1724 woodlawn drive baltimore md

Spina Bifida

2012.06.28 21:55 Spina Bifida

A subreddit dedicated to providing resourceful knowledge and tools, while providing genuine advice and education for those affected with the most common birth defect.
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2023.05.29 03:34 Dangerous-Ad-5619 What's Wrong with my Mom?

Hello,
My mom is 75 years old, and is getting old. She had arthritis, I believe it's RA. There is a family history of arthritis. My grandmother had it. Maybe it was a combination of OA and RA.
She has been making the rounds to doctors a lot in recent years. Different pain management specialists, acupuncturists, a few cortisol shots. It seems like every time I talk to her she has another medical appointment. either one MD doesn't meet her needs, or something goes awry. I don't know.
She had a cataract and wanted surgery, but the MD said that she wasn't a candidate. she finally found an eye surgeon (one of the best around) who agreed to take her on, but then she had a reaction to the Prednisone drops, so the cancelled her surgery. he told her that she would have to go to a university hospital, like Johns Hopkins, if she wanted further care, because her needs were too complex.
My mom has always had pain and back problems. She was 40 when she had me, so she was and older mom, always had a She always had a bit of a stopped back, but it has worsened with time.
It got real bad after my dad died. She used to say "my stomach is going to fall out" or "my Spine is going to collapse."
There was a season when I was a teen, when she had a lot of funny aches and pains in her spine. She went to doctors, but they would find not actual cause of the pain.
I have rarely seen her exercise. She used to drive to the gym to walk on the treadmill at a whopping 3 mph and lift small barbells. But I have never seen her be physically active.
She also drinks a lot of soymilk. She never drank real milk. Only soy. She is dependent on it. I wonder if her bone breakdown is related to her soy intake. She has always just been so picky about her foods.
I just don't know what to think. I know that, to some degree, it's normal for older adults to develop these kinds of problems. But I think all of these doctor's appointments are her way of attention seeking.
Is my mom a hypochondriac?
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2023.05.29 03:11 EchoJobs Xometry is hiring Senior Software Engineer Remote US [C# Python Ruby JavaScript React Angular TypeScript Java C++ HTML CSS JQuery Git]

Xometry is hiring Senior Software Engineer Remote US [C# Python Ruby JavaScript React Angular TypeScript Java C++ HTML CSS JQuery Git] submitted by EchoJobs to ReactJSJobs [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:28 djenki0119 Baltimore Drivers

Any other Baltimore drivers not getting any comfort trips? I've been eligible for a while now, and I had one the other day, but I haven't gotten any since. If I go to the airport, I can also only join the queue as uberx. I have contacted support about this twice. First time they said it was a backend issue, and that it was fixed, and to try again after an hour. 4 hours later, still nothing. I contacted again, and they refreshed my account, and still nothing. Can only join queue as uberx. Is anybody else having this problem? Or just me? I drive a 2023 Subaru Forester, and I have a 4.9 star rating, so I know I'm eligible.
submitted by djenki0119 to uberdrivers [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 01:08 heems $900USD gaming for my 10yr old son. first time building. near a microcenter.

What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.
I want to build a pc with/for my son for his birthday. He is ready to step up his gaming abilities. Right now he plays minecraft, roblox, fortnite (which barely runs on his laptop) but wants to play some heavier titles and also wants to be able to run steam vr to connect to his meta quest. He's taking coding classes too if that will have an impact and also he is starting to get into video editing.
What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?
$900
When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.
in the next week or two
What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc)
Tower,OS and monitor. we have a decent keyboard and mouse i think.
Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?
If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.
Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?
Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)
What type of network connectivity do you need? (Wired and/or WiFi) If WiFi is needed and you would like to find the fastest match for your wireless router, please list any specifics.
Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?
Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?
Extra info or particulars:
submitted by heems to buildapcforme [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 00:40 RandomAppalachian468 Don't fly over Barron County Ohio.

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County in Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a nearby ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, making a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.
submitted by RandomAppalachian468 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 00:20 Mithrileck87 Lyme diagnosis after a month, doc doesn’t want to continue antibiotic treatment.

Hi everyone I’m looking for some insight on my recent Lyme diagnosis. Here’s how it started, march 28th I got a nasty migraine that left me with a kind of lingering dizzy drunk feeling for the rest of the day. I’ve had migraines before and this one was different. The next day while studying for an exam I began to feel dizzy, almost heavy, and began to have trouble forming my words and thoughts. This persisted though the night and into the next day becoming more of a tension headache sensation. I thought this was odd but pushed though it as I had been studying like a nut and figured I was exhausted. Over the next few days I started developing pressure in my head, ears started ringing, and I had this huge wave of brain fog. Probably some of the scariest days of my life to date. These sensations kept getting worse until I went to a walk in clinic that weekend. They said I had vertigo and fluid in my middle ear. I started Meclizine and some antihistamines but that made no difference. The nausea/dizzy feeling got worse to the point I had to stay home from work all that week just laying on the couch.
A few days later I ended up going to the ER as my head pressure and headaches had gotten unbearable. They did a CT scan, found nothing and sent me on my way saying I probably had an ear infection causing fluid in my middle ear. I finally got in to see my primary doc who agreed I had fluid in my ears and likely a viral infection. Got prescribed some migraine meds and off I went again with a referral to an ENT and a neurologist. In the week following I was still having trouble driving and staying focused but I pushed though and went back to work. I just dragged though work then got home and slept.
By recommendation of a family member I went to go see a naturopathic doctor who within 15 minutes says “yeah you probably have Lyme”. I got a test run that day and what do you know I’m positive IgG 5 bands. At this point I still have all my symptoms, now including eye floaters, sweats and chills, numb feet, and biggest of all my head/neurological issues. I reach out to my doctor on may 16 who agrees I have Lyme but “an unusual case”. He prescribes me Doxy for 2 weeks. He says he’s only prescribing it because of the test and believes my symptoms are unrelated. The first 3 days on doxy I started to feel better but this leveled off and now I’m feeling like I was pre doxy( I have a few days left of the doxy).I relayed this to my doc who said he would not continue the doxy past the initial 2 weeks. I have a meeting with him next week to discuss this but I’m feeling very frustrated that not only did the doc miss the Lyme but now seems to brush off all my symptoms as not related. I have an ENT appt in a few weeks but I’m doubtful this is ENT related and more just a symptom of the Lyme manifesting in my ear.
I’m not going to pretend to know more than a MD but given the simple fact my Lyme test came back with the later stage antibodies it is logical to continue the doxy for 3-4 weeks by ISDA standards. I’m not improving and I’m starting to fall apart here socially, mentally, my relationship…etc. I feel that I’m being left to the whim of doctors with appointments weeks to months away who don’t take me seriously…EVEN THOUGH I HAVE A POSITIVE TEST.
Ide like some advice on how to talk to my doctor about this when I see him next week. Am I missing something here that he sees and I don’t? Also note, I live very close to Lyme CT thus my surprise it took so long for the test.
submitted by Mithrileck87 to Lyme [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 00:08 smitty_werben_jagerm Columbia looks like a great place to move, wondering about commute times to Baltimore?

Apologies if there is a thread for this already, I didn't see it!
My partner and I (M/F 25) are strongly considering Columbia as our new home. While I work from home, my partner will be working in the Mt Vernon area of Baltimore during standard hours (9-5).
We love what Columbia has to offer based on our interests and research of different areas (we looked at Towson and Annapolis as well, but Columbia seems to check all of the boxes) but want to confirm that what we are seeing for commute times is accurate.
From what we have seen in research, it seems like its 30 with no traffic, 45 with normal traffic, and 60 if there's an accident. This would be a door-to-door time frame. We are looking at the mall/town center area for apartments right now (open to suggestions!)
Before I worked from home I used to do a marathon commute that involved driving, taking a train, and then a bus and it took over 2 hours each way. That's not something that I'd wish for my partner (or anyone) to have to endure.
We are fortunate to be able to accommodate tolls into our monthly budget if that is applicable.
Also, if anyone has a recommendation for apt buildings with good parking and possibly a garage that would be awesome. TYIA.
submitted by smitty_werben_jagerm to ColumbiaMD [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 00:05 necronehru 25 [M4F] Baltimore/Anywhere - Looking For The Relationship Of My Dreams

Hello! My Name Is Necro...Im Located In Baltimore MD & Im Looking For The Relationship That's Perfect For Me...I'm 6'1, 145lbs, Black Emo Nerd...iLove Pro Wrestling, Anime, Film, Youtube, Cartoons, Music, Gaming & Many More!!! iAlso Have A Youtube Channel That I'm Very Passionate About lol, iLove Affection, Cuddles, Sleeping On The Phone, Showing My Partner Off & Just Being Down Right Adorable Together lol, iWant Someone Who iCan Share My Interests With, Someone iCan Grow With, Maybe Even Make Content Together, iNeed To B Able To Hold A Conversation That's A Must, I'm Extroverted iLove To B The Life Of The Party, & Yeah....Oh & iLove Food 🤣 If U Would Like To Peep My Personality & Or Looks My Youtube Channel Is Necro Nehru Other Than That....Yeah Just Ready To Settle Down 🖤🥀 Females, Non Binary, MTF No Preference
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2023.05.29 00:02 GarthMarenhgi Anon gets in the car with a stranger

Anon gets in the car with a stranger submitted by GarthMarenhgi to greentext [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 23:30 EchoJobs One is hiring Data Engineer USD 175k-190k US Miami, FL Chicago, IL Baltimore, MD Boise, ID Los Angeles, CA Seattle, WA San Jose, CA Remote Austin, TX New York, NY Boston, MA New Orleans, LA Portland, OR [Streaming Spark Scala Python SQL AWS]

One is hiring Data Engineer USD 175k-190k US Miami, FL Chicago, IL Baltimore, MD Boise, ID Los Angeles, CA Seattle, WA San Jose, CA Remote Austin, TX New York, NY Boston, MA New Orleans, LA Portland, OR [Streaming Spark Scala Python SQL AWS] submitted by EchoJobs to pythonjob [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 23:19 Amyjoto What could be wrong with my dad?

Hello, asking for advice regarding my dad. He’s a 68yo M, cigarette smoker w/ diagnosed COPD. He’s usually very active, still goes to work and he’s awake every day at 4am. He’s had a cough that’s gotten progressively worse for a while (months). He’s also lost a LOT of weight in the past year but still mostly has an appetite.
This morning, he woke up late (5am) and fell twice, then went back to bed. My mom woke me up around 7 because she was worried about him, he was talking but he wasn’t making any sense. I called 911 because after talking to him he was very much NOT himself. A paramedic checked him out, took his vitals (BP110/50, temp 103f, o2 88%) and said that aside from his temp, he seemed alright but because of the fever should be seen by an MD today.
My mom took him to the ER, and six hours later they said everything was unremarkable but he was dehydrated so he got some IV fluids. They took some blood and did a chest X-ray and ekg, all normal. The bloodwork was fine aside from elevated calcium. Chest X-ray showed nothing of concern. He was sent home with a few antibiotics and a pamphlet on coughing and proper hand washing. Additional blood work will be available later this week.
They just got home and he is still very out of it and appears to be limping now. He can’t keep his balance and is stumbling around like he’s had a couple 5ths of Jack. I agree that he is definitely not himself. Mentally he doesn’t appear all there. He’s slow to answer questions and his whole demeanor is off. It’s an alarming change from his normal. I’m worried that he had a stroke or a concussion that they didn’t catch. He’s currently sleeping on the couch wrapped in a blanket. It’s 84 degrees outside and we don’t have the AC on.
People who don’t know him probably don’t recognize that anything is wrong but I’ve never seen my dad like this. I’ve seen him sick, dehydrated, and in pain and this is not any of those things. I’m concerned about leaving him alone because he can’t even stand up without losing his balance, what if he tries to drive somewhere? I plan to stay a day or two to keep an eye on him.
Any advice? If he did have a stroke, is he at risk of having more? Would that have been noticed at the ER? What should we do? Thank you in advance!
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2023.05.28 22:36 mlbVis Baltimore Orioles (3) > Texas Rangers (2) 5/28/2023 @ Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD Danny Coulombe (W) > Cole Ragans (L) Save: Felix Bautista

Baltimore Orioles (3) > Texas Rangers (2) 5/28/2023 @ Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD Danny Coulombe (W) > Cole Ragans (L) Save: Felix Bautista submitted by mlbVis to mlbVis [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 22:25 mlbVis Baltimore Orioles (3) > Texas Rangers (2) 5/28/2023 @ Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD Danny Coulombe (W) > Cole Ragans (L) Save: Felix Bautista

Baltimore Orioles (3) > Texas Rangers (2) 5/28/2023 @ Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD Danny Coulombe (W) > Cole Ragans (L) Save: Felix Bautista submitted by mlbVis to mlbVis [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 22:08 OsGameThreads Post Game Thread: The Orioles defeated the Rangers by a score of 3-2 - Sun, May 28 @ 01:35 PM EDT

Rangers @ Orioles - Sun, May 28

Game Status: Final - Score: 3-2 Orioles

Links & Info

Rangers Batters AB R H RBI BB K LOB AVG OBP SLG
1 Semien - 2B 4 0 1 1 0 1 1 .298 .368 .488
2 Seager - SS 4 0 1 1 0 1 1 .329 .398 .582
3 Lowe, N - 1B 4 0 0 0 0 1 1 .273 .356 .434
4 García, Ad - DH 4 0 1 0 0 1 0 .249 .315 .508
5 Jung - 3B 3 0 1 0 1 1 0 .282 .329 .508
6 Heim - C 4 0 1 0 0 1 2 .278 .333 .451
7 Jankowski - RF 3 0 0 0 0 2 3 .296 .367 .394
8 Grossman - RF 3 1 2 0 0 0 0 .248 .308 .394
1-Thompson, B - LF 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 .163 .236 .286
9 Taveras - CF 3 0 0 0 0 0 2 .309 .371 .434
Totals 32 2 7 2 1 8 10
Rangers
1-Ran for Grossman in the 8th.
BATTING: 2B: Semien (13, Bradish); Heim (10, Cano); Seager (8, Cano). TB: García, Ad; Grossman 2; Heim 2; Jung; Seager 2; Semien 2. RBI: Seager (19); Semien (43). 2-out RBI: Seager. Runners left in scoring position, 2 out: Lowe, N; Jankowski 3. GIDP: Heim. Team RISP: 1-for-7. Team LOB: 4.
FIELDING: DP: (Seager-Semien-Lowe, N).
Orioles Batters AB R H RBI BB K LOB AVG OBP SLG
1 Mullins - CF 3 2 1 0 1 2 1 .266 .353 .484
2 Rutschman - C 4 1 2 0 0 0 1 .273 .397 .433
3 Hays - LF 4 0 3 2 0 0 0 .322 .364 .523
4 Santander - RF 3 0 0 0 1 2 3 .258 .343 .456
McKenna - RF 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 .259 .302 .397
5 Mountcastle - 1B 3 0 0 1 0 1 2 .237 .272 .456
6 Urías, R - 2B 3 0 0 0 0 1 2 .267 .358 .371
a-Frazier - 2B 1 0 0 0 0 0 2 .248 .324 .416
7 Henderson - 3B 3 0 0 0 0 2 0 .200 .333 .372
8 McCann - DH 2 0 0 0 1 0 0 .181 .213 .306
1-Vavra - DH 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 .279 .354 .279
9 Mateo - SS 3 0 1 0 0 0 1 .231 .280 .395
Totals 29 3 7 3 3 8 12
Orioles
a-Flied out for Urías, R in the 8th. 1-Ran for McCann in the 7th.
BATTING: 3B: Hays (2, Bradford). TB: Hays 5; Mateo; Mullins; Rutschman 2. RBI: Hays 2 (22); Mountcastle (38). Runners left in scoring position, 2 out: Santander; Frazier. SF: Mountcastle. GIDP: Urías, R. Team RISP: 2-for-7. Team LOB: 6.
FIELDING: DP: 2 (Mountcastle-Mateo-Bradish; Mateo-Urías, R).
Rangers Pitchers IP H R ER BB K HR P-S ERA
Bradford 5.0 5 2 2 1 5 0 78-56 7.20
Sborz 1.0 0 0 0 0 2 0 11-7 4.76
Ragans (L, 2-2) 1.0 1 1 1 2 1 0 28-14 5.75
Barlow, J 0.2 1 0 0 0 0 0 12-8 5.40
King 0.1 0 0 0 0 0 0 4-2 3.86
Totals 8.0 7 3 3 3 8 0
Orioles Pitchers IP H R ER BB K HR P-S ERA
Bradish 6.2 4 1 1 1 4 0 85-56 3.89
Cano (BS, 1) 1.0 3 1 1 0 1 0 15-10 0.98
Coulombe (W, 2-1) 0.1 0 0 0 0 0 0 3-2 2.37
Bautista, F (S, 13) 1.0 0 0 0 0 3 0 15-10 1.38
Totals 9.0 7 2 2 1 8 0
Game Info
Pitches-strikes: Bradford 78-56; Sborz 11-7; Ragans 28-14; Barlow, J 12-8; King 4-2; Bradish 85-56; Cano 15-10; Coulombe 3-2; Bautista, F 15-10.
Groundouts-flyouts: Bradford 3-4; Sborz 1-0; Ragans 1-0; Barlow, J 0-2; King 0-1; Bradish 5-3; Cano 2-0; Coulombe 0-1; Bautista, F 0-0.
Batters faced: Bradford 20; Sborz 3; Ragans 6; Barlow, J 3; King 1; Bradish 23; Cano 6; Coulombe 1; Bautista, F 3.
Inherited runners-scored: Barlow, J 2-1; King 2-0; Cano 1-0; Coulombe 1-0.
Umpires: HP: Mark Carlson. 1B: Tripp Gibson. 2B: Jordan Baker. 3B: Brennan Miller.
Weather: 71 degrees, Partly Cloudy.
Wind: 3 mph, Out To RF.
First pitch: 1:36 PM.
T: 2:30.
Att: 25,124.
Venue: Oriole Park at Camden Yards.
May 28, 2023
Inning Scoring Play Score
Bottom 1 Austin Hays singles on a sharp line drive to right fielder Robbie Grossman. Cedric Mullins scores. Adley Rutschman to 3rd. 1-0 BAL
Bottom 1 Ryan Mountcastle out on a sacrifice fly to right fielder Robbie Grossman. Adley Rutschman scores. Austin Hays to 3rd. 2-0 BAL
Top 6 Marcus Semien doubles (13) on a line drive to left fielder Austin Hays. Robbie Grossman scores. 2-1 BAL
Top 8 Corey Seager doubles (8) on a sharp line drive to center fielder Cedric Mullins. Bubba Thompson scores. 2-2
Bottom 8 Austin Hays singles on a ground ball to center fielder Leody Taveras. Cedric Mullins scores. Adley Rutschman to 2nd. 3-2 BAL
Team Highlight
BAL Bullpen availability for Baltimore, May 28 vs Rangers (00:00:07)
TEX Bullpen availability for Texas, May 28 vs Orioles (00:00:07)
BAL Fielding alignment for Baltimore, May 28 vs Rangers (00:00:11)
BAL Starting lineups for Rangers at Orioles - May 28, 2023 (00:00:09)
BAL Kyle Bradish's outing against the Rangers (00:00:23)
BAL Austin Hays cracks RBI single (00:00:21)
BAL Mountcastle's sac fly (00:00:26)
TEX Marcus Semien slaps RBI double (00:00:24)
Gunnar Henderson's slick snag (00:00:07)
TEX Cody Bradford tosses five K's (00:00:52)
TEX Corey Seager clips RBI double (00:00:21)
TEX Cody Bradford strikes out Mullins (00:00:11)
BAL Bradish hurls four strikeouts (00:00:51)
BAL Austin Hays taps RBI single (00:00:16)
BAL Félix Bautista K's final out (00:00:08)
TEX Condensed Game: [email protected] - 5/28/23 (00:08:42)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 R H E LOB
Rangers 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 0 2 7 0 4
Orioles 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 3 7 0 6

Decisions

Division Scoreboard

LAD 10 @ TB 11 - Final
SD 7 @ NYY 10 - Final
TOR 3 @ MIN 0 - Game Over
BOS 0 @ AZ 4 - Top 4, 1 Out
Next Orioles Game: Mon, May 29, 01:05 PM EDT vs. Guardians
Last Updated: 05/28/2023 05:08:57 PM EDT
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2023.05.28 21:36 Arandomglitchtalefan Part four of ep 4 s2. (Other parts linked in replys)

Some hours later, the colony’s power was back on as everything had mostly been cleaned up. Everyone was still a little shaken, especially as heavily armed soldiers patrolled through the halls, however now Khan was holding a meeting in the multipurpose room. Uzi, Thad, N and V were in the audience as the MTF team stood to the side with Red. Clef and Shaw were standing on the stage next to Khan.
Khan went to the mic on top of a stage before he spoke. “Hello everyone, as you know things have been…. Well you know. Anyways because our lovely colony is currently being cleaned and patrolled by our…. Hold on.” Khan then pulled out a piece of paper and read it aloud. “Benevolent benefactors…. Huh.”
Jane looked towards Aron who was smiling. “Did you give him a script?” Jane said.
“Yep. Best decision I ever made.” Aron replied. Jane rolled her eyes.
“Hmmm…. Pass the mic to Clef…. OH right sorry.” Khan said as he looked at the paper and gave Clef the mic.
“So what me and the foundation have decided is that now you will all be sent on a nice campaign trip to one of the few woods that isn’t infested with 939 instances…. Mostly. Just keep out of the nearby caves and ignore the voices and you’ll be fine. Anyway we already have the jeeps set up, mostly because the bus you were using is actually an instance of scp 2086…. I personally don’t know how any of you are still alive. Damn thing killed twelve men.” Clef said as he handed the mic to Shaw.
“Howdy everybody!” Shaw started in an enthusiastic voice. He waited for the crowd to say something as everyone stayed silent. “Ok…. We’ll Clef told you what you're doing, however I wanted to add something! The brave MTF at Alpha 1 will be your councilors! Mostly because they're the only ones qualified to deal with the things in there but hey that’s not important! Anyway back to the point, your councilors will be alpha 1 like I said, however because we don’t have enough people volunteering, N and V have graciously decided to step up!”
“WHAT!” V said as she stood up. “I NEVER AGREED TO THIS!”
“You're right! You didn’t! I made the decision for you!” Shaw said.
“Ummm…. Mr Shaw, I also didn’t get news of this.” N said as he raised his hand.
“It’s ok! You don't even have to do anything! I already made your outfits!!!!” Shaw said enthusiastically as he held out two camp uniforms.
“He got them from a couple of skeletons by the way, so if you feel wet while in them just know it’s because said skeletons were inside a 939.” Clef said.
“THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!” Shaw yelled. “Just have fun! Now get on those buses people! Yaaaaaaa! This is gonna be so much fun for you, aren't you excited?!?”
“Not at all.” Uzi said.
“Same here, this whole camp thing seems a little too excessive.” Red replied.
“Did I mention there’s a reward for whoever keeps the most WD’s alive- I mean uhhh…. Happy?” Shaw said.
“What kind of reward are we talking about….” V said as she sat back down.
“Ahhh…. You know…. Stuff.” Shaw said with a smile.
“A ton of motor oil.” Clef said. “For humans a ton of cash.”
“OH COME ON! STOP SPOILING THE SURPRISE!” Shaw yelled.
“So wait…. Why motor oil?” Cole asked as he turned to Gram.
“Motor oil is, In simple terms, beer for MD’s and WD’s. Highly intoxicating.” Gram replied.
“Huh, no wonder V is suddenly all for this.” Aron said. “She probably drinks a lot of it I bet.”
“Hey! I heard that!” V said from the audience. “Just so you know I’ve only drank it once! It was pretty sweet…. Wait, that reminds me…. Where is that other drone…. Fennec?” V looked around.
“She’s in the truck, she called the one with N in it and refuses to leave it until he gets on for some reason. No one can get her out so we’re rolling with it.” Jane replied.
“H-Hey, can I speak?” Thad said.
“Yes you can. Do you have a question?” Shaw said.
“Uh ya. What's 939?” Thad said.
“Oh golly I was hoping you would say that!” Shaw said now practically beaming.
“Dammit what have you done?!?” Clef said, annoyed. “Now we're gonna be here for thirty minutes….”
A half hour later, and everyone had packed their things and we’re going into one of the trucks, it was the middle of the night, the trucks had open canopies above them. The trucks were also colored black with the foundation logo on their sides. They were driven by one of the MTF, or N and V. When N got into his truck Fennec was already in the passenger side.
“Hellllloooo!” Fennec said enthusiastically. “We’re going camping!!!!”
“Yes we are! I’m a little nervous. I've never camped before….” N said as he put his hands on the steering wheel. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve never driven anything before….”
Meanwhile Uzi got on her truck with Thad and a couple more WD’s. However Lizzy was also on board.
“Wait…. Aren’t you supposed to be in the prison sector?” Thad said as he looked at Lizzy.
“She was let out for good behavior, and proving that she wasn’t a threat.” Jane said over the integrated intercom as she was about to drive the truck.
“We’ll…. Don’t try anything. Got it.” Uzi said, trying to intimidate Lizzy.
“I know.” Lizzy said as she set her backpack beside her.
“So is everyone ready?” Jane said as she spoke over the intercom.
“Yea. We’re ready.” Uzi said with a sigh as she tried to get comfortable.
“Then off we go.” Jane replied.
Red was in her own truck with a bunch of WD’s, Aron and Cole were driving it. The trucks had already started on the road. Gram was also in the back doing something on his tablet.
“So…. Cards?” Red said as she pulled out a deck of cards.
“Yea!” One WD said.
“Ohh! Are we doing Uno or Go fish?” A female WD piped up.
“I'll call first!” Another said.
“Slow down guys, geez, anyway it's Uno, I have enough cards for everyone so let’s get started!” Red said as she started to pass out the cards to the delight of the WD’s.
As the trucks drove through the harsh night of copper 9. Snow blew all around the trucks as curious WD’s peaked and saw the many sights of the planet.
Uzi’s truck saw a group of 745’s as Jane had called them, they were watching the truck from a building. As the truck went past,
One WD said. “Wow! Why do their heads glow like that?”
“They glow because their heads are bioluminescent, on earth it was to mimic the headlights of a car before ramming a person off the road and most likely eating them. However there is some evidence they just hunt for sport.” Jane said over the intercom.
“Cool!” Another WD, said.
On N, V, and Fennec’s truck they were barely keeping steady as V was squished between N and Fennec.
“Just keep your eyes on the road and drive ok?” V said, sighing.
“I-I know! I think…. Hold on, I got this!” N said.
“I believe in you!” Fennec said.
As N drove, the truck ran over tons of small hills, it even went into the air a couple times. However all was good as they finally made it to the outskirts of the city and into a smoother road.
After a long time of driving, all the trucks finally made it to the woods. Uzi was sleeping on Thad’s shoulder as everyone else in her truck was also sound asleep. Until suddenly a gunshot awoke all of them. As Uzi grabbed her railgun and looked widely, the other WD’s ducked for cover. However Uzi heard laughter behind her, looking behind herself to see Jane wielding a smoking pistol.
“UGH BITE ME!” Uzi said in annoyance as she got off the truck, the other now wide awake WD’s did the same. “What? It was funny!” Jane said, still chuckling to herself.
Meanwhile the WD’s in N, V, and Fennec’s truck were already awake and shaken, they got off as quickly as possible as N had managed to drive into a tree. He got off holding his head as V got off and slapped him.
“KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!” V yelled.
“Hey! Don’t yell at him like that! He was trying his best!” Fennec replied to V.
“Ya, his best to kill us!” V said.
“Hmph! Let’s go N she obviously doesn’t want us here!” Fennec said as she forcefully grabbed N’s wrist, V followed them anyway as she rolled her eyes.
Meanwhile Red had gotten off her truck laughing and joking with a female WD named Rebecca.
“Oh man I can’t believe you beat me!” Red said as she looked at Rebecca.
“Yea, I’m pretty good at cards.” She replied. “Oh also, just so you know this is my boyfriend!” Rebecca then pulled a male WD with sunglasses closer to her. He waved at Red.
“Aww you are so cute together!” Red said.
“Thanks!” Darren replied as Rebecca smiled.
“Hey, before we go our separate ways, I just wanted to say that if you need to go outside the camp for some ‘alone time’ I’ll be happy to help.” Red said with a wink before she left with a smile.
After five minutes, all the WDs, Red, Jane, Aron, Cole, and Gram had gathered in front of the lodges waiting and wondering wherever the MDs had walked off to while the wind and snow blew around them and the snow slightly building up on everyone’s clothes as they stood there.
“So uhhh, do we just start or….” Aron said.
“No, we have to wait for them. Orders from Shaw, we have to make sure everyone is here.” Jane replied. Red was considering pulling out one of the sets of cards again when suddenly three figures slammed down onto the ground in front of everyone, wings out along with their blades extended. It was N, V and Fennec, they were wearing camping uniforms Shaw had given them. They turned around to look at everyone, the yellow MD > “Jesus, could any of you be more threatening?!?” Red said.
“It was Fennec's idea.” V said.
“Welcome campers! Let’s sound off!” Said N as he looked up at everyone. “One, two….” N started as he counted the WD’s.
All the WD’s looked terrified. As none of them spoke. Suddenly V turned her right hand into a SMG and was about to shoot one of the WD’s, however before she could, Red tackled the WD down and out of the way of the bullet.
“WOAH WHAT THE FUCK!” Yelled Aron as he starred at V.
“…. What? I was just getting their attention.” V said as she looked around everyone.
“THAT'S how you get attention from people?!?” Red said as she stood up.
“…. Yes?….” V shrugged in confusion.
“Listen, I’m trying to get that prize alright? Just don’t go killing WD’s everywhere you look. Ok?” Red said.
“Jeez ok.” V said, rolling her eyes.
Every WD was stunned, however V just pointed her MP5SD at them again and without hesitation they all stood at full attention and said. “Present!”
“Ok! Great! That’s everyone! We have tons of activities planned! So don’t go sneaking off to investigate stuff!” N said as he slowly looked at Uzi a little.
“Also, you REALLY shouldn’t go out, trust me. The 939’s out here can and will eat you.” Aron said, stepping in front of the crowd. “As long as you don’t go out by yourself or listen to the voices at night you’ll be fine.”
“Wait, you didn’t clear them out?” Red said as she looked at Aron.
“We tried, lost an entire squad to one of them. So now we just decided to hand out rules…. It’s simple, just don’t go outside…. At all…. I’m serious, you will die a horrible drawn out death.” Aron said as he stared at all the WD’s.
All the WD’s stood still. However then Thad and Lizzie came from the crowd and stood with N, V and Fennec.
“See, if those two are going with them, you can trust them as well! Sorta. Actually never mind, that's a horrible idea.” Cole said.
After a long and drawn out ten minutes of getting everyone organized. Jane, Aron, Cole, Gram, N, and V had their groups, Fennec was never assigned one so she went with N’s group.
Meanwhile Uzi was going by herself, she had a backpack with her as she went off into the woods, as she walked the snowy paths, trees surrounding her with the night sky above her. Suddenly she looked to her right to see a pack of 745’s were starting to surround her, Uzi however simply waved her hand at them as the strange symbol that marked her powers surrounded her hand. Suddenly the 745’s became much more calm as they all left as Uzi went back to walking. Continuing to walk through the Forest each footstep leaving a mark in the snow and a crunch from each one as well as the noise of wind blowing snow through the trees. Then Uzi noticed something odd. A pair of red glowing eyes were staring at her from the darkness. As she looked back to confirm their existence they were gone. Uzi shivered and seemed to disregard the sighting as she went towards the cabin.
As Uzi walked, the campgrounds were doing surprisingly fine, each cabin held one of the councilors doing a ‘fun’ activity with their group of WD’s.
Inside one was Jane’s group. Jane held her sniper rifle and had set up a makeshift shooting range, Jane was seemingly demonstrating something by hitting every target with a perfect headshot. Each target was a paper cut out of a silhouette with a Anderson robotics logo on its head.
“Ok so, does anyone else want to try their hand?” Jane said as her rifle smoked.
“Every WD in her group stayed silent before one raised their hand, it was Darren.
“You can do this!” Rebecca said.
Darren smiled as he took the rifle from Jane. He steadied himself and fired, however instead of hitting a target like he hoped. He instead fired the rifle directly out of his hands into the air. Jane caught the rifle mid air and shook her head as every other WD laughed. Darren quietly went back embarrassed.
Cole’s group was also inside their cabin, however, instead of doing any activities. Cole just sat in a chair at the corner.
“So…. What do we do?” One WD said.
“Hell if I know. I'm a soldier not a counselor, you know what screw this i'm going on patrol. You just do whatever you want.” Cole said as he got up and walked out with his shotgun.
As soon as Cole left, his cabin went into anarchy as every WD got up and started doing, as Cole said, whatever.
In Grams cabin the WD’s were disgusted to see a dead 745 flop down onto a table in the middle of the room.
“Today, we will be dissecting this 745 instance. Freshly killed by Jane when we got here. I’ll pass out the scalpels soon enough, make sure to get its organs and lay them out beside the body. Work as a team.” Gram said.
The WD’s looked at the body with disgust.
“If I can get sick…. Then I’m getting sick….” One WD said.
In Aron’s cabin it was something out of a boot camp. WD’s held up wooden sticks as they marched around the cabin, Aron walked around them yelling orders.
“Come on! Pick up the pace, green eyes! When I’m finished with you, you’ll all be considered foundation recruits! Be glad I haven't set up the course, yet!” Aron said.
“Y-Yes sir!” The WD’s said in perfect unison.
In N, V and Fennec's cabin. Which Red was also a part of. Red was exhausted and annoyed.
“Please…. STOP TRYING TO KILL THEM!” Red yelled at V.
“It’s the only way they’ll learn.” V replied.
“LIKE HELL! Sometimes I wonder why I even snuck on the truck…. I’m not even supposed to be here….” Red said.
“Wait, you weren't?” Fennec said before stumbling. “Then why are you here anyway?”
“Maybe it’s because she wanted to have fun! Like us! Right guys!” N said as he looked at the WD’s hiding in the corner, their eyes trained on V in fear.
“No, it’s because I snuck on. I was supposed to help out with repairs but hey, screw that. Connor managed to get me on board the trucks without much trouble.” Red replied.
“Wait, Connor? I haven’t heard from him in a long time.” V said, suddenly interested.
“Ya actually what has he been doing?” N said.
“Nothing really, he’s been in the back of the ship working on a pet project of his. I have no idea what that is but he says it’s too important to really say anything about it.” Red replied, shrugging.
“Huh, neat!” N said.
Meanwhile Fennec was in the corner with the WD’s, the WD’s looked terrified of her. Fennec then reached into her shirt to pull something out, as the WD’s prepared for the worst, Fennec then pulled out a green lizard-like animal, it looked two meters long from head to tail. It also had a long, thin body with eight pairs of narrow limbs. It looked to have compound eyes. It didn’t seem to mind as Fennec got it out of her coat as she held it in her arms.
“Hey Fennec, wait…. What’s that!” V yelled in surprise as she turned towards Fennec.
“Oh, I found him a couple years ago! I like him so I keep in my coat and let him rest there. He doesn’t seem to mind.” Fennec said.
“Huh, it looks kind of cute!” N said as he got closer. The WD’s also did the same in curiosity.
“You know, with the things I’ve seen, this is pretty normal. Somehow.” Red said as she shrugged.
N got closer to the green lizard thing, it then liked his visor. N backed his head away a little in shock. However he then giggled and said. “I like this thing. Can I hold him?”
“Sure!” Fennec said. “Anything for you!”
N then took the lizard from Fennec and held it in his arms as it liked his visor again to N’s delight, even V was intrigued by it even if her face didn’t show it.
Uzi however was dealing with things no man could explain. She was inside an abandoned cabin deeper in the woods. As she looked around, it was seemingly empty. There were little robotic bugs running around, doing things such as running away every time Uzi walked over.
Uzi rolled her eyes as she used her abilities to raise a flashlight above her head and turn it on. As she looked around everything looked mostly the same. Suddenly a noise from deeper inside the cabin suddenly resonated. Uzi switched her light to where the noise came from, as she watched. She suddenly saw a glimpse of what looked like a hand going back inside a corner. Uzi suddenly got startled and her flashlight dropped. As she caught it she heard another noise that sounded like a scream from outside. Uzi slowly went to the window and looked out of it.
However, it was just everyone else on the frozen lake, even though it was frozen Uzi could still see everyone one the ice messing around, some of the groups even had boats on the ice.
“This is…. Very underwhelming….” Red said as she was in a boat on the ice with N.
“We'll have to do something! Plus this is very cool!” N said as he went to the front of the boat and stood on it.
“And this is very cool!!” Fennec said as she sat on the back of the boat, the lizard keeping the WD’s happy as they played with it.
On N’s boat there were some more WD’s who were seemingly having fun, rowing the boat along the ice with oar’s. V’s boat also came up to N’s, her boat had a different strategy of doing things. V’s boat had her WD group holding it up. V along with Lizzie was on the top of it.
“Sabotage my minions! Plan X!” V yelled as one of the WD’s below her boat kicked N’s boat off course.
“As the WD’s in N’s boat started to rock. Rebecca suddenly said. “I-I can’t swim!” As she was about to fall onto the ice.
“…. It’s ice.” Red said as she looked at Rebecca. “You can’t swim on ice….” Red sounded a mix of disappointed and confused.
“Oh…. Right.” Rebecca said as she stedied herself on the boat. A little embarrassed.
“I should have never gone on this trip….” Red said to herself as she sighed.
Meanwhile V’s boat was starting to get ahead, however Red simply rolled her eyes and threw a coin she had in her pocket in front of V's boat. The WD holding it up in the front saw the coin and immediately went to pick it up.
“Ohhhh shiny!” He said as he bent down. However then the entire boat lost balance and fell.
V immediately used her wings to float above the crash as she rolled her eyes and looked at Red. Red had a smug expression on her face.
Then suddenly from the right came Aron’s boat, it was painted fully black with a white foundation insignia on its sides. The WD’s now wore wooden helmets, also painted black with the foundation insignia on them.
“I love working for the council!” Aron yelled from the front of the boat as the WD’s rowed with expert precision.
“I love working for the council!” The WD’s yelled back, also in perfect precision.
“Lets me know just who I am!” Aron said again.
“Let’s me know just who I am!” The WD’s said, repeating after Aron.
As Aron’s group passed N, and V’s groups they could only watch as they rowed their boat with military accuracy.
“Did you train them to be soldier’s or something?” V asked Aron as she flew closer.
“Your goddamn right! I’ve trained these WD’s to be soldier’s! When I get back I’ll be leading the first team of WD soldier’s the foundation has ever seen! Now repeat after me maggots!” Aron yelled back to his WD’s as he started the song over again.
All of a sudden, from behind Aron came a noise of what sounded like a car. As Aron turned around to the WD’s he saw Grams boat, it was not really a boat anymore.
Grams boat was now fully fitted with tires and all of the like. It was fully made and fully operational. It was more car than boat.
“Hello Aron.” Gram said as his car-boat passed Aron’s astonished group. N, Fennec and even V watched in awe as Grams' boat practically started to zoom around them in circles.
“H-How?!?” V said.
“Simple, intelligence.” Gram replied.
“Wait…. Where’s Cole?” N said as he looked around.
“Back at the bank of the river. They're still setting up.” Lizzy said with a chuckle as she pointed all the way to the bank, where Cole was trying his best to make his boat.
“It turns out anarchy isn’t a way to run something like that.” Lizzy said.
Meanwhile Uzi watched from the cabin window. Suddenly her face had the symbol of her powers for a split second on her right eye. The window shattered, Uzi immediately backed away, her visor showing a caution sign as she did so.
Uzi’s caution sign then had the words, ‘high heat’ on it as Uzi put down her backpack and looked inside. Inside it was a WD arm, as Uzi looked at the arm she was hyperventilating
Then all of a sudden an all too familiar voice came from behind Uzi.
“Uzi doorman, such a surprise seeing you here.” It said from behind her.
“W-Who-“ Uzi started as she turned around, however was shocked to see not N, V or anyone else. She saw Klen standing behind her, his hands in his coat as his eyes glowed a sickly red.
“Y-You!” Uzi said as she held out her hand with the symbol on it to fight Klen. However Klen just shook his head.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, heretic.” Klen said as he looked behind Uzi.
Uzi looked behind her to see what looked like a horde of fleshy abominations, they looked like they were once human, they all looked at Uzi. They made horrific noises as their flesh had seemingly been torn off. There was no sign of any kind of skin on any of their bodies.
“What do you want?” Uzi said as she looked back to Klen with some hints of fear.
“No no. It’s what you want my dear Uzi. For I have these that may interest you.” Klen then put his hand to its palm as he held it out, suddenly some tentacles came from the ground making a sizable hole, they rose holding up a WD corpse, the tentacles threw it aside as they went back down into the hole in the ground and pulled out three papers.
“This poor WD died alone, it’s a shame. I don’t even remember killing her. However she did write these. Read them, Uzi doorman.” Klen said as the tentacles passed the papers to Uzi.
The papers looked like drawings of a madman, however one of them was a paper from Anderson robotics. Uzi read it carefully and saw it was a notice of some kind. However there was another thing on it written in oil that said. ‘Lights from below’
Uzi turned it around to see a finger from something, perhaps a MD. Uzi took it off and studied it before Klen laughed.
“Enjoy your reading? heretic?” Klen said with a smile.
“Bite me!” Uzi said, looking at Klen with anger.
“Well that is no way to treat an old friend? Well I’ll have to punish you!” Klen said with a sneer.
Uzi started to prepare for the worst as she backed away from both Klen and his flesh creatures.
“Don't worry, I won’t do it myself, for that deed has already been taken. It will arrive shortly. Now Uzi, I hope to see your body in the snow, begging for mercy from yaldabaoth. However, you shall gain none!” Klen said with yet another sneer. Suddenly he and all his flesh creatures sunk into the ground, disappearing from view. As Uzi stared in disbelief at what just happened. She didn’t notice Doll behind her, watching her. Suddenly Doll disappeared before Uzi could even notice.
Then Uzi was suddenly knocked back by something plowing through the wall, knocking Uzi back into the front wall as she turned herself around to see what had happened.
In front of Uzi was a robot of some kind, it was bulky and had two Miniguns for its arms, its shoulders had what looked like small middle silos and it had large legs. As Uzi stared at this robot, it stared back at her with its head being a yellow light camera. Its head was mounted between its shoulder missile silos. Its shoulders had a strange logo Uzi had never seen before. They had the globe of earth colored a light blue on them with the words ‘Protection, Concealment, survival, education, destruction.’ In a circle around the blue globe.
“Absolute solver detected, calculating.” The robot said as it stared at Uzi. “Threat to sapient life if allowed to live. 70%. Course of action…. TERMINATION.” Its eye then glowed a menacing red.
“OH SH-“ Uzi was about to yell when suddenly the robot activated some kind of thrusters and charged at Uzi directly, Uzi reacted fast and activated her powers once again to make a shield with a large version of that symbol blocking in front of her.
However, that did almost nothing as the robot simply charged into the shield, knocking Uzi through the wall of the cabin. Uzi was knocked some ways away from the cabin as she got up from the snow, spitting some out and holding her head as she got up, she looked around and saw trees for miles and the cabin the distance, she must've been hit a mile away from it. Then she noticed the robot was already on its way surprisingly fast, in just a few short moments it was already in front of her.
Uzi immediately used her powers to try to directly target it. However when she tried her visor simply flashed a message. ‘Warning, cannot target.’
“Oh you have to be kidding me-“ Uzi said as suddenly the robot started to fire its miniguns at Uzi without any sense of remorse or emotion.
Uzi immediately used her powers to make a shield around herself as she fled behind a large boulder nearby. The robot started to slowly march to the other side of the boulder as it continued pelting it with its miniguns, slowly destroying Uzi’s cover.
As Uzi tried to think and started to panic, she looked around and saw a large tree nearby, Uzi had an idea. Uzi immediately used her powers to target the tree and with some effort managed to uproot it. As it floated Uzi was surprised even with herself, it was the largest thing she had lifted and she was doing it with ease like it was a metal pipe.
Uzi had no time to think as the robot finally got to the other side and started to fire on Uzi, however she thought quickly and threw the tree at the robot, it knocked it off balance and even somewhat dented it. However other than that it was unaffected.
Uzi immediately put her shield up just in time for the robot to start pelting her with bullets again as it walked closer to her. Suddenly it stopped to Uzi’s surprise. Instead its missile silos then fired what seemed like at least twenty small missiles at Uzi that looked like they were going around the shield.
Uzi immediately panicked and started to try to target the missiles with her other hand. Spikes came from the ground and pre-exploded almost every missile a safe distance away from Uzi, however a couple of them were going straight at Uzi, she was forced to tank them with her shield which immediately broke it and sent Uzi a few feet backwards. The robot wasted no time in firing again, as the bullets were about to hit Uzi she felt fear and panic for her life. Just then she started to fly in the air to dodge the bullets and started to fly away.
Uzi was surprised that she just did that, however she had no time to think as she looked behind herself and saw the robot also flying directly after her, worst of all it was aiming its miniguns and preparing to fire.
“DAMMIT, GO AWAY!” Uzi yelled as she uprooted multiple trees in the area and flung them at the robot, it was knocked down to the ground and, however that did little to stop it from going in the air again, however this time it must’ve put its thrusters to full because it flew faster than Uzi and charged directly into her like a charging bull.
As Uzi was flung out of the air even further away. She was knocked so far she made it to another building, this one was larger and made of actual concrete. It had a sign at the front that said ‘Visitor center’ but Uzi could care less at this moment.
As Uzi fled into the building landed outside and fired its missiles at Uzi to chase her within the building. As Uzi ran through the walls, making sure to knock things down behind her to stop the missiles. They kept coming expertly dodging whatever she threw at them. Then one of the missiles accidentally ran into a pillar as Uzi went around a corner fast into a large open area with a lot of support pillars. Its explosion took out the last few missiles as well as the tower. However it gave Uzi an idea as she looked at the building now shaking from it. Uzi started to smile.
As the robot came into a large open area with all the pillars, it looked around for Uzi and didn’t see her. It seemed confused as it looked again and scanned the area.
“Hey! You! I’m over here!” Uzi yelled as she came out from a pillar and waved her hands with a smirk. The robot didn’t hesitate as it fired its miniguns at her. Uzi however just ran back to the pillar and stayed behind it as the robot destroyed it with the hail of bullets. Then she moved into the next, and the next, and the next.
Uzi’s smile grew larger as more pillars started to fall and the building started to slowly crumble. Then she went behind one of the few pillar’s remaining as the robot fired at it, just as Uzi had hoped.
As the pillar was destroyed, it was the straw that broke the camel's back as all the other pillars started to collapse from the weight of the building practically falling on top of them.
Uzi immediately flew out of the building as fast as she could, the robot was about to follow when the building collapsed on top of it. Outside, Uzi barely made it. She looked behind herself, and after a few seconds of silence.
“HELL YA! I JUST DID THAT! THAT WAS ME!” Uzi yelled as she celebrated.
Just as Uzi was about to go back with a smile on her face. The robot started to slowly crawl from the rubble unnoticed, it was heavily damaged, wires were poking out as one of its arms was gone, it’s legs were missing and dents were all over its body.
“T-TTT-TT-TT-TTERMINATE.” It said as it glitched and sparked.
Uzi turned around just in time to see it just as it fired everything it had at Uzi, its minigun fired one last salvo as it fired whatever missiles it had left. Uzi could barely react In time as she set up her shield. However some bullets made it through and pierced her body, spilling oil on the snow as the missiles hit it and flung Uzi a few feet back as more bullets went into her. As Uzi laid on the ground now seemingly dead. The robot’s eye turned back to yellow.
“M-MM-MMMISSION CCCCCCC-CCCOMPLET. REEEETURRNING TO BASE.” It said as it started to crawl in a direction slowly.
However, Uzi's body started to change. She grew large black organic wings as she screamed in pure rage, the robot turned back confused. Standing over it was Uzi, but that was impossible, its calculations had said nothing could survive a salvo like that.
Uzi stared at the robot with uncaring eyes as her visor turned into a purple >< symbol. She immediately grabbed the robot's head and with strength she should’ve never had. She ripped it off, killing the robot instantly. She then flew back with her wings to the camp.
Meanwhile back at the camp everyone had finished the activities and were back in their cabins, surprising everyone had stayed alive. Mostly thanks to Red’s constant vigilance.
“I. Hate. You.” Red said exhausted as she looked at V.
V shrugged and said. “What? I was only doing what I know.”
“We’ll I had a great time!” Fennec said.
“Same here!” N said as he looked around.
“However I keep counting everyone and yet I don’t see Uzi…. Hmmm…. Wonder where she went?” N said as he looked around.
Meanwhile Rebbeca and Darren were going into the woods, Red had told them this path would lead them to a secluded place free of 939 or 745’s where they could make out peacefully.
“Wow, that Red girl sure knows her stuff.” Darren said as they made it to a small log house.
“I know right?!? She’s my new bestie hands down. Anyway, let's not waste anymore time.”
As they went inside it looked strange. There were some kind of black things on the walls and a flashlight on the ground. As Rebbeca went to pick it up. She suddenly felt a presence from above her. As she and Darren looked above themselves they saw what looked to be Uzi, however she had black organic wings and even a black organic tail that seemed to be alive as it had a face and jaws.
As Rebbeca and Darren starred in absolute horror at Uzi’s new form. Uzi was seemingly about to pounce and kill them, when suddenly a roar was heard from the opposite side of the room. Uzi, Darren and Rebbeca looked over and saw a creature, it looked quadrupedal and had a frog-like stance. It was blood red and had spikes running along its back, its snout was like an alligator and it seemed to have no eyes.
It looked at Uzi and roared again as it swiped in a show of force at Uzi. Uzi put her attention away from Darren and Rebbeca as they fled and instead towards this new foe. Uzi chuckled as it started to charge.
Meanwhile back at camp, N was recounting everyone, not only that but strangest of all was that now the MTF were gone as well.
“You're really bad at this….” V said.
“N-Now hold on! I…. Uhhh…. I can fix this!” N said, now panicking a bit.
Red rolled her eyes and said. “This is why I never should’ve come….”
Suddenly Darren and Rebbeca came running from over a nearby hill and through the trees, they were seemingly running from something.
“Hey guys? What’s wrong? Run into a 939?” Red said confused as she went up first to meet the exhausted pair.
“I-It’s Uzi! She’s gone feral!” Rebbeca said out of breath.
“Oh Uzi would never go feral! That’s crazy talk from a crazy girl!” Fennec said as she patted Rebbeca on the head.
“I-It’s true! She tried to eat us!” Darren replied.
“No slow done, I’m sure Uzi was just trying to scare you-“ N started before being cut off by a head of a 939 suddenly dropping from the sky right next to them as its blood sprayed everywhere.
Suddenly Uzi came flying down with blood on her lips as she crashed on the head, spilling its brains and gore everywhere.
“We’ll…. That’s new-“ Red said before suddenly being flung away by Uzi’s power’s.
N was also about to say something when he was suddenly flung away by Uzi.
Fennec was about to say something but as she saw Uzi her eyes widened into Ovals, and starting to shake and hyperventilate again as she fell onto her knees and then got magically tossed aside like the others.
V however was faster and charged directly. At Uzi, however, just as she was about to stab her. Uzi’s tail grabbed V and flung her deeper into the woods, Uzi flew after her. Uzi cut off V’s right arm and then used her powers to push her into a tree. V tried to shoot Uzi but Uzi just forced her hand up and the missile V shot missed horribly. Uzi then threw V to the ground and was about to stab her with her own syringe tail. When suddenly N came and grabbed Uzi by her coat along with Red who put her sword to Uzi’s neck, Fennec was also there helping V up.
“Woah, easy there.” N said, trying to calm down Uzi. However she just used her powers to hit Red with a nearby tree and stabbed N’s hand with V’s syringe.
“Ow, ok up we go!” N said as he tossed Uzi into the air above the very clouds.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” Red yelled as she got back up.
“No idea, but we’re trying to fix it.” V said as she regenerated herself.
Fennec said nothing as she lay on the ground curling her arms into her knees still shaking, repeating to herself no over and over again. Almost like she had seen this before.
“Ya…. I’ll go talk to her. Be right back!” N said as he flew up as well.
“…. Where’s those MTF when you need them?” Red said, sitting down next to V.
“I know, it’s infuriating sometimes.” V said, agreeing with Red.
Meanwhile the MTF team watched from a watchtower as Jane pressed a button on her radio and spoke into it.
“It’s happening, send everybody in, heavy and medium vehicles recommend and out down reality anchors. We got her.” Jane said as they started to go down from their watchtower.
From just outside the woods a large force of MTF operatives, tanks, APC’s, helicopters, and even some jets overhead started to move into the woods with utmost haste.
After some time with Red and V successfully making a snowman, N and Uzi suddenly crashed back down and crushed the snowman.
“God Dammit!” Red said, annoyed.
“Oh come on! That took us a few seconds to set up!” V said also annoyed.
“MY SNOWMANNN NOOOOO!” Fennec said as she started to cry a bit.
N was now holding Uzi who had lost her wings and tail.
“Accent was a bad idea anyway….” Uzi said as N was still holding her.
“N…. I’m also sorry….” Uzi said to N.
“Ehhh, not like you killed anyone! Except that 939…. But does that really count as anyone?” N said, looking at Red.
“Maybe, I don’t know I’m not a foundation researcher, why are you looking at me?!?” Red said.
“Hey, is it safe to come out now?” Rebbeca said as she came out from behind a tree. A lot of other WD’s did the same, some were hiding in the snow while others were literally in the trees.
“Wow, that was…. AWESOME! I’d like to see that again with my besties.” Lizzy said as she came out.
“Hey guys! I have returned with a bunch of snacks! As it turns out I left them in the trucks!…. What did I miss?” Thad said as he came out of the woods holding a load of chips and drinks.
Suddenly lights flashed on Uzi, N, V and Fennec as helicopters circled above. MTF ran out of APC’s as they charged into the area, with their guns all pointed to Uzi, their flashlights nearly blinding. Some of them even set up strange machines that glowed red and pulsated with red light.
Jane and the other MTF also came out from the crowd of MTF now gathering around and focusing on Uzi.
“Uzi, N, V, Red, and F. by order of the 05 council. You are all being detained for having abilities that can and will harm the people and things around you. Surrender yourselves or we will be forced to fire!” Jane said.
Uzi, N, V, Red, and Fennec looked around at the force of MTF and vehicles around them, the sound of helicopters above them and jet fighters circling like vultures above them.
“BITE ME!!!” Uzi yelled as she stared at Jane in anger and betrayal.
submitted by Arandomglitchtalefan to MurderDrones [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 20:46 austnme Which is the better deal? Both a 2019 Ford Fiesta Manual

I’ve been searching for a car for the past few months through FB market, craigslist, used and new cars at dealerships, etc. Looking for a deal and I’m telling myself that these two are looking like a good pick and the best deal i’ve found. I can drive manual and I read to avoid fiesta automatic transmission like the plague but the manual ones are reliable. Looking for a reliable, 5 yr+ car, only driving ~20 miles a day carfax looks clean on both of them and it’s the other slightly more expensive because of less mileage. The more mileage concerns me because it’s from MD and I haven’t had a good experience with cars from MD. What thoughts do y’all have if any if I should pull the trigger on one of these? Photos in comments
submitted by austnme to askcarsales [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 20:20 EzekialX Vulturebeard: Bad Roomies Part 2

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/ReddXReads/comments/13lfqkw/vulturebeard_the_legbeard_that_ruined_roomies_fo
Hi everyone, bunny here. I’m having Ezekial post this for me because while I lurk on reddit, I’m on too many online communities and burn out quickly on all of them. I’m just here to tell this incredibly long tale. Pull up a chair, grab a snack, get comfy. This is a long ride.
The Cast List
Bunny (author): 33, female, a year or so out of a divorce that turned toxic and abusive and ultimately helped me realize I was gay. Recovering lifelong doormat slowly building a spine. Neuro spicy gym rat with major depressive disorder, general anxiety disorder, and most recently diagnosed with ADHD. Unfortunately very familiar with surviving trauma.
Z (poster): My partner. 31, nonbinary (they/them), also neuro spicy with depression, anxiety, OCD, BPD, autism, and also familiar with lifelong trauma.
One Liner Beard (OLB): 33, male, neuro spicy with ADHD and depression. He also suspects autism but isn’t pursuing a diagnosis. His nickname here comes from the fact that in messenger, he usually has one-word replies like “oof” or “mmm” as an acknowledgement he had seen the message but has nothing further to contribute.
VultureBeard (Vulture): 30, female, neuro spicy and disabled with multiple conditions. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), autism, depression, anxiety, chronic migraines, but also possibly a list of things that may or may not be real – that will all be explained. The star of this unfortunate circus. Her name will be explained in this part.
Kid: 3. Female. OLB and Vulture’s child. Likely neuro spicy like we all are, but she’s also only 3 years old. Slightly speech delayed and not potty trained yet.
Minor mentions:
Shit ass ex-husband (SA): name is self-explanatory. 32, male. Divorce was amicable to keep the peace. I immediately went no contact with him after.
J2: Friend of OLBs.
You ready? Deep breath. Now let’s dive into this mess.

Chapter Two: VultureBeard, or the Walking Diagnosis
With the backstory of how we wound up with a neckbeard, a legbeard, and their kid out of the way, I’ll start on VultureBeard properly now.
J2 was the one who introduced her to OLB. He ran into her at a local convention, and they talked and spent the day together. He ended up sleeping over at her house, on her couch, since she lived a few minutes away from the convention center, and he introduced her to his D&D group that OLB was a DM for. He said that at first, he wanted to smash just based on looks (before she stopped caring for herself, before the pregnancy), until she opened her mouth.
Oh boy.
I met her on Halloween 2018 or 2019 (trauma made my memory absolute garbage, ain’t it fun?), when OLB wanted to run a one-shot Curse of Strahd campaign for our D&D group. J2’s group was called Party A, we were Party B. Both of our campaigns existed in the same universe that OLB created. It was a fun one shot. I liked her. We integrated her into our D&D campaign as a side character who joined our party.
With her autism, she talks a lot, and can have a conversation with anyone, but she does naturally miss a lot of social cues. She says it’s okay to be direct with her and say things like, “I can’t talk right now, I’m busy.” But in the wild, she just enjoys people. That in itself isn’t a bad thing.
When we met, she was a Mormon with long brown hair, glasses, and modest clothes with long ankle-length jean skirts. I don’t know if that was a lifelong practice or just the people she had associated with. She didn’t curse at all, and still substitutes “fudge” for my favorite and most often-used curse word. Over time, she dropped religion, but she only curses in text, and very rarely at that, like when she’s pushed to her mental limit. She still dresses in a lot of the modest clothes from before, but it’s mostly because she doesn’t go clothes shopping a lot. I have passed down some clothes I have shrunk out of to her.
Her fashion sense is a bit of Walmart-meets-Goodwill. The tired mom “this is clean, so I’ll wear it” kind of aesthetic. She’s big on thrifting, but so am I. Most of my wardrobe is thrifted or passed on from a few gym friends these days, so it’s not like I’m poking fun at secondhand clothes. It’s just that there’s a lack of style or effort on her part, like she just puts clothes on and sometimes remembers to brush her hair out. I think there’s a part of her that doesn’t recognize she’s plus sized after pregnancy because she once bought clothes that are size medium, and they didn’t fit. She fit my old 2X leggings. I traded her leggings once, my bigger size for her smaller size.
She and OLB don’t fold laundry or put it away, so she will have laundry stuffed in their hamper that they keep in our shoe closet next to the laundry room, or boxes on her desk, or on her desk chair. They kind of live out of that clothes pile. If she needs to dress in something nice, it likely is wrinkly because it was in an unfolded pile.
The first run-in with realizing that something was a little “off” with her was when she tried cooking for us. We had other friends over to play D&D and Magic with us, and she wanted to cook some kind of chicken and noodle dish. With her POTs (post orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), she’s usually sodium deficient so she adds way too much salt to whatever she’s eating. Not being used to cooking for others, she served us completely inedible chicken that was too salty.
One of my former friends was there for that debacle. What she also noticed was that Kid seemed to be behind some childhood markers. At 2, Kid was still using a bottle and didn’t seem to talk much. She was worried that Kid would keep falling behind. It was a red flag that got tucked away. At the time, I was still thinking of Vulture as a burned-out first-time neuro spicy mom. That’s a lot for a disabled woman to handle. As a disabled person myself, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. I gave her too much benefit of the doubt for way too long.
Vulture as a person focuses very much on herself. Because of the body aches and pains that come with both Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and POTs, yes, I understand that her body regularly fights itself. But why is it that every time her body expressed pain, she had to do a loud, “AH, OW” or other pain noises as loud as she could? Or she will complain about whatever is giving her trouble. Some days she will be using her computer quietly, then when I come out of my bedroom, she starts to complain about her daily aches and pains. This happens pretty much every day, for different reasons. Her sneezes are likewise as loud, to where I can hear her across the house, through a closed door and over the show Z and I are watching.
Most awkward is Vulture’s bathroom habits. In Apartment #2, I guess Vulture got used to using the bathroom with the door cracked because they lived in a house without roommates, and she needed to keep an ear on Kid. Even now in a shared space, she keeps the door cracked, sometimes with the light off so I don’t think anyone is in the bathroom because it’s more migraine friendly.
Until I hear the grunting.
THE GRUNTING.
THE POOP GRUNTING.
I have heard it through my closed bedroom door, because her bathroom is right next to my bedroom. Usually, it’s when my bedroom is quieter, like when Z and I are off to sleep. But I hear her grunting as she’s using the bathroom, either because the door is open, or she is just that loud. I’m terrified to know which one it is.
Her hygiene is questionable at best. I know personally that Depression™ makes hygiene and self-care extremely difficult. I myself do the best I can, especially while being constantly sweaty at the gym and a Big Sad (depression) fighter. So, I get mental illness and hygiene. With Vulture and her long hair, she would leave it in a bun for days until it matted. She asked for my help with detangling it and it took me around two hours to safely work the mats and tangles out. When she cut it in a homemade attempt to do the popular wolf cut on Tik Tok, it was much more manageable. When it’s shorter, it has tight curls. She constantly has a natural body odor smell to her. I think with her sensitive skin, she has to wear a specific unscented deodorant, but I don’t think she applies it unless she’s leaving the house. The sink in her and OLB’s bathroom is used as mostly a storage space with things piled on top of it, so I don’t think it’s used for much. The bathtub needs a deep scrubbing, and she gives Kid a bath more than she herself showers.
Having heard the poop grunting, I’m afraid to look at their toilet.
In general, Vulture isn’t active, but to say that she’s sedentary is a vast understatement. The average sedentary person looks like an Olympic athlete next to her. She occupies two spots in the house: Her bed, or the couch in the living room. For most of the day. She will just have her laptop either on the table next to her or in her lap, and that’s where she spends most of the day, gaming.
With me being a gym rat, I am incredibly proud of how I went from a couch potato to a weightlifter. When I think about what would happen if I suddenly dropped to her levels of activity, I know my body would fall apart. I often wonder if her lying in bed or on the couch contributes to more of her body pains because her muscles are deteriorating from disuse. I mean what do I know, I’m not a doctor. That body pain cycles to her being even more inactive because she hurts. It’s a big cycle of negativity.
When the weather changes drastically, she will be hit with migraines or allergy attacks, to where she has to lay down all day as well. She takes OTC pain medicine frequently, as well as allergy meds. One of her desk cabinets is a well-stocked mini pharmacy of OTC medication and some prescription medication she has collected over time that expired over a year ago. When I’m hit with a rare migraine, I know she will have something in stock for it.
Her doctor says she needs to eat more frequently because she’s always shaky. She will hold up her hand to show me how much it’s shaking, and it always looks as though she’s making it shake from the wrist, instead of it being an actual hand movement. She always tells me, “Look at this,” and holds up her shaking hand, like she’s trying to show me how bad she’s doing, but it’s for different reasons every time. She didn’t eat, she’s too tired, she has a migraine, she has sinus pain – everything gives her shaky hands, which I joked about once.
If she has a new symptom, she goes to Doctor Google to look up what’s wrong with her, and then talk in our house chat on discord that she thinks she might have “so and so” wrong with her because the symptoms match. Or she will post screenshots of whatever her symptoms are. As far as I know in the time living with her, she’s never had close medical calls or anything that needed further treatment, except for a heart study where she wore a device to monitor her heart rate. Doctor Google gave her all sorts of things she could have, though.
Within the time I started writing this saga, I had this encounter with her in the house group chat on discord that she, OLB, and I are in, about how she thinks she’s allergic to mosquito bites because the bites swelled up and got inflamed:
Vulture: Just figured out something I’m most likely allergic to: mosquito’s saliva reaction is increased inflammation around the bite site and the condition is skeeter syndrome.
Me: You should get that confirmed by a doctor. It’s mosquito season.
(it sounds like she copy/pasted that bit about mosquito’s saliva from Google)
Mind you, my former in-laws thought I was allergic to mosquito bites because the same thing happened to me. My mosquito bites swelled up beyond what they should look like, and mosquitos have a good nose at finding me in particular compared to other people. I tried to empathize with her, even though it just seemed like she wanted to identify with a syndrome she found on the internet.
She said that she had the same symptoms her friend’s dad had for GERD because her acid reflux was acting up. The GERD saga is a fun one as well, which I’ll fully share later.
Funny enough, if I also have something similar to what her current issue is, she doesn’t play Oppression Olympics and say hers is worse. I’ve been dealing with vertigo on and off for the past month and I don’t have the ability to see a doctor for it at the moment. So, when she says that she’s dizzy or the room is spinning, I express empathy or at least a little “oh, same here,” because I have to carefully move my body in ways that don’t make the room spin. It might be her autism, it might be because she doesn’t care, but she never expresses empathy my way. She just moves on.
I’ve told her multiple times she needs to see a doctor to check for each new symptom she has, but somehow there’s an excuse. The latest I’ve heard is, “I will once my phone is turned back on. It hasn’t been paid in a while.” Valid yes, but then please get off Google. Because she’s on government assistance and doesn’t have a car and doesn’t know how to drive, she’s ferried to her appointments by a medical bus that stops at the house. They do need to be able to call her. Just please get off Google in the meantime! I’ve even told her that Doctor Google and WebMD will say everything is cancer or fatal and it’s not good for you, and she just kind of brushed it off.
One of my friends calls her the Professional Victim. Z is convinced she has Factitious Disorder (formerly called Munchausen’s). She loves to hide behind her illnesses as to why she can’t get out of bed or can’t do chores. If you were to listen to her every day, you’d think she was falling apart at the seams because it was always something. Migraine, body pain, allergies, sinus problems or sinus infections, stomach problems, dizziness, shakiness. Repeat. Forever.
She will ask me if her forehead feels hot, and when I can’t tell, she checks with a thermometer. She says, “My natural body temperature is low so 99 degrees is a fever to me.”
This is also where I gave her a lot of benefit of the doubt at the beginning, because EDS and POTs will affect the entire body in different ways. One of my friends, in her casual dark humor, will have conversations with me about how she’s just not going to be able to walk properly that day, because her ankle joint slid out of place, but she still finished her work shift. I talk to my friend regularly about her struggles with her body, but somehow it doesn’t have the same self-pity that Vulture’s does. Every disability presents differently between people. As rare as EDS and POTs is, it’s pretty common in online communities because it’s where people tend to flock to. In my time in varying disabled online communities, I’ve never seen someone who complains or fishes for attention as much as Vulture does.
If she’s having a relatively good day, she will either be gaming, or maybe she will get to one of the chores that OLB tries to get her to do during the day, like doing the dishes or cleaning Kid’s room. When OLB had prescription Adderall (before the shortage made him switch to a different ADHD med), she took one of his pills and was zooming around actually being productive. She has symptoms of ADHD but doesn’t have a formal diagnosis, so OLB thought it might help her. It seemed to.
If she has a bad day, which is most of her days, she stays rooted on the couch or moves between her couch and her bed, moving her laptop with her. She spends all day building in Minecraft, completing her Pokedex, or playing other games.
Sometimes when I come out of my room to cook, she says something along the lines of, “I planned on cleaning today,” followed by vague hand gestures of how she’s feeling. I never asked her about her daily plans, but she needed to tell me. Is it self-awareness or guilt?
If she’s doing a load of dishes, she will loudly proclaim that she’s dizzy and shaky and in pain and have to go sit down after 10 minutes of that. I don’t know if she actually has the body strength to stay upright for longer than ten minutes at a time, and I don’t know if that’s her actual chronic illnesses, or the fact that she doesn’t do anything at all.
I’ve given her the same advice I use myself for low spoon (low energy) days when I need to get things done. I’ve told her it’s okay to take ten-minute breaks and then get started again. Or an hour break, if her body is giving her trouble. I’ve told her it’s okay to clean the house while sitting on the ground or in a chair, if that’s easier on her body. In managing my broken mental health, I’ve taught myself all sorts of life hacks, or as I call them, “brain hacks,” to work around how gross depression makes me feel. And I’ve told her that if it’s a really bad day, the dishes aren’t going anywhere and can wait until tomorrow.
That’s meant to be compassionate, not taken in the “if you give an inch, they’ll take a mile” sort of way, but it must be interpreted as permission to not do The Thing. It just won’t get done if she feels she has permission to skip over it.
If she does anything, she will want metaphorical ass pats for her good work. OLB jokes that it’s a praise kink, but some days it really seems that way without anyone consenting to participate in her kink. She asks if I noticed she cleaned the kitchen or did some kind of cleaning and if I’m proud of her. I used to play along with the praise because I wanted to give her positive reinforcement, like maybe if I emphasized that it was a good thing, she’d be more encouraged to do it more. I’ve got jokes, apparently. Optimism was so strong early in the friendship.
If she cooks, usually it’s something frozen that she can heat up like pizza. Most of the time, she exists on boxed macaroni and cheese or sandwiches. Or what fast food OLB brings home. Most of her diet is processed, instant, or frozen. Or she eats odds and ends like what cereal and junk food is brought home from the food bank or when OLB goes shopping.
Since SA left the house, I took up cooking for myself and exploring what I like to cook, as SA was the main cook for the house. My gym regimen helped me meal prep and confront a lot of my bad eating habits, so I started prepping healthier foods. I am the stereotypical lifter that eats a lot of chicken, rice, and vegetables. Z also likes to cook, and it became a way for us to bond by cooking together or one of us watching the other cook and just vibe in each other’s company.
VultureBeard gets her name because, one, she is a legbeard. But two, every time I made something early on with her living with us, she always said something along the lines of, “Ooh, that smells so good! It’s making me hungry!”
Me, in my doormat stage, took the cue that she dangled and offered her some of my food. Back then, I always tried to cook enough for the whole house. It became a pattern. If I cooked something, she always popped up, hungry and unable to make actual food for herself or somehow her illnesses were acting up and preventing her from cooking for herself. If I said I was popping over to the store, sometimes she would ask if I could pick up a soda for her and occasionally, she would be able to pay me, always in loose change because her disability payments went right to the bills that she and OLB had. I always took the bait because yeah, doormats will doormat and vultures will vulture.
She does reciprocate in small ways, sharing some occasional treats with me or saying I can have some of her mac n cheese or Oreo cookies or French fries or whatever food she has some days. But for the most point, a lot of her behavior feels like fishing – fishing for attention, for food, for confirmations of her medical issues.
Her general attitude towards housework also contributes to her main other issue that makes me want to scream. She hoards. Empty salsa jars, Nesquik containers, pizza boxes, mac n cheese boxes. She holds onto things that Z and I see as garbage, because she has dozens of DIY projects in mind. She would be the person that followed 5 Minute Crafts for useful projects. To her credit, she did make a nifty sock organizer out of spare cardboard. But she has dozens of empty frozen pizza boxes and macaroni boxes piled up on her desk and ideas in her head, but no actual execution of them. I have pictures on my phone of her desk hoard, and while the desk itself is tall, the pile on the topmost part of the desk reaches the ceiling. That’s at least two feet of buildup.
It drives Z batty. With their OCD, Z can’t stand seeing the general mess in the house, but her desk makes them want to throw things. There was an empty Pizza Hut box that spent a week on the floor under the table in the living room before she finally picked it up and moved it to her desk. She scolded my cat for jumping on it.
Vulture: I want to save it for a project, I just don’t know what I want to use it for yet.
Me: Why not just throw it away? Isn’t it garbage?
She only gave a vague shrug, and the pizza box stayed on her desk for another few days until while cleaning the kitchen, Z got tired of looking at it and finally took it out to the outside garbage bin.
This is a constant pattern for her. She hoards things that she sees as something that could be useful in the future, but in the meantime it all stacks up and takes up space. She and OLB both are pack rats, which I think enables it further. OLB said that she also hoards food when she thinks there’s a food shortage in the house, but that also includes things that shouldn’t be eaten or are close to being spoiled. She freezes produce and even bread dough she made because she would start projects and then not have the energy to finish them or deal with them properly. I think if Z and I weren’t in the house, it would just be a rat’s nest of garbage.
That was why Z and I took on the majority of housework. We have a current setup to deep clean the common areas of the house monthly, and anything she doesn’t pick up that we read as trash will get thrown out. It’s barely making a change in the house, but it’s better for our mental health. It’s unfortunate that the house barely stays clean for two days after we clean it.
OLB usually has an excuse for not contributing towards the housework. His ADHD makes him forgetful, plus he hates dishes and purposefully avoids them until he knows he has to deal with it. He’s mostly just exhausted from work. With Vulture? Ten thousand excuses.
With OLB working an exhausting but consistent tech repair job, that leaves Vulture in charge of Kid during the day. If she exists entirely in her bed and the couch, how is she able to keep up with a toddler?
Oh, that’s going to be a huge tale on its own. Fuckle the buck up. We’ve got a long way to go. And yes, it will make you angry.
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2023.05.28 19:19 mannyphoenix Security Square Mall (Baltimore MD)

Security Square Mall (Baltimore MD) submitted by mannyphoenix to deadmalls [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:46 sexthrowaway654 [30][M4F][Baltimore][MD, USA] Maybe the unofficial start of summer will bring me luck

Hi! Posted a few times this year, and talked to a few people and many spam bots, but nothing unfortunately panned out. Also, maybe I'm just a bit picky. Attraction is a good part of sex, and I want to be sure we both have a good time. Anyway, with the [unofficial] start of summer tomorrow, maybe they will bring me good fortune. And hopefully this doesn't make me sound desperate, b/c I'm not. Just [redacted].
I'm a 30 year old wizard virgin. For a variety of reasons, mainly due to (high functioning?) social anxiety. But I've had a good amount of opportunities to lose it over the years, but alas, never made it to home plate. And tbh, and not trying to typecast late bloomers, but you would probably not guess I'ma virgin. I really don't prescribe to the notion of virginity as "something to lose", but I really just want to get it over with, you know. Plus, I wouldn't have to lie to friends anymore lol.
A bit about me if you're curious. I won't share too much because have IRL friends that frequent reddit, and don't want to be recognized. But I'm happy to link my real reddit profile(which will be happy to share). Tall, lean, brown eyes, dark hair, light-skinned. Happy to exchange pics, But here's a half-face pic and a sfw body pic . Interests include hip-hop/ social justice/cats/football/horror movies. And DDF(besides very 420).
What am looking for? Well, I'm an extremely sex-positive (and kinky) individual(despite me being a virgin), and have a very high sex drive, and I'm really not looking for a "teacher". I'm just looking for a cool, down-to-earth, emotional intelligent woman. And I'm not looking to take anyone's virginity, or a relationship.
Please message me with your favorite summertime song so know you've read this entire post(and to weed out spam). Cheers!
PS. DC/NOVA is fine too!
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2023.05.28 18:33 miraondawall Getting to/from Newport by train/cab?

Hi all - my elderly (mid-80s) parents are traveling to Newport from Baltimore this summer. They will be staying at a hotel in the harbor area.
Their plan is to drive each way, but I am trying to convince them to take Amtrak from Baltimore to either Kingston or Providence and then take a cab to Newport. This is because I am not crazy about them driving that far or driving on 95. I could of course drive them up myself and then take the train back (and I haven't ruled that out) but would prefer not to have to spend the vacation days.
I would like advice on the best way to structure a trip to Newport via train and cab. I know that Kingston is slightly closer to Newport than Providence is, but Providence is the bigger town and so my thought is that there may be more cab options there. The Acela also stops in Providence but not Kingston.
My parents will not consider flying, even though I think that would also be safer than driving.
If you were planning this trip for your parents, how would you structure it? (Assume that the cost of taking the train versus driving is not an issue). Would you have them take the train to Kingston or to Providence, and how would you advise them to get to Newport from there?
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2023.05.28 18:20 EchoJobs Xometry is hiring Senior Software Engineer Remote US [C# Python Ruby JavaScript React Angular TypeScript Java C++ HTML CSS JQuery Git]

Xometry is hiring Senior Software Engineer Remote US [C# Python Ruby JavaScript React Angular TypeScript Java C++ HTML CSS JQuery Git] submitted by EchoJobs to golangjob [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:13 PleaseBmoreCharming West Shore Park, Inner Harbor, Baltimore, MD

West Shore Park, Inner Harbor, Baltimore, MD submitted by PleaseBmoreCharming to CityPorn [link] [comments]