Queen bed with gas lift storage
We Redesign Rooms
2012.09.01 19:59 IotaGamer We Redesign Rooms
Welcome to DesignMyRoom! Do you need help transforming your living space? Then look no further, we can help with all of your decor and design needs!
2023.06.10 19:56 VeganNazarite Let’s Put It to the Test: Hebrews Part 5
Shabbat shalom everyone! Today I’m continuing the most important lesson ever. Many say that Yeshua abolished the Mosaic Law, and that the Old Testament is long gone and obsolete. Is the Law and the Prophets abolished? Let’s put the some of the writings of the New Testament to the test of the Law and the Prophets.
Last week we read that the author of Hebrews urges the Hebrews of the first century not to harden their hearts; if they hear the voice of Elohim or His spirit. The author calls the Hebrews of the of the first century not be like the fallen Israelites of the exodus during their forty years in the desert. What was missing from the fallen ones? It was faith in the promises and blessing of Yahweh. In addition, we learned that the “gospel” or the good news, according to the author is the Torah and not the story of Yeshua as is often said in modern churches.
Again, we can see that looking at the New Testament writings with the lens of the Torah, that the verses become clearer and there are no contradictions. Here is the score far:
The Torah: 15
Doctrines of Devils: 0
Let’s keep sharpening our proverbial spears and swords, which is the Word. Let’s continue our study of the epistle to the Hebrews. WMC no. 15 is Hebrews 4:2. In that verse we learn that the gospel according to the author of Hebrews are the blessings and promises that God gave to the Israelites in the Exodus.
Hebrews chapter 5:1-4
For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins: [2] Who can have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity. [3] And by reason hereof he ought, as for the people, so also for himself, to offer for sins. [4] And no man taketh this honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.
Last week the author declared Yeshua the son of God and pointed out to us the human nature of Yeshua, in example that he was tempted as each of us are in the earth, yet was without sin, and blameless in the eyes of Elohim. The author also urged us to keep our calling as priests, but with Yeshua as our High Priest. The author continues with that same idea, but this time shows us that all high priests are ordained from men with their infirmity. What infirmity is the author speaking about? Let’s go back to Galatians. In Galatians, Paul identifies that he himself has an infirmity:
Galatians 4:13-14
Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh I preached the gospel unto you at the first. [14] And my temptation which was in my flesh ye despised not*, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus.*
That infirmity is the flesh with its desires and temptations. High priests must have a human nature to be able to understand and have compassion towards the believers that have less understanding or that may be disobedient to Yahweh’s laws, statutes and ordinances. The author then declares that no man can take that honor by himself, but only those called by Father himself as Aaron was in the book of Exodus.
Hebrews chapter 5:5-10
So also Christ glorified not himself to be made an high priest; but he that said unto him, Thou art my Son, to day have I begotten thee.[6] As he saith also in another place, Thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec.[7] Who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared;[8] Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;[9] And being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him;[10] Called of God an high priest after the order of Melchisedec.
Then the author quotes Psalms 2:7 and Psalm 110:4 to prove to the Hebrews that in the scriptures, Yeshua was declared High Priest, not by his own admission, but rather by the righteous prophets and kings of old.
Hebrews chapter 5:11-14
[11] Of whom we have many things to say, and hard to be uttered, seeing ye are dull of hearing.[12] For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat.[13] For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness: for he is a babe.[14] But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil.
The writer then ends chapter 5 speaking to the unbelieving Hebrews in no uncertain terms. He states that they are “dull of hearing” and that they should be teachers, but because of their unbelief, not necessarily towards the messiah, but even way back as Israelites of the exodus, many fell in the desert, because they failed to have the faith to believe the promises and blessing from El Shaddai. He then calls them babes unskilled in the ways of Elohim. He then declares that the ones who exercise their senses and gifts of discernment, are the ones who can discern between good and evil. Sooooo, use them! Put your pastor, preacher, priest or rabbi to the test. If they have added or removed from the Torah, they need to be rejected as blind men, leading others blind men into the ditch (Matt 15:14).
Some of you may have noticed that I changed “Paul”, to “the author” in this post. Someone in the comments last week mentioned that Paul may not be the author of Hebrews. Maybe he is, maybe he is not. What I find important is that the author does not add or remove from the Torah. I don’t see any new things in Hebrews, and I do see the texts very similar to the words of Paul. Perhaps the wonderful blessings and salutations are missing for a reason. Perhaps they are missing because the author decided to consider the unbelieving Hebrews as cursed and lost, and the author decided to listen to the words of Jerimiah.
Jerimiah 7:16-18
[16] Therefore pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make intercession to me: for I will not hear thee.[17] Seest thou not what they do in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem?[18] The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough, to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods, that they may provoke me to anger.
Adonai, through the prophet Jerimiah tell his elect not to pray for Judah as they have lost their way through their idolatry. No wonder the author of Hebrews tells them that they need to be taught the “first principles of the oracles of God”. Those first principles are idolatry and taking care of the needy, as Yeshua teaches us.
Next week we will continue with chapter 6.
Don’t take it from me! Prove all things and judge for yourself. Let the spirit lead you where it wants you to be.
Yeshua is our master, savior and rabbi, we need no other man to lead us!
Shalom, VN
submitted by VeganNazarite to Christianity [link] [comments]
Last week we read that the author of Hebrews urges the Hebrews of the first century not to harden their hearts; if they hear the voice of Elohim or His spirit. The author calls the Hebrews of the of the first century not be like the fallen Israelites of the exodus during their forty years in the desert. What was missing from the fallen ones? It was faith in the promises and blessing of Yahweh. In addition, we learned that the “gospel” or the good news, according to the author is the Torah and not the story of Yeshua as is often said in modern churches.
Again, we can see that looking at the New Testament writings with the lens of the Torah, that the verses become clearer and there are no contradictions. Here is the score far:
The Torah: 15
Doctrines of Devils: 0
Let’s keep sharpening our proverbial spears and swords, which is the Word. Let’s continue our study of the epistle to the Hebrews. WMC no. 15 is Hebrews 4:2. In that verse we learn that the gospel according to the author of Hebrews are the blessings and promises that God gave to the Israelites in the Exodus.
Hebrews chapter 5:1-4
For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins: [2] Who can have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity. [3] And by reason hereof he ought, as for the people, so also for himself, to offer for sins. [4] And no man taketh this honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.
Last week the author declared Yeshua the son of God and pointed out to us the human nature of Yeshua, in example that he was tempted as each of us are in the earth, yet was without sin, and blameless in the eyes of Elohim. The author also urged us to keep our calling as priests, but with Yeshua as our High Priest. The author continues with that same idea, but this time shows us that all high priests are ordained from men with their infirmity. What infirmity is the author speaking about? Let’s go back to Galatians. In Galatians, Paul identifies that he himself has an infirmity:
Galatians 4:13-14
Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh I preached the gospel unto you at the first. [14] And my temptation which was in my flesh ye despised not*, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus.*
That infirmity is the flesh with its desires and temptations. High priests must have a human nature to be able to understand and have compassion towards the believers that have less understanding or that may be disobedient to Yahweh’s laws, statutes and ordinances. The author then declares that no man can take that honor by himself, but only those called by Father himself as Aaron was in the book of Exodus.
Hebrews chapter 5:5-10
So also Christ glorified not himself to be made an high priest; but he that said unto him, Thou art my Son, to day have I begotten thee.[6] As he saith also in another place, Thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec.[7] Who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared;[8] Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;[9] And being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him;[10] Called of God an high priest after the order of Melchisedec.
Then the author quotes Psalms 2:7 and Psalm 110:4 to prove to the Hebrews that in the scriptures, Yeshua was declared High Priest, not by his own admission, but rather by the righteous prophets and kings of old.
Hebrews chapter 5:11-14
[11] Of whom we have many things to say, and hard to be uttered, seeing ye are dull of hearing.[12] For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat.[13] For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness: for he is a babe.[14] But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil.
The writer then ends chapter 5 speaking to the unbelieving Hebrews in no uncertain terms. He states that they are “dull of hearing” and that they should be teachers, but because of their unbelief, not necessarily towards the messiah, but even way back as Israelites of the exodus, many fell in the desert, because they failed to have the faith to believe the promises and blessing from El Shaddai. He then calls them babes unskilled in the ways of Elohim. He then declares that the ones who exercise their senses and gifts of discernment, are the ones who can discern between good and evil. Sooooo, use them! Put your pastor, preacher, priest or rabbi to the test. If they have added or removed from the Torah, they need to be rejected as blind men, leading others blind men into the ditch (Matt 15:14).
Some of you may have noticed that I changed “Paul”, to “the author” in this post. Someone in the comments last week mentioned that Paul may not be the author of Hebrews. Maybe he is, maybe he is not. What I find important is that the author does not add or remove from the Torah. I don’t see any new things in Hebrews, and I do see the texts very similar to the words of Paul. Perhaps the wonderful blessings and salutations are missing for a reason. Perhaps they are missing because the author decided to consider the unbelieving Hebrews as cursed and lost, and the author decided to listen to the words of Jerimiah.
Jerimiah 7:16-18
[16] Therefore pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make intercession to me: for I will not hear thee.[17] Seest thou not what they do in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem?[18] The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough, to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods, that they may provoke me to anger.
Adonai, through the prophet Jerimiah tell his elect not to pray for Judah as they have lost their way through their idolatry. No wonder the author of Hebrews tells them that they need to be taught the “first principles of the oracles of God”. Those first principles are idolatry and taking care of the needy, as Yeshua teaches us.
Next week we will continue with chapter 6.
Don’t take it from me! Prove all things and judge for yourself. Let the spirit lead you where it wants you to be.
Yeshua is our master, savior and rabbi, we need no other man to lead us!
Shalom, VN
2023.06.10 19:54 SwitchbladeLobotomy Always respect the forest when you go camping. (Part 2)
Part 1
It’s been a day, and still no sign of anyone coming by. I was really hoping to be writing this in the comfort of my home, but apparently there’s other plans for me.
I’ve been out of food and water, it’s all back at the campsite and I can’t rightly go back there.
I guess I’ll keep on reliving what was going on, maybe that’ll make time pass faster.
Ivy and I had dashed away into the woods, the late evening sun rushing through the trees alongside us. We heard the panicked yells and footfalls of our friends as they also fled, and we knew the ranger would likely be close behind us.
As fucked up as this is, I could only hope and pray that he’d follow after them instead of us.
We ran for what felt like an hour, but from the lack of darkness, I know it couldn’t have been that long. The sun was going down slowly, lazily, like it does in the summer. At least Ivy had killed the guy’s ATV, he’d have to follow on foot…
Although with how big the fucker was, his strides were probably long enough that was a negligible issue. Shit.
We stopped for a breather, the woods still eerily silent. We could no longer hear screams, or hurried footsteps. Just our breathing, trying as best we can to keep quiet.
After some time, we started moving again, slower now. The light was starting to fade, and we decided our best course of action was to try and walk back to the cars and go get help. Of course, there was hardly any signal at the cars, and absolutely none once we got into the woods proper, but we hoped we could get through to 911, if nothing else.
I looked to one side as I stood up, and on my left, I could see a phone flashlight cutting through the branches, bobbing with each step. From where it was being held, it likely wasn’t tall enough to be the officer. I squinted, and once it got a bit closer, I could make out the distraught features of Greg, Jeremy’s brother. His girlfriend, Loretta, was close behind. Both of them looked like they’d been crying, which was… understandable, I guess.
Greg looked at Ivy and I, squinting past his light. “You guys seen him?”
We both shook our heads, and Loretta rolled her eyes. “I told you we should just go, Greg.”
He snapped his head back to her, a glare on his face. “We all need to get out of here, babe. I don’t wanna leave anyone behind.”
Before Loretta could respond, the sound of metal scraping on metal was heard, like in a movie when a knife is pulled from a sheath. I turned my head again, and saw the large, imposing figure of the ranger.
He stood about ten feet off, holding a hatchet in one hand. “Hey, there, kiddos. Using lights at night in the forest can really disturb the local flora and fauna of this here forest.”
With that sentence that sounded straight out of a PSA, he Hurled the hatchet, the head of it finding purchase in Greg’s thigh. He let out a scream and collapsed to the ground, holding the handle of the small axe as he writhed on the ground. The ranger grinned, the last few rays of sunlight illuminating his face enough to let us see his sick joy at the turn of events.
Loretta screamed and bolted back in the way her and Greg had come, and he looked after her for only a moment, before looking at Ivy and I. “Go on, get the hell out of here! Go!”
Ivy hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to help, but at the first footfall from the ranger, they nodded and took off, me following closely behind. As we took off, we could hear one last defiant shout from Greg.
“Fucking do it then! You goddamn freak! DO IT! Fucking ki-”
The word was cut off by the sound of impact on flesh, over and over. Eventually we ran far enough to escape the sound, and collapsed on the forest floor, breathing heavily.
We heard heavy footsteps treading, but not getting closer to us. They went parallel to us, eventually fading out into the night air.
We sat for about 20 minutes, listening for any sign of pursuit, or any sign of our friends. Right when we were about to get up and keep walking, we heard what sounded like a rope moving quickly? I can’t quite think of the words to describe it. It was close, we ran towards the sound and in about five minutes we saw Luke hanging upside-down from a tree, his bag resting on the ground near his head.
He looked at us as we approached, and quickly started shouting for help. Ivy and I both tried to shush him, but he wouldn’t listen, and we quickly heard the ranger making his way through the trees towards us again.
Luke seemed to realize what was coming, and he started screaming louder. Not for help, now, though. For Adam, for his mother, for God, anyone who could maybe hear him and send some giant eagles his way, so to speak.
The ranger emerged from the brush again, looking at his newly caught quarry with another grin. His uniform was stained with splatters of blood now, although his face was clean. His hatchet was tucked into his belt, now, and he was carrying a small bag on his back.
“Now, in this here forest we practice catch, tag, and release. These here snares are for catching, now I’ll tag, and then release.”
Luke tried to swing away from the man, but he reached behind the tree and pulled on a rope, and the snare gave suddenly, with Luke falling violently.
Due to his momentum in trying to swing away from the man, he didn’t land on his shoulder or have time to put his arms up to break his fall. He landed face first in the dirt, at a steep angle. His neck snapped, as did his back, and he folded over himself, his feet coming to rest near his head. His body gave one final shudder, and a wheezing, rattling gasp, before falling quiet.
The ranger cocked his head to one side, seemingly puzzled. I couldn’t help but think of a meme Ivy had sent me before this trip, asking why animals cock their heads when they see something strange.
What, does it make more sense at a 45 degree angle, bud?
The ranger coughed, still staring at Luke’s body. “Well. That, uh… Huh.”
He looked genuinely surprised, before shrugging and walking towards us.
Ivy, who’d been looking at Luke as well, a green tinge to their face, snapped their head up at the movement and bolted. I turned to watch them go, barely turning my head back to see the ranger swinging a fist at my head.
I yelped and dropped to my knees, barely dodging the swing. He snarled and tried to grab my hair, but I was able to dart between his legs and kick at the back of his left knee. He grunted and stumbled as I felt around wildly in the dirt. A solid stick, a rock, surely something here could help me…
The ranger stood back up, looming over me with a scowl. “Y’know, in this here forest we do our best to keep the paths clear. You’re not likely to find much that’ll help you bash my skull in, miss.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me off the ground, dirt still between my fingers. Desperately, as he lifted me to his eye level, I ripped off his sunglasses with one hand, flinging dirt into his eyes with the other.
The ranger swore, dropping me and rubbing at his face. I took the opportunity and darted into the woods, in the general direction that I saw Ivy run.
Bedding down again for the night. Like I said, there’s barely any signal out here, all my calls have been dropping before they can get anywhere. Gonna try and conserve battery on my phone, keep my hazards on and hope that someone comes by.
submitted by SwitchbladeLobotomy to nosleep [link] [comments]
It’s been a day, and still no sign of anyone coming by. I was really hoping to be writing this in the comfort of my home, but apparently there’s other plans for me.
I’ve been out of food and water, it’s all back at the campsite and I can’t rightly go back there.
I guess I’ll keep on reliving what was going on, maybe that’ll make time pass faster.
Ivy and I had dashed away into the woods, the late evening sun rushing through the trees alongside us. We heard the panicked yells and footfalls of our friends as they also fled, and we knew the ranger would likely be close behind us.
As fucked up as this is, I could only hope and pray that he’d follow after them instead of us.
We ran for what felt like an hour, but from the lack of darkness, I know it couldn’t have been that long. The sun was going down slowly, lazily, like it does in the summer. At least Ivy had killed the guy’s ATV, he’d have to follow on foot…
Although with how big the fucker was, his strides were probably long enough that was a negligible issue. Shit.
We stopped for a breather, the woods still eerily silent. We could no longer hear screams, or hurried footsteps. Just our breathing, trying as best we can to keep quiet.
After some time, we started moving again, slower now. The light was starting to fade, and we decided our best course of action was to try and walk back to the cars and go get help. Of course, there was hardly any signal at the cars, and absolutely none once we got into the woods proper, but we hoped we could get through to 911, if nothing else.
I looked to one side as I stood up, and on my left, I could see a phone flashlight cutting through the branches, bobbing with each step. From where it was being held, it likely wasn’t tall enough to be the officer. I squinted, and once it got a bit closer, I could make out the distraught features of Greg, Jeremy’s brother. His girlfriend, Loretta, was close behind. Both of them looked like they’d been crying, which was… understandable, I guess.
Greg looked at Ivy and I, squinting past his light. “You guys seen him?”
We both shook our heads, and Loretta rolled her eyes. “I told you we should just go, Greg.”
He snapped his head back to her, a glare on his face. “We all need to get out of here, babe. I don’t wanna leave anyone behind.”
Before Loretta could respond, the sound of metal scraping on metal was heard, like in a movie when a knife is pulled from a sheath. I turned my head again, and saw the large, imposing figure of the ranger.
He stood about ten feet off, holding a hatchet in one hand. “Hey, there, kiddos. Using lights at night in the forest can really disturb the local flora and fauna of this here forest.”
With that sentence that sounded straight out of a PSA, he Hurled the hatchet, the head of it finding purchase in Greg’s thigh. He let out a scream and collapsed to the ground, holding the handle of the small axe as he writhed on the ground. The ranger grinned, the last few rays of sunlight illuminating his face enough to let us see his sick joy at the turn of events.
Loretta screamed and bolted back in the way her and Greg had come, and he looked after her for only a moment, before looking at Ivy and I. “Go on, get the hell out of here! Go!”
Ivy hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to help, but at the first footfall from the ranger, they nodded and took off, me following closely behind. As we took off, we could hear one last defiant shout from Greg.
“Fucking do it then! You goddamn freak! DO IT! Fucking ki-”
The word was cut off by the sound of impact on flesh, over and over. Eventually we ran far enough to escape the sound, and collapsed on the forest floor, breathing heavily.
We heard heavy footsteps treading, but not getting closer to us. They went parallel to us, eventually fading out into the night air.
We sat for about 20 minutes, listening for any sign of pursuit, or any sign of our friends. Right when we were about to get up and keep walking, we heard what sounded like a rope moving quickly? I can’t quite think of the words to describe it. It was close, we ran towards the sound and in about five minutes we saw Luke hanging upside-down from a tree, his bag resting on the ground near his head.
He looked at us as we approached, and quickly started shouting for help. Ivy and I both tried to shush him, but he wouldn’t listen, and we quickly heard the ranger making his way through the trees towards us again.
Luke seemed to realize what was coming, and he started screaming louder. Not for help, now, though. For Adam, for his mother, for God, anyone who could maybe hear him and send some giant eagles his way, so to speak.
The ranger emerged from the brush again, looking at his newly caught quarry with another grin. His uniform was stained with splatters of blood now, although his face was clean. His hatchet was tucked into his belt, now, and he was carrying a small bag on his back.
“Now, in this here forest we practice catch, tag, and release. These here snares are for catching, now I’ll tag, and then release.”
Luke tried to swing away from the man, but he reached behind the tree and pulled on a rope, and the snare gave suddenly, with Luke falling violently.
Due to his momentum in trying to swing away from the man, he didn’t land on his shoulder or have time to put his arms up to break his fall. He landed face first in the dirt, at a steep angle. His neck snapped, as did his back, and he folded over himself, his feet coming to rest near his head. His body gave one final shudder, and a wheezing, rattling gasp, before falling quiet.
The ranger cocked his head to one side, seemingly puzzled. I couldn’t help but think of a meme Ivy had sent me before this trip, asking why animals cock their heads when they see something strange.
What, does it make more sense at a 45 degree angle, bud?
The ranger coughed, still staring at Luke’s body. “Well. That, uh… Huh.”
He looked genuinely surprised, before shrugging and walking towards us.
Ivy, who’d been looking at Luke as well, a green tinge to their face, snapped their head up at the movement and bolted. I turned to watch them go, barely turning my head back to see the ranger swinging a fist at my head.
I yelped and dropped to my knees, barely dodging the swing. He snarled and tried to grab my hair, but I was able to dart between his legs and kick at the back of his left knee. He grunted and stumbled as I felt around wildly in the dirt. A solid stick, a rock, surely something here could help me…
The ranger stood back up, looming over me with a scowl. “Y’know, in this here forest we do our best to keep the paths clear. You’re not likely to find much that’ll help you bash my skull in, miss.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me off the ground, dirt still between my fingers. Desperately, as he lifted me to his eye level, I ripped off his sunglasses with one hand, flinging dirt into his eyes with the other.
The ranger swore, dropping me and rubbing at his face. I took the opportunity and darted into the woods, in the general direction that I saw Ivy run.
2023.06.10 19:54 ParmPalace Would you rather be trapped in a shed with your crush for 6 months or alone for 3 months?
What it has:
A window you can open. AC & HEAT. A queen sized bed TV with streaming & video games.
View Poll
submitted by ParmPalace to WouldYouRather [link] [comments]
A window you can open. AC & HEAT. A queen sized bed TV with streaming & video games.
View Poll
2023.06.10 19:53 techfinesse Bed Slats Frame
Please help to point me in the right direction if I should ask in another subreddit.
I have a Queen bed with Slats. The slats are secured to metal in the middle but on both sides connected to wood. (Please see imgur link below for visuals). The wood on one side has completely broken and fallen off so the bed obviously sinks on that side. I have just been putting like a suitcase there so it won’t sink in but how do I fix it permanently? I have no idea how I would even start to reattach the wood so should I just switch to box spring?
https://imgur.com/a/6r9MOFx
submitted by techfinesse to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]
I have a Queen bed with Slats. The slats are secured to metal in the middle but on both sides connected to wood. (Please see imgur link below for visuals). The wood on one side has completely broken and fallen off so the bed obviously sinks on that side. I have just been putting like a suitcase there so it won’t sink in but how do I fix it permanently? I have no idea how I would even start to reattach the wood so should I just switch to box spring?
https://imgur.com/a/6r9MOFx
2023.06.10 19:51 Key_Point_4063 Dating advice?
So I (27M) have been struggling with ED for years. It has made me basically give up on dating or trying to have sex on dating apps like bumble and tinder. Well I met this girl the other night at a bar, and we really hit it off. She wants to hangout sometime this weekend, and on top of having Ed, I am also a virgin. Needless to say, I'm kind of terrified I won't be able to please in bed. We have already been sexting and flirting really heavy, so I feel like whenever the next time we hangout is, something is bound to happen. I need to know if one of those rhino gas station pills would work in a pinch? Since to get prescribed something like viagra, I don't think you can get it in less than 24 hours. Should I find a way to just postpone hanging out with her until I get a prescription? I'd hate to disappoint her and myself if I just decide to wing it and see how it goes. She seems to be a lot more experienced and is obviously expecting me to perform somewhat adequately. Last time I almost had sex, I busted in the condom b4 I could put it in :(. Ever since, i have been too embarrassed to try again, and I feel like a lot of men can probably relate to this in some way. I just need some advice on what to do. Like my shit still works, it just doesn't stay rock hard for long like it used to when I was younger. Has anyone tried horny goat weed, red ginseng, yohimbine, l-arginine, and DHEA? Or something similar that's over the counter you can buy without a prescription? I need something like viagra I can take a couple hours b4 I see her.
submitted by Key_Point_4063 to erectiledysfunction [link] [comments]
2023.06.10 19:50 swirl3d How well do currants do in pots?
A friend has just giving me a blackcurrant and jostaberry. Both quite mature, in big (15l?) pots, with fruit forming.
I would like to plant them out in my garden (either in a shady south east facing bed near a birch tree or a south facing bed that tends to get a bit dry) BUT am possibly going to be moving in 18 months and would like to take them with me.
Should I plant them and lift when (if) I move or keep them going in pots?
I have some large trugs I could put holes in potentially
submitted by swirl3d to GardeningUK [link] [comments]
I would like to plant them out in my garden (either in a shady south east facing bed near a birch tree or a south facing bed that tends to get a bit dry) BUT am possibly going to be moving in 18 months and would like to take them with me.
Should I plant them and lift when (if) I move or keep them going in pots?
I have some large trugs I could put holes in potentially
2023.06.10 19:43 InitialSkill927 "The Story of the Strongest Swordsman in Academy" - Kamen Rider Saber Origin Story
The Story of the Strongest Swordsman in Academy - Kamen Rider Saber Origin Story (強き剣士学園の物語 − 仮面ライダーセイバーの起源, Tsuyoki kenshi gakuen no monogatari − kamen raidā seibā no kigen, lit "The Story of Strong Swordsman Academy - The Origin of Kamen Rider Saber")
Plot: The human world collides with a realm of fairy tales called Wonder World due to a conflict over the Omniscient Tome – a legendary artifact of unparalleled power as a trio of monsters called the Megids mount a failed attempt to claim it and create more of their kind.
A 17 years old young man named Jason who found himself lost in the forest after being awakened in coma. He set out to his journey and discover his new strength and abilities that makes him stronger.
This is the origin story of Kamen Rider Saber from a thousand years ago.
Main Characters:
Public Morals Committee (風紀委会, Fūki-i-kai):
submitted by InitialSkill927 to IsekaiWorkshop [link] [comments]
Plot: The human world collides with a realm of fairy tales called Wonder World due to a conflict over the Omniscient Tome – a legendary artifact of unparalleled power as a trio of monsters called the Megids mount a failed attempt to claim it and create more of their kind.
A 17 years old young man named Jason who found himself lost in the forest after being awakened in coma. He set out to his journey and discover his new strength and abilities that makes him stronger.
This is the origin story of Kamen Rider Saber from a thousand years ago.
Main Characters:
- Jason (ジェイソン, Jeison) - aka The Flame Swordsman, Saber (炎の剣士、セイバー, Honō no kenshi, seibā), Age: 17, Year 1 Class-A - A main protagonist of the series who have awakened in coma and found himself lost in forest. He has no family, no village, just him alone. Later with the girl name Estelle Oceanne she invite him and enrol to Logos Holy Knight Academy. With his "Flame Sword Rekka" (火炎剣烈火, Kaenken Rekka), he fights in fair and square with courage and guidance by his sword. Jason uses his mana to equip fire magic and summon the red fiery dragon known as "Courageous Dragon".
- Estelle Oceanne (エステル・オシアンヌ, Esuteru oshian'nu) - aka The Water Swordswoman, Blades (水の剣士、ブレイズ, Mizu no kenshi, bureizu), Age: 15, Year 1 Class-A - A blonde hair girl who is a royal family of Oceanne Estate and a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy. She saw Jason as he fight his sword style technique, she find him very interesting. She chose him to stay at her estate so that she can teaches him about the academy, the swords and mana ability. With her "Water Current Sword Nagare" (水勢剣流水, Suiseiken Nagare), she fight elegantly, flow like a water with traditional Spanish fencing styles technique. Estelle uses her mana to equip water magic and summon the blue mane lion known as "King of the Beast".
- Roberto Dylando (ロベルト・ディランド, Roberuto dirando) - aka The Thunder Swordsman, Espada (雷の剣士、エスパダ, Kaminari no kenshi, esupada), Age: 17, Year 1 Class-B - A young man who is Estelle's classmate from different class. He is strong, reliable with his trust and strength. With his "Thunderclap Sword Ikazuchi" (雷鳴剣黄雷, Raimeiken Ikazuchi), he fight with electric power with speed and strength. Roberto uses his mana to equip lightning magic and summon the golden Genie known as "Lamp Spirit".
Public Morals Committee (風紀委会, Fūki-i-kai):
- Maya Mirabella (マヤ・ミラベラ, Maya Mirabera) - Leader of Public Moral Committee, Age: 19, Year 3 Class-A - She is a student of Academy Year 3. She has a tomboyish personality, she is also interested in Jason and his sword style technique. She is left-handed with her sword, her mana ability is light magic to manipulate particle attacks.
- Taven Grayson (タヴェン・グレイソン, Tavu~en gureison) - aka The Land Swordsman, Buster (土地の剣士、バスター, Tochi no kenshi, basutā), Age: 18, Year 2 Class-B - He is a tall strong man who is a student of Academy Year 2-B and who look after his little brother Telos. He is laughable, hot-headed, but very strong with his greatsword "Earth Master Sword Gekido" (土豪剣激土, Dogōken Gekido), he is unstoppable with a heavy weapon he carried.
- Sosuke Midoriko (ミドリコ・ソウスケ, Midoriko Sōsuke) - aka The Wind Swordsman, Kenzan (風の剣士、ケンザン, Kaze no kenshi, kenzan), Age: 15, Year 1 Class-E - An energetic young man who is a student of Academy Year 1-E. He was from Japanese nation who trained a Ninjutsu. With his double swords "Wind Twin Sword Hayate" (風双剣翠風, Fūsōken Hayate), he fight to believe that strength is justice. His twin sword can change it into shuriken, two-sword style and one-sword style.
- Yoko Hibiki (ヒビキ・ヨコ, Hibiki Yoko) - aka The Sound Swordswoman, Slash (音の剣士、スラッシュ, Oto no kenshi, surasshu), Age: 18, Year 2 Class-A - A glasses girl who is a student of Academy Year 2-A and a swordsmith of her class. She listen to music on her headphone and she always cover her eyes or face with her hand. In combat, she's uses an enhanced hearing and senses her enemy who is tracking her. With her katana "Sound Sword Suzune" (音響剣錫音, Onkyōken Suzune), she is highly experience by blocking and parry enemies' attacks like a samurai.
- Kuroiwa Kageyama (カゲヤマ・クロイワ, Kageyama Kuroiwa) - aka The Dark Swordsman, Calibur (闇の剣士、カリバー, Yami no kenshi, karibā), Age: 19, Year-3 Class A - Kuroiwa is a student of Year 3, same class as Maya. He has some cold personality, but he's more than a lone wolf. His sword technique are much like a Ronin, with his katana "Dark Sword Kurayami" (暗黒剣月闇, Ankokuken Kurayami), he'll have no mercy but to strike the enemy who stands in his way.
- Meldy Carmen (メルディカルメン, Merudi Karumen) - Student Council President of Logos Holy Knight Academy, Age: 18, Year 3 Class A - Meldy is Student Council President of the Academy who has a coy and innocent-façade. Meldy is talented with one-handed rapier-style and form her mana as her offensive magic with dry ice magic. She is also Maya's closest friend.
- Haruka Suzumura (スズムラ・ハルカ, Suzumura Haruka) - Student Council Treasurer of Logos Holy Knight Academy, Age: 19, Year 3 Class-A - Haruka is a Treasurer of Student Councils who is calm, perceptive, intelligent and good person who is really good at analysis.
- Cathy Villia (キャシー・ヴィリア, Kyashī vu~iria) - Student Council Secretary of Logos Holy Knight Academy, Age: 17, Year 2-A - Cathy is a secretary of Student Council who is very shy and timid. She has an interest of sword crafting, holy swords, the books and suspecting Jason is unrecognisably the new Saber.
- Stacey Luckwell (ステイシー・ラックウェル, Suteishī rakkuu~eru) - Year 1 Class-A, Age: 15 - Stella is a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy who is described as someone whose appearance would easily qualify within the boundaries of cuteness. She also has very large breasts and a curvaceous figure. She is in the same class as Estelle and Haley.
- Haley Violette (ヘイリー・ヴァイオレット, Heirī vu~aioretto) - Year 1 Class-A, Age: 15 - Haley is Stella's best friend and a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy who is a mature and tactful girl and rarely shows emotion. She is in the same class as Estelle and Stacey.
- Joshua Mitchwell (ジョシュア・ミッチウェル, Joshua mitchiu~eru) - Year 1 Class-A, Age: 16 - Joshua is a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy who is inspired to be a hero when he was younger. He was inspired by Jason's sword technique and wishing him to become his apprentice.
- Pam Blossommary (パム・ブロッサムマリー, Pamu burossamumarī) - Year 1 Class-A, Age: 15 - Pam is a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy who is timid and childhood friend of Joshua. She want to useful to help her friends and fight with them.
- Aoi Mizunami (ミズナミ・アオイ, Mizunami Aoi) - Year 1 Class-A, Age: 17 - Aoi is a student of Logos Holy Knight Academy who has some tomboyish and optimistic personality. She owes Jason for saving her from the School festival employees and she took an interest of him for witness his hidden strength by lifting the heaviest block and jog around the course with Estelle. She is trained swordswoman of her clan, she uses her mana ability to enhanced her reversed-blade katana (逆刃刀, sakabatō) and her combat techniques.
- Carlos Di Sandrois (カルロス・ディ・サンドロワ - Karurosu di sandorowa) - Year 1 Class-B, Age: 17 - Carlos is a student of Logo Holy Knight Academy who is in the same class as Roberto and he is Roberto's classmate.
- Bethany Laniez (ベサニー・ラニエズ, Besanī raniezu) - Bethany is a teacher of Year 1 Class A, staff member of Logos Holy Knight Academy. She teaches the students with many trials and challenges to show their own potential skills. She is kind-hearted, but with Jason and Estelle around for doing the challenges very quickly, she become developed unpleasant to the two so then she's giving them a hardest challenge such as double the weight or add extra minutes to do the challenges.
- Cecilia Lumera (セシリア・ルメラ, Seshiria rumera) - Queen of Lumera Kingdom, Master Logos - She is a Queen and the current Master Logos, her duty is to protect the Wonder World and her people.
- Milianda Lumera (ミリアンダ・ルメラ, Mirianda rumera) - Daughter of Queen Cecilia, Princess of Lumera Kingdom - Milianda is a daughter of Queen Cecilia and the Princess of Lumera who is fond to the Wonder World outside and the story books of fairy tales.
- First Master Logos (初代のマスターロゴ, Shodai no masutārogo) - The first Master Logos was the first known holder of the title and the founder of the Sword of Logos. Before his passing, he passes on to Cecilia who is now a new Master Logo and the Queen of her kingdom.
- Marina Oceanne (マリナ・オシアンヌ, Marina oshian'nu) - Marina is Estelles's mother of Oceanne Family who look after her ever since her father went off to his journey to unknown. She deeply care of Estelle very much since she was a proud daughter of her family.
- Sharr Kahn (シャア・カーン, Sha kān) - aka The Void Swordsman, Falchion, (無の剣士、ファルシオン, Mu no kenshi, farushion), Year 3 Class A of Emblem Supreme Knight Academy - Sharr is a student of Emblem Supreme Knight Academy, a rival school of Logos Holy Knight Academy. He's one of the most strongest swordsman in his academy. With his younger sister Shara, he seemly not even care of her but he only care is to beating the students to the bloody pulp.
- Shara Kahn (シャラ・カーン, Shara kān) - Year 1 Class C of Logos Holy Knight Academy - Shara is a student of Holy Knight Academy that met Jason at the festival events. As a result she is Sharr's younger sister who decided to enrol at the Holy Knight Academy. She find Jason and his sword and understood about honor. She might have crush on Jason unrequintedly.
- The Mysterious man (謎の男, Nazo no otoko) - A lone caped warrior wondered around in Wonder World and discover the mystery from the past.
- Sophia (ソフィア, Sofia) - Sophia is a mystic and the guardian of the Sword of Logos' Northern Base. She is a narrator of the series.
- Storius (ストリウス, Sutoriusu) - Storious is a dark and reserved Megid who controls the genre of stories and values knowledge above all else. 1,000 years prior, he was originally a poet who found enjoyment in creating new stories.
- Legeiel (レジエル, Rejieru) - Legeiel is a calm, manipulative Megid who controls the genre of mythical creatures and was originally a humble and friendly individual. Unlike his peers, he does not want to be actively involved, only lending his help when necessary. However, his pride often gets the better of him, especially when things do not go his way.
- Zoous (ズオス, Zuosu) - Zoous is a cruel, hot-headed Megid who controls the genre of animals and was originally a calm and cheerful individual. In spite of his brutish personality, he prefers to fight worthy opponents, sparing those he considers weak or unmotivated to provoke and humiliate them into becoming stronger or more aggressive should they re-encounter each other in battle.
- Desast (デザスト, Dezasuto) - Desast is a hybrid Megid who Storius created on a whim with no purpose in mind, which Desast compensates by fighting ideal opponents.
- Weevil (ウィービル, U~ībiru) - a young prince of his kingdom who is sadistic and mad man with is arrogant and pride personality. He looked down on them who is no use for him. He can do whatever he want when he killed people by tearing off victims limbs.
- Shimi (シミー, Shimi) - Shimi are the footsoldiers of Megid.
2023.06.10 19:34 tulpacat1 To Kill a Predator, Finale
Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
---
Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: January 10th, 2137
Without the girls, life settles into a boring rut. I talk to them as much as I can on the pad, but they’re busy on Earth, hitting the ground running.
There’s been a lot of ground to cover before they’re caught up to where everyone else will be, particularly for Vilek. She’s often had to pull double-claws of studying, working her fluffy ass off to gain a baseline understanding of psychology in record time. Thiva’s classes on VP by contrast have prepared her well for humanity’s relatively simple technology.
That, and they’ve had to get used to Earth. Earth food, Earth culture, and a planet full of omnivores with forward-facing eyes. I’ve been doing what little I can to help coach and encourage them.
For my own part I’ve been restless. Given that I’m not able to look for a job yet, that physical therapy kicks my ass every other paw, and that I’ve got nothing to do other than look forward to a half-hour of chatting with my friends… I’ve started up on software again. It’s something I can do even while laying prone. Particularly since I have a way to write without using my hands.
What do I do with that, anyway? I can read minds. I can even use the raw data from a full brain scan to extract memories. There’s got to be something useful to do with this. It’s practically the only part of this entire debacle I haven’t bothered telling the UN about.
Honestly after what I’ve been through, I can’t imagine trusting them, or the Venlil government, with this. Bastards would be prosecuting thought-crime by the end of the week.
Jarkim’s opened his business a couple of weeks back. Without an actual office, since he plans to simply operate out of Slavik’s farm. As I understand they tolerate it as long as he also helps out in return for food and board. I hope the arrangement works out for the both of them.
I gave Jarkim some help with his online presence. He wasn’t initially sure about the black and white picture of him in a fedora and a tie, or about the business name “Jarkim Krakotl, Private Eye”. But as soon as humans heard about Venlil Prime’s only Krakotl detective they’ve ended up coming to him with their problems.
He sent me a picture of his first solved case, some runaway kid who got lost and reunited with her mother. He was still wearing the hat. No tie, though.
Today is my paw off from Chasa’s torments, and it coincides with the launch of another exciting new business venture. So I take the time to visit Mosun.
“Hey Martin! Hold on a minute!” I see the Yotul wrangling a bunch of foam mats around the large, empty room. And its wall-length mirror. Fittingly the place look like the midway point between a dance studio and a martial arts dojo, except for the soft and spongy floor. It’s meant to safeguard against falls.
I glance around the room while he huffs and plops the last few ones down. There’s perhaps thirty-five or forty foam mats scattered on the floor. “So are you being optimistic, or did you get a good reception?”
He looks at me, bouncing with excitement. Though his ears signal a bit of nervousness. “Five Yotul have signed up so far! That’s almost half the Yotul in the entire town! And almost twenty humans! Hanya’s bringing a couple of Gojid friends too, and we’ve got a few Venlil coming along with their humans… Oh, and an Iftali, that was a surprise. Honestly I may be a little in over my head here; I’ve never taught crowds before! I’m not even sure how much will translate across species!”
“So you’ll be learning on the job. I have complete faith in you. Are the Exterminators going to give you any trouble?”
He barks a laugh. “Hah! No, Jarkim had a talk with the magister. I got permission from Vaska’s office to teach the classes in the name of cultural preservation, so those motherfuckers can’t touch me!”
I laugh as well. “You might need to censor your language a bit as a teacher.”
“Combat Dancing is about honesty and expression, Martin. If I can’t live it, how am I supposed to teach it?”
Well, he got me there. “Anything I can do to help?”
He glances at me, his voice gets a little uncomfortable. “Um, I don’t know. Can you carry heavy stuff right now?”
I shrug. “Probably not, no.”
“Then I’ll be fine. You’re not interested in taking the class?”
“I think my dancing days are over, for the foreseeable future.” I wryly lift my cane and wave it as a small reminder. It’s wood, and I’m quite fond of it. Chasa found a Venlil craftsman who wanted to be the first to make one for a human, and he made it out of the wood of some kind of tree called Lampan. The color reminds me of mahogany.
His ears droop a bit. “Ah yeah. How permanent is that looking?”
I shrug. “Finger dexterity on the right hand’s likely never going to be the same, but I’ll be able to play video games. Left arm should recover enough for daily use. Leg should get a full range of motion, but I won’t be going jogging. Thankfully I look dignified with a cane.”
He wags his tail teasingly and cocks his head as he regards me. “Do you? …Must be a human thing.”
“Piss off. Mind if I sit in on the class?”
“Of course not!”
Turns out first class of Yotul Combat Dancing is a quick demonstration, and then Mosun talking to the quite large and varied crowd. He talks about the history and cultural significance of Combat Dances to the Yotul, the philosophical underpinnings of the artform, and the mentality to be cultivated in practitioners.
Everyone is listening with rapt attention, and a few of the humans are even taking notes. When he opens the floor for questions, a Venlil asks “Isn’t this an expression of Predator Disease?”
To which Mosun answers “No. Next question?”
Which is honestly as much of a response as that warrants.
I talk with Hanya briefly after the class. She says that she’s been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that human therapy is helping her out. She even talks excitedly about piloting shuttles again, someday soon. I’m glad for her.
Once I get back to the house, there’s a man in a suit waiting for me. He’s tall, bald, and has very dark skin. I don’t recognize him. He extends his hand toward me, and I shake it. He speaks English with an African accent, instead of letting the translator handle it. I’d guess western Africa, but I’m hardly an expert. “Bamidele Adeyemi.”
“Martin Russo. Can I help you?”
He indicates the door. “May I come in?”
“Sure. My Venlil hosts aren’t home right now.”
“Of course.”
Once he’s been let in, and I’ve given him something to drink, I wait patiently for him to explain his presence.
“I am the UN liason to the district magister’s office.”
I keep my tone neutral and politely curious. “What happened to Robert McGinley?”
He keeps his tone neutral too, but friendly. He smiles at me. “It was decided that he should be replaced.”
Oh no. Anyway. “Alright. But… No offense mister Adeyemi, but why are you here?”
He takes out a pad. “I have some documents that the UN and the District Magister would like you to sign.”
I sigh inwardly and make a quite heroic effort to not sigh outwardly. I look at the pad briefly anyway. As I expected, it’s about making myself legally liable should I speak up about what I’ve gone through. “I’m afraid you are wasting your time. McGinley told me to sign papers like this too, and I told him ‘no’.”
He nods, entirely unsurprised. “I understand you signed similar documents over a smaller… altercation with the Exterminators. Why the difference of response, if I may ask?”
“Because the first time he threatened to have me thrown out of the refugee center if I didn’t.”
Bamidele’s eyes widen briefly. “I see. That does explain why you told him to ‘fuck off’.”
“Yes.” I pause briefly. “…You’ve been polite enough that I don’t want to use the same language. But.”
He laughs briefly. “Haha, yes, I understand. Different circumstances, yes? My predecessor tried the stick. I am here to try the carrot. So tell me, mister Russo, what will it take for you to sign?”
“There’s nothing that…” I pause.
I sit down. I’m briefly quiet. I miss my friends so goddamn much. I swallow, mouth feeling dry as I tentatively reach for the proffered lifeline. “I… hear Sweden’s lovely this time of year.”
He flashes his teeth at me in a broad smile and chuckles pleasantly. “Hehe, I thought you might say that. But… You do realize it is January?”
Date [standardized human time]: January 12th, 2137
The thought of leaving this wretched planet and its wretched food and its wretched government and its wretched ever-present sun makes me feel like I’m already back in Earth’s lighter gravity.
I ended up paying Chasa back for all the pain and suffering she inflicted on me: The largest gift basket I could find online, filled with fruits, candies, and preserves of both Zurulian and human origin.
When I wake up at the start of the paw, my arch-nemesis has sent me two pictures. The first one is a schedule to keep for the next couple of months. In the second picture she’s put pillows and blankets in the basket and is using it as a bed, a paw raised in goodbye.
If the medi-teddies ever learn to weaponize their cuteness, humanity is in real trouble.
Packing is easy. I don’t have a lot. A band shirt from when I went to see ‘Where Angels Fear’, a few bad sketches of fruit, my dad's chess set, my pad, and a neural scanner.
Date [standardized human time]: January 13th, 2137
The space flight actually lands directly in Sweden, somewhere north of the polar circle at a place called Esrange. I immediately realize that winter’s back on the menu, as the cold makes my left leg and arm ache like hell. It’s the dead of night, too… But I’ve missed night. So has everyone else, as despite the cold people are walking straight out into the snow to just stare up into the starry sky and stare in open awe at the sky, where the stars form a backdrop for the northern lights. I join them.
A poetic whimsy falls over me, making me grin at the cheesiness. It’s like the sky itself is welcoming us back home.
From Esrange we take cars to Kiruna, Sweden’s northernmost city. From there it’s a long train ride south. I’ve gotten a sleeper cabin. With the generous stipend from the UN, I have no need to scrimp.
Even so, it takes significantly longer to travel 1400 kilometers across Sweden than it did to travel 16 light-years from Gliese 832. I’ve got almost twenty hours to appreciate the irony.
Date [standardized human time]: January 14th, 2137
I’m met at the train station in Lund by a man holding a sign with my name on it. His car takes me directly to the university. Everything feels very… ordinary, except I’m a bit dazed at having so many humans around me again.
We arrive a little before 8 in the morning. Excited students scurry to and fro, eager and hopeful for the first day of spring term. The driver is named Markus, and very kindly helps me find my way to my meeting. I’m left outside a door, standing around awkwardly.
The man I’m meeting with is Jonas Falck, and he’s the head of the department of computer science. While the UN has ‘encouraged’ the university to take me in despite it being so close to the term start, the decision remains with him.
I really wanted to see the girls first, but the meeting time was set for me. I desperately wish I had thought to shave beforehand. I’ve been using my beard to hide my weak chin, but it probably looks more unprofessional than-
“Hey, are you Martin Russo?”
Ah, I see.
Mister Falck is holding two cups of coffee and offers one of them to me with a smile. He’s got a full beard, a full belly, hair past his shoulders, and a pink hawaiian shirt to go with his khaki shorts and flip-flops. This man is clearly one of the most talented professionals working in the field today.
“So, do you mind if I ask…” He motions to my cane while I take a seat.
“How that happened?”
“Yes.”
“That’s classified. I’m not even joking.”
He nods once, like that was more or less what he expected to hear. He leans back in his chair, which creaks a bit, and takes a slow drink from his coffee while reading on his computer. “So you studied at Columbia University before the Bombing?”
“Yes.”
“And your family lived in New York?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but he does say it as rote. ‘Oh you’re from one of the places that doesn’t exist anymore? Sorry to hear that.’
I nod awkwardly. “Yes.”
“And you were focusing on studying brain-computer interfacing?”
I feel like a recording. “Yes.”
“It’s very uncommon to add a student this late. The term begins today.”
“Yes.”
“We can’t provide housing for you on such a short notice, for one.”
“I have that handled, sir.”
He scrunches his face up. “Jonas, please. Americans are so formal.”
“Alright, er, Jonas.”
“So, Martin, what I’m asking for is a reason. To take you in right now, I mean, instead of next year.”
I nod. This is thankfully something I had planned for. My hand slips into my pocket, fingering the box holding the scanner electrodes. “Well, Jonas… I think there’s something you should take a look at.”
Handling paperwork and basic orientation takes most of the morning. I manage to get morning-and-evening classes to share my time off with the lambchops. That only works because most people don’t want evening classes. Evenings are for partying if you’re a student, so late classes are mostly for adults with jobs.
I end up standing around nervously by the entrance to the university building, counting down the time. I watch people passing by as calmly as I can, still checking my pad every minute or so for any messages and jerking my head around like a bird at anything that’s even a bit of a shade of gray.
I can tell the alien girls are coming even before I see them, since everyone is glancing curiously their way. I straighten my back and shift my weight from foot to foot. I feel like a dog at an airport, waiting for the return of its owner.
They’re looking around as I see them, and Thiva’s the first to spot me. Her ears perk up and Vilek immediately looks to me as well. As they speed up into a sprint, I’m a bit surprised to see them both wearing clothes. Both girls are wearing custom boots made to fit their digitigrade legs.
They’re both wearing coveralls, Vilek’s in a hospital teal and Thiva’s in a bright red. It’s been explained to me that many at the university have a student culture of wearing colorful coveralls that they decorate with patches, called ‘Ovve’, and that Thiva’s red marks her as a mechanical engineering student. Vileks’s teal, presumably, mark her as studying healthcare. Or specifically therapy, perhaps. I need to look it up.
Seeing as computer science students are apparently expected to wear pink ones, I’m thinking I might sit out this grand and colorful tradition. On the other hand according to the Internet it’s an informal rule to cut a bit from the ‘Ovve’ of anyone you’ve exchanged body fluids with and patch it onto your own. So I suppose I could be convinced.
The girls collide with me, thankfully gently. Their tails are wagging like crazy out of the back of their outfits, and they’re clinging to me. I inhale deeply, take in the distinct and pleasant scent of my cute Venlil friends, and cling to them as well. My fingers stroke through their thick fur, and I hear their happy wordless bleating and whistling.
I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, not giving one whit for the passersby watching the scene.
“Oh, girls, I-” Vilek punches me in the arm unexpectedly. The right one, thankfully.
“Ow!”
Even though her ears signal joy and her tail is wagging, her voice is still stern. “We learned what ‘lambchops’ means!”
Ah.
The student flat isn’t very expansive, but it’s larger than the one we shared on Venlil Prime. Probably because humans are just plain larger.
It’s currently sparsely furnished. There’s a couple of desks, a couch, a table, a beanbag chair, and a bunk bed. I take my shoes off in the hallway, as the girls do. When in Lund.
They help me unpack. There’s not a lot, but they had already set aside a little corner for me. I’ve got the beanbag chair instead of a desk, which I’m perfectly fine with.
I sigh and lean against a wall briefly. “I’m… so glad to be home.”
Thiva turns her head a little, flicking an ear in question. “You missed being on Earth?”
I chuckle, and pinch her ear-tip lightly. I lean over to give Vilek one too, for fairness. It earns me a pair of bleeps from them, and I go on the offensive to rub their heads and scratch their ears and do everything I can to make the lambchops squeal happily. They thankfully oblige. “I missed being with my herd.”
My friends are safe, they’re here with me, and we all have paths forward. I’ve fought and bled for this opportunity. I’m allowed to enjoy it.
I sit down on the couch with a quiet groan of satisfaction, finally getting to put my cane aside. “So, girls… how are you feeling about Earth so far?”
They grumble immediately. “It is so freaking cold!” “Snow! We do not like the snow!”
“It’s only for another couple of… Months.” They’re undressing right in front of me. I am left briefly stunned.
Oh right they don’t normally wear clothes.
Reminding myself of that doesn’t help. The context is what it is. They’re my best friends and my two favorite girls and they’re stripping naked before me.
My brain fails me. “…Okay, so, uhh. Um. Hmmh. Huh.”
Mother of God there’s nothing different! They’re naked. They’re always naked! It hasn’t been a problem on VP, it won’t be a problem here! Man up!
I take a deep and steadying breath and resolutely refuse to think of patches of white and red on a set of pink coveralls, with pink patches on their matching ones.
“I guess we should… buy some food? And some clothes for me to use? And…”
And they turn their heads toward me, staring at me with one eye each. Side by side. Making me feel like I'm being stared down by a single creature. One with forward-facing eyes. And an orange blush.
They take slow steps closer. Thiva speaks first with an amused lilt to her voice. “Or maybe this is a good time to talk. You know, about the house rules.”
Vilek speaks as well, moving her tail sinuously in a teasing motion. “Relationship statuses.”
Thiva comes in with the finisher, practically purring. “Sleeping arrangements.”
Ah.
---
And that's the end! Thank you all so much for reading, and check the comments for a small request from yours truly!
[First] [Previous]
submitted by tulpacat1 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
---
Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: January 10th, 2137
Without the girls, life settles into a boring rut. I talk to them as much as I can on the pad, but they’re busy on Earth, hitting the ground running.
There’s been a lot of ground to cover before they’re caught up to where everyone else will be, particularly for Vilek. She’s often had to pull double-claws of studying, working her fluffy ass off to gain a baseline understanding of psychology in record time. Thiva’s classes on VP by contrast have prepared her well for humanity’s relatively simple technology.
That, and they’ve had to get used to Earth. Earth food, Earth culture, and a planet full of omnivores with forward-facing eyes. I’ve been doing what little I can to help coach and encourage them.
For my own part I’ve been restless. Given that I’m not able to look for a job yet, that physical therapy kicks my ass every other paw, and that I’ve got nothing to do other than look forward to a half-hour of chatting with my friends… I’ve started up on software again. It’s something I can do even while laying prone. Particularly since I have a way to write without using my hands.
What do I do with that, anyway? I can read minds. I can even use the raw data from a full brain scan to extract memories. There’s got to be something useful to do with this. It’s practically the only part of this entire debacle I haven’t bothered telling the UN about.
Honestly after what I’ve been through, I can’t imagine trusting them, or the Venlil government, with this. Bastards would be prosecuting thought-crime by the end of the week.
Jarkim’s opened his business a couple of weeks back. Without an actual office, since he plans to simply operate out of Slavik’s farm. As I understand they tolerate it as long as he also helps out in return for food and board. I hope the arrangement works out for the both of them.
I gave Jarkim some help with his online presence. He wasn’t initially sure about the black and white picture of him in a fedora and a tie, or about the business name “Jarkim Krakotl, Private Eye”. But as soon as humans heard about Venlil Prime’s only Krakotl detective they’ve ended up coming to him with their problems.
He sent me a picture of his first solved case, some runaway kid who got lost and reunited with her mother. He was still wearing the hat. No tie, though.
Today is my paw off from Chasa’s torments, and it coincides with the launch of another exciting new business venture. So I take the time to visit Mosun.
“Hey Martin! Hold on a minute!” I see the Yotul wrangling a bunch of foam mats around the large, empty room. And its wall-length mirror. Fittingly the place look like the midway point between a dance studio and a martial arts dojo, except for the soft and spongy floor. It’s meant to safeguard against falls.
I glance around the room while he huffs and plops the last few ones down. There’s perhaps thirty-five or forty foam mats scattered on the floor. “So are you being optimistic, or did you get a good reception?”
He looks at me, bouncing with excitement. Though his ears signal a bit of nervousness. “Five Yotul have signed up so far! That’s almost half the Yotul in the entire town! And almost twenty humans! Hanya’s bringing a couple of Gojid friends too, and we’ve got a few Venlil coming along with their humans… Oh, and an Iftali, that was a surprise. Honestly I may be a little in over my head here; I’ve never taught crowds before! I’m not even sure how much will translate across species!”
“So you’ll be learning on the job. I have complete faith in you. Are the Exterminators going to give you any trouble?”
He barks a laugh. “Hah! No, Jarkim had a talk with the magister. I got permission from Vaska’s office to teach the classes in the name of cultural preservation, so those motherfuckers can’t touch me!”
I laugh as well. “You might need to censor your language a bit as a teacher.”
“Combat Dancing is about honesty and expression, Martin. If I can’t live it, how am I supposed to teach it?”
Well, he got me there. “Anything I can do to help?”
He glances at me, his voice gets a little uncomfortable. “Um, I don’t know. Can you carry heavy stuff right now?”
I shrug. “Probably not, no.”
“Then I’ll be fine. You’re not interested in taking the class?”
“I think my dancing days are over, for the foreseeable future.” I wryly lift my cane and wave it as a small reminder. It’s wood, and I’m quite fond of it. Chasa found a Venlil craftsman who wanted to be the first to make one for a human, and he made it out of the wood of some kind of tree called Lampan. The color reminds me of mahogany.
His ears droop a bit. “Ah yeah. How permanent is that looking?”
I shrug. “Finger dexterity on the right hand’s likely never going to be the same, but I’ll be able to play video games. Left arm should recover enough for daily use. Leg should get a full range of motion, but I won’t be going jogging. Thankfully I look dignified with a cane.”
He wags his tail teasingly and cocks his head as he regards me. “Do you? …Must be a human thing.”
“Piss off. Mind if I sit in on the class?”
“Of course not!”
Turns out first class of Yotul Combat Dancing is a quick demonstration, and then Mosun talking to the quite large and varied crowd. He talks about the history and cultural significance of Combat Dances to the Yotul, the philosophical underpinnings of the artform, and the mentality to be cultivated in practitioners.
Everyone is listening with rapt attention, and a few of the humans are even taking notes. When he opens the floor for questions, a Venlil asks “Isn’t this an expression of Predator Disease?”
To which Mosun answers “No. Next question?”
Which is honestly as much of a response as that warrants.
I talk with Hanya briefly after the class. She says that she’s been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that human therapy is helping her out. She even talks excitedly about piloting shuttles again, someday soon. I’m glad for her.
Once I get back to the house, there’s a man in a suit waiting for me. He’s tall, bald, and has very dark skin. I don’t recognize him. He extends his hand toward me, and I shake it. He speaks English with an African accent, instead of letting the translator handle it. I’d guess western Africa, but I’m hardly an expert. “Bamidele Adeyemi.”
“Martin Russo. Can I help you?”
He indicates the door. “May I come in?”
“Sure. My Venlil hosts aren’t home right now.”
“Of course.”
Once he’s been let in, and I’ve given him something to drink, I wait patiently for him to explain his presence.
“I am the UN liason to the district magister’s office.”
I keep my tone neutral and politely curious. “What happened to Robert McGinley?”
He keeps his tone neutral too, but friendly. He smiles at me. “It was decided that he should be replaced.”
Oh no. Anyway. “Alright. But… No offense mister Adeyemi, but why are you here?”
He takes out a pad. “I have some documents that the UN and the District Magister would like you to sign.”
I sigh inwardly and make a quite heroic effort to not sigh outwardly. I look at the pad briefly anyway. As I expected, it’s about making myself legally liable should I speak up about what I’ve gone through. “I’m afraid you are wasting your time. McGinley told me to sign papers like this too, and I told him ‘no’.”
He nods, entirely unsurprised. “I understand you signed similar documents over a smaller… altercation with the Exterminators. Why the difference of response, if I may ask?”
“Because the first time he threatened to have me thrown out of the refugee center if I didn’t.”
Bamidele’s eyes widen briefly. “I see. That does explain why you told him to ‘fuck off’.”
“Yes.” I pause briefly. “…You’ve been polite enough that I don’t want to use the same language. But.”
He laughs briefly. “Haha, yes, I understand. Different circumstances, yes? My predecessor tried the stick. I am here to try the carrot. So tell me, mister Russo, what will it take for you to sign?”
“There’s nothing that…” I pause.
I sit down. I’m briefly quiet. I miss my friends so goddamn much. I swallow, mouth feeling dry as I tentatively reach for the proffered lifeline. “I… hear Sweden’s lovely this time of year.”
He flashes his teeth at me in a broad smile and chuckles pleasantly. “Hehe, I thought you might say that. But… You do realize it is January?”
Date [standardized human time]: January 12th, 2137
The thought of leaving this wretched planet and its wretched food and its wretched government and its wretched ever-present sun makes me feel like I’m already back in Earth’s lighter gravity.
I ended up paying Chasa back for all the pain and suffering she inflicted on me: The largest gift basket I could find online, filled with fruits, candies, and preserves of both Zurulian and human origin.
When I wake up at the start of the paw, my arch-nemesis has sent me two pictures. The first one is a schedule to keep for the next couple of months. In the second picture she’s put pillows and blankets in the basket and is using it as a bed, a paw raised in goodbye.
If the medi-teddies ever learn to weaponize their cuteness, humanity is in real trouble.
Packing is easy. I don’t have a lot. A band shirt from when I went to see ‘Where Angels Fear’, a few bad sketches of fruit, my dad's chess set, my pad, and a neural scanner.
Date [standardized human time]: January 13th, 2137
The space flight actually lands directly in Sweden, somewhere north of the polar circle at a place called Esrange. I immediately realize that winter’s back on the menu, as the cold makes my left leg and arm ache like hell. It’s the dead of night, too… But I’ve missed night. So has everyone else, as despite the cold people are walking straight out into the snow to just stare up into the starry sky and stare in open awe at the sky, where the stars form a backdrop for the northern lights. I join them.
A poetic whimsy falls over me, making me grin at the cheesiness. It’s like the sky itself is welcoming us back home.
From Esrange we take cars to Kiruna, Sweden’s northernmost city. From there it’s a long train ride south. I’ve gotten a sleeper cabin. With the generous stipend from the UN, I have no need to scrimp.
Even so, it takes significantly longer to travel 1400 kilometers across Sweden than it did to travel 16 light-years from Gliese 832. I’ve got almost twenty hours to appreciate the irony.
Date [standardized human time]: January 14th, 2137
I’m met at the train station in Lund by a man holding a sign with my name on it. His car takes me directly to the university. Everything feels very… ordinary, except I’m a bit dazed at having so many humans around me again.
We arrive a little before 8 in the morning. Excited students scurry to and fro, eager and hopeful for the first day of spring term. The driver is named Markus, and very kindly helps me find my way to my meeting. I’m left outside a door, standing around awkwardly.
The man I’m meeting with is Jonas Falck, and he’s the head of the department of computer science. While the UN has ‘encouraged’ the university to take me in despite it being so close to the term start, the decision remains with him.
I really wanted to see the girls first, but the meeting time was set for me. I desperately wish I had thought to shave beforehand. I’ve been using my beard to hide my weak chin, but it probably looks more unprofessional than-
“Hey, are you Martin Russo?”
Ah, I see.
Mister Falck is holding two cups of coffee and offers one of them to me with a smile. He’s got a full beard, a full belly, hair past his shoulders, and a pink hawaiian shirt to go with his khaki shorts and flip-flops. This man is clearly one of the most talented professionals working in the field today.
“So, do you mind if I ask…” He motions to my cane while I take a seat.
“How that happened?”
“Yes.”
“That’s classified. I’m not even joking.”
He nods once, like that was more or less what he expected to hear. He leans back in his chair, which creaks a bit, and takes a slow drink from his coffee while reading on his computer. “So you studied at Columbia University before the Bombing?”
“Yes.”
“And your family lived in New York?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but he does say it as rote. ‘Oh you’re from one of the places that doesn’t exist anymore? Sorry to hear that.’
I nod awkwardly. “Yes.”
“And you were focusing on studying brain-computer interfacing?”
I feel like a recording. “Yes.”
“It’s very uncommon to add a student this late. The term begins today.”
“Yes.”
“We can’t provide housing for you on such a short notice, for one.”
“I have that handled, sir.”
He scrunches his face up. “Jonas, please. Americans are so formal.”
“Alright, er, Jonas.”
“So, Martin, what I’m asking for is a reason. To take you in right now, I mean, instead of next year.”
I nod. This is thankfully something I had planned for. My hand slips into my pocket, fingering the box holding the scanner electrodes. “Well, Jonas… I think there’s something you should take a look at.”
Handling paperwork and basic orientation takes most of the morning. I manage to get morning-and-evening classes to share my time off with the lambchops. That only works because most people don’t want evening classes. Evenings are for partying if you’re a student, so late classes are mostly for adults with jobs.
I end up standing around nervously by the entrance to the university building, counting down the time. I watch people passing by as calmly as I can, still checking my pad every minute or so for any messages and jerking my head around like a bird at anything that’s even a bit of a shade of gray.
I can tell the alien girls are coming even before I see them, since everyone is glancing curiously their way. I straighten my back and shift my weight from foot to foot. I feel like a dog at an airport, waiting for the return of its owner.
They’re looking around as I see them, and Thiva’s the first to spot me. Her ears perk up and Vilek immediately looks to me as well. As they speed up into a sprint, I’m a bit surprised to see them both wearing clothes. Both girls are wearing custom boots made to fit their digitigrade legs.
They’re both wearing coveralls, Vilek’s in a hospital teal and Thiva’s in a bright red. It’s been explained to me that many at the university have a student culture of wearing colorful coveralls that they decorate with patches, called ‘Ovve’, and that Thiva’s red marks her as a mechanical engineering student. Vileks’s teal, presumably, mark her as studying healthcare. Or specifically therapy, perhaps. I need to look it up.
Seeing as computer science students are apparently expected to wear pink ones, I’m thinking I might sit out this grand and colorful tradition. On the other hand according to the Internet it’s an informal rule to cut a bit from the ‘Ovve’ of anyone you’ve exchanged body fluids with and patch it onto your own. So I suppose I could be convinced.
The girls collide with me, thankfully gently. Their tails are wagging like crazy out of the back of their outfits, and they’re clinging to me. I inhale deeply, take in the distinct and pleasant scent of my cute Venlil friends, and cling to them as well. My fingers stroke through their thick fur, and I hear their happy wordless bleating and whistling.
I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, not giving one whit for the passersby watching the scene.
“Oh, girls, I-” Vilek punches me in the arm unexpectedly. The right one, thankfully.
“Ow!”
Even though her ears signal joy and her tail is wagging, her voice is still stern. “We learned what ‘lambchops’ means!”
Ah.
The student flat isn’t very expansive, but it’s larger than the one we shared on Venlil Prime. Probably because humans are just plain larger.
It’s currently sparsely furnished. There’s a couple of desks, a couch, a table, a beanbag chair, and a bunk bed. I take my shoes off in the hallway, as the girls do. When in Lund.
They help me unpack. There’s not a lot, but they had already set aside a little corner for me. I’ve got the beanbag chair instead of a desk, which I’m perfectly fine with.
I sigh and lean against a wall briefly. “I’m… so glad to be home.”
Thiva turns her head a little, flicking an ear in question. “You missed being on Earth?”
I chuckle, and pinch her ear-tip lightly. I lean over to give Vilek one too, for fairness. It earns me a pair of bleeps from them, and I go on the offensive to rub their heads and scratch their ears and do everything I can to make the lambchops squeal happily. They thankfully oblige. “I missed being with my herd.”
My friends are safe, they’re here with me, and we all have paths forward. I’ve fought and bled for this opportunity. I’m allowed to enjoy it.
I sit down on the couch with a quiet groan of satisfaction, finally getting to put my cane aside. “So, girls… how are you feeling about Earth so far?”
They grumble immediately. “It is so freaking cold!” “Snow! We do not like the snow!”
“It’s only for another couple of… Months.” They’re undressing right in front of me. I am left briefly stunned.
Oh right they don’t normally wear clothes.
Reminding myself of that doesn’t help. The context is what it is. They’re my best friends and my two favorite girls and they’re stripping naked before me.
My brain fails me. “…Okay, so, uhh. Um. Hmmh. Huh.”
Mother of God there’s nothing different! They’re naked. They’re always naked! It hasn’t been a problem on VP, it won’t be a problem here! Man up!
I take a deep and steadying breath and resolutely refuse to think of patches of white and red on a set of pink coveralls, with pink patches on their matching ones.
“I guess we should… buy some food? And some clothes for me to use? And…”
And they turn their heads toward me, staring at me with one eye each. Side by side. Making me feel like I'm being stared down by a single creature. One with forward-facing eyes. And an orange blush.
They take slow steps closer. Thiva speaks first with an amused lilt to her voice. “Or maybe this is a good time to talk. You know, about the house rules.”
Vilek speaks as well, moving her tail sinuously in a teasing motion. “Relationship statuses.”
Thiva comes in with the finisher, practically purring. “Sleeping arrangements.”
Ah.
---
And that's the end! Thank you all so much for reading, and check the comments for a small request from yours truly!
[First] [Previous]
2023.06.10 19:26 ZeonoxButBetter Attack of the Dead Terrans
Sorry for the absence of story for the last two weeks. No I'm not dead, it's just my exams weeks.And because of that, I have to redirect a lot of energy from writing. So all the stories I've developed over the past two weeks have sort of run aground, and I'm not sure they're ready to be uploaded here, yet.But now I'm back and ready to write some more, so roll up that daily disclaimer:As usual accidental copy is truly unintentional ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~7th Chromia Orbital Dock Facility~
~Orbit of Oskwa~
"Have they arrived yet?" I asked to my fellow commander.
"Yes General Burg, the convoy has just unloaded the... cargo just now" General Von said, looking down through the glass barrier to the cargo bay below where hundreds of yellow capsule-like containers sat in rows.
"Good, so I assume that the assault could be launch in a few hours?" I asked.
"After we distributed this to the orbital bomber we should be clear to go"
"Excellent! We'll finally be able to destroy that annoying little castle of them" I exclaimed. Excited, because finally after months of fighting, we'll be able to seize the last stronghold of the Terran Republic on this planet. Fort Linsky, a large military fortification built by the Terran Republic before the war on the planet of Oskwa, one of their territory at the time.Equipped with eight pairs of massive railgun cannons, each with the capability to penetrate anything ranging from our capital ships in low orbit to anything on the ground not covered by at least twenty meters of solid rock within the range of one thousand kilometers from its' location.
There were more of them before. But since our invasion, with either brilliant tactic, incompetent opponents, or a pinch of luck. We managed to destroy or seized all the other fort on this planet.
But Fort Linsky on the other hand is harder. Its fortification is enforced not only by its massive cannons, but also by what our soldiers on the ground called 'The Torture Zone'.
First the most obvious one, the giant wall covering the entire parameter. A huge twenty five kilometers long stone-composite wall, shaped like a giant star with spikes sticking out of each end, circling the ring where the railguns take places. Rendering all kind of ground incursion imposible.
Behind the wall there is the 'artillery', somewhat a miniature version of the railguns they're trying to protect. A long range kinetic weapon capable of yeeting medium sized projectile, both High Explosive and Armoured Piercing. Preventing any of our heavier vehicles to get close and deal any damages.
And then there is the 'always on particle shield'. While their counterpart in space is extremely weak, their usage here was proved effective against all sort of our attacks. Be it orbital bombardment, areal assault, or our own artillery or missile attack. And of course lastly, we have the Human themself. A tough mammals bipedal species born on a level six death world. Raised by wars they have perfected the art of defense, utilizing the terrain and weather for their advantage. In battle they themselves go forth to fight, in armor suit five meters tall equipped with a large gun and a pile of rockets that can be fired to scorch our troops. And accompanied by innovative flying vehicles that uses a single propeller to lift themself from the ground, armed with the same weapon hold by the armour suit they become the thorns that've always prevented us from occupying this fort. -------------------------------------------------------------- I stepped down from my transport ship to the barren ground, on a mountain ten kilometers away from the fort. Just outside their artillery range, and on a such makeshift observation point it would be worthless to shoot us out with their railguns. "Is everything ready?" I asked to one of my officer. "Yes Sir, General Borg just sent out the last confirmation signal" He reported. "Good" I responded just before a flock of officers approach. "Sir, are we sure with this?" "Yeah gas attack seems a little too much, perhaps even breaching the Communities Treaty of war" "And are we even sure this will work?" They asked one after another. "Hey, do you remember what've they done all through the war? The sight of their armour suit killing all of our soldier? their rail gun destroying our base? I bet they have committed several warcrimes on their own. And yeah, We're pretty sure this one will work. Our capsules is small enough to slip through the particle shield, and their content... Well gas attack have been banned by the Terran Republic, so I'm sure it's bad for them. And what gasses are we using again? chlorine and bromine? yeah I think they're included in the banned substance" I said reassuring the officers. Not long after, the time finally came. Receiving the signal from the Borg, we sat and watched as hundred of small yellow capsules pierces the cloudy sky with green tails coming out of 'em. Passing through the Terrans shield, straight down to the rows of troops doing their morning call. Landing next to the unsuspecting soldiers the capsules burst and released their contents. Thick green smokes billowed from the shattered containers, soon filling up the whole facility with an eerie chemical haze. We watched silently from afar. We couldn't see individual soldiers anymore, but from the lack of large response or any other movements around the base, I think it's safe to assume we've caught the Terrans off guard. "Yeah, that should kill them" I said breaking the silence. "We better start moving now, before any surviving Terrans re-enact the automatic defense" We jumped into our armoured vehicles, surrounded by around twelve thousand troops ready to captured the fort. Approaching the structure, we could feel the atmosphere getting cold. The still lingering green gasses floating low on the ground, getting darker each moments as the thick cloud from the ever-closing storm covered the sky. "Well at least the rain could clean up this mess" I said to myself. Closing in, now only a few hundred meters, we could fully feel the eerie state of this fortress. A huge ominous dark wall covered in green haze stretched out for miles, accompanied by a huge thunder on our east suddenly halted the movement of our forces. The frightened troops stopped on its march, shaking on their boots. 'What are they afraid of, there shouldn't be anyone anymore in that fort' I muttered, trying to figured out what happened. And that's where I see it, no... see them. Dozen of bulky silhouette, accompanied by a couple hundreds smaller hump lined up between us and the wall. I squint my eyes, the figures standing menacingly became clearer as the green smokes cleared. 'It-it's the Terrans! T-they're still alive!?!' I screamed internally, clenching the iron bars I was holding onto. The Terrans, on their armoursuits once again challenging our march, but there's something wrong. Their beige colored skin has grown darker, now with black ulcers and red patches covered many of their exposed area, their once white eyes were now bloodshot like those of an ancient creature on our folklore, and where their mouths should have been, were now covered by all kind cloths with their bright red bloodstains splatred on it. My frustration and annoyance suddenly turned to fear and horror as my blood ran cold from the realization. They... they're not alive anymore. Me and my troops stand there for a minute, trying to process the sights we behold. The silence continued as fear crawls on our back, forcing us not to move a muscle. Suddenly out of nowhere a blood screeching screams rang across the battlefield. The Terrans letting out a battlecry as they began to charges. An entire legion of the undead leaping into our position with the classic noise of rockets and artillery soon followed. "Retreat! Retreat!" I shouted, breaking the stagnant of my remaining troops. Without wasting a second, the remaining nine thousand troops ran away from the cursed fortress. Racing back to the safety of our base. Skipping some heartbeats I looked back, to the horror we just made. 'We didn't kill them, we just make them mad'
submitted by ZeonoxButBetter to HFY [link] [comments]
~Orbit of Oskwa~
"Have they arrived yet?" I asked to my fellow commander.
"Yes General Burg, the convoy has just unloaded the... cargo just now" General Von said, looking down through the glass barrier to the cargo bay below where hundreds of yellow capsule-like containers sat in rows.
"Good, so I assume that the assault could be launch in a few hours?" I asked.
"After we distributed this to the orbital bomber we should be clear to go"
"Excellent! We'll finally be able to destroy that annoying little castle of them" I exclaimed. Excited, because finally after months of fighting, we'll be able to seize the last stronghold of the Terran Republic on this planet. Fort Linsky, a large military fortification built by the Terran Republic before the war on the planet of Oskwa, one of their territory at the time.Equipped with eight pairs of massive railgun cannons, each with the capability to penetrate anything ranging from our capital ships in low orbit to anything on the ground not covered by at least twenty meters of solid rock within the range of one thousand kilometers from its' location.
There were more of them before. But since our invasion, with either brilliant tactic, incompetent opponents, or a pinch of luck. We managed to destroy or seized all the other fort on this planet.
But Fort Linsky on the other hand is harder. Its fortification is enforced not only by its massive cannons, but also by what our soldiers on the ground called 'The Torture Zone'.
First the most obvious one, the giant wall covering the entire parameter. A huge twenty five kilometers long stone-composite wall, shaped like a giant star with spikes sticking out of each end, circling the ring where the railguns take places. Rendering all kind of ground incursion imposible.
Behind the wall there is the 'artillery', somewhat a miniature version of the railguns they're trying to protect. A long range kinetic weapon capable of yeeting medium sized projectile, both High Explosive and Armoured Piercing. Preventing any of our heavier vehicles to get close and deal any damages.
And then there is the 'always on particle shield'. While their counterpart in space is extremely weak, their usage here was proved effective against all sort of our attacks. Be it orbital bombardment, areal assault, or our own artillery or missile attack. And of course lastly, we have the Human themself. A tough mammals bipedal species born on a level six death world. Raised by wars they have perfected the art of defense, utilizing the terrain and weather for their advantage. In battle they themselves go forth to fight, in armor suit five meters tall equipped with a large gun and a pile of rockets that can be fired to scorch our troops. And accompanied by innovative flying vehicles that uses a single propeller to lift themself from the ground, armed with the same weapon hold by the armour suit they become the thorns that've always prevented us from occupying this fort. -------------------------------------------------------------- I stepped down from my transport ship to the barren ground, on a mountain ten kilometers away from the fort. Just outside their artillery range, and on a such makeshift observation point it would be worthless to shoot us out with their railguns. "Is everything ready?" I asked to one of my officer. "Yes Sir, General Borg just sent out the last confirmation signal" He reported. "Good" I responded just before a flock of officers approach. "Sir, are we sure with this?" "Yeah gas attack seems a little too much, perhaps even breaching the Communities Treaty of war" "And are we even sure this will work?" They asked one after another. "Hey, do you remember what've they done all through the war? The sight of their armour suit killing all of our soldier? their rail gun destroying our base? I bet they have committed several warcrimes on their own. And yeah, We're pretty sure this one will work. Our capsules is small enough to slip through the particle shield, and their content... Well gas attack have been banned by the Terran Republic, so I'm sure it's bad for them. And what gasses are we using again? chlorine and bromine? yeah I think they're included in the banned substance" I said reassuring the officers. Not long after, the time finally came. Receiving the signal from the Borg, we sat and watched as hundred of small yellow capsules pierces the cloudy sky with green tails coming out of 'em. Passing through the Terrans shield, straight down to the rows of troops doing their morning call. Landing next to the unsuspecting soldiers the capsules burst and released their contents. Thick green smokes billowed from the shattered containers, soon filling up the whole facility with an eerie chemical haze. We watched silently from afar. We couldn't see individual soldiers anymore, but from the lack of large response or any other movements around the base, I think it's safe to assume we've caught the Terrans off guard. "Yeah, that should kill them" I said breaking the silence. "We better start moving now, before any surviving Terrans re-enact the automatic defense" We jumped into our armoured vehicles, surrounded by around twelve thousand troops ready to captured the fort. Approaching the structure, we could feel the atmosphere getting cold. The still lingering green gasses floating low on the ground, getting darker each moments as the thick cloud from the ever-closing storm covered the sky. "Well at least the rain could clean up this mess" I said to myself. Closing in, now only a few hundred meters, we could fully feel the eerie state of this fortress. A huge ominous dark wall covered in green haze stretched out for miles, accompanied by a huge thunder on our east suddenly halted the movement of our forces. The frightened troops stopped on its march, shaking on their boots. 'What are they afraid of, there shouldn't be anyone anymore in that fort' I muttered, trying to figured out what happened. And that's where I see it, no... see them. Dozen of bulky silhouette, accompanied by a couple hundreds smaller hump lined up between us and the wall. I squint my eyes, the figures standing menacingly became clearer as the green smokes cleared. 'It-it's the Terrans! T-they're still alive!?!' I screamed internally, clenching the iron bars I was holding onto. The Terrans, on their armoursuits once again challenging our march, but there's something wrong. Their beige colored skin has grown darker, now with black ulcers and red patches covered many of their exposed area, their once white eyes were now bloodshot like those of an ancient creature on our folklore, and where their mouths should have been, were now covered by all kind cloths with their bright red bloodstains splatred on it. My frustration and annoyance suddenly turned to fear and horror as my blood ran cold from the realization. They... they're not alive anymore. Me and my troops stand there for a minute, trying to process the sights we behold. The silence continued as fear crawls on our back, forcing us not to move a muscle. Suddenly out of nowhere a blood screeching screams rang across the battlefield. The Terrans letting out a battlecry as they began to charges. An entire legion of the undead leaping into our position with the classic noise of rockets and artillery soon followed. "Retreat! Retreat!" I shouted, breaking the stagnant of my remaining troops. Without wasting a second, the remaining nine thousand troops ran away from the cursed fortress. Racing back to the safety of our base. Skipping some heartbeats I looked back, to the horror we just made. 'We didn't kill them, we just make them mad'
2023.06.10 19:09 persnicketous Stroller options for a 1 bed apartment with very limited storage!
SO MANY STROLLER OPTIONS! But we have pretty specific needs!
We're going to be in our 1 bedroom apartment until baby is probably 2 years old. While we're lucky that the bedroom is plenty big for a nursery nook, our storage options are a lot more limited. I need a stroller that will fold down small, but is also going to stand up to all the walks we take to the grocery store as well as at the nearby park and breakwater where the sidewalks are often rough and cracked.
The best option I've seen online seems to be the Uppababy Minu V2, but they're certainly not cheap and there are none available secondhand in my area. When I look at reviews for compact strollers, they seem to be all about being meant for travel and fitting on planes - I don't need to carry this slung over my shoulder, I just need it to fit in the cupboard!
Any suggestions?
submitted by persnicketous to BabyBumps [link] [comments]
We're going to be in our 1 bedroom apartment until baby is probably 2 years old. While we're lucky that the bedroom is plenty big for a nursery nook, our storage options are a lot more limited. I need a stroller that will fold down small, but is also going to stand up to all the walks we take to the grocery store as well as at the nearby park and breakwater where the sidewalks are often rough and cracked.
The best option I've seen online seems to be the Uppababy Minu V2, but they're certainly not cheap and there are none available secondhand in my area. When I look at reviews for compact strollers, they seem to be all about being meant for travel and fitting on planes - I don't need to carry this slung over my shoulder, I just need it to fit in the cupboard!
Any suggestions?
2023.06.10 19:06 StillLookingUp Panicked and don't know what to do!
I am a 61yo male. I have had trouble sleeping my entire life but it has seemed cyclic. I was diagnosed with MVP in the mid 1980's and took a beta blocker until 2000 when I got off of it to have some allergy testing done. I did so well off of it that my Dr. told me to just leave it off. Have suffered with severe anxiety and depression all my life which got worse in2007 when my partner took his life and my guilt got really bad. I had a sleep study done in 2010 that was normal. In 2018 I had another one done and it was horrible. Was prescribed CPAP and could not tolerate it. I lost about 30 pounds and cleaned up my diet a bit and started sleeping with my head elevated. Thought the problem was a lot better but started having panic attacks last Fall. Generally started feeling like crap. Doctors said it was anxiety. Tried a few medications and no relief. A few months ago I started having more palpitations than normal. Started having more dizzy spells and leg pain, arm pain, tingling...everything that can be either heart or anxiety. Doctor ordered two week Holter monitor, CT Scan, Echo and Carotid Doppler. Got fitted with the Holter on Monday and Tuesday morning got a call that the cardiologist wanted to see me. I had a really long heart pause during the night. Went to the appt and he asked if I had ever been diagnosed with sleep apnea. I told him the story and he said that is what he suspects. He is sending me for tests. Haven't had the other tests done yet. I have slept very little since being fitted with the monitor. Last night was particularly bad. Every time I would doze I would jerk awake. Crazy thoughts that would not settle down and just feeling horrible. Went from bed to chair back to bed. Could not get comfortable at all. I used to be able to lay on my right side and sleep a bit but the palpitations are too bad for that now. I am just beside myself. I started to go to the hospital last night but from what I've read they won't do anything about a problem like this unless you are in pain and experiencing breathing problems when you present. Also I live in a very small town. I have Ativan but am terrified to take it. Every time I think I may be able to doze off the choking feeling comes back and the cycle starts again. Part of me thinks if it was really bad the heart monitor people would have alerted me by now. I don't want to die but just don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm not going to do anything bad but just wanted to know if anyone else has dealt with something like this and do you have any pointers for even a tiny bit of relief. I even got the old CPAP machine out but can't get it to work as it has been in non-temperature controlled storage since 2018. I'm really sorry for sounding like a big baby but I just have no hope right now. I honestly feel like this will be the end of me before I can get any help. Thank you from the bottom of my palpitating heart. Take care.
submitted by StillLookingUp to SleepApnea [link] [comments]
2023.06.10 19:04 IronAndWhisky Wondering if Kratom is too good to be true, for opiate WDs?
So a little background, I was a heroin addict for 7 years at 3 bundles a day. I got clean and have been for 5 years now. I just relapsed and used about .02 to .03 every day, sometimes twice a day, for 16 days straight. After day 9 I stopped and noticed I was getting dopesick. Couldn't believe it. I didn't think 9 days was long enough to get the physical habit, but I guess it is. So I used a few more days to get me through the work week and at day 16 (yesterday) I took my last dose in the morning.
I started feeling sick after about 12 hours and decided to take a Kratom extract pill. I've never taken kratom before and was very skeptical after all my research. Some people say it works some say it doesn't do shit. But i swear I started feeling less shitty about an hour after taking it. I thought it might be placebo, but there was no denying it. I took a xan and went to bed. In the morning I took 2 kratom pills this time. That was 4 hours ago and I honestly feel very little withdrawal feelings. Is this really possible?
The people that have reported positive results with kratom say it only reduces withdrawals about 25%, but right now it is almost non existent. I am in such belief I was wondering could the Kratom extract have some secret opoiod? Like those ED pills you buy at gas stations secretly having Viagra? I even tested my xan (pressed) for fent, came back negative. Thoughts? Would really appreciate it.
submitted by IronAndWhisky to opiates [link] [comments]
I started feeling sick after about 12 hours and decided to take a Kratom extract pill. I've never taken kratom before and was very skeptical after all my research. Some people say it works some say it doesn't do shit. But i swear I started feeling less shitty about an hour after taking it. I thought it might be placebo, but there was no denying it. I took a xan and went to bed. In the morning I took 2 kratom pills this time. That was 4 hours ago and I honestly feel very little withdrawal feelings. Is this really possible?
The people that have reported positive results with kratom say it only reduces withdrawals about 25%, but right now it is almost non existent. I am in such belief I was wondering could the Kratom extract have some secret opoiod? Like those ED pills you buy at gas stations secretly having Viagra? I even tested my xan (pressed) for fent, came back negative. Thoughts? Would really appreciate it.
2023.06.10 19:01 Donayre21 [SALE] NEW BINDing figured and Azur Lane Rio and Queen Bee Honey
![[SALE] NEW BINDing figured and Azur Lane Rio and Queen Bee Honey](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/y9tdcKqjx-D5MlVnXA7UcCemUlbwWUQqijkunjgsdVA.jpg "[SALE] NEW BINDing figured and Azur Lane Rio and Queen Bee Honey") | Selling them since I am no longer collecting figures and have been in storage since release. You will see more posts specially with 1/4 figures brand new. submitted by Donayre21 to AnimeFigures [link] [comments] Unless stated, shipping is not included. I can provide you an estimate based on your zip code. This items are in storage so please be considerate if you want the estimated shipping since I have to weigh and measure the box and get the price though Pirateship. NO trades, paypal invoice only. Items are new unless stated otherwise.
https://www.reddit.com/AnimeFigures/comments/zjiay8/sale_new_figures/ https://preview.redd.it/cojmjhcp185b1.jpg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=690e5ed67838e752d3164e03d90245aadde7c3a2 https://preview.redd.it/scg3u48r185b1.jpg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d97215e0b5d93d375b3973c9cbb5c935242384bf https://preview.redd.it/vqohm0xs185b1.jpg?width=4000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b7188058dcd9b9b046903bb3f273ac0e60da64bb |
2023.06.10 18:22 lettell101 It might be time for LTC.
I (28m) have been the primary caregiver and care manager for my grandma (92f) for the past five years. It's been a long journey. She has dementia, and the progression of the disease has been very slow.
I'm all by myself now. My mom passed away in early 2021. My girlfriend and I broke up last year. My dad isn't capable of caregiving in a helpful way, but at least he's nearby if I need a hand.
My grandma and I have been sick together for the 4th time since November 2022. This time, it's some sinus infection. Grandma got lightheaded and passed out in the bathroom. I noticed her symptoms beforehand and was able to enter the bathroom and catch her before hitting her head. I steadied her and called her name to try and get her attention and wake her up.
In the past, I would have called 911 very quickly. After the fourth ER visit, multiple doctor appointments, and a discussion with a neurologist, I was advised to lay her flat on the ground and lift her legs if she fainted again.
I laid her on the ground, and sure enough, the blood rushed back into her head, and she came to. She didn't look like she could breathe, and I was worried about her throwing up, so I picked her up and leaned her against a wall. She proceeded to vomit on herself and relieve her bowels in a large puddle on the floor. At least she was awake, though.
With the initial crises averted, I shifted into the 2nd phase of cleaning her up. I picked her up and put her on the seat of the shower. Thankfully, I had an accessible shower installed last year.
I was able to wash her, which was a first for me. She drank some fluids and started to feel better. She was finally well enough to stand and put on her night clothes with some assistance. She got into bed and slept well.
My dad came over to help with the cleanup and sanitation of the bathroom.
The following morning, she was awake, dressed, and reading the daily newspaper when I woke. She was unaware that she was ill.
So, life keeps moving, and we are both still sick. We will get better, and I could keep maintaining her health and managing her care, but at what cost to myself? If the trend continues, we will both become sick again and infect the other. She will get worse symptoms than I and may likely have another crisis. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
I tried so hard to keep her in her home and provide her with a quality of life that was up to my standards. Now, money's running out, and we have few good options. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, and at times it feels easiest to stay stuck because that's what is familiar and "safe."
If things work out how I expect, she will end up living in an assisted living facility for about a year. Then she'll have to transition to a nursing home that is Medicaid approved because her money will run out. The assisted living costs roughly $4000/mo.
I know this story is not unique. I've heard from others that go through the same scenario with different stories. Everyone processes the loss of a loved one to dementia differently.
I'm writing this right now to try and process this feeling of loss of control. Once she's not living with me, I won't be able or available to advocate and protect her as I do now. I won't be able to comfort or reassure her like I can now. It makes me very sad to think about it. I've never wanted her to feel scared and alone as she loses her memory.
If anyone else can relate to my story, I'd love to hear from you and do my best to reply. Fortunately, I have built a sound support system of friends, family, and professionals. However, I've been feeling pretty alone these past few days since I've been sick and looking after my grandma.
submitted by lettell101 to CaregiverSupport [link] [comments]
I'm all by myself now. My mom passed away in early 2021. My girlfriend and I broke up last year. My dad isn't capable of caregiving in a helpful way, but at least he's nearby if I need a hand.
My grandma and I have been sick together for the 4th time since November 2022. This time, it's some sinus infection. Grandma got lightheaded and passed out in the bathroom. I noticed her symptoms beforehand and was able to enter the bathroom and catch her before hitting her head. I steadied her and called her name to try and get her attention and wake her up.
In the past, I would have called 911 very quickly. After the fourth ER visit, multiple doctor appointments, and a discussion with a neurologist, I was advised to lay her flat on the ground and lift her legs if she fainted again.
I laid her on the ground, and sure enough, the blood rushed back into her head, and she came to. She didn't look like she could breathe, and I was worried about her throwing up, so I picked her up and leaned her against a wall. She proceeded to vomit on herself and relieve her bowels in a large puddle on the floor. At least she was awake, though.
With the initial crises averted, I shifted into the 2nd phase of cleaning her up. I picked her up and put her on the seat of the shower. Thankfully, I had an accessible shower installed last year.
I was able to wash her, which was a first for me. She drank some fluids and started to feel better. She was finally well enough to stand and put on her night clothes with some assistance. She got into bed and slept well.
My dad came over to help with the cleanup and sanitation of the bathroom.
The following morning, she was awake, dressed, and reading the daily newspaper when I woke. She was unaware that she was ill.
So, life keeps moving, and we are both still sick. We will get better, and I could keep maintaining her health and managing her care, but at what cost to myself? If the trend continues, we will both become sick again and infect the other. She will get worse symptoms than I and may likely have another crisis. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
I tried so hard to keep her in her home and provide her with a quality of life that was up to my standards. Now, money's running out, and we have few good options. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, and at times it feels easiest to stay stuck because that's what is familiar and "safe."
If things work out how I expect, she will end up living in an assisted living facility for about a year. Then she'll have to transition to a nursing home that is Medicaid approved because her money will run out. The assisted living costs roughly $4000/mo.
I know this story is not unique. I've heard from others that go through the same scenario with different stories. Everyone processes the loss of a loved one to dementia differently.
I'm writing this right now to try and process this feeling of loss of control. Once she's not living with me, I won't be able or available to advocate and protect her as I do now. I won't be able to comfort or reassure her like I can now. It makes me very sad to think about it. I've never wanted her to feel scared and alone as she loses her memory.
If anyone else can relate to my story, I'd love to hear from you and do my best to reply. Fortunately, I have built a sound support system of friends, family, and professionals. However, I've been feeling pretty alone these past few days since I've been sick and looking after my grandma.
2023.06.10 18:16 thisisfunme The real dance moms expert (chatgpt)
I decided to ask some questions to chatgpt for some ultimate clarity 😂
Since this was really long I shortened it down to the more funny content not the general AI Blabla.
The top 5 dances on the show:
"The Last Text" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): This emotional contemporary solo, choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, is often considered one of Maddie's standout performances. The routine depicts the story of a girl receiving a final text message from her dying mother, and Maddie's poignant interpretation of the choreography earned her praise and recognition.
"Where Have All the Children Gone?" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): This group routine featuring the dancers of the Abby Lee Dance Company was choreographed by Anthony Burrell. The dance, inspired by the theme of lost innocence, received critical acclaim for its powerful storytelling and cohesive execution.
"Stomp the Yard" (performed by Nia Sioux): Choreographed by Anthony Burrell, this energetic and lively group routine showcased the dancers' precision and synchronicity. Nia's charisma and strong stage presence were particularly highlighted in this dance.
"The Waiting Room" (performed by Kendall Vertes): Choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, this contemporary solo allowed Kendall to showcase her technical abilities and emotional range. The routine explores the theme of a girl waiting for her love to return from war and received praise for Kendall's growth as a dancer.
"Black Swan" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): Choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, this haunting and dramatic contemporary solo drew inspiration from the ballet "Swan Lake." Maddie's precise movements and portrayal of the Black Swan character captivated audiences and demonstrated her versatility as a dancer.
Best Solo on the show: "The Last Text" performed by Maddie Ziegler is often considered one of the best solos on "Dance Moms." The emotional choreography and Maddie's exceptional performance received critical acclaim and left a lasting impact on audiences.
Best Technique: Maddie Ziegler is frequently praised for her strong technique and precision. Many of her solos, including "The Last Text" and "Black Swan," showcased her technical prowess and attention to detail.
Best Turns: Sophia Lucia was known for her exceptional turning ability. She held the Guinness World Record for the most consecutive pirouettes (55) at the time. Her solos, such as "Red Queen" and "Famous," often featured impressive turns and spins.
Best Jumps: Kalani Hilliker was often recognized for her impressive jumps and athleticism. Her solo "It's Like Summer" showcased her powerful and controlled jumps, including leaps and grand jetés.
What were each of the dance mom original girls strength and weaknesses in dance? ? .
Each of the original Dance Moms girls showcased their own strengths and weaknesses in dance throughout the show. Here's a general overview of their strengths and areas where they may have faced challenges:
Maddie Ziegler: Strengths: Maddie was known for her exceptional technique, emotional expression, and stage presence. She consistently delivered strong performances in various dance styles, particularly contemporary and lyrical. Weaknesses: While Maddie was highly versatile, some viewers felt that she occasionally relied on similar movement patterns and expressions, leading to critiques of lacking diversity in her performances.
Chloe Lukasiak: Strengths: Chloe possessed excellent technical abilities, with strong ballet and lyrical skills. She was praised for her graceful lines, flexibility, and musicality. Weaknesses: Chloe occasionally struggled with confidence and sometimes allowed nerves to affect her performances. This resulted in occasional inconsistencies and difficulty fully embracing the character or emotion of a routine.
Nia Sioux: Strengths: Nia was known for her versatility and ability to tackle various dance styles. She had a powerful stage presence and excelled in energetic, fierce routines. Nia's strength in hip-hop and urban styles set her apart. Weaknesses: Nia sometimes faced challenges with technical precision, particularly in executing intricate footwork or maintaining sharpness in certain dance styles.
Brooke Hyland: Strengths: Brooke had a natural elegance and fluidity in her movements, particularly in contemporary and lyrical styles. She displayed strength and control in lifts and partner work. Weaknesses: Brooke occasionally struggled with self-confidence, and there were moments when she appeared reserved or disconnected from the emotion of a routine.
Paige Hyland: Strengths: Paige had a natural athleticism and flexibility, which allowed her to excel in acrobatic elements and tricks. She displayed enthusiasm and energy in her performances. Weaknesses: Paige occasionally faced challenges with technique and precision, particularly in executing intricate turns and jumps consistently.
Kendall Vertes: Strengths: Kendall had a strong technical foundation and flexibility. She showcased improvement in her performances over time, displaying growth in her execution and confidence. Weaknesses: Kendall sometimes struggled with fully embodying the emotion or character of a routine, which led to critiques of lacking depth or connection.
My takeaway:
Yes it forgot kenzie 😂 Kenzie is not an Original dance moms girl
The last text was maddies solo as was whalcg and stomp the yard was nias and waiting room kendalls.
The stories of the dances were very different from what we believed 😂
Sophias solo Famous and Kalanis feels like summer where surely amazing.
submitted by thisisfunme to dancemoms [link] [comments]
Since this was really long I shortened it down to the more funny content not the general AI Blabla.
The top 5 dances on the show:
"The Last Text" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): This emotional contemporary solo, choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, is often considered one of Maddie's standout performances. The routine depicts the story of a girl receiving a final text message from her dying mother, and Maddie's poignant interpretation of the choreography earned her praise and recognition.
"Where Have All the Children Gone?" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): This group routine featuring the dancers of the Abby Lee Dance Company was choreographed by Anthony Burrell. The dance, inspired by the theme of lost innocence, received critical acclaim for its powerful storytelling and cohesive execution.
"Stomp the Yard" (performed by Nia Sioux): Choreographed by Anthony Burrell, this energetic and lively group routine showcased the dancers' precision and synchronicity. Nia's charisma and strong stage presence were particularly highlighted in this dance.
"The Waiting Room" (performed by Kendall Vertes): Choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, this contemporary solo allowed Kendall to showcase her technical abilities and emotional range. The routine explores the theme of a girl waiting for her love to return from war and received praise for Kendall's growth as a dancer.
"Black Swan" (performed by Maddie Ziegler): Choreographed by Abby Lee Miller, this haunting and dramatic contemporary solo drew inspiration from the ballet "Swan Lake." Maddie's precise movements and portrayal of the Black Swan character captivated audiences and demonstrated her versatility as a dancer.
Best Solo on the show: "The Last Text" performed by Maddie Ziegler is often considered one of the best solos on "Dance Moms." The emotional choreography and Maddie's exceptional performance received critical acclaim and left a lasting impact on audiences.
Best Technique: Maddie Ziegler is frequently praised for her strong technique and precision. Many of her solos, including "The Last Text" and "Black Swan," showcased her technical prowess and attention to detail.
Best Turns: Sophia Lucia was known for her exceptional turning ability. She held the Guinness World Record for the most consecutive pirouettes (55) at the time. Her solos, such as "Red Queen" and "Famous," often featured impressive turns and spins.
Best Jumps: Kalani Hilliker was often recognized for her impressive jumps and athleticism. Her solo "It's Like Summer" showcased her powerful and controlled jumps, including leaps and grand jetés.
What were each of the dance mom original girls strength and weaknesses in dance? ? .
Each of the original Dance Moms girls showcased their own strengths and weaknesses in dance throughout the show. Here's a general overview of their strengths and areas where they may have faced challenges:
Maddie Ziegler: Strengths: Maddie was known for her exceptional technique, emotional expression, and stage presence. She consistently delivered strong performances in various dance styles, particularly contemporary and lyrical. Weaknesses: While Maddie was highly versatile, some viewers felt that she occasionally relied on similar movement patterns and expressions, leading to critiques of lacking diversity in her performances.
Chloe Lukasiak: Strengths: Chloe possessed excellent technical abilities, with strong ballet and lyrical skills. She was praised for her graceful lines, flexibility, and musicality. Weaknesses: Chloe occasionally struggled with confidence and sometimes allowed nerves to affect her performances. This resulted in occasional inconsistencies and difficulty fully embracing the character or emotion of a routine.
Nia Sioux: Strengths: Nia was known for her versatility and ability to tackle various dance styles. She had a powerful stage presence and excelled in energetic, fierce routines. Nia's strength in hip-hop and urban styles set her apart. Weaknesses: Nia sometimes faced challenges with technical precision, particularly in executing intricate footwork or maintaining sharpness in certain dance styles.
Brooke Hyland: Strengths: Brooke had a natural elegance and fluidity in her movements, particularly in contemporary and lyrical styles. She displayed strength and control in lifts and partner work. Weaknesses: Brooke occasionally struggled with self-confidence, and there were moments when she appeared reserved or disconnected from the emotion of a routine.
Paige Hyland: Strengths: Paige had a natural athleticism and flexibility, which allowed her to excel in acrobatic elements and tricks. She displayed enthusiasm and energy in her performances. Weaknesses: Paige occasionally faced challenges with technique and precision, particularly in executing intricate turns and jumps consistently.
Kendall Vertes: Strengths: Kendall had a strong technical foundation and flexibility. She showcased improvement in her performances over time, displaying growth in her execution and confidence. Weaknesses: Kendall sometimes struggled with fully embodying the emotion or character of a routine, which led to critiques of lacking depth or connection.
My takeaway:
Yes it forgot kenzie 😂 Kenzie is not an Original dance moms girl
The last text was maddies solo as was whalcg and stomp the yard was nias and waiting room kendalls.
The stories of the dances were very different from what we believed 😂
Sophias solo Famous and Kalanis feels like summer where surely amazing.
2023.06.10 18:12 hellgremlon A Hidden Chamber Took My Life From Me
I certainly hope this gets read and someone here can come up with something better than my only plan. I'll start at the beginning.
As a kid and even into adulthood, I've always had a fascination with secret rooms behind hidden doors. You know, the kind where you can pull on a specific book and the shelf moves to reveal a dimly lit cozy sancutary that is filled with treasures for only you and your closest friends. Movies and a vivid imagination had me making my own secret alcoves in the back of my closet where I could escape reality and do some reading in a cramped space made entirely of pillows and blankets with only a flashlight to read by. That was the closest I could get to having my dream room.
So imagine my excitement when at the age of 34 my husband and finally bought our first house.
And that house came with a hidden room.
When I bought the house I had not actually had the chance to go through it properly first. Only seeing about 15 pictures of it and speaking with a realtor over the phone. I was moving about 6 hours away for work and my husband could do his job from anywhere. The town we were moving to was very family friendly with a good school district and I was looking forward to the idea of settling down and hopefully having kids soon.
The description of the house noted it was 3 to 4 bedrooms and 2 baths.
3 to 4 bedrooms seemed strange to me so I texted my realtor and asked what that meant. She replied that the people who built the house years ago had included a hidden room within one of the bedrooms but didn't give any more information than that.
She couldn't tell me where it was inside the house and "good luck finding it."
So I bought the house, new challenge and a childhood dream about to come true. Even my husband was thrilled by the idea. Quoting everything from Young Frankenstein to The Addams Family.
We ended up living in the house for almost two years before I found the hidden room. The lightbulb in the ceiling fan of the nursery I was preparing for our unborn daughter had gone out. When I removed the light cover to replace the bulb I noticed a switch next to the bulb.
Now my husband and I spent almost every evening becoming private detectives just trying to find this hidden room, to no avail. We made many discoveries that ultimately led to home improvement projects and finally decided we would find it when we find it and stop searching for it.
Heart fluttering with hope and long endured anticipation, I flicked the switch.
A sound came from inside the closet. Walking over to it I saw that the far right wall had separated from the back wall. I pulled it open and was stunned to find a narrow brick set of stairs leading downward. My husband was away on his annual guys fishing trip for a few more days so I braved the stairs myself, only pausing to get a flashlight.
Now I'm thinking everything from secret hidden treasure, to old tomes, family secrets, possibly even a dungeon. Anything besides what I was actually greeted with.
A stark white clean room with a single lime green couch pushed against the back wall and a Tiffany lamp standing to the side of it. I turned on the lamp and had a look around the room. It was directly below the nursery room and exactly the same size. Nothing on the walls. Nothing on the concrete floor. Just a brick staircase to a hideous couch. I sat down for a minute, thinking of what to do with this hidden chamber and how disappointed my husband is going to be when he finds out its not filled with torture devices.
Back upstairs I closed the passage door, changed the lighbulb and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for lunch. I found turkey and Swiss cheese in the fridge and stared at it confused.
"That's weird" I said aloud. I knew I bought Blackforest ham and cheddar when I went to the store only about an hour ago. I didn't think about it for long and chalked it up to baby brain. Turkey and Swiss would do just fine, anyway. The next day folding laundry I found a shirt in the hamper that I had never seen before. It was a maternity top but I couldn't remember ever buying it. Baby brain again, I assumed.
My husband came home the following day...in a blue pick-up. Not a black one. I froze in the driveway and knew this couldn't be baby brain. So I did the sensible thing and asked my husband.
"You got a new truck while you were fishing?" I said, a little too high pitched. He kissed my cheek and gave me an odd look, then glanced back at his truck.
"Um, no? Same truck as always. You feeling okay?" He immediately put his hands to my cheeks and started checking me for a fever. "I'm fine. Maybe I'm just tried." I replied, trying to shake the confusion off. The worry was still prying at my mind and I wondered if I was actually going crazy. Then remembered the hidden room.
"Hey, do you wanna see what I found?"
He knew instantly what I was talking about and followed me to the nursery with a goofy grin on his face. I showed him the switch in the ceiling fan and watched as he pulled the door open to the staircase. I followed him into the hidden room and watched as he plopped onto the green couch.
"Well this was a let down" he said before amending "still cool though. We could set this room up for when our daughter gets old enough. She can do whatever she wants with it."
Back upstairs in the nursery we both paused as we closed the passage door. The room was no longer pink, it was blue. We exchanged looks which, long story short, led us to my doctor, which led us to an ultrasound, which confirmed I was having a baby boy. Not a girl.
I don't remember us sleeping much that night. And the next few days that followed were strange. Dish sets were patterned differently. The spices where in the cabinet to the left, not the right. Our entire bedroom was arranged differently and the couch was now leather. My Hundai that I remembered having was now a Honda. Both of us felt like we were going crazy yet somehow learning to live with the changes since well, we kind of liked the new dishes and couch and car. And even though we had gotten used to the idea of having a girl, we were just happy to be having a baby at all.
Then this morning happened.
My due date was coming up fast and my mother had sent a hand-made monkey stuffed animal that she crocheted herself. I gathered a few more items, some children's books and a few throw blankets into a box and took them down to the hidden room. I set up the couch to look cozy, staked some books next to the lamp and placed the monkey on top of them. As I rested my hands on my belly, I couldn't wait for our son to come of age and turn this space into his own sancutary. Clicking off the Tiffany lamp I walked back up the stairs and closed the door behind me.
The nursery was gone. In its place was a queen sized bed with tables on either side and a small lamp on each table. A picture of a landscape hanging above the bed and sheer white curtains over the windows. I gasped and felt at my stomach only to realize that I was no longer pregnant.
I tried to call my husband but the number connected me to some lady. Panic was setting in and my mind has been racing. I haven't been able to cry. Everything is different. There are still signs of my husband's taste around the house though. I reached out to my mother whose number had thankfully remained the same and asked her for my husband's number.
"Oh honey, Mike died last year on his fishing trip with the boys..." I couldn't say anything as she offered to come stay with me for a few days. I'm afraid if she comes here, she might disappear too so I told her I was fine.
I think that room has sent me to another reality. Like a portal or something. I don't know what to do. I just want my husband back. I want to have our baby. I'm going to keep going to the hidden room, keep filling it with things for my child until I'm pregnant again and Mike returns. I don't know what else I could possibly do.
submitted by hellgremlon to nosleep [link] [comments]
As a kid and even into adulthood, I've always had a fascination with secret rooms behind hidden doors. You know, the kind where you can pull on a specific book and the shelf moves to reveal a dimly lit cozy sancutary that is filled with treasures for only you and your closest friends. Movies and a vivid imagination had me making my own secret alcoves in the back of my closet where I could escape reality and do some reading in a cramped space made entirely of pillows and blankets with only a flashlight to read by. That was the closest I could get to having my dream room.
So imagine my excitement when at the age of 34 my husband and finally bought our first house.
And that house came with a hidden room.
When I bought the house I had not actually had the chance to go through it properly first. Only seeing about 15 pictures of it and speaking with a realtor over the phone. I was moving about 6 hours away for work and my husband could do his job from anywhere. The town we were moving to was very family friendly with a good school district and I was looking forward to the idea of settling down and hopefully having kids soon.
The description of the house noted it was 3 to 4 bedrooms and 2 baths.
3 to 4 bedrooms seemed strange to me so I texted my realtor and asked what that meant. She replied that the people who built the house years ago had included a hidden room within one of the bedrooms but didn't give any more information than that.
She couldn't tell me where it was inside the house and "good luck finding it."
So I bought the house, new challenge and a childhood dream about to come true. Even my husband was thrilled by the idea. Quoting everything from Young Frankenstein to The Addams Family.
We ended up living in the house for almost two years before I found the hidden room. The lightbulb in the ceiling fan of the nursery I was preparing for our unborn daughter had gone out. When I removed the light cover to replace the bulb I noticed a switch next to the bulb.
Now my husband and I spent almost every evening becoming private detectives just trying to find this hidden room, to no avail. We made many discoveries that ultimately led to home improvement projects and finally decided we would find it when we find it and stop searching for it.
Heart fluttering with hope and long endured anticipation, I flicked the switch.
A sound came from inside the closet. Walking over to it I saw that the far right wall had separated from the back wall. I pulled it open and was stunned to find a narrow brick set of stairs leading downward. My husband was away on his annual guys fishing trip for a few more days so I braved the stairs myself, only pausing to get a flashlight.
Now I'm thinking everything from secret hidden treasure, to old tomes, family secrets, possibly even a dungeon. Anything besides what I was actually greeted with.
A stark white clean room with a single lime green couch pushed against the back wall and a Tiffany lamp standing to the side of it. I turned on the lamp and had a look around the room. It was directly below the nursery room and exactly the same size. Nothing on the walls. Nothing on the concrete floor. Just a brick staircase to a hideous couch. I sat down for a minute, thinking of what to do with this hidden chamber and how disappointed my husband is going to be when he finds out its not filled with torture devices.
Back upstairs I closed the passage door, changed the lighbulb and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for lunch. I found turkey and Swiss cheese in the fridge and stared at it confused.
"That's weird" I said aloud. I knew I bought Blackforest ham and cheddar when I went to the store only about an hour ago. I didn't think about it for long and chalked it up to baby brain. Turkey and Swiss would do just fine, anyway. The next day folding laundry I found a shirt in the hamper that I had never seen before. It was a maternity top but I couldn't remember ever buying it. Baby brain again, I assumed.
My husband came home the following day...in a blue pick-up. Not a black one. I froze in the driveway and knew this couldn't be baby brain. So I did the sensible thing and asked my husband.
"You got a new truck while you were fishing?" I said, a little too high pitched. He kissed my cheek and gave me an odd look, then glanced back at his truck.
"Um, no? Same truck as always. You feeling okay?" He immediately put his hands to my cheeks and started checking me for a fever. "I'm fine. Maybe I'm just tried." I replied, trying to shake the confusion off. The worry was still prying at my mind and I wondered if I was actually going crazy. Then remembered the hidden room.
"Hey, do you wanna see what I found?"
He knew instantly what I was talking about and followed me to the nursery with a goofy grin on his face. I showed him the switch in the ceiling fan and watched as he pulled the door open to the staircase. I followed him into the hidden room and watched as he plopped onto the green couch.
"Well this was a let down" he said before amending "still cool though. We could set this room up for when our daughter gets old enough. She can do whatever she wants with it."
Back upstairs in the nursery we both paused as we closed the passage door. The room was no longer pink, it was blue. We exchanged looks which, long story short, led us to my doctor, which led us to an ultrasound, which confirmed I was having a baby boy. Not a girl.
I don't remember us sleeping much that night. And the next few days that followed were strange. Dish sets were patterned differently. The spices where in the cabinet to the left, not the right. Our entire bedroom was arranged differently and the couch was now leather. My Hundai that I remembered having was now a Honda. Both of us felt like we were going crazy yet somehow learning to live with the changes since well, we kind of liked the new dishes and couch and car. And even though we had gotten used to the idea of having a girl, we were just happy to be having a baby at all.
Then this morning happened.
My due date was coming up fast and my mother had sent a hand-made monkey stuffed animal that she crocheted herself. I gathered a few more items, some children's books and a few throw blankets into a box and took them down to the hidden room. I set up the couch to look cozy, staked some books next to the lamp and placed the monkey on top of them. As I rested my hands on my belly, I couldn't wait for our son to come of age and turn this space into his own sancutary. Clicking off the Tiffany lamp I walked back up the stairs and closed the door behind me.
The nursery was gone. In its place was a queen sized bed with tables on either side and a small lamp on each table. A picture of a landscape hanging above the bed and sheer white curtains over the windows. I gasped and felt at my stomach only to realize that I was no longer pregnant.
I tried to call my husband but the number connected me to some lady. Panic was setting in and my mind has been racing. I haven't been able to cry. Everything is different. There are still signs of my husband's taste around the house though. I reached out to my mother whose number had thankfully remained the same and asked her for my husband's number.
"Oh honey, Mike died last year on his fishing trip with the boys..." I couldn't say anything as she offered to come stay with me for a few days. I'm afraid if she comes here, she might disappear too so I told her I was fine.
I think that room has sent me to another reality. Like a portal or something. I don't know what to do. I just want my husband back. I want to have our baby. I'm going to keep going to the hidden room, keep filling it with things for my child until I'm pregnant again and Mike returns. I don't know what else I could possibly do.
2023.06.10 18:11 BIN-ILL-03 Friday Night Funkin': Vs. Impostor Fanmade Version 5.0 Concepts Part 01: Weeks 01 & 02
Week 01 / Polus Problems / Red Impostor
- Boyfriend and Girlfriend are ghosts in their Meltdown dialogue portraits.
- Being the first week of the mod, it's essentially perfect so it can have good presentation. Not much I can do about that.
Week 02 / Mira Mania / Green Impostor
- After Sussus Toogus, there's extra dialogue followed by a cutscene.
- Green: wow guys that was so fun wow!!!!!
- Green: its so nice to bond with my crew in among us by innersloth
- Boyfriend: tbh i still dont trust you
- Girlfriend: yeah green HELLA sus! no cap!
- Boyfriend: so true! slay queen!!
- (Green's portrait now seems more annoyed than cheerful.)
- Green: ...
- (The cutscene begins. Boyfriend and Girlfriend are completely unmoving, yet Boyfriend still produces a beep. Green facepalms and lets out a slight growl, revealing his mouth. Green stops facepalming and roars at the couple, drawing a knife and shocking the two. Green begins smirking and chuckles. You then proceed to the regular dialogue of Lights Down.)
- Lights Down's latter dialogue has background music with it, as well as the remix intended to be in the hotfix
- Instead of venting away at the end of Lights Down, Boyfriend and Girlfriend do it in the next cutscene.
- Boyfriend: It seems I underestimated you, Green Impostor...
- Boyfriend: You are a far more formidable foe than I anticipated...
- Green: bro wachu gettin at tf??
- Boyfriend: You may think you have the upper hand in this duel, however, my loving Girlfriend and I have something up our sleeves...
- Girlfriend: i have literally no idea what he's talking about
- Boyfriend: we're ENGINEERS!!!
- Girlfriend: wait are we
- Green: how does this change anything
- Boyfriend: it is quite simple
- (The cutscene begins. Boyfriend grabs Girlfriend's arm and pulls her into the nearest vent with him. Green once again looks pissed off, begrudgingly walking over to the same vent and hopping inside. You see Boyfriend and Girlfriend crawling through the vents with a flashlight, but Boyfriend pauses to cough. You can hear more crawling in the distance, which is implied to be Green. The two hurry up and exit through the vent in the reactor. They're greeted by the entire crew, watching them.)
- Yellow: hhrrrrmmm................
- Boyfriend: uhhhhh
- Brown: errrmmm, awkward........
- Girlfriend: no we watched each other scan we're engineers
- Brown: oh ok sorry fam
- Boyfriend: its all good man
- Girlfriend: wait like the guy from breaking bad
- Boyfriend: SHUT UP
- (Another cutscene plays. Green jumps out of the same vent Boyfriend and Girlfriend came from, drawing the whole crew's attention.)
- Green: uhhh im an engineer guys dont worry haha!
- Brown: no theres only 2 engineer this game and those 2 said they we're engineers
- Green: if you vote me out your gay
- Yellow: shitttt fair
- Green: the boyfriend and the girlfriend. i would like to have a word with you
- Boyfriend: gulps
- Green: ok dude you just said the word "gulps" out loud what the fuck
- Green: anyway YOU HAVE HUMILIATED ME ENOUGH THE BOYFRIEND
- Green: THOSE VENTS WERE DIRTY AS FUCK I WANNA KMS
- Green: BUT IM GONNA SLIT YOUR TRHOATS FIRST SHITHEADS
- Girlfriend: woah woah WOAH CALM DOWN SIR
- Green: SHUT THE FUCK UP IM TIRED
- Green's exhaustion in Reactor is also displayed in his icons. The 9 + 10 = 21 reference is added back to the control panel.
- After Reactor, you finally get context for Ejected.
- Green: KILL YOURSELF
- Boyfriend: wtf that was spammy as hell
- Girlfriend: yeah that chart sucked ass shithead
- Brown: hey guys i just realised..,
- Brown: if green says that us voting him out is gay
- Brown: is he trying to say that its BAD to be gay??
- Yellow: shitttt fair
- Green: ...
- Brown: what do you have to say for yourself
- Green: heh.
- Brown: what
- Green: haha...
- Brown: you good dude?
- Green: ahahaha
- Yellow: lets leave guys this is weird
- Brown: yeah bye loser
- (WATCH THIS THING THIS IS AN ACTUAL UNUSED CUTSCENE)
- Despite how much I love the ode to the Toppat motif, at that point of the song, Green and Boyfriend would be singing along to the instrumental, which overpowered their voices to begin with.
- (The new ending cutscene for Mira Mania begins. Boyfriend and Girlfriend are out of ideas, and Green cackles to celebrate, but just a moment too soon. Boyfriend finds two blue wires falling next to him and touches them together, which counted as the final task of the match. The crew goes to the victory screen and Green is in the distance, back to normal and confused as fuck. The crew lifts up Boyfriend and cheers for him.)
2023.06.10 17:49 numali61 New to naltrexone…when does it work?
21 y/o female just graduated college in one of the more “you need to be on your shit soon because it could affect people’s lives” majors. Nursing. I started drinking freshman year of college, which turned into weekend drinking, which turned into every other day/daily drinking alone, in my room, for 3-4 years. I’m 150 pounds now, and came into college at 125, which i know for a fact has all come from sugary alcoholic beverages. I’m well aware that drinking sucks, based on how it makes me feel and how long it takes to recover. I have a family history (Dad, and paternal grandmother [deceased], both undiagnosed but we’re Hispanic and the whole family just knows.) I don’t want to be an alcoholic. I find the term “alcoholic” sometimes difficult to identify with because im not drinking whiskey on the rocks at 2pm on my lunch break. I’m not doing the dad-like alcoholic things, or pouring spirits in my morning coffee. I drink white claws from the gas station alone in my room at 8pm while I do “self care” and watch movies and clean my bathroom. But I’m more than well aware that three tall boy white claws everyday with the excuse that “I did something good today, so I deserve it” is probably alcoholism. I took longer than I wanted to to finally get on naltrexone, because I was worried about my parents insurance and the EOB (explanation of benefits) getting back to them, and even finding a doctor in my college town (far far from home). I read some threads and found out about web doctors. I booked a consultation and had a prescription at my local pharmacy the next day.
Here’s where the question starts. I’m starting on 25mg (half a tab) for 2 days, then a whole tab or 50mg everyday. I’m choosing to follow TSM, so instead of everyday, I think I’ll take it just when I know I’m about to drink (an hour before). Today is day 2, so I’ve completed my two halves. Yesterday was awful. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I threw up because I knew the feeling to throw up was there (I basically gagged on purpose to get it over with—I don’t usually throw up). I could’ve held it but I didn’t. I don’t know if I blame the meds yet, because I was hungover, so it could’ve been that too.
Anyway. I’m on day 2 and I’ve drank both days because doc said not to stop cold turkey. Also, most videos I’ve seen said to drink as you normally would and wait for the effects. My question comes here. I’m drinking, as we speak on day 2. And I don’t feel the “you’re gonna think your drink is gross and it’s gonna take you forever to finish a single drink” feeling. I don’t feel drunk, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying my drinks. In fact , I’ll definitely open one or two more before bed. Am I doing something wrong? I’m definitely asking this so prematurely but I’m worried that the medication I’ve literally had dreams of being on isn’t going to work for me. And I need so badly for it to work. Is it going to take a lot more time?
TLDR; started naltrexone two days ago but I’m still enjoying my drinks. Is it going to take a lot longer before I start to not want to drink?
submitted by numali61 to Alcoholism_Medication [link] [comments]
Here’s where the question starts. I’m starting on 25mg (half a tab) for 2 days, then a whole tab or 50mg everyday. I’m choosing to follow TSM, so instead of everyday, I think I’ll take it just when I know I’m about to drink (an hour before). Today is day 2, so I’ve completed my two halves. Yesterday was awful. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I threw up because I knew the feeling to throw up was there (I basically gagged on purpose to get it over with—I don’t usually throw up). I could’ve held it but I didn’t. I don’t know if I blame the meds yet, because I was hungover, so it could’ve been that too.
Anyway. I’m on day 2 and I’ve drank both days because doc said not to stop cold turkey. Also, most videos I’ve seen said to drink as you normally would and wait for the effects. My question comes here. I’m drinking, as we speak on day 2. And I don’t feel the “you’re gonna think your drink is gross and it’s gonna take you forever to finish a single drink” feeling. I don’t feel drunk, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying my drinks. In fact , I’ll definitely open one or two more before bed. Am I doing something wrong? I’m definitely asking this so prematurely but I’m worried that the medication I’ve literally had dreams of being on isn’t going to work for me. And I need so badly for it to work. Is it going to take a lot more time?
TLDR; started naltrexone two days ago but I’m still enjoying my drinks. Is it going to take a lot longer before I start to not want to drink?
2023.06.10 17:29 numali61 New to naltrexone…when does it work?
21 y/o female just graduated college in one of the more “you need to be on your shit soon because it could affect people’s lives” majors. Nursing. I started drinking freshman year of college, which turned into weekend drinking, which turned into every other day/daily drinking alone, in my room, for 3-4 years. I’m 150 pounds now, and came into college at 125, which i know for a fact has all come from sugary alcoholic beverages. I’m well aware that drinking sucks, based on how it makes me feel and how long it takes to recover. I have a family history (Dad, and paternal grandmother [deceased], both undiagnosed but we’re Hispanic and the whole family just knows.) I don’t want to be an alcoholic. I find the term “alcoholic” sometimes difficult to identify with because im not drinking whiskey on the rocks at 2pm on my lunch break. I’m not doing the dad-like alcoholic things, or pouring spirits in my morning coffee. I drink white claws from the gas station alone in my room at 8pm while I do “self care” and watch movies and clean my bathroom. But I’m more than well aware that three tall boy white claws everyday with the excuse that “I did something good today, so I deserve it” is probably alcoholism. I took longer than I wanted to to finally get on naltrexone, because I was worried about my parents insurance and the EOB (explanation of benefits) getting back to them, and even finding a doctor in my college town (far far from home). I read some threads and found out about web doctors. I booked a consultation and had a prescription at my local pharmacy the next day.
Here’s where the question starts. I’m starting on 25mg (half a tab) for 2 days, then a whole tab or 50mg everyday. I’m choosing to follow TSM, so instead of everyday, I think I’ll take it just when I know I’m about to drink (an hour before). Today is day 2, so I’ve completed my two halves. Yesterday was awful. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I threw up because I knew the feeling to throw up was there (I basically gagged on purpose to get it over with—I don’t usually throw up). I could’ve held it but I didn’t. I don’t know if I blame the meds yet, because I was hungover, so it could’ve been that too.
Anyway. I’m on day 2 and I’ve drank both days because doc said not to stop cold turkey. Also, most videos I’ve seen said to drink as you normally would and wait for the effects. My question comes here. I’m drinking, as we speak on day 2. And I don’t feel the “you’re gonna think your drink is gross and it’s gonna take you forever to finish a single drink” feeling. I don’t feel drunk, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying my drinks. In fact , I’ll definitely open one or two more before bed. Am I doing something wrong? I’m definitely asking this so prematurely but I’m worried that the medication I’ve literally had dreams of being on isn’t going to work for me. And I need so badly for it to work. Is it going to take a lot more time?
TLDR; started naltrexone two days ago but I’m still enjoying my drinks. Is it going to take a lot longer before I start to not want to drink?
submitted by numali61 to naltrexone [link] [comments]
Here’s where the question starts. I’m starting on 25mg (half a tab) for 2 days, then a whole tab or 50mg everyday. I’m choosing to follow TSM, so instead of everyday, I think I’ll take it just when I know I’m about to drink (an hour before). Today is day 2, so I’ve completed my two halves. Yesterday was awful. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I threw up because I knew the feeling to throw up was there (I basically gagged on purpose to get it over with—I don’t usually throw up). I could’ve held it but I didn’t. I don’t know if I blame the meds yet, because I was hungover, so it could’ve been that too.
Anyway. I’m on day 2 and I’ve drank both days because doc said not to stop cold turkey. Also, most videos I’ve seen said to drink as you normally would and wait for the effects. My question comes here. I’m drinking, as we speak on day 2. And I don’t feel the “you’re gonna think your drink is gross and it’s gonna take you forever to finish a single drink” feeling. I don’t feel drunk, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying my drinks. In fact , I’ll definitely open one or two more before bed. Am I doing something wrong? I’m definitely asking this so prematurely but I’m worried that the medication I’ve literally had dreams of being on isn’t going to work for me. And I need so badly for it to work. Is it going to take a lot more time?
TLDR; started naltrexone two days ago but I’m still enjoying my drinks. Is it going to take a lot longer before I start to not want to drink?
2023.06.10 17:28 2muchpethair Was I sexually abused by my mother?
Sooooo I've always felt some kind of way about it but it wasnt something that kept me up at night.. I've gotten through all my trauma but now that I'm a young adult who wants to be more sexually involved past abuse is surfacing. I can't explain everything as I only remember small portions of my childhood but I'll do my best.
Basically the earliest I remember is my neighbor who was a girl and slightly older than me was the one who introduced me to sex. Basically both our parents were shit and never around which is how this happened in the first place... but to keep it short and somewhat PG she made me perform sexual acts on her. One day my brother walked in on us and told my mom. Well later that day she beat me with a belt for it and that was that.
Skip to some random time later that I don't remember... but the sexual acts had continued with the neighbor and she had me watch porn and draw out what I saw because she wanted me to give my drawings to her. My mom found the drawings and again I got beat for it... although this time she asked me where I got the idea from and I told her who. She believed the answer, that it was my neighbor, but she preferred a different one. So she beat me again until I gave her a different name. This went on and off idk how many times but basically she beat me multiple times in a row until I told her my grandma's name (her mother) because she hated her and always wanted a reason to start stuff.
That's the main memory... but following the years after that my mother continued to make me sleep in the same bed as her despite us having a 4bedroom house I never had my own. She would sleep next to me naked in "our" queen sized bed... not very big obviously..and walk around the house naked.
I was going though puberty and started growing public hair. I would get ingrown often and she never taught me how to fit it myself... she enjoyed making me pull my pants down so she could pluck the hairs herself. Eventually I stopped telling her I was getting them and so she resorted to taking my pants off and doing this and lord knows what else while I was sleep. I never caught her doing it but she admitted this to me.
Skip to teenage years when I started having a highschool boyfriend she started talking about how I needed to date "a strong man who could control me" and that if I decided to have sex I would need to get her approval on the person first. She said that she wanted to get a lock and key jewelry set so that I would have the lock and she could give the key portion to the person I'll have sex with. Mind you were not religious at all... never have been. She was just super controlling over me and obsessed with me having sex. When I broke up with my boyfriend her response was literally "what happened? Did he rape you?" Also because we were dumb kids, my friends would sometimes send me dumb sexually themed memes and I would get yelled at for having them on my phone. It was totally uncalled for because even now I still see memes like that and they're not serious at all. If I had a kid who saw them I would just be like "bruh really" not yell at them.
There was also a few times where she would kiss my neck, and she would often grab my butt and breast. I was very verbal about my discomfort but she didn't care. She would literally say "you came from me so this(body part)is mine" or "incest is best" while stroking my arm.
I did have more to say but now my brain is saying that's enough for today cuz I can't remember anything else even though I know there's more😭 I lowkey feel like my mom was a pedophile but idk like I'm at a stage where I know what happened to me and I realize the effects... but my brain still has no feeling towards it. For some reason I also get this feeling that something worse happened to me but I just don't remember what happened? Idk if that makes sense. Because I have this fear of men overall, but especially a specific race of men that is totally uncalled for due to having no bad experiences with them that I can recall. Ya know? It's just this odd gut feeling that I get but can't explain.
But basically to summarize... now that I'm older I have had sex but each time I dissociated send froze so don't even know what really happened. I hate being touched or kissed, I don't want to hear about sex and even watching people kiss in movies gives me anxiety so I turn it off. I've tried experimenting with myself sexually to try to rewire my brain, but everything just ends up painful from myself tensing up so much.
So yeahhhhh that's it for now.
submitted by 2muchpethair to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
Basically the earliest I remember is my neighbor who was a girl and slightly older than me was the one who introduced me to sex. Basically both our parents were shit and never around which is how this happened in the first place... but to keep it short and somewhat PG she made me perform sexual acts on her. One day my brother walked in on us and told my mom. Well later that day she beat me with a belt for it and that was that.
Skip to some random time later that I don't remember... but the sexual acts had continued with the neighbor and she had me watch porn and draw out what I saw because she wanted me to give my drawings to her. My mom found the drawings and again I got beat for it... although this time she asked me where I got the idea from and I told her who. She believed the answer, that it was my neighbor, but she preferred a different one. So she beat me again until I gave her a different name. This went on and off idk how many times but basically she beat me multiple times in a row until I told her my grandma's name (her mother) because she hated her and always wanted a reason to start stuff.
That's the main memory... but following the years after that my mother continued to make me sleep in the same bed as her despite us having a 4bedroom house I never had my own. She would sleep next to me naked in "our" queen sized bed... not very big obviously..and walk around the house naked.
I was going though puberty and started growing public hair. I would get ingrown often and she never taught me how to fit it myself... she enjoyed making me pull my pants down so she could pluck the hairs herself. Eventually I stopped telling her I was getting them and so she resorted to taking my pants off and doing this and lord knows what else while I was sleep. I never caught her doing it but she admitted this to me.
Skip to teenage years when I started having a highschool boyfriend she started talking about how I needed to date "a strong man who could control me" and that if I decided to have sex I would need to get her approval on the person first. She said that she wanted to get a lock and key jewelry set so that I would have the lock and she could give the key portion to the person I'll have sex with. Mind you were not religious at all... never have been. She was just super controlling over me and obsessed with me having sex. When I broke up with my boyfriend her response was literally "what happened? Did he rape you?" Also because we were dumb kids, my friends would sometimes send me dumb sexually themed memes and I would get yelled at for having them on my phone. It was totally uncalled for because even now I still see memes like that and they're not serious at all. If I had a kid who saw them I would just be like "bruh really" not yell at them.
There was also a few times where she would kiss my neck, and she would often grab my butt and breast. I was very verbal about my discomfort but she didn't care. She would literally say "you came from me so this(body part)is mine" or "incest is best" while stroking my arm.
I did have more to say but now my brain is saying that's enough for today cuz I can't remember anything else even though I know there's more😭 I lowkey feel like my mom was a pedophile but idk like I'm at a stage where I know what happened to me and I realize the effects... but my brain still has no feeling towards it. For some reason I also get this feeling that something worse happened to me but I just don't remember what happened? Idk if that makes sense. Because I have this fear of men overall, but especially a specific race of men that is totally uncalled for due to having no bad experiences with them that I can recall. Ya know? It's just this odd gut feeling that I get but can't explain.
But basically to summarize... now that I'm older I have had sex but each time I dissociated send froze so don't even know what really happened. I hate being touched or kissed, I don't want to hear about sex and even watching people kiss in movies gives me anxiety so I turn it off. I've tried experimenting with myself sexually to try to rewire my brain, but everything just ends up painful from myself tensing up so much.
So yeahhhhh that's it for now.
2023.06.10 16:55 WinterGossamerVeil "Summertime"
Summertime
Warning: graphic description of abuse
Dear RBNs,
I have tagged this post with "Support needed", because this hard story of abuse haunts me still. Although my inner child would love to hear from as many of you as possible , I am aware that the post is disturbing and hence you might prefer to skip it.So, I am going to be ok with whatever comes out of my post.
Summertime is a George Gershwin song, and I do love Janis Joplin 's cover . It's a lullaby, sang for the sake of a crying child ,and it is my comfort song . Summer used to make my Narc-Queen/Witch mother more nervous than usual. We have here, in the Mediterranean area, this hot kind of summer season, sultry and full of blinding light . As a child, I did not like it...School time was over, and I was aware that mom "was not well" during my school holidays.I did not have any other words for her condition apart from "being tired".That's how she used to describe herself, upset by the stuffiness that was aggravating her undiagnosed mental illness. Undiagnosed...Yes, sadly. My efather for once has had taken a stand and brought her to see a doctor, but unfortunately he happened to be a relative...a neurologist (not a psychologist neither a psychiatrist) who was too fast to dismiss the case. Mom made up a scene, declaring that she was just too much of a sensitive woman, happening to be the spouse of a cold hearted man...The guy was misled both by her acting performance and the avoidant style of my dad.
This lead to my horrible situation, where I had to deal alone with the brunt of my mother's "excessive sensitivity". No one cared that a bunch of children had to grow with a openly deranged woman.
So, that day she was tired. The days before she has had told it so many times, arguing with growing agitation with my father.She wailed that she was tired of being alone, of us being too many children (two little ones and an infant), of him hanging out with friends in the evening,of both her domestic work and the garden+vegetable garden up keeping (although me and GC sisters worked as little slaves relentlessly with her in them, GC getting praise and recognition, me, being the elder, just doing "my duty").All of this in an enormous house that SHE insisted to live in for the sake of her grandiose facade.
It was two PM and she wanted me and sister to go to bed...with her. I sensed something was up and really did not want to, but she was adamant about this afternoon nap.
She strangely discarded her bedroom , where my infant little brother was sleeping, and decided that she'd sleep with me in my bed. My sister should stay in hers, next to mine in our bedroom.She obliged me to face the wall and ordered me with harsh, cold voice: "Don't move, keep quiet. You know I am exhausted,I need to rest".
I was trapped. It was hot, the semi-darkness was filled with her body and perfume, yet hers was not a reassuring presence...I already knew about her explosive, unreasonable fits of rage. Immobilized against the wall, my nine years old petite body started to ache.I was scared to change somehow position, as my old iron bed could creak."What if it does and she hits me?" My mind was racing to find an impossible solution...and the worst happened. I could not take it anymore, I stirred a bit... and all Hell broke loose. As I stood lying on my stomach, paralyzed with terror, a hail of punches hit my head and my back.A screeched "I-have-told-you-not-to-make-noise-you-fucking-little-shit" set the pace of the beating.I lost both my breath and consciousness for some seconds that lasted an eternity, then I "come back" to reality and she was hitting me still...She had not even realized that I have fainted, as I was shocked into silence.Then, she got off the bed swearing at her misfortune for having to live such a horrible life with horrible people and went for her own business somewhere in the house.I looked after my terrorized GC sister,lying to her that I was ok, then went, groggy and still in pain, to the bathroom, in order to check my head and back , and to hide from the lunatic.During the day my back become blue with bruises and some bumps popped up on my head, but the damage was not in plain sight and plus no one saw anything wrong with my upset face so, you know..."Summertime... and the living is easy... " (beautiful Janis Joplin's voice)
Thank you for reading and feel free to share with me what you feel the need to. I want to add that now someone (YOU) , beyond my abuser and my husband, knows one of my shitty secret . In theory, also GC sister does, but I suppose that she conveniently does not remember how nice our school vacations used to be... /s
Edit: for clarity
submitted by WinterGossamerVeil to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
Warning: graphic description of abuse
Dear RBNs,
I have tagged this post with "Support needed", because this hard story of abuse haunts me still. Although my inner child would love to hear from as many of you as possible , I am aware that the post is disturbing and hence you might prefer to skip it.So, I am going to be ok with whatever comes out of my post.
Summertime is a George Gershwin song, and I do love Janis Joplin 's cover . It's a lullaby, sang for the sake of a crying child ,and it is my comfort song . Summer used to make my Narc-Queen/Witch mother more nervous than usual. We have here, in the Mediterranean area, this hot kind of summer season, sultry and full of blinding light . As a child, I did not like it...School time was over, and I was aware that mom "was not well" during my school holidays.I did not have any other words for her condition apart from "being tired".That's how she used to describe herself, upset by the stuffiness that was aggravating her undiagnosed mental illness. Undiagnosed...Yes, sadly. My efather for once has had taken a stand and brought her to see a doctor, but unfortunately he happened to be a relative...a neurologist (not a psychologist neither a psychiatrist) who was too fast to dismiss the case. Mom made up a scene, declaring that she was just too much of a sensitive woman, happening to be the spouse of a cold hearted man...The guy was misled both by her acting performance and the avoidant style of my dad.
This lead to my horrible situation, where I had to deal alone with the brunt of my mother's "excessive sensitivity". No one cared that a bunch of children had to grow with a openly deranged woman.
So, that day she was tired. The days before she has had told it so many times, arguing with growing agitation with my father.She wailed that she was tired of being alone, of us being too many children (two little ones and an infant), of him hanging out with friends in the evening,of both her domestic work and the garden+vegetable garden up keeping (although me and GC sisters worked as little slaves relentlessly with her in them, GC getting praise and recognition, me, being the elder, just doing "my duty").All of this in an enormous house that SHE insisted to live in for the sake of her grandiose facade.
It was two PM and she wanted me and sister to go to bed...with her. I sensed something was up and really did not want to, but she was adamant about this afternoon nap.
She strangely discarded her bedroom , where my infant little brother was sleeping, and decided that she'd sleep with me in my bed. My sister should stay in hers, next to mine in our bedroom.She obliged me to face the wall and ordered me with harsh, cold voice: "Don't move, keep quiet. You know I am exhausted,I need to rest".
I was trapped. It was hot, the semi-darkness was filled with her body and perfume, yet hers was not a reassuring presence...I already knew about her explosive, unreasonable fits of rage. Immobilized against the wall, my nine years old petite body started to ache.I was scared to change somehow position, as my old iron bed could creak."What if it does and she hits me?" My mind was racing to find an impossible solution...and the worst happened. I could not take it anymore, I stirred a bit... and all Hell broke loose. As I stood lying on my stomach, paralyzed with terror, a hail of punches hit my head and my back.A screeched "I-have-told-you-not-to-make-noise-you-fucking-little-shit" set the pace of the beating.I lost both my breath and consciousness for some seconds that lasted an eternity, then I "come back" to reality and she was hitting me still...She had not even realized that I have fainted, as I was shocked into silence.Then, she got off the bed swearing at her misfortune for having to live such a horrible life with horrible people and went for her own business somewhere in the house.I looked after my terrorized GC sister,lying to her that I was ok, then went, groggy and still in pain, to the bathroom, in order to check my head and back , and to hide from the lunatic.During the day my back become blue with bruises and some bumps popped up on my head, but the damage was not in plain sight and plus no one saw anything wrong with my upset face so, you know..."Summertime... and the living is easy... " (beautiful Janis Joplin's voice)
Thank you for reading and feel free to share with me what you feel the need to. I want to add that now someone (YOU) , beyond my abuser and my husband, knows one of my shitty secret . In theory, also GC sister does, but I suppose that she conveniently does not remember how nice our school vacations used to be... /s
Edit: for clarity
2023.06.10 16:48 TheBlackCycloneOrder If You Gamble Against a Man With a Hat for a Face, Know What Your Wager Is
All I ever wanted was for my wife and I to live comfortably. But the longer we stayed together, the higher our bills increased. We’d already fought off debts from college, barely scraping by. Even after we paid them off, we were only able to afford a tiny apartment on the outskirts of New York City.
Sidewalks laid cracked everywhere while condemned buildings sat sadly against their crooked foundations. Crooked lampposts would hang only by electrical wires. Graffiti marked every street corner in bland art that existed without rhyme or reason. Homeless people could be found on every street corner, a constant reminder of what would happen if my wife and I failed to keep up with our payments.
However, I managed to make somewhat decent money as a plumber. But even then, it sometimes wasn’t enough to deal with loan sharks, the hefty utility bills, food prices, and gas money. I was willing to do anything to get us out.
And that is where I encountered gambling. I was willing to take the risks. I’d take any chance to obtain a reward, even just a small one. It started out with just a handful of poker games. Then I moved on to scratch tickets and slot machines. All I needed was enough to get by. Unfortunately, obtaining a payday from the casinos was impossible. I started growing desperate, which only led to more debt. The whole cycle sucked me down like Odysseus’ ship in Charybdis’ maw. And just like that, my relationship with my wife began to tear us apart.
My wife and I were once so close together. Before we married, there would be days where we’d work together at wood shops, creating 3D prints of various sci-fi characters and video games. Other times we’d study the components of circuits and use them to create elaborate lighting displays whenever Christmas arrived. Our wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of our lives. Instead of relying on the help of others back like we did in college, we relied on ourselves.
But my actions tore all that apart. I didn’t know what else to do, either.
—
A few nights ago, I arrived at my shitty apartment, having completed a ten hour shift fixing the drains of several upper class folks. I rested my hand on the knob, expecting the worst from my wife. Sighing, I pushed the door. The moment I did, she was already in the front hall. Her eyes were scrunched and she was holding a bank statement, smacking it for emphasis.
“Care for an explanation?” She demanded.
I rubbed my temples, removing my scum covered overalls and plopping them right into the nearest laundry hamper. We locked eyes. Breaking eye contact with her would only ignite her anger further. She was holding another piece of evidence of my failures. My failure to strike it rich. All I could do was stand there sheepishly, tail tucked behind me, and wait to get ripped a new one. No words could come out of my mouth.
She marched up to me, holding it in my face. “Frank, you wasted three-thousand dollars at the casino AGAIN?!” my wife bellowed.
I set my tool box down and washed the pipe gunk from my hands, looking down just for a bit.
“Turn around and look me in the eyes.”
Resting a hand on my eyes, I glanced over at her petite frame. Then, I began to speak. “We can live comfortably if you just give-“
“Enough of the excuses! We nearly lost our apartment twice by you betting on slots, you wasted our heating money on roulette, and now this!”
I held up my hands reassuringly. “Look, just let me figure this out! I’ll think of some way to get the money!”
“You’d better. Otherwise we’re getting a divorce. Got it?”
Without another word, I put on a casual outfit, exiting for some fresh air. Shutting the door behind me, I gazed back at the unpolished apartment number on the frame. Wincing, I clenched a fist and descended the rickety stairs. Eventually, my boots hit the cracked pavement, and I headed off.
---
I had only made it a few blocks from my apartment, when I noticed shadows lurking in one of the alleyways. Picking up my stride, I try to evade the figures. They drew closer and closer. My stride changed into a sprint. Another alleyway comes into my sights. I make a break for it, hoping for an opportunity to escape. Only a dead end greets me. Before long, the figures cornered me. The light from a street lamp illuminated two shady faces. Loan sharks. Before I could react, the duo held me up by my throat.
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” I strained, feebly kicking back one of the thugs. He jammed a fist right under my rib cage. My lips pursed as I lost my breath. The other grabbed me by the chin, grinning like a maniac and revealing his tobacco rotted jaw. I gulped.
“Frank, calm down. Take it easy,” every word he said ground my inner ears. Brown saliva sprayed on my cheeks. “We just want to have a little talk…” I didn’t have the courage to speak up. All I could do was let them tell me everything.
“Your landlord is getting rather impatient with your payments. We just came to send a little message. He has some demands.” The other guy snarled.
I tugged on my collar. “What…demands?”
“The landlord wants you to cough up $18,000 for your next payment!”
My hands grew clammy. Were they out of their minds? I was a plumber, not a heart surgeon! I didn’t have that kind of money! Besides, the rent was only $500 a month.
“You have until the end of the month,” one of the goons croaked.
That was only two weeks! I couldn’t have made that kind of money with such constraints! I’d barely be able to afford food and electricity! Negotiating was out of the question. God knows what would have happened to me if I dared speak up.
“The landlord has given you chance after chance to pay up. But you’ve never followed through. He’s let it slide for three months. You haven’t paid shit in that time frame. Do you realize how much he has to pay for his own apartment? If you fail to pay at that time, there will be consequences…” He makes a capiche gesture.
I nodded. The moment I complied, they released me, disappearing into the smog.
—
I stood outside a graffiti covered subway station, pacing around, hands in my pockets. My fists constricted as I pounded a nearby wall. There’s no way I would have been able to make that kind of money! Craps were too unpredictable, arcade machines were always rigged, and roulette was too high in stakes. Seeing red, I screamed and kicked a wall as hard as I could. My foot throbbed and once I was done with my fit, I broke down sobbing. The sidewalk darkened with my tears. I pressed my head against it, clawing at it until my fingernails turned crimson.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Wiping the tears away, I glanced over my shoulder. A card was lying on the floor. Its borders were covered in green dollar symbols. The rest of the card was a silver color shiny enough to reflect my face in it. Written in gold letters were the following:
ACES HIGH CASINO
WIN ONE ROUND OF BLACKJACK
AND EARN FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS!
NO MONETARY WAGER NEEDED
TABLE 777
My eyes lit up. All I had to do was win one game of blackjack, and I’d be rich? Dimples formed on my cheeks and I pumped my fist. I nearly clicked my heels in joy, but decided against it. I’d already caused enough of a scene already, and I wanted to make sure nobody knew my secret. When I flipped it around, it had an address also written in golden letters.
---
Despite the address being in an unknown area, I still managed to pull it up on my phone’s map and arrived without any struggle. The casino itself was a pigsty, to say the least. Smokers polluted the air in the prison gray interior. Slot machines with broken lights clicked and whirred while cheap dice clattered against tables with peeling felt. Meanwhile, the concrete floor was covered in colonies of roaches while neglected beer bottles sat against the rungs of several tables. The only thing that was kept well was the bar and a room draped with navy blue curtains with golden sashes. Emblazoned above the doorway was the number 777.
This was the first time I had entered a casino smiling. For once, I thought that this was my lucky night.
When I pushed the curtains away, they revealed a room with ornate black wallpaper, an assortment of oak desks and other furniture. The walls were covered in fine Baroque paintings. On the floor was a single blue carpet covered in opulent tapestry. I followed the back wall to a single dealer table coated in green felt. Two seats were present with one patron taking the seat on the left. He was shaking with what I assumed was excitement.
Behind him was the dealer, a trim man with long blond hair and a top hat over his nose and eyes. He wore a dapper tuxedo free of blemishes that shimmered in the light of a single hanging glass lamp. His skin was pure and free of moles, glistening with slight amounts of glitter.
“Why, hello there…” The man spoke in a voice slicker than the gel in his hair. “Are you here to win big?” Unlike the loan sharks, his teeth were cleaner than a freshly washed plate.
“Yup. Deal me in.” I said, straightening my back, shuffling into the last seat. The other player had his jaw locked together. His eyes were drooping and bloodshot. Sweat pooled around his brow like glass beads. Just like him, I always felt nervous about losing, so their reaction was understandable.
“You know the rules of blackjack. I deal out cards. You can say ‘hit me’ if you want more cards. Get closest to twenty one without going over. Dealer only draws two cards. And you can also surrender your cards for half your bet. When you don’t want any more cards, say the word ‘stand.’” The dealer said, shuffling the cards through his hands and manipulating them like a sculptor with a ceramic pot.
I double blinked. Wager? “What do I bet with?”
The mysterious man just focused on passing out his cards. First, he brought out two cards for himself and dealt two more to each player. Instantly, he flipped over his cards. A jack and a king. Twenty.
I clutched the velvet backed cards, seeing what I was dealt.
A ten and a seven of hearts. I forced my face into a neutral smile. My stomach twisted. There was no way I could get twenty one that easily. “Surrender,” I said, pushing my cards to the dealer. All he did was reshuffle the cards and toss me two more. They didn’t even bother looking back up at me during the process.
The other player started clutching his stomach. My smile vanished. I carefully looked over the left guy’s cards. A seven and a two of clubs.
“Hit me…” the guy on the left choked out. An ace of spades. A total of ten. Sweat trickled down his head like a shower in April. His eyes welled up with tears while foam developed around his mouth. I raised a brow, wondering what his deal was.
I knew the stakes of gambling, but my sixth sense kept telling me something was just not right. No. That couldn’t be true. Even if there was some kind of string attached or fine print I didn’t read, I couldn’t risk giving up that money. Besides, this might have been my only chance to obtain such a vast award without much risk.
“Hit me…” The man wheezed. A five of hearts. His teeth chattered.
While I waited for my turn, I stood up and walked around the room, getting a closer look at all the ornate gadgets and such. My eyes focused on a painting on the leftmost wall. It resembled a man in rich military regalia. But something made my hair stand on end. Their upturned white mustache looked damp, and their face sagged like they were crying. Linear, stick-like shadows were cast on the sleeves. Edging forward, they came into focus.
Hands. I followed their forms outward, which extended into oily, dripping arms.
“Husssssssssh…” A faint noise echoed from somewhere in the room.
“What?” I mouthed, turning an ear to the source.
“Husssssssssh…” It came from the painting. I backed away, hands out at my sides. Was someone dragged in that painting?
“Where are you going? You forgot to pay up!” The dealer yelled back, hands slamming on the table and pulling out a sack of navy blue poker chips.
I double took. “I thought the card said there was no monetary wager needed?”
“There isn’t.”
Then, I looked at the ground. There was a second rug on the ground. The tapestry matched, but its patterns didn’t match with the other rug. It was off center from the rest of the decorations, like someone didn’t even bother setting it up properly. Taking a closer look, I could hear faint whispers coming from it, too. When I looked back up, the guy on the left was gone. I rushed over, checking his cards. A total of twenty five.
Swallowing saliva, I stood in confusion, wondering what to do next. I scraped my fingernails against my palms. I needed that money. If I didn’t get it, I’d lose my wife and my apartment. And what about the loan sharks? Only God knew what would happen to me if I didn’t pay up. What was I going to do? What would happen if I lost? Would I turn into another object just like the other guy? Or would I be in for a worse fate?
“That’s because there isn’t a MONETARY wager. I’m still taking half of what you owe.”
A sharp pain punched my left side. My left side felt heavier than before, like my veins were replaced with tungsten. I grabbed my fingers around my chest. The area around the pain almost felt solid like a tumor. Brushing around the area, I could make out a cylindrical mass. I tried to inspect it some more, but the pain overwhelmed me, and I crumpled to the ground.
I crouched down on all fours, trying to get back to my seat, but the pain froze me in place. Reaching out a hand, I called out for help. Nothing.
Slithering away, I pulled back the curtains to the entrance of the casino. I spat on the ground from the bludgeoning pain.
“Don’t feel out of luck. You can still surrender once more and you still have two chances left!” The dealer smiled, adjusting his hat. It was only a glimpse, but I caught a look at his upper face. His eyes were on his hat and his forehead was blank. The dealer looked like they were plucked straight out of an Alice in Wonderland book. What or who was this dealer?
“Think long and hard about this. I saw you arguing with your wife. And those ruffians nearly killed you.”
I clambered back to my seat. I still didn’t know what that dealer did to me. Something in me forced me to get back up and keep playing. More questions ate at me the longer I played. How did he know that information?
Then, I remembered feeling a tap back at Grand Central Station. And the card that brought me here. He couldn’t have been human. Was he some kind of demon? I didn’t bother asking. There wasn’t any way he would spill the beans about his nature.
After what seemed like hours, I managed to writhe back into my seat, slumping over the table like I’d just had the worst hangover.
“Ready to try again?” The charming man said, resting his chin on his interlocked hands.
Reluctantly, I gave him a thumbs up. He took back the cards and began manipulating the split deck once more. I analyzed every move he made. None of the cards were tricked. He wasn’t second dealing and didn’t have any aces up his sleeve. Never revealed anything under the table, either. The only thing that brought me reassurance was that he was honest. Still, keeping an eye out was critical.
The dealer revealed his cards. Two tens again. One of spades, one of hearts. His face was harder than diamond and glowed like one, too. Not a pleasing glow, but one that would hex anyone that dared gaze at it for too long.
I looked at my cards. An ace and a seven. Eighteen. Gripping my lower abdomen, I stayed crumpled in agony. The odds of getting a blackjack were slim and the stabbing pain skewed my thoughts.
“Surrender…” I wheezed. The words slipped out of my mouth like the dying breath of a wounded soldier. The dealer smiled, holding a pile of blue poker chips around him. He waved his hand over the mound and made an inaudible chant. Then, they vanished.
I held my hands over my face, bracing myself. Suddenly, the pain doubled, shifting to my right like a mudslide down a hill. Now I knew everything the previous player was going through.
I vomited out something hard and blue. A poker chip. Suddenly, my guts turned and another seven spilled out. My esophagus wound itself into knots more contorted than cobwebs. “I…forfeit!”
The man started to smile. “Without these?” With a thud, the hat faced dealer pulled out a jar filled with a kidney and a piece of liver. They still were oozing with blood that plumed and fit their containers. I remembered how the dealer said that there was no monetary wager. He never said there wasn’t a wager at all. My wager…was my organs.
“You want them back? Win them.” He set them back on the ground.
Now there was no choice. My fate was sealed if I tried to leave. I started to shed tears. If I didn’t get these organs back and fast, I was done for. Even if someone saw me passed out on the floor, finding donors for organs wasn’t guaranteed. And even then, I’d be put further in debt. Nothing would be solved. Then again, was trying to beat this guy even worth it? No. The reward was too great. Taking a few deep breaths, I sat back down. Reluctantly, I asked that he proceed.
The dealer drew out cards just like before. He took the cards and gave them a good shuffle. Plucking two cards out of the stack, he revealed them. A king and a nine. Another poker chip tumbled out my throat. I spat it out in a red and blue plastic heap. Not paying attention to the mess I made, he handed me two cards. A jack and a two. Twelve.
“Hit…me.” An ace. Aces could count as one or eleven depending on what other cards were drawn. I still had a fighting chance.
“Hit me.” A five.
His dead stare tore at my soul. I scratched against the felt, the wounds in my fingers reopening. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him frowning. “Are you going to play, or do you want all that money to go to waste?”
I gritted my teeth. “Shut up…Hit me…” Swallowing saliva, I watched the dealer play out my last card. A queen.
“You lose.” The dealer said coldly, grabbing a pile of poker chips and holding them close. He waved his hand over the mound and made another incantation. Then, they vanished once more. Everywhere at once, burning pain sears my skin, making me blackout.
---
When I wake up and feel my arms, they are covered in something hard, blue and plastic. My clothes were gone. I examined my extremities and my torso.
My skin was missing and replaced with poker chips. They were shaped to fit every part of my body. Cracks filled with blood gushed out with each slight movement I made. Horrified, I spilled my guts. More poker chips slid out my throat. Piles of skin laid clumped on the side of the table in hideous pink and blood red sheets.
“I think you know what’s at stake now. One try left. Better make it count. You want to end up in an object for an eternity?” He taunted.
The rigidity of my plastic coated skin made each movement expose more of the cracks, searing my muscles. I groaned as I raised myself up. Crimson liquid dampened the table. I pounded at the table. This was it. I either walked out with my money and saved my marriage and tied up all those knots. Or I lost and suffered a fate worse than death. Giving up was not an option. I gave the mysterious man a death glare, not even bothered by his resistance.
He plucks out two cards. A nine and a ten. This was my chance.
Then, my cards were revealed. A ten and a two. Fingers rattling, I took a deep breath and let calmness seep into me.
“Hit…Me…” I sputtered. Another two.
Huffing, I opened my mouth to speak again. The dealer just stared into me, tilting his head like a vulture waiting for roadkill. The poker chips rattled again, grinding against each other.
“Hit…” I paused for a moment, recollecting my thoughts. At a value of fourteen, I needed at least a six to beat the dealer. But an eight or higher would result in disaster. Gulping down another chaser of saliva, I spoke. “Hit…me.”
To my chagrin, a five slipped out of the hand. I was now tied. Staring at the pile of skin and my other organs, I closed my eyes and shook in horror. An ace or a two were the only cards I could draw in order to win. I looked down at my cards, sweat dripping on the table. With a quick glance, I gazed at the eyes on the man’s silk hat.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” The man demanded.
I’d begun hyperventilating. His stare grew more intense the longer I waited. His confident smile turned into a frown of irritation. Eyebrows and mouth twisted into a hideous snarl. He rattled his fingers against the dealing table. The cacophony made my ears go numb.
Then, I whispered my answer.
“Hit…me…”
The man darted up, smiling back in anticipation. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.
“HIT ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Then, the last card was revealed:
A two.
I’d won!
My mouth dropped. The sheets of skin unfurled themselves and flattened over me. Two organ jars spilled over, their contents rising in a beam of white and torpedoing back into my body. Immediately, I yelped at the top of my lungs, skipping my heels and doing a jig. I regained my strength, instantly looking around for traces of my prize. For several minutes, I wasn’t able to uncover anything. Staring directly at the dealer’s face, I asked him to reveal my prize.
“I don’t have it with me.” He said, blankly.
Not listening, I scrutinized every inch of the room, looking behind his station, checking under the table, everything.
I searched everywhere for my prize, my happiness dissipating. With each step I took, my smile faded even further, twisting into a frown. My nose crinkled. “Where is the fifty million?” I demanded, overturning the table, ripping off the ornate paintings and yanking the tasseled rugs off the floor. “You promised me fifty million dollars if I beat you! Do you realize what’s gonna happen to me if I don’t get that money, you charlatan?!”
The strange man just stood there, not even acknowledging my pleas.
“YOU PROMISED ME MONEY! You’re a thief!” I roared, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I only did this for my wife, to save my marriage! I almost gave up my life trying to help my family out! How can you take that away from me?!”
The demon stuck his hands behind his back and shook his head. He rolled his eyes back in thought. Something was up with him. “You aren’t like the other gamblers.” He said.
“Other gamblers?” I said, stepping back.
“They all wanted the money for worthless things. A mansion with fountains and a view, hookers, a trip to Tahiti…” He paced around me. His face was rather relaxed and calm. Never once did he lose eye contact with me. “But you had so much determination to help your wife out that you would risk it all. I admire that. It took me a while to figure out that you were actually a kind hearted person.”
I saw red and tried to punch him. He grabbed my fist, shoving it back.
“Listen to me. I understand your rage. There never was a prize in the first place. It was nothing but a lure to capture those that wasted their lives away. But there is one thing that you don’t understand.”
I saw red and I thrusted my hands back. “You nearly killed me all for nothing?!”
“Yes, but that was before I saw you the way you really were. Listen to my words.”
Slowly, I relaxed my posture, but still remained firm. “Why should I listen to you?”
“I can help you out of your situation.” The man said.
My nostrils flared. “You owe me money you snake!”
“You never needed the money in the first place.”
Taken aback, I retreated. “What do you mean?” My arms relaxed once more.
“You are a plumber, aren’t you? I saw you come home from work, just barely catching a glimpse of your schedule. Forty hours a week for thirty-eight dollars an hour for five days a week. That’s $15200 a week for two weeks. You already have everything you need.”
“But you don’t understand. They need $18000!” I pleaded.
He wouldn’t budge. “Trying to earn this money via dumb risks and chances will not get you anywhere. Look at all the things that you’ve done wrong.”
Tears began to well up. “And I want to change that.” I wiped my eyes. “But what am I supposed to do now?”
“The only way you can earn that money is through grit and spit,” He said, walking around me. “You aren’t going to find solace through good luck alone. You have to work for it. And you already have the tools that some people don’t have. If you give up now, you might as well have lost. Think about it.” With those last words, he raised his hand and snapped it, disappearing without a trace. Slowly, I gathered my things and walked out of the casino, head hanging low.
---
The following day, I sat outside an old woman’s faucet, inspecting how to fix a leak. I wondered what the demon’s words meant to me. Before I stuck the wrench up to a U trap, I remembered my pay. If I worked the same amount of hours as before, I’d only make $15200. But if I pulled off some overtime and worked several extra hours, I might just be able to pay off my debts.
I started staying up much later than before. Not long after, my wife started to become suspicious. Eventually, she confronted me.
“Frank, you’ve been staying up late. Are you going back to the casinos again?” she asked, hands on her hips.
I closed my eyes. Instead of fear, calmness filled my veins and my blood stilled. “Not this time. I’ve been working overtime.”
Her face loosened up for just a moment before hardening back up. I held my hands up and motioned my palms downward. “Listen, I have been horrible lately. All my gambling did was drown us in deeper debt.”
Her expression began to soften up again, her frown vanishing.
“I want to change things. We used to work so well together, doing everything to help each other. Instead of fighting against each other, it’s time we made peace. And we bring us out of our debt, together.” I held out my hand for her to shake it. She kept her arm pulled back and folded like the pincer of a mantis. Inch by inch, she extended it and took it.
The following day, my wife convinced me to go to therapy to get out of my addiction, which I gladly obliged. Simultaneously, she decided to start up another job working as an electrician. Day by day passed and we pooled all our resources as one. Before our eyes, bills were paid and debt disappeared faster than eye floaters. Our financial status wasn’t the only thing that changed. Her once crusty mood lightened up and she began to smile more. She began to believe my words and began to respect the changes I made.
And then, we paid off our rent. We got a letter from our landlord, saying that we now were even. The moment that letter came in, we embraced each other. The only question now was, what were we going to do with this extra money?
Not too long ago, we ended up earning enough money to create another 3d project, this time of a Companion Cube. Day after day, we created more projects. Although we weren’t as happy as our days back in college, we still could make the best with what we had. In retrospect, the hat-faced man put up a good fight, but I managed to come out of a casino with more than I came in with. It wasn’t exactly money, but it wasn’t worthless, either.
submitted by TheBlackCycloneOrder to WeAreLegion [link] [comments]
Sidewalks laid cracked everywhere while condemned buildings sat sadly against their crooked foundations. Crooked lampposts would hang only by electrical wires. Graffiti marked every street corner in bland art that existed without rhyme or reason. Homeless people could be found on every street corner, a constant reminder of what would happen if my wife and I failed to keep up with our payments.
However, I managed to make somewhat decent money as a plumber. But even then, it sometimes wasn’t enough to deal with loan sharks, the hefty utility bills, food prices, and gas money. I was willing to do anything to get us out.
And that is where I encountered gambling. I was willing to take the risks. I’d take any chance to obtain a reward, even just a small one. It started out with just a handful of poker games. Then I moved on to scratch tickets and slot machines. All I needed was enough to get by. Unfortunately, obtaining a payday from the casinos was impossible. I started growing desperate, which only led to more debt. The whole cycle sucked me down like Odysseus’ ship in Charybdis’ maw. And just like that, my relationship with my wife began to tear us apart.
My wife and I were once so close together. Before we married, there would be days where we’d work together at wood shops, creating 3D prints of various sci-fi characters and video games. Other times we’d study the components of circuits and use them to create elaborate lighting displays whenever Christmas arrived. Our wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of our lives. Instead of relying on the help of others back like we did in college, we relied on ourselves.
But my actions tore all that apart. I didn’t know what else to do, either.
—
A few nights ago, I arrived at my shitty apartment, having completed a ten hour shift fixing the drains of several upper class folks. I rested my hand on the knob, expecting the worst from my wife. Sighing, I pushed the door. The moment I did, she was already in the front hall. Her eyes were scrunched and she was holding a bank statement, smacking it for emphasis.
“Care for an explanation?” She demanded.
I rubbed my temples, removing my scum covered overalls and plopping them right into the nearest laundry hamper. We locked eyes. Breaking eye contact with her would only ignite her anger further. She was holding another piece of evidence of my failures. My failure to strike it rich. All I could do was stand there sheepishly, tail tucked behind me, and wait to get ripped a new one. No words could come out of my mouth.
She marched up to me, holding it in my face. “Frank, you wasted three-thousand dollars at the casino AGAIN?!” my wife bellowed.
I set my tool box down and washed the pipe gunk from my hands, looking down just for a bit.
“Turn around and look me in the eyes.”
Resting a hand on my eyes, I glanced over at her petite frame. Then, I began to speak. “We can live comfortably if you just give-“
“Enough of the excuses! We nearly lost our apartment twice by you betting on slots, you wasted our heating money on roulette, and now this!”
I held up my hands reassuringly. “Look, just let me figure this out! I’ll think of some way to get the money!”
“You’d better. Otherwise we’re getting a divorce. Got it?”
Without another word, I put on a casual outfit, exiting for some fresh air. Shutting the door behind me, I gazed back at the unpolished apartment number on the frame. Wincing, I clenched a fist and descended the rickety stairs. Eventually, my boots hit the cracked pavement, and I headed off.
---
I had only made it a few blocks from my apartment, when I noticed shadows lurking in one of the alleyways. Picking up my stride, I try to evade the figures. They drew closer and closer. My stride changed into a sprint. Another alleyway comes into my sights. I make a break for it, hoping for an opportunity to escape. Only a dead end greets me. Before long, the figures cornered me. The light from a street lamp illuminated two shady faces. Loan sharks. Before I could react, the duo held me up by my throat.
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” I strained, feebly kicking back one of the thugs. He jammed a fist right under my rib cage. My lips pursed as I lost my breath. The other grabbed me by the chin, grinning like a maniac and revealing his tobacco rotted jaw. I gulped.
“Frank, calm down. Take it easy,” every word he said ground my inner ears. Brown saliva sprayed on my cheeks. “We just want to have a little talk…” I didn’t have the courage to speak up. All I could do was let them tell me everything.
“Your landlord is getting rather impatient with your payments. We just came to send a little message. He has some demands.” The other guy snarled.
I tugged on my collar. “What…demands?”
“The landlord wants you to cough up $18,000 for your next payment!”
My hands grew clammy. Were they out of their minds? I was a plumber, not a heart surgeon! I didn’t have that kind of money! Besides, the rent was only $500 a month.
“You have until the end of the month,” one of the goons croaked.
That was only two weeks! I couldn’t have made that kind of money with such constraints! I’d barely be able to afford food and electricity! Negotiating was out of the question. God knows what would have happened to me if I dared speak up.
“The landlord has given you chance after chance to pay up. But you’ve never followed through. He’s let it slide for three months. You haven’t paid shit in that time frame. Do you realize how much he has to pay for his own apartment? If you fail to pay at that time, there will be consequences…” He makes a capiche gesture.
I nodded. The moment I complied, they released me, disappearing into the smog.
—
I stood outside a graffiti covered subway station, pacing around, hands in my pockets. My fists constricted as I pounded a nearby wall. There’s no way I would have been able to make that kind of money! Craps were too unpredictable, arcade machines were always rigged, and roulette was too high in stakes. Seeing red, I screamed and kicked a wall as hard as I could. My foot throbbed and once I was done with my fit, I broke down sobbing. The sidewalk darkened with my tears. I pressed my head against it, clawing at it until my fingernails turned crimson.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Wiping the tears away, I glanced over my shoulder. A card was lying on the floor. Its borders were covered in green dollar symbols. The rest of the card was a silver color shiny enough to reflect my face in it. Written in gold letters were the following:
ACES HIGH CASINO
WIN ONE ROUND OF BLACKJACK
AND EARN FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS!
NO MONETARY WAGER NEEDED
TABLE 777
My eyes lit up. All I had to do was win one game of blackjack, and I’d be rich? Dimples formed on my cheeks and I pumped my fist. I nearly clicked my heels in joy, but decided against it. I’d already caused enough of a scene already, and I wanted to make sure nobody knew my secret. When I flipped it around, it had an address also written in golden letters.
---
Despite the address being in an unknown area, I still managed to pull it up on my phone’s map and arrived without any struggle. The casino itself was a pigsty, to say the least. Smokers polluted the air in the prison gray interior. Slot machines with broken lights clicked and whirred while cheap dice clattered against tables with peeling felt. Meanwhile, the concrete floor was covered in colonies of roaches while neglected beer bottles sat against the rungs of several tables. The only thing that was kept well was the bar and a room draped with navy blue curtains with golden sashes. Emblazoned above the doorway was the number 777.
This was the first time I had entered a casino smiling. For once, I thought that this was my lucky night.
When I pushed the curtains away, they revealed a room with ornate black wallpaper, an assortment of oak desks and other furniture. The walls were covered in fine Baroque paintings. On the floor was a single blue carpet covered in opulent tapestry. I followed the back wall to a single dealer table coated in green felt. Two seats were present with one patron taking the seat on the left. He was shaking with what I assumed was excitement.
Behind him was the dealer, a trim man with long blond hair and a top hat over his nose and eyes. He wore a dapper tuxedo free of blemishes that shimmered in the light of a single hanging glass lamp. His skin was pure and free of moles, glistening with slight amounts of glitter.
“Why, hello there…” The man spoke in a voice slicker than the gel in his hair. “Are you here to win big?” Unlike the loan sharks, his teeth were cleaner than a freshly washed plate.
“Yup. Deal me in.” I said, straightening my back, shuffling into the last seat. The other player had his jaw locked together. His eyes were drooping and bloodshot. Sweat pooled around his brow like glass beads. Just like him, I always felt nervous about losing, so their reaction was understandable.
“You know the rules of blackjack. I deal out cards. You can say ‘hit me’ if you want more cards. Get closest to twenty one without going over. Dealer only draws two cards. And you can also surrender your cards for half your bet. When you don’t want any more cards, say the word ‘stand.’” The dealer said, shuffling the cards through his hands and manipulating them like a sculptor with a ceramic pot.
I double blinked. Wager? “What do I bet with?”
The mysterious man just focused on passing out his cards. First, he brought out two cards for himself and dealt two more to each player. Instantly, he flipped over his cards. A jack and a king. Twenty.
I clutched the velvet backed cards, seeing what I was dealt.
A ten and a seven of hearts. I forced my face into a neutral smile. My stomach twisted. There was no way I could get twenty one that easily. “Surrender,” I said, pushing my cards to the dealer. All he did was reshuffle the cards and toss me two more. They didn’t even bother looking back up at me during the process.
The other player started clutching his stomach. My smile vanished. I carefully looked over the left guy’s cards. A seven and a two of clubs.
“Hit me…” the guy on the left choked out. An ace of spades. A total of ten. Sweat trickled down his head like a shower in April. His eyes welled up with tears while foam developed around his mouth. I raised a brow, wondering what his deal was.
I knew the stakes of gambling, but my sixth sense kept telling me something was just not right. No. That couldn’t be true. Even if there was some kind of string attached or fine print I didn’t read, I couldn’t risk giving up that money. Besides, this might have been my only chance to obtain such a vast award without much risk.
“Hit me…” The man wheezed. A five of hearts. His teeth chattered.
While I waited for my turn, I stood up and walked around the room, getting a closer look at all the ornate gadgets and such. My eyes focused on a painting on the leftmost wall. It resembled a man in rich military regalia. But something made my hair stand on end. Their upturned white mustache looked damp, and their face sagged like they were crying. Linear, stick-like shadows were cast on the sleeves. Edging forward, they came into focus.
Hands. I followed their forms outward, which extended into oily, dripping arms.
“Husssssssssh…” A faint noise echoed from somewhere in the room.
“What?” I mouthed, turning an ear to the source.
“Husssssssssh…” It came from the painting. I backed away, hands out at my sides. Was someone dragged in that painting?
“Where are you going? You forgot to pay up!” The dealer yelled back, hands slamming on the table and pulling out a sack of navy blue poker chips.
I double took. “I thought the card said there was no monetary wager needed?”
“There isn’t.”
Then, I looked at the ground. There was a second rug on the ground. The tapestry matched, but its patterns didn’t match with the other rug. It was off center from the rest of the decorations, like someone didn’t even bother setting it up properly. Taking a closer look, I could hear faint whispers coming from it, too. When I looked back up, the guy on the left was gone. I rushed over, checking his cards. A total of twenty five.
Swallowing saliva, I stood in confusion, wondering what to do next. I scraped my fingernails against my palms. I needed that money. If I didn’t get it, I’d lose my wife and my apartment. And what about the loan sharks? Only God knew what would happen to me if I didn’t pay up. What was I going to do? What would happen if I lost? Would I turn into another object just like the other guy? Or would I be in for a worse fate?
“That’s because there isn’t a MONETARY wager. I’m still taking half of what you owe.”
A sharp pain punched my left side. My left side felt heavier than before, like my veins were replaced with tungsten. I grabbed my fingers around my chest. The area around the pain almost felt solid like a tumor. Brushing around the area, I could make out a cylindrical mass. I tried to inspect it some more, but the pain overwhelmed me, and I crumpled to the ground.
I crouched down on all fours, trying to get back to my seat, but the pain froze me in place. Reaching out a hand, I called out for help. Nothing.
Slithering away, I pulled back the curtains to the entrance of the casino. I spat on the ground from the bludgeoning pain.
“Don’t feel out of luck. You can still surrender once more and you still have two chances left!” The dealer smiled, adjusting his hat. It was only a glimpse, but I caught a look at his upper face. His eyes were on his hat and his forehead was blank. The dealer looked like they were plucked straight out of an Alice in Wonderland book. What or who was this dealer?
“Think long and hard about this. I saw you arguing with your wife. And those ruffians nearly killed you.”
I clambered back to my seat. I still didn’t know what that dealer did to me. Something in me forced me to get back up and keep playing. More questions ate at me the longer I played. How did he know that information?
Then, I remembered feeling a tap back at Grand Central Station. And the card that brought me here. He couldn’t have been human. Was he some kind of demon? I didn’t bother asking. There wasn’t any way he would spill the beans about his nature.
After what seemed like hours, I managed to writhe back into my seat, slumping over the table like I’d just had the worst hangover.
“Ready to try again?” The charming man said, resting his chin on his interlocked hands.
Reluctantly, I gave him a thumbs up. He took back the cards and began manipulating the split deck once more. I analyzed every move he made. None of the cards were tricked. He wasn’t second dealing and didn’t have any aces up his sleeve. Never revealed anything under the table, either. The only thing that brought me reassurance was that he was honest. Still, keeping an eye out was critical.
The dealer revealed his cards. Two tens again. One of spades, one of hearts. His face was harder than diamond and glowed like one, too. Not a pleasing glow, but one that would hex anyone that dared gaze at it for too long.
I looked at my cards. An ace and a seven. Eighteen. Gripping my lower abdomen, I stayed crumpled in agony. The odds of getting a blackjack were slim and the stabbing pain skewed my thoughts.
“Surrender…” I wheezed. The words slipped out of my mouth like the dying breath of a wounded soldier. The dealer smiled, holding a pile of blue poker chips around him. He waved his hand over the mound and made an inaudible chant. Then, they vanished.
I held my hands over my face, bracing myself. Suddenly, the pain doubled, shifting to my right like a mudslide down a hill. Now I knew everything the previous player was going through.
I vomited out something hard and blue. A poker chip. Suddenly, my guts turned and another seven spilled out. My esophagus wound itself into knots more contorted than cobwebs. “I…forfeit!”
The man started to smile. “Without these?” With a thud, the hat faced dealer pulled out a jar filled with a kidney and a piece of liver. They still were oozing with blood that plumed and fit their containers. I remembered how the dealer said that there was no monetary wager. He never said there wasn’t a wager at all. My wager…was my organs.
“You want them back? Win them.” He set them back on the ground.
Now there was no choice. My fate was sealed if I tried to leave. I started to shed tears. If I didn’t get these organs back and fast, I was done for. Even if someone saw me passed out on the floor, finding donors for organs wasn’t guaranteed. And even then, I’d be put further in debt. Nothing would be solved. Then again, was trying to beat this guy even worth it? No. The reward was too great. Taking a few deep breaths, I sat back down. Reluctantly, I asked that he proceed.
The dealer drew out cards just like before. He took the cards and gave them a good shuffle. Plucking two cards out of the stack, he revealed them. A king and a nine. Another poker chip tumbled out my throat. I spat it out in a red and blue plastic heap. Not paying attention to the mess I made, he handed me two cards. A jack and a two. Twelve.
“Hit…me.” An ace. Aces could count as one or eleven depending on what other cards were drawn. I still had a fighting chance.
“Hit me.” A five.
His dead stare tore at my soul. I scratched against the felt, the wounds in my fingers reopening. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him frowning. “Are you going to play, or do you want all that money to go to waste?”
I gritted my teeth. “Shut up…Hit me…” Swallowing saliva, I watched the dealer play out my last card. A queen.
“You lose.” The dealer said coldly, grabbing a pile of poker chips and holding them close. He waved his hand over the mound and made another incantation. Then, they vanished once more. Everywhere at once, burning pain sears my skin, making me blackout.
---
When I wake up and feel my arms, they are covered in something hard, blue and plastic. My clothes were gone. I examined my extremities and my torso.
My skin was missing and replaced with poker chips. They were shaped to fit every part of my body. Cracks filled with blood gushed out with each slight movement I made. Horrified, I spilled my guts. More poker chips slid out my throat. Piles of skin laid clumped on the side of the table in hideous pink and blood red sheets.
“I think you know what’s at stake now. One try left. Better make it count. You want to end up in an object for an eternity?” He taunted.
The rigidity of my plastic coated skin made each movement expose more of the cracks, searing my muscles. I groaned as I raised myself up. Crimson liquid dampened the table. I pounded at the table. This was it. I either walked out with my money and saved my marriage and tied up all those knots. Or I lost and suffered a fate worse than death. Giving up was not an option. I gave the mysterious man a death glare, not even bothered by his resistance.
He plucks out two cards. A nine and a ten. This was my chance.
Then, my cards were revealed. A ten and a two. Fingers rattling, I took a deep breath and let calmness seep into me.
“Hit…Me…” I sputtered. Another two.
Huffing, I opened my mouth to speak again. The dealer just stared into me, tilting his head like a vulture waiting for roadkill. The poker chips rattled again, grinding against each other.
“Hit…” I paused for a moment, recollecting my thoughts. At a value of fourteen, I needed at least a six to beat the dealer. But an eight or higher would result in disaster. Gulping down another chaser of saliva, I spoke. “Hit…me.”
To my chagrin, a five slipped out of the hand. I was now tied. Staring at the pile of skin and my other organs, I closed my eyes and shook in horror. An ace or a two were the only cards I could draw in order to win. I looked down at my cards, sweat dripping on the table. With a quick glance, I gazed at the eyes on the man’s silk hat.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” The man demanded.
I’d begun hyperventilating. His stare grew more intense the longer I waited. His confident smile turned into a frown of irritation. Eyebrows and mouth twisted into a hideous snarl. He rattled his fingers against the dealing table. The cacophony made my ears go numb.
Then, I whispered my answer.
“Hit…me…”
The man darted up, smiling back in anticipation. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.
“HIT ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Then, the last card was revealed:
A two.
I’d won!
My mouth dropped. The sheets of skin unfurled themselves and flattened over me. Two organ jars spilled over, their contents rising in a beam of white and torpedoing back into my body. Immediately, I yelped at the top of my lungs, skipping my heels and doing a jig. I regained my strength, instantly looking around for traces of my prize. For several minutes, I wasn’t able to uncover anything. Staring directly at the dealer’s face, I asked him to reveal my prize.
“I don’t have it with me.” He said, blankly.
Not listening, I scrutinized every inch of the room, looking behind his station, checking under the table, everything.
I searched everywhere for my prize, my happiness dissipating. With each step I took, my smile faded even further, twisting into a frown. My nose crinkled. “Where is the fifty million?” I demanded, overturning the table, ripping off the ornate paintings and yanking the tasseled rugs off the floor. “You promised me fifty million dollars if I beat you! Do you realize what’s gonna happen to me if I don’t get that money, you charlatan?!”
The strange man just stood there, not even acknowledging my pleas.
“YOU PROMISED ME MONEY! You’re a thief!” I roared, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I only did this for my wife, to save my marriage! I almost gave up my life trying to help my family out! How can you take that away from me?!”
The demon stuck his hands behind his back and shook his head. He rolled his eyes back in thought. Something was up with him. “You aren’t like the other gamblers.” He said.
“Other gamblers?” I said, stepping back.
“They all wanted the money for worthless things. A mansion with fountains and a view, hookers, a trip to Tahiti…” He paced around me. His face was rather relaxed and calm. Never once did he lose eye contact with me. “But you had so much determination to help your wife out that you would risk it all. I admire that. It took me a while to figure out that you were actually a kind hearted person.”
I saw red and tried to punch him. He grabbed my fist, shoving it back.
“Listen to me. I understand your rage. There never was a prize in the first place. It was nothing but a lure to capture those that wasted their lives away. But there is one thing that you don’t understand.”
I saw red and I thrusted my hands back. “You nearly killed me all for nothing?!”
“Yes, but that was before I saw you the way you really were. Listen to my words.”
Slowly, I relaxed my posture, but still remained firm. “Why should I listen to you?”
“I can help you out of your situation.” The man said.
My nostrils flared. “You owe me money you snake!”
“You never needed the money in the first place.”
Taken aback, I retreated. “What do you mean?” My arms relaxed once more.
“You are a plumber, aren’t you? I saw you come home from work, just barely catching a glimpse of your schedule. Forty hours a week for thirty-eight dollars an hour for five days a week. That’s $15200 a week for two weeks. You already have everything you need.”
“But you don’t understand. They need $18000!” I pleaded.
He wouldn’t budge. “Trying to earn this money via dumb risks and chances will not get you anywhere. Look at all the things that you’ve done wrong.”
Tears began to well up. “And I want to change that.” I wiped my eyes. “But what am I supposed to do now?”
“The only way you can earn that money is through grit and spit,” He said, walking around me. “You aren’t going to find solace through good luck alone. You have to work for it. And you already have the tools that some people don’t have. If you give up now, you might as well have lost. Think about it.” With those last words, he raised his hand and snapped it, disappearing without a trace. Slowly, I gathered my things and walked out of the casino, head hanging low.
---
The following day, I sat outside an old woman’s faucet, inspecting how to fix a leak. I wondered what the demon’s words meant to me. Before I stuck the wrench up to a U trap, I remembered my pay. If I worked the same amount of hours as before, I’d only make $15200. But if I pulled off some overtime and worked several extra hours, I might just be able to pay off my debts.
I started staying up much later than before. Not long after, my wife started to become suspicious. Eventually, she confronted me.
“Frank, you’ve been staying up late. Are you going back to the casinos again?” she asked, hands on her hips.
I closed my eyes. Instead of fear, calmness filled my veins and my blood stilled. “Not this time. I’ve been working overtime.”
Her face loosened up for just a moment before hardening back up. I held my hands up and motioned my palms downward. “Listen, I have been horrible lately. All my gambling did was drown us in deeper debt.”
Her expression began to soften up again, her frown vanishing.
“I want to change things. We used to work so well together, doing everything to help each other. Instead of fighting against each other, it’s time we made peace. And we bring us out of our debt, together.” I held out my hand for her to shake it. She kept her arm pulled back and folded like the pincer of a mantis. Inch by inch, she extended it and took it.
The following day, my wife convinced me to go to therapy to get out of my addiction, which I gladly obliged. Simultaneously, she decided to start up another job working as an electrician. Day by day passed and we pooled all our resources as one. Before our eyes, bills were paid and debt disappeared faster than eye floaters. Our financial status wasn’t the only thing that changed. Her once crusty mood lightened up and she began to smile more. She began to believe my words and began to respect the changes I made.
And then, we paid off our rent. We got a letter from our landlord, saying that we now were even. The moment that letter came in, we embraced each other. The only question now was, what were we going to do with this extra money?
Not too long ago, we ended up earning enough money to create another 3d project, this time of a Companion Cube. Day after day, we created more projects. Although we weren’t as happy as our days back in college, we still could make the best with what we had. In retrospect, the hat-faced man put up a good fight, but I managed to come out of a casino with more than I came in with. It wasn’t exactly money, but it wasn’t worthless, either.