Cleaver, whose uniform was burnt and pockmarked with holes. As silence began to reign over the battlefield, Zani heard a soft moaning sound. It took her a moment to realise it was coming from Martini.
Before she could say anything, Tanith appeared beside her. “Another tough battle for you.”
“They know our movements,” Zani said. “We have another mole. Just like last time.”
Tanith was silent for a moment. “This isn’t Razor Simone. As far as we know, the Guardians don’t even have a leader after -”
“I know!” Zani snapped, then reeled herself back. “But how long are we going to continue this, Tanith? It feels like Roarhaven is working against us. The citizens are unhappy with us, calling for results, when we barely have the manpower to fight the Guardians and do our normal duties. Protests are sapping our resources to make sure they don’t turn violent, but these are the same people demanding that we do other things.”
“I know,” Tantih said sympathetically. “But we have to do what is right. That’s the downside of being the good guy. We don’t have the luxury of being a step ahead of anything or having the time to hesitate,” she put a hand on Zani’s shoulder. “Don’t lose sight of the good we’ve done. The changes we’ve made. It’ll take time, but that’s why we live for so long.”
“Yeah,” Zani said sadly. She gestured to Martini. “What’s happening with him?”
Tanith sighed and dropped her hand. “Another reason for people to protest. The populace has decided now is a good time to engage in another debate about the ethics concerning the training of the Cleavers.”
“The Sensitives going through their minds to make them more efficient.”
“Exactly. And this one,” Tanith motioned to Martini, “isn’t helping. Ever since PoB died, Martini has been acting up. Not turning up for training, acting erratically. I’d retire him, but we need every Cleaver we can get our hands on, and with the protests going on, we’re not getting any fresh recruits. Not even from our usual sources.”
The ‘usual sources’ Tanith was referring to were the families of children that had demonstrated very little in magical ability. Not desiring the social stigma of having a child that could barely lift a pencil or light a fire, parents would often send their child to the Crucible to be trained by unknown people to become Cleavers. There, Sensitives would bend their magic towards physical combat, dampening their emotions and personalities in the process.
“Martini is thirty-years old,” Zani said. “He only has two years left. Do you think the magic from the Sensitives is waning?”
Tanith shrugged. “Maybe. Cleavers aren’t meant to act like this. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She walked towards Martini and grabbed him by the shoulders, issuing commands.
Zani felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned and realised it was Tuck. He gave her a tired smile. “The Supreme Mage contacted the Commander. He wants us back in time for the meeting.
“Of course,’ Zani said. “My favourite activity.”
Tuck grinned. “Trust me, I’d much rather be handling cold cases, or pursuing the Guardians, but if the Supreme Mage is meeting with the English and American Grand Mages, it has to be something important. As the Prime Detectives, we probably shouldn’t miss it.”
“No, you shouldn’t,’ came a clipped voice, as Commander Rylent stepped into view. “This is a very important meeting, and we need to be seen as a united force.”
Zani and Tuck looked at each other. “We’ll be there sir, you can count on it. It’s just…” Zani hesitated.
Rylent’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Detective?”
“Well… it’s just…” her words faltered.
“We suspect a mole,’ Tuck finished. “This is the fourth time we’ve been ambushed, and we know our communications are secure. There’s no way they would have known about it without inside help.”
Commander Rylent nodded slowly. “Yes. I know. I was hoping to keep this from all of you, because making it common knowledge makes it harder to weed the bastard out. But it’s only reasonable to assume you’d have eventually caught on,” he looked at the two of them. “You won’t inform the others of this. As far as they know, this was merely due to the location we’re in. The Eastern Quarter is known for its crime.”
They nodded their agreement. The commander sighed. “Ok then, let’s get going. The Supreme Mage will want a debriefing before the meeting.”

Hello guys, here I am with the solution for the Swedish House Mafia Quiz #2. I'll leave them under spoiler, so that you can still try. Hope you had fun!
Super easy: 1) Axwell Λ Ingrosso - Sun Is Shining 2) Swedish House Mafia - Greyhound 3) Swedish House Mafia - Ray of Solar 4) Axwell Λ Ingrosso - We Come, We Rave, We Love 5) Axwell, Ingrosso, Angello & Laidback Luke Feat. Deborah Cox - Leave the World Behind 6) Steve Angello Feat. Mako - Children of the Wild 7) Swedish House Mafia - Save the World 8) Axwell Λ Ingrosso - Dreamer 9) Fred again.. & Swedish House Mafia Feat. Future - Turn On The Lights again.. 10) Axwell - Barricade
Easy: 1) PARISI, Steve Angello & Sebastian Ingrosso - U Ok? 2) Steve Angello - Break Me Down 3) SICK INDIVIDUALS & Axwell Feat. Taylr Renee - I AM 4) Hook N Sling Feat. Karin Park - Tokyo By Night (Axwell Remix) 5) Coldplay vs. Swedish House Mafia - Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall 6) Axwell Λ Ingrosso - Something New 7) Axwell - Nobody Else 8) Swedish House Mafia - Another Minute 9) Axwell Feat. Max'C - I Found U (Remode) 10) David Guetta, Sebastian Ingrosso & Dirty South Feat. Julie McKnight - How Soon Is Now
Normal: 1) Axwell & Sebastian Ingrosso - Together 2) Kryder Feat. Steve Angello - Romani 3) Axwell - Heart Is King 4) Steve Angello - ME 5) Steve Angello & Still Young - Follow Me (Instrumental) 6) Steve Angello Feat. Gary Go - Prisoner 7) Axwell & Bob Sinclar Feat. Ron Carroll - What a Wonderful World 8) Swedish House Mafia - 19.30 9) Buy Now! - For Sale 10) C-Mos - 2 Million Ways (Axwell Remix)
Hard: 1) Steve Angello & Sebastian Ingrosso - Partouze 2) Steve Angello - Eros 3) AxEr - 321 4) Hard-Fi - Hard to Beat (Axwell Remix) 5) Axwell Λ Ingrosso & Salvatore Ganacci Feat. Pusha T & Silvana Imam - Can't Hold Us Down 6) Buy Now! & PARISI - Church 7) Julien Jabre - Swimming Places (Sebastian Ingrosso Re-Edit) 8) Steve Angello vs. Francesco Rossi Feat. David Garza - Revolution 9) Abel Ramos & Miss Melody - Rotterdam City of Love (Axwell Re-Edit) 10) Fireflies Feat. Alexandra Prince - I Can't Get Enough
Very hard: 1) Steve Angello - Sansation 2) Sebastian Ingrosso - Body Beat 3) Sheridan - Wants Vs. Needs (Sebastian Ingrosso Remix) 4) Steve Angello - Wanna 5) OXL - Listening Comprehension Test 6) Steve Angello & Sebastian Ingrosso - Yo Yo Kidz 7) Usher - Burn (Axwell Full Version) 8) Naughty Queen - Famous & Rich (Steve Angello & Sebastian Ingrosso Remix) 9) Afro Angel - Join Me Brother (Axwell Vocal Dub) 10) Tony Senghore - Peace (Sebastian Ingrosso's Stockholm Workout)
Impossible: 1) Tin Pan Alley - My Love Has Got A Gun (Axwell Radio Edit) 2) Steve Angello - Saxo Love 3) Bikini - Nite & Day (Axwell's Topless Remix) 4) Axwell - Dem Wicked Sound 5) Vintage Youth - Star Beach 7:am 6) Fuzzy Hair vs. Steve Angello - In Beat (Steve Angello's 2nd Mix) 7) Nanne - Vem Som Helst (Super Loop Remix) 8) Clipse Feat. Faith Evans - Ma, I Don't Love Her (Axwell Starbeach Mix) 9) Quazar - The Acid God Is Upon Us! 10) Outfunk - Echo Vibes (Outfunk Original Mix)