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AITA for potentially splitting up my family?
2023.06.04 19:13 HippyPixieEmoKid AITA for potentially splitting up my family?
Trigger warnings: depression, emotional, mental and physical abuse, child abuse, abortions, suicide idealations and attempts.
Backstory: I was diagnosed with epilepsy when I was 13 years old, although some doctors believe I'd been having seizures since I was as young as 6 or 7. I was also diagnosed with manic depression/bipolar disorder when I was 16.
At 21 I gave birth to my first daughter, M. A little under two years later I had my second daughter, A. The first pregnancy wasn't easy and I had a lot of seizures during the course of the pregnancy. Many trips to the hospital to make sure baby was safe. But after I gave birth I jumped straight into motherhood. I lived roughly 4 hours away from my parents and struggled with feeling homesick frequently. I called my dad daily for parenting advice, to vent, to update him, and also to help subside that homesick feeling. Regardless though, I was a very attentive and active mom. I spent all of my time with M. She was my best friend. I LOVED being a mom and I was THRIVING. After M turned 1, I moved back "home" and moved back in with my parents. My second pregnancy was much the same. Uncomfortable pregnancy, many seizures. However with this pregnancy I had some complications that caused A to be born 10 weeks early. This caused A to spend the first several months of her life in the nicu and even had to have gastral intestinal surgery before she was even 4 months old. Due to my epilepsy I do not drive, but I did everything I could in my power to see my A as frequently and for as long as I could. Visiting hours were somewhat restricting though.
At some point in time I started displaying symptoms of postpartum depression that was heavily exasperated by my manic depression. I was at an all time low. The physical pain of a depression that immense had crippled me. I felt like I had concrete in my veins. Just getting up and going to the bathroom was an exhausting task. I spent most of my days sleeping as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. Thankfully I lived with my parents, my younger daughters father (J), and some of my sisters. I would say I had plenty of help and support, but a more accurate statement would be "the children were looked after". I on the other hand was mocked, teased and belittled at every opportunity. At the time I thought nothing of it. I thought "that's just how my family is" I was raised with the motto "the more I tease you, the more I love you". Before my dad knew I was pregnant (I kept it a secret for 18 weeks because J was pressuring me to get an unwanted abortion.) my dad pointed to my stomach one morning and said "you know, some situps would help with that" I was devastated, already feeling fat and disgusting, and went to my room to cry.
Without me even realizing it, the negative comments and belittling nature of my family took a toll on me and I was getting deeper and deeper into my depression without a light at the end of the tunnel. I HATED myself for not being able to get up and play with my children. I couldn't understand how I could be so active and attentive with M at that age but I just didn't have it in me for A. I felt like I'd failed her in so many ways. I tried my best to find solutions to the problem. Often times I'd try to find games to play with them that involved me lying or at least sitting on the couch. Puzzles, coloring, movies, cars. Anything low impact, but kids want to run and play and be active.. I felt like the worst mom of all times and I wasn't being told differently by those around me. In fact my greatest fears were being confirmed daily. One day I finally broke and had a full mental breakdown in front of my mom. I had confessed to my mom that I was having suicidal idealations. I knew deep down I didn't want to end my life, but I wanted the pain to stop. I couldn't breathe under the weight of my depression and I desperately needed help. I sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, confessing all of my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings at that time. My mom, in my opinion, brushed me off and said "well look into counseling or something" and then walked away, while I stayed sitting against our front door, crying my heart out. I felt devastated. All I wanted was a hug and some comfort but it was clear I was barking up the wrong tree. I got myself together, went upstairs, and went to sleep in order to escape the heartbreak and numb myself again. This entire timeline is a blur to me, so I'm not sure how much time passed between my melt down and this next conversation, but I feel like it was less than a week when my mom sat me down to have a conversation about the girls.
She suggested to me that my parents take temporary custody of the girls until I was able to "get on my feet". She kept pushing this narrative that it was what was best for the girls and their safety. She used my epilepsy as an excuse. Telling me that it was unsafe for the girls to be under my care when my epilepsy was so unpredictable. She also used my mental health, feeding into all of my fears and my own perceived shortcomings. A decent way into the conversation, my dad joined us. His whole demeanor radiated "this is a waste of my time. Just do what we say so I can go do other things" but maybe that was me reading too deeply into his behavior. Once he sat down it felt like my mom leaned even deeper into this narrative that they were clearly the better option for the girls wellbeing, but it would only be for a short time and that they were mainly concerned with the girls quality of life. I really struggled with what to do. I already felt like I was failing my children because I was so mentally and emotionally drained and detached. I didn't want to abandon them or lose them, but I also didn't want to harm them in the ways I had been harmed growing up. I figured my mom knew best because she had been in my shoes for all of my childhood. The vast majority of memories I have of my mom are of her sleeping on the couch, or raging out over the most minuscule things. I didn't want my children raised like that... So reluctantly, I agreed, truly believing I was doing a selfless thing and putting my children first. (This would later be used against me at every opportunity) I signed a piece of computer paper that my mom had scribbled an agreement on, stating that I was signing over temporary custody of my kids to my parents, with the understanding that I would get full custody back at an undisclosed time.
One day while I was down the road at a friend's house, my mom called me frantic, demanding I get home immediately. I rushed up to the house to find out that A's dad, J, had her wrapped in three blankets, in her car seat (it's the only place she would sleep). She was drenched in sweat (apparently new borns aren't supposed to sweat, especially not that much) and she was crying hysterically due to discomfort. J was irate, screaming at her and aggressively shaking the car seat. My mom said she heard him scream "shut the fck up or I'm going to *unalive you". She was under the impression that him and I were arguing again, and had come to break up the fight. (This always seemed odd to me seeing as how she never once intervened in our arguments before) When she realized I wasn't home and he was talking to A, she grabbed A and went downstairs. As she walked down the hall, j punched a hole in the wall near her head. He claimed he was "only trying to scare her" because she was "stealing his child from him" I was outraged and mortified. I tried multiple times to leave him and kick him out, but I had no support from my family. At one point I even resorted to packing up all of his belongings and throwing them out on the lawn. I'm not proud of that but I felt I had no other choice, and rushed to lock the doors when he went to get his things. My sister promptly unlocked the door and let him back in, claiming I was "acting psychotic" I felt trapped... But I had grown up around this behavior. My dad was an angry drunk and I had grown up believing that those behaviors were "passion" rather than aggression. So I accepted my fait and went on as if nothing had happened, certain that this would be the rest of my life.
One day when J was driving me to work we got into an argument and he repeatedly told me "your dad was right. You should do the world a favor and just unalive yourself. Everyone would be a lot happier" he kept repeating it over and over until I finally had it. He pulled up to a stop sign and I got out of the car and started walking down the road. He immediately started freaking out, begging me to get back in the car, using everything he could think of to manipulate me into getting back into the car. I finally caved and got back in. J dropped me off at work and as I got out of the car I told him "we're over. I'm breaking up with you". I closed the door before he could say a word and walked into work feeling like I was on cloud 9. It felt like all of my troubles had been wiped away. When I got inside, I told a friend what happened and explained that I didn't want to go home that night because I knew a guilt trip was waiting for me when I got there. I knew there would be an argument that would last hours and I would finally break due to exhaustion and would inevitably take him back. My coworker seemed to understand and let me stay at his house as long as I needed.
I called my mom and told her what had happened. I begged and pleaded with her to kick J out, but she refused. She was concerned that he'd try to take A if she kicked him out. I told her I was certain he wouldn't. He only ever cared about himself and his own self preservation. A baby would only make things harder for him and it was a responsibility and a role he didn't even want in the first place. I told her J had spent 18 weeks pressuring me to abort A and was evening willing to drive me out of state to get the procedure done, until I finally put my foot down and told him no, I was keeping my baby. I stayed away for 2 full weeks, the entire time begging and pleading with my family. Pointing out his abusive tendencies and his history with verbal and physical abuse and outbursts. My mom held her ground and refused to help me in any capacity. Every time M asked where I was, my mom would say "your mom's at work" rather than have her call me and talk to me. This created a lot of psychological trauma for M. She had severe seperstion anxiety, having panic attacks any time someone had to leave the house, convinced that if they left they'd never return. Still to this day she has abandonment issues as well as severe panic attacks.
After two weeks, I started coming over for visits but I never moved back in. During this time, J informed me that he was talking to another girl. He made it abundantly clear that she was 16. He was roughly 25 or 26 at the time. I later found out that they weren't talking. In fact, she had a boyfriend who was age appropriate, but J had been going and telling their entire friend group that they had been messing around together. I was then informed by my younger sibling L, that J had made advances on her that she quickly shut down. I think she was roughly 18 at the time. When this didn't pan out and J didn't get the reactions he expected from myself or L, he moved on. Years later I was told the same time xact story by both J and my oldest sister Al. "We had been hanging out, drinking, smoking. Ya know, the usual. And then well... Because I was so inebriated, they took advantage of me and we slept together" Knowing the both of them well enough, I knew it was consensual and they were just embarrassed and scared of my reaction. I laughed and told them they deserved one another.
As you can imagine, J's questionable life choices caught up with him and he was rejected from every friend group he had, to the point where he left the state and broke all contact with myself, and my family. It was a weight off my shoulders when he was finally gone. At that point I had gotten my own apartment but it was the first time I lived alone, paying my own bills, and I was not good at it. I was missing bill payments left and right. My power was shut off in the middle of winter and before long I was evicted. I was homeless and asked my parents if I could move home. They said no, that it would be too confusing for the girls if I moved back in with them. I ended up staying with friends on the couch in a one bedroom. It was extremely uncomfortable, but I had a roof over my head. When their lease was up, they invited me to get a new place with them. I agreed and I started learning about finances and how to be a functioning part of society.
My parents said I was welcome to visit the girls any time I wanted, but when I'd ask, it was a whole ordeal and guilt trip because they had to come pick me up and refused to bring my kids to my place. They said the car ride was too much for the girls to handle. Mind you, Ms dad B, still lives 4 hours away. My parents regularly drive both of my daughters up to see B and his parents whenever Bs parents request it. However, a 30 minute drive was asking far too much of such young and fragile children. When I argued that point they would use other excuses why they would not be bringing my children to see me. Once again I felt powerless and like a bad mom, being paraded by my parents for not being more active in my kids lives, but when I tried to make the effort it was scorned and met with negativity.
I self isolated for awhile, but still tried to be apart of my children's lives.
Over the years I've brought up the custody agreement, pointing out that it was supposed to only be temporary. I think my parents got frustrated with this because once the girls started school, my mom pressured me to sign over full custody, claiming it would make filling out paperwork a lot easier on my parents. But it was still only temporary, supposedly. Again, I continued to press for custody back and I would be met with argument after argument, bombarded with all of my shortcomings. On multiple occasions my mom told me "if you take custody of the girls back it will destroy mine and your father's marriage. Some days the girls are the only thing keeping us together" I was also told "if you take custody back it will literally kill your father. He won't survive." A year or so ago I told my mom we needed to go to therapy because I could not speak to her without a mediator. She finally agreed and we had two sessions. The first of which she cried her eyes out, telling the therapist that she's always done her absolute best for us kids and that we never appreciate anything she's done for us. She said "I took on the responsibility of raising two young children while she was out there f*cking anyone and everyone she wanted" mind you, during the time frame she was talking about, I had one intimate partner. When I confronted her about it outside of the session she said "I said that to highlight the poor life choices you were making at the time"
Fast-forward to now, A and I have a good relationship, but she's closest to my dad over everyone. M and I still have an incredibly tight bond though. She tells me everything. I'm her best friend.
The things she's been telling me the last couple of years are bringing up a lot of PTSD and trauma for me from my childhood. It's been opening my eyes to the level of mental abuse I suffered at the hands of my parents.
At this point you're probably thinking what I thought for most of my life. "This girl's mom sounds like a monster" It wasn't until recently that my father's facade was irreversibly shattered in my eyes. M had come to me and asked "what would you say if I asked to be called unisex name". I told her "I wouldn't say anything. I'd just call you by the name you chose. I love you no matter what I call you. I will always love you no matter what. There's nothing in this world that will change that, especially not a name." In time M came to me and said "how would you react if I told you I like girls" I said "the same way I reacted when you wanted to change your name. I will always accept, support and love you, no matter what"
She had gone to my mom with the same questions and my mom had roughly the same response. My dad on the other hand had a much more viseral response. When the name was brought up, he hit the roof, yelling "I'm not having another kid try and change their name. That's stupid. You have a name." (L changed their name when they were in school and my father always hated it and still refuses to call L by their chosen name) When the topic of sexual preference was broached he'd just roll his eyes, huff and act like M was being stupid and childish. As I touched up on previously, M has severe panic attacks. I can relate because I also suffer from them and they were extremely bad around the same age that M is now. From things M had told me in passing I'm under the impression that she was being bullied at school. Every morning was a struggle. She would beg my parents to let her stay home. If it was up to my mom, she'd get frustrated and give in, saying "whatever. Do whatever you want. You do anyway. None of you ever listen to me or respect anything I say" and M would go lie in bed and call me crying that she "upset nana" If it were my dad however, he'd yell at her to get her @$$ in the car and that he wasn't dealing with her $ht. She would have full fledged panic attacks in the car to which he would yell and scream at her to knock off the teenage bllsh*t and to suck it up. One day he even threatened to institutionalize her if this behavior continued. She called me, mid breakdown, telling me everything that had happened and asked me "what even does that mean? Is he gonna lock me up in a psych ward because I'm having panic attacks?" I assured her that no one was doing any such thing. I then called my parents and tore into them for treating her like that. My skin was crawling, I was so appalled at his behavior.
He tries his best to mask his negativity and what I consider to be narcissistic tendencies. He went from being an angry alcoholic to being a sober helpful part of the church he attends. I told my mom recently that I believe he swapped one addiction for another. He portrays this happy healthy life and family all over social media, showing my kids off to the people at his church, claiming they're his kids. So much so to the point that I had attended a few services and people thought I was their sister, not their mom, because my dad refuses to refer to them as his grandchildren. He's even taken it so far as to claim that he BIRTHED them. I don't know what level of psychosis it takes for a man to claim that he carried two children in his womb, but that's besides the point.
Also to Ms detriment, he will tease her about her weight, her eating habits, her sleeping habits. He will also make snide comments about LGBTQ+ related and adjacent topics.
L, had also suffered this same emotional and mental abuse for years from our dad and subsequently my mom who is too scared of my dad to stand up for her own beliefs. L finally made the difficult decision to go no contact for their mental health. This was extra difficult for them because that meant they had less access to their nieces and nephew, but they had to do what was best for their mental state and they took a step back. At one point my dad had brought L up, calling them by their dead name and misgendering them. When M corrected my dad he scoffed and said "people who change their names and gender are just people who weren't loved enough as a child" M responded with "k.." and went to her room to call me, explaining how incredibly offensive that statement was, especially seeing as how that's his own child. She said "who's fault is it if L wasn't loved enough as a child?" (She's extremely aware for her age)
I got a phone call from A one afternoon. She was crying and told me "I'm just sad because I'm never going to see L again because she abandoned us." I asked who told her that and she said "papa said dead name abandoned us because she doesn't care about the family anymore" I explained that none of that was true and that L missed them very much, and wanted to see them very much.
I spoke to L regularly about the situation at hand, being as supportive as possible while trying to stay out of the family drama. After months of distancing themselves from our parents, they came to me for help and guidance. They wanted to have dinner with our parents to try and mend their relationships. However they were scared of the response they would receive, so I offered to be the buffer and reach out on their behalf.
My mom's response was perfect. She said "I would love to have dinner with them. Tell me when and where" My dad's response was less ideal. He said "we would love to have dinner with her. If she's ready to respect our family and our beliefs we would be happy to have dinner with her" I lost it on him. I told him that I was sick and tired of his behavior. He puts on a holier than thou facade but he doesn't actually act very christ like in reality. I pointed out that when the prodigal son returned he wasn't met with "are you ready to ahere to our rules and regulations now? Are you prepared to act the way that we want you to? If you are then you can come home, but if not, get out" he was welcomed home with open arms, regardless of anything he had done or said. He replied with "I had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have responded to that text. I should've listened to that gut instinct"
I've gone no contact with him since that argument, but as you can imagine, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
On mother's day, my dad was out of town but my girls went to church with my mom. There was a guest speaker who had an extremely antitrans message. The way my mom explained it was "if your kid comes out as trans, you're a failure as a mom" I was dumbfounded to hear that they'd have a message like that at all, but especially on mother's day, shaming parents, but specifically mom's, into rejecting their children's self identification, as if one person has control over another person's identity. M told me she didn't ever want to go back. I told her I understood and I'd do my best to make sure she didn't have to.
Today is my birthday and my girls are coming over. M texted me this morning saying "I'm getting ready for church. I was told that if I wanted to go to my mom's house, I had to go to church first" This used to be a place that she felt safe and happy in and now it's become a place of contention for her. She'll ask my mom if she can stay home (never my dad) and although my mom usually caves and lets her stay home, it's always with some stipulation.
My dad is a controlling, manipulative, homophobic, close minded fraud of a Christian who is emotionally and mentally harming and abusing my children, and my mom isn't much safer for either of them, always siding with my dad out of fear and exhaustion.
I desperately want to remove them from this situation and regain full custody but I don't know where to start. I work two jobs in order to make ends meet. I'm behind on my rent. I have to take buses and Ubers everywhere I go. I have a very small two bedroom apartment (the girls each have their own rooms at my parents house). They have friends and a sense of community where they are, with a nice sized backyard, a trampoline, two of my three siblings are close by so they get to see their cousins daily. I don't want to rip them away from the only home they've known for years. I don't want to uproot them and disrupt the little amount of structure they do have. I don't even know how I would manage two jobs as well as a 10 and a 12 year old, but I also don't want to leave them in this toxic suffocating and damaging environment when all along I thought it was a better and safer environment for them than what I had to offer.
I feel like I'm still brainwashed to some extent by my parents, second guessing my abilities as a mom. Telling myself I'm not capable of the things I need to do for these girls. I'm at a loss for what to do at this point. Do I fight for custody back? Do I leave them as they are? Do I continue to try and advocate for them even though it either falls on deaf ears or makes matters so much worse, because that frustration is then taken out on my kids?
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Backstory: I was diagnosed with epilepsy when I was 13 years old, although some doctors believe I'd been having seizures since I was as young as 6 or 7. I was also diagnosed with manic depression/bipolar disorder when I was 16.
At 21 I gave birth to my first daughter, M. A little under two years later I had my second daughter, A. The first pregnancy wasn't easy and I had a lot of seizures during the course of the pregnancy. Many trips to the hospital to make sure baby was safe. But after I gave birth I jumped straight into motherhood. I lived roughly 4 hours away from my parents and struggled with feeling homesick frequently. I called my dad daily for parenting advice, to vent, to update him, and also to help subside that homesick feeling. Regardless though, I was a very attentive and active mom. I spent all of my time with M. She was my best friend. I LOVED being a mom and I was THRIVING. After M turned 1, I moved back "home" and moved back in with my parents. My second pregnancy was much the same. Uncomfortable pregnancy, many seizures. However with this pregnancy I had some complications that caused A to be born 10 weeks early. This caused A to spend the first several months of her life in the nicu and even had to have gastral intestinal surgery before she was even 4 months old. Due to my epilepsy I do not drive, but I did everything I could in my power to see my A as frequently and for as long as I could. Visiting hours were somewhat restricting though.
At some point in time I started displaying symptoms of postpartum depression that was heavily exasperated by my manic depression. I was at an all time low. The physical pain of a depression that immense had crippled me. I felt like I had concrete in my veins. Just getting up and going to the bathroom was an exhausting task. I spent most of my days sleeping as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. Thankfully I lived with my parents, my younger daughters father (J), and some of my sisters. I would say I had plenty of help and support, but a more accurate statement would be "the children were looked after". I on the other hand was mocked, teased and belittled at every opportunity. At the time I thought nothing of it. I thought "that's just how my family is" I was raised with the motto "the more I tease you, the more I love you". Before my dad knew I was pregnant (I kept it a secret for 18 weeks because J was pressuring me to get an unwanted abortion.) my dad pointed to my stomach one morning and said "you know, some situps would help with that" I was devastated, already feeling fat and disgusting, and went to my room to cry.
Without me even realizing it, the negative comments and belittling nature of my family took a toll on me and I was getting deeper and deeper into my depression without a light at the end of the tunnel. I HATED myself for not being able to get up and play with my children. I couldn't understand how I could be so active and attentive with M at that age but I just didn't have it in me for A. I felt like I'd failed her in so many ways. I tried my best to find solutions to the problem. Often times I'd try to find games to play with them that involved me lying or at least sitting on the couch. Puzzles, coloring, movies, cars. Anything low impact, but kids want to run and play and be active.. I felt like the worst mom of all times and I wasn't being told differently by those around me. In fact my greatest fears were being confirmed daily. One day I finally broke and had a full mental breakdown in front of my mom. I had confessed to my mom that I was having suicidal idealations. I knew deep down I didn't want to end my life, but I wanted the pain to stop. I couldn't breathe under the weight of my depression and I desperately needed help. I sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, confessing all of my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings at that time. My mom, in my opinion, brushed me off and said "well look into counseling or something" and then walked away, while I stayed sitting against our front door, crying my heart out. I felt devastated. All I wanted was a hug and some comfort but it was clear I was barking up the wrong tree. I got myself together, went upstairs, and went to sleep in order to escape the heartbreak and numb myself again. This entire timeline is a blur to me, so I'm not sure how much time passed between my melt down and this next conversation, but I feel like it was less than a week when my mom sat me down to have a conversation about the girls.
She suggested to me that my parents take temporary custody of the girls until I was able to "get on my feet". She kept pushing this narrative that it was what was best for the girls and their safety. She used my epilepsy as an excuse. Telling me that it was unsafe for the girls to be under my care when my epilepsy was so unpredictable. She also used my mental health, feeding into all of my fears and my own perceived shortcomings. A decent way into the conversation, my dad joined us. His whole demeanor radiated "this is a waste of my time. Just do what we say so I can go do other things" but maybe that was me reading too deeply into his behavior. Once he sat down it felt like my mom leaned even deeper into this narrative that they were clearly the better option for the girls wellbeing, but it would only be for a short time and that they were mainly concerned with the girls quality of life. I really struggled with what to do. I already felt like I was failing my children because I was so mentally and emotionally drained and detached. I didn't want to abandon them or lose them, but I also didn't want to harm them in the ways I had been harmed growing up. I figured my mom knew best because she had been in my shoes for all of my childhood. The vast majority of memories I have of my mom are of her sleeping on the couch, or raging out over the most minuscule things. I didn't want my children raised like that... So reluctantly, I agreed, truly believing I was doing a selfless thing and putting my children first. (This would later be used against me at every opportunity) I signed a piece of computer paper that my mom had scribbled an agreement on, stating that I was signing over temporary custody of my kids to my parents, with the understanding that I would get full custody back at an undisclosed time.
One day while I was down the road at a friend's house, my mom called me frantic, demanding I get home immediately. I rushed up to the house to find out that A's dad, J, had her wrapped in three blankets, in her car seat (it's the only place she would sleep). She was drenched in sweat (apparently new borns aren't supposed to sweat, especially not that much) and she was crying hysterically due to discomfort. J was irate, screaming at her and aggressively shaking the car seat. My mom said she heard him scream "shut the fck up or I'm going to *unalive you". She was under the impression that him and I were arguing again, and had come to break up the fight. (This always seemed odd to me seeing as how she never once intervened in our arguments before) When she realized I wasn't home and he was talking to A, she grabbed A and went downstairs. As she walked down the hall, j punched a hole in the wall near her head. He claimed he was "only trying to scare her" because she was "stealing his child from him" I was outraged and mortified. I tried multiple times to leave him and kick him out, but I had no support from my family. At one point I even resorted to packing up all of his belongings and throwing them out on the lawn. I'm not proud of that but I felt I had no other choice, and rushed to lock the doors when he went to get his things. My sister promptly unlocked the door and let him back in, claiming I was "acting psychotic" I felt trapped... But I had grown up around this behavior. My dad was an angry drunk and I had grown up believing that those behaviors were "passion" rather than aggression. So I accepted my fait and went on as if nothing had happened, certain that this would be the rest of my life.
One day when J was driving me to work we got into an argument and he repeatedly told me "your dad was right. You should do the world a favor and just unalive yourself. Everyone would be a lot happier" he kept repeating it over and over until I finally had it. He pulled up to a stop sign and I got out of the car and started walking down the road. He immediately started freaking out, begging me to get back in the car, using everything he could think of to manipulate me into getting back into the car. I finally caved and got back in. J dropped me off at work and as I got out of the car I told him "we're over. I'm breaking up with you". I closed the door before he could say a word and walked into work feeling like I was on cloud 9. It felt like all of my troubles had been wiped away. When I got inside, I told a friend what happened and explained that I didn't want to go home that night because I knew a guilt trip was waiting for me when I got there. I knew there would be an argument that would last hours and I would finally break due to exhaustion and would inevitably take him back. My coworker seemed to understand and let me stay at his house as long as I needed.
I called my mom and told her what had happened. I begged and pleaded with her to kick J out, but she refused. She was concerned that he'd try to take A if she kicked him out. I told her I was certain he wouldn't. He only ever cared about himself and his own self preservation. A baby would only make things harder for him and it was a responsibility and a role he didn't even want in the first place. I told her J had spent 18 weeks pressuring me to abort A and was evening willing to drive me out of state to get the procedure done, until I finally put my foot down and told him no, I was keeping my baby. I stayed away for 2 full weeks, the entire time begging and pleading with my family. Pointing out his abusive tendencies and his history with verbal and physical abuse and outbursts. My mom held her ground and refused to help me in any capacity. Every time M asked where I was, my mom would say "your mom's at work" rather than have her call me and talk to me. This created a lot of psychological trauma for M. She had severe seperstion anxiety, having panic attacks any time someone had to leave the house, convinced that if they left they'd never return. Still to this day she has abandonment issues as well as severe panic attacks.
After two weeks, I started coming over for visits but I never moved back in. During this time, J informed me that he was talking to another girl. He made it abundantly clear that she was 16. He was roughly 25 or 26 at the time. I later found out that they weren't talking. In fact, she had a boyfriend who was age appropriate, but J had been going and telling their entire friend group that they had been messing around together. I was then informed by my younger sibling L, that J had made advances on her that she quickly shut down. I think she was roughly 18 at the time. When this didn't pan out and J didn't get the reactions he expected from myself or L, he moved on. Years later I was told the same time xact story by both J and my oldest sister Al. "We had been hanging out, drinking, smoking. Ya know, the usual. And then well... Because I was so inebriated, they took advantage of me and we slept together" Knowing the both of them well enough, I knew it was consensual and they were just embarrassed and scared of my reaction. I laughed and told them they deserved one another.
As you can imagine, J's questionable life choices caught up with him and he was rejected from every friend group he had, to the point where he left the state and broke all contact with myself, and my family. It was a weight off my shoulders when he was finally gone. At that point I had gotten my own apartment but it was the first time I lived alone, paying my own bills, and I was not good at it. I was missing bill payments left and right. My power was shut off in the middle of winter and before long I was evicted. I was homeless and asked my parents if I could move home. They said no, that it would be too confusing for the girls if I moved back in with them. I ended up staying with friends on the couch in a one bedroom. It was extremely uncomfortable, but I had a roof over my head. When their lease was up, they invited me to get a new place with them. I agreed and I started learning about finances and how to be a functioning part of society.
My parents said I was welcome to visit the girls any time I wanted, but when I'd ask, it was a whole ordeal and guilt trip because they had to come pick me up and refused to bring my kids to my place. They said the car ride was too much for the girls to handle. Mind you, Ms dad B, still lives 4 hours away. My parents regularly drive both of my daughters up to see B and his parents whenever Bs parents request it. However, a 30 minute drive was asking far too much of such young and fragile children. When I argued that point they would use other excuses why they would not be bringing my children to see me. Once again I felt powerless and like a bad mom, being paraded by my parents for not being more active in my kids lives, but when I tried to make the effort it was scorned and met with negativity.
I self isolated for awhile, but still tried to be apart of my children's lives.
Over the years I've brought up the custody agreement, pointing out that it was supposed to only be temporary. I think my parents got frustrated with this because once the girls started school, my mom pressured me to sign over full custody, claiming it would make filling out paperwork a lot easier on my parents. But it was still only temporary, supposedly. Again, I continued to press for custody back and I would be met with argument after argument, bombarded with all of my shortcomings. On multiple occasions my mom told me "if you take custody of the girls back it will destroy mine and your father's marriage. Some days the girls are the only thing keeping us together" I was also told "if you take custody back it will literally kill your father. He won't survive." A year or so ago I told my mom we needed to go to therapy because I could not speak to her without a mediator. She finally agreed and we had two sessions. The first of which she cried her eyes out, telling the therapist that she's always done her absolute best for us kids and that we never appreciate anything she's done for us. She said "I took on the responsibility of raising two young children while she was out there f*cking anyone and everyone she wanted" mind you, during the time frame she was talking about, I had one intimate partner. When I confronted her about it outside of the session she said "I said that to highlight the poor life choices you were making at the time"
Fast-forward to now, A and I have a good relationship, but she's closest to my dad over everyone. M and I still have an incredibly tight bond though. She tells me everything. I'm her best friend.
The things she's been telling me the last couple of years are bringing up a lot of PTSD and trauma for me from my childhood. It's been opening my eyes to the level of mental abuse I suffered at the hands of my parents.
At this point you're probably thinking what I thought for most of my life. "This girl's mom sounds like a monster" It wasn't until recently that my father's facade was irreversibly shattered in my eyes. M had come to me and asked "what would you say if I asked to be called unisex name". I told her "I wouldn't say anything. I'd just call you by the name you chose. I love you no matter what I call you. I will always love you no matter what. There's nothing in this world that will change that, especially not a name." In time M came to me and said "how would you react if I told you I like girls" I said "the same way I reacted when you wanted to change your name. I will always accept, support and love you, no matter what"
She had gone to my mom with the same questions and my mom had roughly the same response. My dad on the other hand had a much more viseral response. When the name was brought up, he hit the roof, yelling "I'm not having another kid try and change their name. That's stupid. You have a name." (L changed their name when they were in school and my father always hated it and still refuses to call L by their chosen name) When the topic of sexual preference was broached he'd just roll his eyes, huff and act like M was being stupid and childish. As I touched up on previously, M has severe panic attacks. I can relate because I also suffer from them and they were extremely bad around the same age that M is now. From things M had told me in passing I'm under the impression that she was being bullied at school. Every morning was a struggle. She would beg my parents to let her stay home. If it was up to my mom, she'd get frustrated and give in, saying "whatever. Do whatever you want. You do anyway. None of you ever listen to me or respect anything I say" and M would go lie in bed and call me crying that she "upset nana" If it were my dad however, he'd yell at her to get her @$$ in the car and that he wasn't dealing with her $ht. She would have full fledged panic attacks in the car to which he would yell and scream at her to knock off the teenage bllsh*t and to suck it up. One day he even threatened to institutionalize her if this behavior continued. She called me, mid breakdown, telling me everything that had happened and asked me "what even does that mean? Is he gonna lock me up in a psych ward because I'm having panic attacks?" I assured her that no one was doing any such thing. I then called my parents and tore into them for treating her like that. My skin was crawling, I was so appalled at his behavior.
He tries his best to mask his negativity and what I consider to be narcissistic tendencies. He went from being an angry alcoholic to being a sober helpful part of the church he attends. I told my mom recently that I believe he swapped one addiction for another. He portrays this happy healthy life and family all over social media, showing my kids off to the people at his church, claiming they're his kids. So much so to the point that I had attended a few services and people thought I was their sister, not their mom, because my dad refuses to refer to them as his grandchildren. He's even taken it so far as to claim that he BIRTHED them. I don't know what level of psychosis it takes for a man to claim that he carried two children in his womb, but that's besides the point.
Also to Ms detriment, he will tease her about her weight, her eating habits, her sleeping habits. He will also make snide comments about LGBTQ+ related and adjacent topics.
L, had also suffered this same emotional and mental abuse for years from our dad and subsequently my mom who is too scared of my dad to stand up for her own beliefs. L finally made the difficult decision to go no contact for their mental health. This was extra difficult for them because that meant they had less access to their nieces and nephew, but they had to do what was best for their mental state and they took a step back. At one point my dad had brought L up, calling them by their dead name and misgendering them. When M corrected my dad he scoffed and said "people who change their names and gender are just people who weren't loved enough as a child" M responded with "k.." and went to her room to call me, explaining how incredibly offensive that statement was, especially seeing as how that's his own child. She said "who's fault is it if L wasn't loved enough as a child?" (She's extremely aware for her age)
I got a phone call from A one afternoon. She was crying and told me "I'm just sad because I'm never going to see L again because she abandoned us." I asked who told her that and she said "papa said dead name abandoned us because she doesn't care about the family anymore" I explained that none of that was true and that L missed them very much, and wanted to see them very much.
I spoke to L regularly about the situation at hand, being as supportive as possible while trying to stay out of the family drama. After months of distancing themselves from our parents, they came to me for help and guidance. They wanted to have dinner with our parents to try and mend their relationships. However they were scared of the response they would receive, so I offered to be the buffer and reach out on their behalf.
My mom's response was perfect. She said "I would love to have dinner with them. Tell me when and where" My dad's response was less ideal. He said "we would love to have dinner with her. If she's ready to respect our family and our beliefs we would be happy to have dinner with her" I lost it on him. I told him that I was sick and tired of his behavior. He puts on a holier than thou facade but he doesn't actually act very christ like in reality. I pointed out that when the prodigal son returned he wasn't met with "are you ready to ahere to our rules and regulations now? Are you prepared to act the way that we want you to? If you are then you can come home, but if not, get out" he was welcomed home with open arms, regardless of anything he had done or said. He replied with "I had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have responded to that text. I should've listened to that gut instinct"
I've gone no contact with him since that argument, but as you can imagine, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
On mother's day, my dad was out of town but my girls went to church with my mom. There was a guest speaker who had an extremely antitrans message. The way my mom explained it was "if your kid comes out as trans, you're a failure as a mom" I was dumbfounded to hear that they'd have a message like that at all, but especially on mother's day, shaming parents, but specifically mom's, into rejecting their children's self identification, as if one person has control over another person's identity. M told me she didn't ever want to go back. I told her I understood and I'd do my best to make sure she didn't have to.
Today is my birthday and my girls are coming over. M texted me this morning saying "I'm getting ready for church. I was told that if I wanted to go to my mom's house, I had to go to church first" This used to be a place that she felt safe and happy in and now it's become a place of contention for her. She'll ask my mom if she can stay home (never my dad) and although my mom usually caves and lets her stay home, it's always with some stipulation.
My dad is a controlling, manipulative, homophobic, close minded fraud of a Christian who is emotionally and mentally harming and abusing my children, and my mom isn't much safer for either of them, always siding with my dad out of fear and exhaustion.
I desperately want to remove them from this situation and regain full custody but I don't know where to start. I work two jobs in order to make ends meet. I'm behind on my rent. I have to take buses and Ubers everywhere I go. I have a very small two bedroom apartment (the girls each have their own rooms at my parents house). They have friends and a sense of community where they are, with a nice sized backyard, a trampoline, two of my three siblings are close by so they get to see their cousins daily. I don't want to rip them away from the only home they've known for years. I don't want to uproot them and disrupt the little amount of structure they do have. I don't even know how I would manage two jobs as well as a 10 and a 12 year old, but I also don't want to leave them in this toxic suffocating and damaging environment when all along I thought it was a better and safer environment for them than what I had to offer.
I feel like I'm still brainwashed to some extent by my parents, second guessing my abilities as a mom. Telling myself I'm not capable of the things I need to do for these girls. I'm at a loss for what to do at this point. Do I fight for custody back? Do I leave them as they are? Do I continue to try and advocate for them even though it either falls on deaf ears or makes matters so much worse, because that frustration is then taken out on my kids?
2023.06.04 19:10 bedroomrockstar89 Some feature requests from someone who works in Logic >50hrs/week
So many of these seem like no-brainers! I really hope they can implement some of these in the near future, it would make my life so much easier :)
submitted by bedroomrockstar89 to Logic_Studio [link] [comments]
- Ability to Copy Sends to other channels with option - click and drag
- Fader pop up for sends when adjusting them rather just the tiny wheel
- Simplify Buffer Sizes like LUNA (Small, Medium, Large) or even just have the buffer change automatically depending on how much processing power is needed
- Quantize Audio like LUNA
- Searchable plugins and auto categorize them (There is a plugin that does this called plug search by speaker food maybe you could buy them out and make it a built in feature)
- Auto Clip Gain Sections within Audio Regions (Similar to Melodyne function “make louder notes quite and quiet notes louder, could function like strip silence does)
- Set Defaults for all projects in preferences (preferred sample rates, asset management, how to handle take folders etc) so that you don’t need to make specific templates to make sure all projects have consistent preferences
- Easier way to fade multiple audio regions. In LUNA, you can select multiple regions and simply use command-F to apply fades and crossfades to multiple regions
- Set default folder location for sessions, templates etc. When working from external hard drives it’s very annoying to have to click to find the specific folder you want to save your session to since it defaults to /music/logic. Same for templates
2023.06.04 19:10 tulpacat1 To Kill a Predator, Chapter 23
Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 30th, 2136
“Wait”. The voice is so sudden I don’t even realize it’s my own at first.
Mosun looks up at me, confused. I’m confused too. Thiva’s right in there. I want to storm in, but there’s something wrong, there’s
A recording of a crying baby
I shake my head and step back, motioning for him to follow me.
Another scream echoes through the hall. Mosun swallows, but lets go of the handle.
Think. You’re in charge of a bunch of terrorists all gung-ho to go Helter Skelter on humanity. You’re a sadistic alien psychopath. You mutilate animals. You keep trophies. You don’t give a damn about your sister. You kill humans. Your tools for that are firebombs that go off when they open doors, and recordings of vulnerable things in distress.
But why here? Why set the trap here? Taking her to a second location makes more sense. Why your base, or this close to it? Why are you luring the human here?
It’s not because he’s here too soon. You expected the warpath right away. You know their empathy and protective instincts overrides their rationality. You might not have expected him to gather a posse, but you know the humans are social animals. You had to know it was a possibility.
So why… Here…
Mosun whispers. “Martin, what’s the matter? Why aren’t we going in?”
There’s something I’m missing. Think. Think! You were happy to get the first human kills while you weren’t even in the area. You might’ve placed the traps or had your mooks do it but either way you were fine with being absent when they went off. Why is this time different?
It’s because the humans were gathered in one place, isn’t it? The fire wasn’t about killing us. It was about scattering us and leaving us solitary enough to hunt. Or maybe... Maybe it didn’t satisfy, didn’t scratch that itch. No trophies, no mutilations.
Because you are a predator. An ambush predator. You want to be close to the trap, like a spider. You want to look the human in the eyes as he dies, and take something to remember the kill by.
You’re here, somewhere.
I swallow, and look at the door. It slides open, like almost all Venlil doors.
Alright, time to Human.
I take the strap to my rifle, and gingerly unsling it from the weapon. I grab one of my last zip ties and loop it around the handle, and in the buckle of the strap.
Mosun flicks his ear in a Venlil-esque sign for understanding and agreement at once, and moves down the hallway. I follow him.
The strap and zip-tie together are perhaps two meters in length, so with a bit of an annoyed grunt I take off my belt and add that to the makeshift rope. That gives me a little under a meter extra.
I hand the rifle to Mosun, and hold a hand up to him while clutching the rope in the other.
Three. Two. One.
I close my eyes and turn away in one single motion, tugging at the door handle. As soon as the door parts from the frame there’s a blast, sending me and Mosun to the ground. The air stinks of wood-pulp, smoke, and dust.
Jesus Christ!!
My ears are ringing as I get on my unsteady feet and grasp the rifle from Mosun, stumbling my way to the ruined doorway and peering inside.
The room is empty but for shrapnel and debris and a cloud of dust. None of it looks like it was alive.
Oh thank God, the bastards weren’t using live bait.
With the high-pitched ringing slowly subsiding I take a few steps down the hall, before falling to one knee from disorientation.
I don’t hear the Exterminator storm up the stairs. But I see them just fine.
The visor’s reflective. The armor’s bulky. The flamethrower’s lit.
With Mosun behind me in the small hallway, there’s nowhere to run. No time to think.
This isn’t aiming at someone’s back, or a sleeping and prone body. I don’t have time to hesitate, so I don’t.
I start shooting from the hip and raise the gun to my shoulder while firing. The weapon jumps in my hand with each pull of the trigger, and from my awkward stance I have quantity stand in for quality. Wood splinters fly from the wall behind the Exterminator, who jerks as some of the shots strike true.
After swaying for a second and losing their grip on their flamethrower, they tumble right down the stairs. The weapon clatters down after them, connected to their fuel tank.
I get to my feet and try to rush over to the stairs. I slam into the wall for my trouble, but get my bearings and raise the rifle.
The Exterminator’s laying prone at the foot of the stairs. They stir weakly and move a paw toward their weapon.
I fire another salvo of rounds. The sound echoes and makes my ears hurt even worse than the blast already did. The Exterminator jerks a couple of times, lets out a shuddering breath, and then goes still.
They’re dead. This is it. I killed someone.
I expect it to hit me like a sledgehammer. I expect to end up doubled over, hurling my guts out. That’s what you always see in the movies.
Instead my response is as anticlimactic as the killing itself: I just hope it was Renak.
I feel Mosun’s hand on my back. He speaks with quiet sympathy. “…Are you alright?”
I sigh slowly. “Yeah… Yeah. Predator, remember?”
Some of his usual energy creeps back into his voice. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to say it.”
We head down the stairs while I fiddle with my makeshift rope to restore my belt and rifle sling to their proper places. The sling needs to be tied into a knot to be put to use, as the buckle is beyond saving. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll break down later, but for now we have a- MOVE!!”
I see a cylinder about half the size of a Pringles can roll into the room, and push Mosun forcibly into the kitchen. To his credit he doesn’t question it, instead lunging past me.
Instead of a pipe bomb blast as I had feared, the grenade starts leaking thick white smoke.
They don’t have CS gas and that thing looked homemade. So probably phosphorous.
I look around the kitchen desperately before finding a salad bowl in the dishes. I immediately turn the faucet to full blast to fill the bowl with water while the hissing grenade spreads its noxious fumes. I can start to smell and taste the acrid, garlic-like stench. My body starts coughing, my eyes watering and lungs itching.
Yeah. Phosphorous. Fuck.
Mosun coughs a few times and tries to cover his mouth with his arm. “What are you d-doing?!”
As soon as there’s enough water in the bowl, I turn around and lunge at the grenade. Using an awkward double-handed dunking motion, I trust centripetal force to make it work as I flip the water-filled bowl and slam it down around the grenade.
There’s a mess of sloshing, and a lot of hissing, but no more gas escapes. Water slowly starts to leak out from the bowl’s edges, but by the time it’s done it’ll have stopped the reaction.
“Mosun, w-wash your… Oh FUCK OFF!!”
Halfway through my statement I see another Exterminator enter the room. They step over their fellow’s body without a glance and raise their flamethrower toward us.
I raise my rifle in turn and begin firing: three shots in rapid succession.
Before I’ve had time to adjust my aim they’ve already disappeared from view down the hallway beside the stairs, long tail visible for a split second before vanishing. I’ve never seen a Venlil move as sinuously and quickly as that.
I cough a couple of times and wipe my eyes. It doesn’t help. When Mosun appears with a glass of water however, I can dump it directly onto my face. My stinging eyes cry out with relief.
After just a few seconds of exposure to the gas, I’d love a date with an eyewash station. But it’ll have to wait.
Mosun takes the lead wordlessly, motioning with a paw for me to follow. So I do, stepping over my kill in the process. Unlike the Exterminator, I can’t help but look down at it.
There’s so much less blood than I expected.
As Mosun rounds the corner into the next room, he’s forced into an awkward duck against the doorway as a stun rod swishes through the air. He kicks out at the assailant with a growl, and lunges forward into the other room.
I follow as quickly as I can.
In the living room, the two are already locked in a brawl. Mosun’s shorter than the Exterminator, and has less range.
I make a guess and try to distract them. If the Yotul gives me some distance I can shoot. “Renak!”
The Exterminator freezes for a split second, and Mosun gets a good kick in.
Guess that’s you then, motherfucker.
Renak rolls with the kick and manages to get Mosun’s leg caught in his arm. The stun rod swings down, and Mosun’s forced to block it with his arm. The electricity courses through him and he gasps out, dropping to a knee.
Without a good angle, I drop the rifle and trust my sling to keep it from hitting the ground. Instead I charge in to join the fray.
With a wild and poorly planned left hook, I manage to get Renak to take a single step back. Enough for Mosun to rise to unsteady legs. The little badass weaves a few times as he moves into an elegant-looking stance. “Ambush, ambush, ambush. You only know the one trick, huh?”
In response, Renak drops into his own stance. The stun rod’s held in one paw, high near his shoulder. The other paw’s held outward in a warding gesture.
Feeling left out, I get into a boxer’s stance. Though all this excitement’s making the wounds on my right arm ache and act up.
The three of us are still for a moment. “…There’s just you left, Renak. Your terrorist group’s done for.” Technically there’s one other Exterminator left unaccounted for. But I don’t see a reason to tell him that.
He tilts his head toward me for a second. I see myself reflected in the visor.
Mosun’s the first to move, lunging in low. I charge in right after. Renak doesn’t step back, instead swinging the rod down.
Mosun leans back so far he’s almost prone, using his tail and one arm as leverage to kick up at Renak’s arm and stop the descending blow. The movement is beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place in some sort of Capoeira. By all rights it should break the arm, but the heavy Exterminator armor takes most of the force.
I come in with my own simple straight punch with my left, but I overextend and Renak swats it aside sharply with his own free arm. Instead of relenting, I jab with my right. I catch him on the shoulder and do little damage.
Renak shifts his stance and raises his baton to swing it downward at me. Mosun moves to intercept, but Renak’s leg lashes out and catches Mosun’s knee from the side. The swing that was coming my way turns into a descending thrust at the Yotul, who gets the baton jabbed straight into his torso.
Mosun’s shriek fills the room as he thrashes under the coruscating electrical blow, and I strike Renak with everything I’ve got in a desperate and unrefined haymaker.
I catch the bastard right in the visor and hear a loud sound. It hurts. Renak staggers back with a yelp, dropping the stun rod, and turns to look squarely at me. I’ve cracked his visor, and probably broken a finger or two in the bargain.
I stare for the length of a breath at the cracks in the reflective surface, seeing my own rage reflected in a dozen fractured images.
Renak calmly reaches behind him and pulls out his sidearm. He doesn’t even glance aside as he extends his arm and puts two bullets into Mosun. The gunshots echo in the enclosed space.
“NO!!” I hear myself shouting as I fumble for my rifle. Renak turns his arm toward me and fires again. I hear the crack and a whistle as a bullet flies right past my head.
A second bullet whizzes past and strikes the door frame, tumbling past with a ricochet whine. It missed only because I’m falling to one knee.
With my own rifle raised, I return fire. We’re firing at each other from mere feet away. I fire three times. I miss the first shot, but the second hits him in the thigh. The third takes him in the side somewhere.
He’s spun around, but empties the gun in my direction as he staggers into a dash out of the room, toward the basement.
It’s only when I rise to my feet that I realize I’ve been shot too. My left leg burns, and can’t carry my weight. I awkwardly hop over to Mosun and kneel to investigate his wounds.
His collarbone’s been shattered by one bullet. Another has caught him on the inside of the shoulder. I don’t know Yotul anatomy, but I’m guessing if it’s caught a lung or an artery he’s in real trouble. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone here; you’re the only one I can talk to.”
He takes a slow breath and doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He simply looks at me and plainly says “Ow.”
I can breathe again. The wound’s leaking, but not spurting. Oh thank God.
“Christ, okay, we gotta get you out of here. I don’t think it’s immediately fatal, but the blood loss is gonna get you if we don’t stop it.”
“Later. Get him, then help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t just-”
He swats at me with his good arm. “Not safe to extract. And still need the girl.”
I look around and end up taking a blanket folded over the couch and handing it to him. “Press this into the wounds, as hard as you can. I’ll be back.”
“Y-You better be. I’ll be upset if you m-make me walk back to the truck on my own.”
I get up and grasp my rifle, and limp my way after Renak.
Unless he’s got another ambush planned in the basement, Thiva is his last chance. And the bastard knows it.
I make my way down the basement steps, but it’s slow going. I have to use my injured right arm to brace myself, holding the rifle ahead with the left. My adrenaline’s starting to go down enough that the leg is starting to really hurt. So’s my left hand.
At the foot of the stairs, Renak’s discarded the helmet. The room contains several boxes of explosives, and flamethrowers.
Their weapons stores. Great.
In the middle of the room there’s a chair. Bound to it is Thiva. She’s got cuts and bruises over her body, and her beautiful fur is matted orange all over.
Behind her stands Renak. He’s got a knife to her throat.
I raise the rifle and stare right at Renak. “Let the girl go.”
Thiva gasps out as she sees me. “Martin!” She tries to lean forward, but the blade presses harder into her neck and she shrinks back into the chair.
Renak stares back at me, head-on and with both eyes. When he speaks, his voice is emotionless and without inflection. He sounds bored. “Move a muscle, predator, and Thiva dies.”
I look at my friend. She looks terrified. “Hey Thiva, don’t worry. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
She gives the tiniest nod.
Renak growls. “Look at me, predator.”
My eyes shift back to his again. They’re dull and empty. Just black beads of glass set into his face. It’s like looking at a machine. A complex structure, but no soul animating it.
My leg is trembling, and I feel hot and sticky blood running down it. “You don’t need the girl. You can just let her go, and we can leave, and nobody else needs to die.”
He blinks slowly. “My sister is better off dead than as a predator’s mate. If I can’t save her body from you, I can save her honor.” To emphasize his point, he lets the knife dig further into her throat. I see some orange running down it, and the fur beneath Thiva’s eyes are damp with tears.
My breathing is heavy, and my aim is shaky. “I stormed a terrorist compound to get this far. I’m not leaving without her. You can have her over my dead body.”
He stares silently for a moment. “Fair enough.”
He raises his other arm toward me with a smooth and mechanical motion. His sidearm is in it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet takes him in the head. With his strings cut, he drops in a heap.
I drop the rifle and rush forward to undo Thiva’s bindings. As soon as I do, her arms fly around me painfully tightly. I return the hug as best I can.
“Thiva, listen to me. Can you walk?”
She gets up and winces, but nods. “Y-yeah.”
“Okay, good. There’s a Yotul upstairs named Mosun. He needs immediate medical attention. We’ve got a truck waiting, we’re gonna head up and get both of you out there.”
One of her eyes suddenly moves up and stares behind me. I turn in place.
Vansi’s standing in stairway, taking in the scene.
“Thiva… Go. Now. Now!” I rise to my feet and put a hand on her back, walking alongside her for a few steps before she rushes the rest of the way past her mother and up the stairs.
Vansi doesn’t move to stop her. She just stares at the crumpled corpse behind us.
It’s only after I take another step that her eyes snap to me with fury.
And I realize my rifle’s right at her feet.
She snatches it up into trembling paws and aims it right at me.
“Vansi, listen, I-”
The weapon goes off.
I fall to my knees. My hands reach my stomach and feel sticky and wet.
She pulls the trigger again, and it clicks dry. She pulls another few times, but it’s empty.
I rise to my feet and try to lunge past her. But she simply swings the empty rifle at me. It hits my wounded stomach, and I fall to my side. She swings it down on me several more times, snarling and cursing, until the weapon breaks enough that she simply tosses what’s left aside.
It hurts. Jesus Christ it hurts so fucking bad.
I try to think of a way out of this as she staggers past me toward her son. I try to get to my feet again, but fail. I drag myself to the wall, and use it to pull myself up bit by bit. I limp along the wall, smearing trails of my own blood with my hands as I go.
I’m almost at the stairs when I hear an inarticulate scream and feel agony blooming out from my right side. I look down and see the knife, in Vansi’s paws.
Fuck.
I collapse on the ground and try to fend her off with my hands. She stabs me straight through the palm of my right hand, then stabs twice more at my left arm and shoulder. My left arm doesn’t respond to my signals, simply flopping down limply.
With only one chance left, I punch her with my right. Again and again, while she stabs at my torso.
There’s a cold math to blood loss. The more you lose, the weaker you get.
‘So you see, that's how I am going to die.’
Each of my blows does less than the last. My hands and feet feel ice cold, while my chest burns.
‘I'll sneeze in the sunlight, or turn my head a bit too fast when someone wants my attention from my blind spot’
Before long I can’t fight back. I simply lay still and hear my flesh tearing and Vansi screaming in my ears.
‘or show happiness with a smile or a laugh’
I can’t lift a finger or even turn my head as Vansi staggers off of me. My shallow breaths are agony, and I can feel one of my lungs has collapsed.
‘or god forbid I might try to save a life again.’
She returns with something else in her hands. I close my eyes.
‘And then someone like your son will show up and burn me alive for it.’
/// ERROR /// Memory transcription fragmented /// Subject no longer conscious.
---
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submitted by tulpacat1 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 30th, 2136
“Wait”. The voice is so sudden I don’t even realize it’s my own at first.
Mosun looks up at me, confused. I’m confused too. Thiva’s right in there. I want to storm in, but there’s something wrong, there’s
A recording of a crying baby
I shake my head and step back, motioning for him to follow me.
Another scream echoes through the hall. Mosun swallows, but lets go of the handle.
Think. You’re in charge of a bunch of terrorists all gung-ho to go Helter Skelter on humanity. You’re a sadistic alien psychopath. You mutilate animals. You keep trophies. You don’t give a damn about your sister. You kill humans. Your tools for that are firebombs that go off when they open doors, and recordings of vulnerable things in distress.
But why here? Why set the trap here? Taking her to a second location makes more sense. Why your base, or this close to it? Why are you luring the human here?
It’s not because he’s here too soon. You expected the warpath right away. You know their empathy and protective instincts overrides their rationality. You might not have expected him to gather a posse, but you know the humans are social animals. You had to know it was a possibility.
So why… Here…
Mosun whispers. “Martin, what’s the matter? Why aren’t we going in?”
There’s something I’m missing. Think. Think! You were happy to get the first human kills while you weren’t even in the area. You might’ve placed the traps or had your mooks do it but either way you were fine with being absent when they went off. Why is this time different?
It’s because the humans were gathered in one place, isn’t it? The fire wasn’t about killing us. It was about scattering us and leaving us solitary enough to hunt. Or maybe... Maybe it didn’t satisfy, didn’t scratch that itch. No trophies, no mutilations.
Because you are a predator. An ambush predator. You want to be close to the trap, like a spider. You want to look the human in the eyes as he dies, and take something to remember the kill by.
You’re here, somewhere.
I swallow, and look at the door. It slides open, like almost all Venlil doors.
Alright, time to Human.
I take the strap to my rifle, and gingerly unsling it from the weapon. I grab one of my last zip ties and loop it around the handle, and in the buckle of the strap.
Mosun flicks his ear in a Venlil-esque sign for understanding and agreement at once, and moves down the hallway. I follow him.
The strap and zip-tie together are perhaps two meters in length, so with a bit of an annoyed grunt I take off my belt and add that to the makeshift rope. That gives me a little under a meter extra.
I hand the rifle to Mosun, and hold a hand up to him while clutching the rope in the other.
Three. Two. One.
I close my eyes and turn away in one single motion, tugging at the door handle. As soon as the door parts from the frame there’s a blast, sending me and Mosun to the ground. The air stinks of wood-pulp, smoke, and dust.
Jesus Christ!!
My ears are ringing as I get on my unsteady feet and grasp the rifle from Mosun, stumbling my way to the ruined doorway and peering inside.
The room is empty but for shrapnel and debris and a cloud of dust. None of it looks like it was alive.
Oh thank God, the bastards weren’t using live bait.
With the high-pitched ringing slowly subsiding I take a few steps down the hall, before falling to one knee from disorientation.
I don’t hear the Exterminator storm up the stairs. But I see them just fine.
The visor’s reflective. The armor’s bulky. The flamethrower’s lit.
With Mosun behind me in the small hallway, there’s nowhere to run. No time to think.
This isn’t aiming at someone’s back, or a sleeping and prone body. I don’t have time to hesitate, so I don’t.
I start shooting from the hip and raise the gun to my shoulder while firing. The weapon jumps in my hand with each pull of the trigger, and from my awkward stance I have quantity stand in for quality. Wood splinters fly from the wall behind the Exterminator, who jerks as some of the shots strike true.
After swaying for a second and losing their grip on their flamethrower, they tumble right down the stairs. The weapon clatters down after them, connected to their fuel tank.
I get to my feet and try to rush over to the stairs. I slam into the wall for my trouble, but get my bearings and raise the rifle.
The Exterminator’s laying prone at the foot of the stairs. They stir weakly and move a paw toward their weapon.
I fire another salvo of rounds. The sound echoes and makes my ears hurt even worse than the blast already did. The Exterminator jerks a couple of times, lets out a shuddering breath, and then goes still.
They’re dead. This is it. I killed someone.
I expect it to hit me like a sledgehammer. I expect to end up doubled over, hurling my guts out. That’s what you always see in the movies.
Instead my response is as anticlimactic as the killing itself: I just hope it was Renak.
I feel Mosun’s hand on my back. He speaks with quiet sympathy. “…Are you alright?”
I sigh slowly. “Yeah… Yeah. Predator, remember?”
Some of his usual energy creeps back into his voice. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to say it.”
We head down the stairs while I fiddle with my makeshift rope to restore my belt and rifle sling to their proper places. The sling needs to be tied into a knot to be put to use, as the buckle is beyond saving. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll break down later, but for now we have a- MOVE!!”
I see a cylinder about half the size of a Pringles can roll into the room, and push Mosun forcibly into the kitchen. To his credit he doesn’t question it, instead lunging past me.
Instead of a pipe bomb blast as I had feared, the grenade starts leaking thick white smoke.
They don’t have CS gas and that thing looked homemade. So probably phosphorous.
I look around the kitchen desperately before finding a salad bowl in the dishes. I immediately turn the faucet to full blast to fill the bowl with water while the hissing grenade spreads its noxious fumes. I can start to smell and taste the acrid, garlic-like stench. My body starts coughing, my eyes watering and lungs itching.
Yeah. Phosphorous. Fuck.
Mosun coughs a few times and tries to cover his mouth with his arm. “What are you d-doing?!”
As soon as there’s enough water in the bowl, I turn around and lunge at the grenade. Using an awkward double-handed dunking motion, I trust centripetal force to make it work as I flip the water-filled bowl and slam it down around the grenade.
There’s a mess of sloshing, and a lot of hissing, but no more gas escapes. Water slowly starts to leak out from the bowl’s edges, but by the time it’s done it’ll have stopped the reaction.
“Mosun, w-wash your… Oh FUCK OFF!!”
Halfway through my statement I see another Exterminator enter the room. They step over their fellow’s body without a glance and raise their flamethrower toward us.
I raise my rifle in turn and begin firing: three shots in rapid succession.
Before I’ve had time to adjust my aim they’ve already disappeared from view down the hallway beside the stairs, long tail visible for a split second before vanishing. I’ve never seen a Venlil move as sinuously and quickly as that.
I cough a couple of times and wipe my eyes. It doesn’t help. When Mosun appears with a glass of water however, I can dump it directly onto my face. My stinging eyes cry out with relief.
After just a few seconds of exposure to the gas, I’d love a date with an eyewash station. But it’ll have to wait.
Mosun takes the lead wordlessly, motioning with a paw for me to follow. So I do, stepping over my kill in the process. Unlike the Exterminator, I can’t help but look down at it.
There’s so much less blood than I expected.
As Mosun rounds the corner into the next room, he’s forced into an awkward duck against the doorway as a stun rod swishes through the air. He kicks out at the assailant with a growl, and lunges forward into the other room.
I follow as quickly as I can.
In the living room, the two are already locked in a brawl. Mosun’s shorter than the Exterminator, and has less range.
I make a guess and try to distract them. If the Yotul gives me some distance I can shoot. “Renak!”
The Exterminator freezes for a split second, and Mosun gets a good kick in.
Guess that’s you then, motherfucker.
Renak rolls with the kick and manages to get Mosun’s leg caught in his arm. The stun rod swings down, and Mosun’s forced to block it with his arm. The electricity courses through him and he gasps out, dropping to a knee.
Without a good angle, I drop the rifle and trust my sling to keep it from hitting the ground. Instead I charge in to join the fray.
With a wild and poorly planned left hook, I manage to get Renak to take a single step back. Enough for Mosun to rise to unsteady legs. The little badass weaves a few times as he moves into an elegant-looking stance. “Ambush, ambush, ambush. You only know the one trick, huh?”
In response, Renak drops into his own stance. The stun rod’s held in one paw, high near his shoulder. The other paw’s held outward in a warding gesture.
Feeling left out, I get into a boxer’s stance. Though all this excitement’s making the wounds on my right arm ache and act up.
The three of us are still for a moment. “…There’s just you left, Renak. Your terrorist group’s done for.” Technically there’s one other Exterminator left unaccounted for. But I don’t see a reason to tell him that.
He tilts his head toward me for a second. I see myself reflected in the visor.
Mosun’s the first to move, lunging in low. I charge in right after. Renak doesn’t step back, instead swinging the rod down.
Mosun leans back so far he’s almost prone, using his tail and one arm as leverage to kick up at Renak’s arm and stop the descending blow. The movement is beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place in some sort of Capoeira. By all rights it should break the arm, but the heavy Exterminator armor takes most of the force.
I come in with my own simple straight punch with my left, but I overextend and Renak swats it aside sharply with his own free arm. Instead of relenting, I jab with my right. I catch him on the shoulder and do little damage.
Renak shifts his stance and raises his baton to swing it downward at me. Mosun moves to intercept, but Renak’s leg lashes out and catches Mosun’s knee from the side. The swing that was coming my way turns into a descending thrust at the Yotul, who gets the baton jabbed straight into his torso.
Mosun’s shriek fills the room as he thrashes under the coruscating electrical blow, and I strike Renak with everything I’ve got in a desperate and unrefined haymaker.
I catch the bastard right in the visor and hear a loud sound. It hurts. Renak staggers back with a yelp, dropping the stun rod, and turns to look squarely at me. I’ve cracked his visor, and probably broken a finger or two in the bargain.
I stare for the length of a breath at the cracks in the reflective surface, seeing my own rage reflected in a dozen fractured images.
Renak calmly reaches behind him and pulls out his sidearm. He doesn’t even glance aside as he extends his arm and puts two bullets into Mosun. The gunshots echo in the enclosed space.
“NO!!” I hear myself shouting as I fumble for my rifle. Renak turns his arm toward me and fires again. I hear the crack and a whistle as a bullet flies right past my head.
A second bullet whizzes past and strikes the door frame, tumbling past with a ricochet whine. It missed only because I’m falling to one knee.
With my own rifle raised, I return fire. We’re firing at each other from mere feet away. I fire three times. I miss the first shot, but the second hits him in the thigh. The third takes him in the side somewhere.
He’s spun around, but empties the gun in my direction as he staggers into a dash out of the room, toward the basement.
It’s only when I rise to my feet that I realize I’ve been shot too. My left leg burns, and can’t carry my weight. I awkwardly hop over to Mosun and kneel to investigate his wounds.
His collarbone’s been shattered by one bullet. Another has caught him on the inside of the shoulder. I don’t know Yotul anatomy, but I’m guessing if it’s caught a lung or an artery he’s in real trouble. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone here; you’re the only one I can talk to.”
He takes a slow breath and doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He simply looks at me and plainly says “Ow.”
I can breathe again. The wound’s leaking, but not spurting. Oh thank God.
“Christ, okay, we gotta get you out of here. I don’t think it’s immediately fatal, but the blood loss is gonna get you if we don’t stop it.”
“Later. Get him, then help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t just-”
He swats at me with his good arm. “Not safe to extract. And still need the girl.”
I look around and end up taking a blanket folded over the couch and handing it to him. “Press this into the wounds, as hard as you can. I’ll be back.”
“Y-You better be. I’ll be upset if you m-make me walk back to the truck on my own.”
I get up and grasp my rifle, and limp my way after Renak.
Unless he’s got another ambush planned in the basement, Thiva is his last chance. And the bastard knows it.
I make my way down the basement steps, but it’s slow going. I have to use my injured right arm to brace myself, holding the rifle ahead with the left. My adrenaline’s starting to go down enough that the leg is starting to really hurt. So’s my left hand.
At the foot of the stairs, Renak’s discarded the helmet. The room contains several boxes of explosives, and flamethrowers.
Their weapons stores. Great.
In the middle of the room there’s a chair. Bound to it is Thiva. She’s got cuts and bruises over her body, and her beautiful fur is matted orange all over.
Behind her stands Renak. He’s got a knife to her throat.
I raise the rifle and stare right at Renak. “Let the girl go.”
Thiva gasps out as she sees me. “Martin!” She tries to lean forward, but the blade presses harder into her neck and she shrinks back into the chair.
Renak stares back at me, head-on and with both eyes. When he speaks, his voice is emotionless and without inflection. He sounds bored. “Move a muscle, predator, and Thiva dies.”
I look at my friend. She looks terrified. “Hey Thiva, don’t worry. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
She gives the tiniest nod.
Renak growls. “Look at me, predator.”
My eyes shift back to his again. They’re dull and empty. Just black beads of glass set into his face. It’s like looking at a machine. A complex structure, but no soul animating it.
My leg is trembling, and I feel hot and sticky blood running down it. “You don’t need the girl. You can just let her go, and we can leave, and nobody else needs to die.”
He blinks slowly. “My sister is better off dead than as a predator’s mate. If I can’t save her body from you, I can save her honor.” To emphasize his point, he lets the knife dig further into her throat. I see some orange running down it, and the fur beneath Thiva’s eyes are damp with tears.
My breathing is heavy, and my aim is shaky. “I stormed a terrorist compound to get this far. I’m not leaving without her. You can have her over my dead body.”
He stares silently for a moment. “Fair enough.”
He raises his other arm toward me with a smooth and mechanical motion. His sidearm is in it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet takes him in the head. With his strings cut, he drops in a heap.
I drop the rifle and rush forward to undo Thiva’s bindings. As soon as I do, her arms fly around me painfully tightly. I return the hug as best I can.
“Thiva, listen to me. Can you walk?”
She gets up and winces, but nods. “Y-yeah.”
“Okay, good. There’s a Yotul upstairs named Mosun. He needs immediate medical attention. We’ve got a truck waiting, we’re gonna head up and get both of you out there.”
One of her eyes suddenly moves up and stares behind me. I turn in place.
Vansi’s standing in stairway, taking in the scene.
“Thiva… Go. Now. Now!” I rise to my feet and put a hand on her back, walking alongside her for a few steps before she rushes the rest of the way past her mother and up the stairs.
Vansi doesn’t move to stop her. She just stares at the crumpled corpse behind us.
It’s only after I take another step that her eyes snap to me with fury.
And I realize my rifle’s right at her feet.
She snatches it up into trembling paws and aims it right at me.
“Vansi, listen, I-”
The weapon goes off.
I fall to my knees. My hands reach my stomach and feel sticky and wet.
She pulls the trigger again, and it clicks dry. She pulls another few times, but it’s empty.
I rise to my feet and try to lunge past her. But she simply swings the empty rifle at me. It hits my wounded stomach, and I fall to my side. She swings it down on me several more times, snarling and cursing, until the weapon breaks enough that she simply tosses what’s left aside.
It hurts. Jesus Christ it hurts so fucking bad.
I try to think of a way out of this as she staggers past me toward her son. I try to get to my feet again, but fail. I drag myself to the wall, and use it to pull myself up bit by bit. I limp along the wall, smearing trails of my own blood with my hands as I go.
I’m almost at the stairs when I hear an inarticulate scream and feel agony blooming out from my right side. I look down and see the knife, in Vansi’s paws.
Fuck.
I collapse on the ground and try to fend her off with my hands. She stabs me straight through the palm of my right hand, then stabs twice more at my left arm and shoulder. My left arm doesn’t respond to my signals, simply flopping down limply.
With only one chance left, I punch her with my right. Again and again, while she stabs at my torso.
There’s a cold math to blood loss. The more you lose, the weaker you get.
‘So you see, that's how I am going to die.’
Each of my blows does less than the last. My hands and feet feel ice cold, while my chest burns.
‘I'll sneeze in the sunlight, or turn my head a bit too fast when someone wants my attention from my blind spot’
Before long I can’t fight back. I simply lay still and hear my flesh tearing and Vansi screaming in my ears.
‘or show happiness with a smile or a laugh’
I can’t lift a finger or even turn my head as Vansi staggers off of me. My shallow breaths are agony, and I can feel one of my lungs has collapsed.
‘or god forbid I might try to save a life again.’
She returns with something else in her hands. I close my eyes.
‘And then someone like your son will show up and burn me alive for it.’
/// ERROR /// Memory transcription fragmented /// Subject no longer conscious.
---
[First] [Previous]
2023.06.04 19:09 bedroomrockstar89 Some feature requests from someone who works >50 hrs/week in Logic
So many of these seem like no-brainers! I really hope they can implement some of these in the near future, it would make my life so much easier :)
submitted by bedroomrockstar89 to LogicPro [link] [comments]
- Ability to Copy Sends to other channels with option - click and drag
- Fader pop up for sends when adjusting them rather just the tiny wheel
- Simplify Buffer Sizes like LUNA (Small, Medium, Large) or even just have the buffer change automatically depending on how much processing power is needed
- Quantize Audio like LUNA
- Searchable plugins and auto categorize them (There is a plugin that does this called plug search by speaker food maybe you could buy them out and make it a built in feature)
- Auto Clip Gain Sections within Audio Regions (Similar to Melodyne function “make louder notes quite and quiet notes louder, could function like strip silence does)
- Set Defaults for all projects in preferences (preferred sample rates, asset management, how to handle take folders etc) so that you don’t need to make specific templates to make sure all projects have consistent preferences
- Easier way to fade multiple audio regions. In LUNA, you can select multiple regions and simply use command-F to apply fades and crossfades to multiple regions
- Set default folder location for sessions, templates etc. When working from external hard drives it’s very annoying to have to click to find the specific folder you want to save your session to since it defaults to /music/logic. Same for templates
2023.06.04 19:08 Oof_too_Humid “The Grand Home” – A McMansion to kill for?
This property was spawned in 2017 from nightmares produced inside the skullholes of Kim & Doug Roylance (founders of the LuLaRoe pyramid scheme fortune). But, in Sept. 2019, they gave up on bringing their phantasmagoria to life, i.e., they halted construction, after an “unattended death” on-site. Then along comes a flipper. She sees the charm and potential in this little baby and she is going to buy it, finish it and make some sweet, sweet profit. But her husband didn’t agree and would not let her throw his money away on this hell-hole. She didn’t let his logic, common sense and refusal to fund, crush her vision. Kouri Richins’ offer to purchase was accepted in January 2022. Weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, her husband Eric Richins had an allergic reaction to food she prepared -- and he told family & friends of his suspicions that she was trying to kill him. On March 4, 2022, Eric Richins was found dead. The very next day, Kouri Richins closed on the property. Oof.
Anyway…I hate it. It is a massive pile of cursed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyRfcM2Li-s&t=534s
(Warning: meandering through this labyrinth is basically an upscale version of landing in “the Backrooms”.)
--Dormers: They’re big and they are everywhere. --Windows: Lots of different sized windows. --Garage: Attached 2-car garage smack dab in the front of the house. --House size: It’s yuuuuge -- 20,000 square feet. --Lawyer foyer, Pringles can, slap-happy roof lines. (Portal to Hell Address: 106 N Legacy Way, Heber City, UT)
submitted by Oof_too_Humid to McMansionHell [link] [comments]
Anyway…I hate it. It is a massive pile of cursed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyRfcM2Li-s&t=534s
(Warning: meandering through this labyrinth is basically an upscale version of landing in “the Backrooms”.)
--Dormers: They’re big and they are everywhere. --Windows: Lots of different sized windows. --Garage: Attached 2-car garage smack dab in the front of the house. --House size: It’s yuuuuge -- 20,000 square feet. --Lawyer foyer, Pringles can, slap-happy roof lines. (Portal to Hell Address: 106 N Legacy Way, Heber City, UT)
2023.06.04 19:05 Jcb112 Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (33/?)
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A staredown soon ensued.
One that neither of us seemed to be willing to let up on.
But as far as staredowns went, this one was pretty evenly matched as neither of us really had the ability to ‘blink’, or at least as far as an outside observer could see.
My whole schtick was pretty obvious, the tinted lenses were more or less just doing the job for me, taking blinking out of the equation entirely and adding a solid plus ten to my intimidation base stats.
The shadowy cloaked figure’s approach was just downright bizarre though, as instead of eyes, there were just these two trapezoidal ‘lights’ that I assumed were supposed to be a placeholder for his actual eyes hidden somewhere underneath the shadowy void casted by his hood.
A void which was downright pitchblack, and completely impenetrable to the naked eye.
The figure gave off a surreal vibe as his rogue-like attire, coupled with the hood and the impenetrable shadow it casted, looked like it’d been ripped straight out of a Castles and Wyverns art book or a high-fantasy comic. The pitch-black void that obscured his face, and those two trapezoidal eyes that hovered and shifted with increasing scrutiny, just didn’t look real.
While most would leave it at that, I wasn’t one to leave a mystery hanging, I was a human with an entire visual sensor suite to work with for crying out loud. So before I even knew it, I reflexively went to activate my night-vision cameras. Only to see that the shadowy effect covering up his face was still there.
This led me to only one solid conclusion.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 140% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
A quick localized environmental scan made it clear to me that this was yet another one of the Nexus’ weird mana-fueled acts of tomfoolery.
“What say you, first years? Are you here for healing, or are you here for a visit? For as I have stated, the healing wing is not accepting visits at this point in time.” The hooded figure answered with this strange mix between a sing-song voice and an attempt at sounding gruff and gravely.
“We have an unfulfilled point of personal privilege that requires addressment.” Thacea stepped up to the plate, promptly placing herself by my side, then taking several steps forward. “Along with an unresolved conflict which requires immediate resolution by the party with which the aforementioned point of personal privilege was evoked but was halted due to unforeseen circumstances.” The princess began flexing her courtly-talk with the hooded figure, which clearly seemed to have some effect as he reached up a single gloved hand up to where his chin should be, only to have his fingers disappear as soon as they entered the dark shadowy effect currently covering up his face.
“And with whom is this unresolved matter incurred?” The figure inquired plainly, though the way he spoke shifted to something a bit more accommodating, perhaps even a little bit more hospitable than the gruffer tone he’d initially directed towards me.
“An apprentice, good sir. Apprentice Larial to be precise.” Thacea clarified politely, using what I could only describe as this flighty, chirpy, almost haughty tone of voice that was an exaggerated version of the cadence she used during our first interactions together.
“Hmm…” The hooded figure replied with a concerned grumble. “I was going to waive this particular matter, allowing the fair lady-” He paused, before making a point to stare at both me and Thalmin. “-and her two knights to pass on through, under the points of exceptional circumstances.” He continued in a less restrained, more flighty cadence. “However, you must excuse my inability to do so, my lady. My hands are currently tied via the powers that be, and I simply cannot grant your request.” The man began weaving a string of apologetics, giving Thacea a genuine and polite bow in response. “I must apologize for this discrepancy in expectant decorum.”
This didn’t make things any better for our circumstances though.
And it was clear Thacea understood this as she continued pressing forward.
“May I have your name and title, my good sir?” Thacea chirped lightly.
“Appointed-Deputy Magistrate Sir Arlan Ostoy, Senior Apprentice of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. May I have the honor and the privilege of requesting your name, my fair lady?”
“Princess Thacea Dilani, of the Aetheronrealm, First Year and Scholastic Peer of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts.” Thacea replied with a full bow, and a half-curtsy of her own.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The shadowy figure bowed yet again.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir-Magistrate.” Followed by yet another bow by Thacea.
There was some serious song and dance going on here, and one that I was observing with bated breath.
“Might I inquire further as to the particular reasoning behind this unfortunate and unseemly inability to respect the rights of expectant decorum?” Thacea quickly shot back.
“As I have alluded to, your highness, the powers that be prevent me from furthering the natural solution to your particular grievances. If this were any other instance in time, at any other location or place, I am sure this matter would have been resolved in an expedient and timely fashion. This situation, as you have alluded to yourself, results from a very particular set of unforeseen circumstances. Circumstances which currently dictate my actions in a manner which just so happens to be in conflict with your points of personal privilege, your highness.” The man’s posture, the way he stood, even the way he talked seemed very particular when addressing Thacea.
It was at that point that something changed. I didn’t know what, and I wasn’t sure why, but Thacea seemed to be shifting towards a tactical retreat, as she clacked her beak several times before addressing the both of us. “This is absolutely preposterous, I will need a moment to clear my mind but when I do return…” Thacea turned towards the magistrate/guard/apprentice person yet again. “There will be words exchanged.”
At Thacea’s prompting, we all left the room, but not before slamming the door behind us shut in a similar manner to Ilunor’s drama-filled exits.
We continued walking away from the medical wing at a steady pace, until another privacy screen was suddenly brought up.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“I have a plan.” Thacea began. “And this is entirely relying on you two having the physical prowess to back up your military backgrounds.” She continued ominously.
“Oh princess, you sully the Havenbrock name if you believe my mercenary heritage is in any way, shape, or form a mere decorative mantlepiece.” Thalmin responded with a sarcastic, yet excitable tone.
“I assure you, Thacea, I think my training has almost every eventuality accounted for.” I added with an affirmative nod.
“So what’s the plan?” Thalmin barked out excitedly as we stopped right in the middle of this long, wide hallway connecting the main castle with the medical wing. Thacea was quick to answer this question by wordlessly gesturing to a lone door on the right side of the hallway.
Windows lining either side of the hallway made it clear that this entire structure was just an elevated bridge connecting the main castle to an entirely separate compound.
This made the presence of a door smack-dab in the middle of its length sort of bizarre.
Upon entering it though, we were treated to an open-air rooftop terrace with a few seats and benches. The whole outcropping gave us an unparalleled view of the roaring waterfall beneath the Academy, and a direct line of sight to the medical wing and its five distinct towers.
The princess continued walking silently as we reached the edge of the terrace’s balcony, overlooking the sheer cliff face at a height that more or less put me in mind of your typical open-air rooftops on your typical Acela Corridor skyscraper.
“I’ve observed that the medical wing seems to consist of a large tower-atrium, with several more towers connected to it via additional corridors. Similar to spokes on a wheel. As you can see from this vantage point, it seems as if most rooms have private balconies. If we cannot make our way to the apprentice via conventional channels, then I plan to reach her via more unconventional means.” Thacea turned towards me with a hardened look in her gaze. “Emma, is your… insect artifice ready for use?”
My eyes widened at that, as I nodded affirmatively. “Just for the record, we call it a drone.” I quickly corrected Thacea. “But, yes, I can designate individuals and targets for it to track down or follow. However, I can’t just have it poking around in every room since there’s no guarantee that the drone will be able to get a lock on them. There’s too many variables involved that would get in the way of the drone actually being able to zero in on a person’s face. From the beds facing the right way, to bandages possibly covering up her face, to-”
“I don’t want your artifice to observe every balcony and window, Emma. That will most certainly take too much time, and as you’ve stated, there’s no guarantee of actually identifying a face considering the multitudes of factors involved.” Thacea interjected. “What I plan to do is to return to the Deputy-Magistrate, and to attempt to reach a compromise that he will abide by. I plan for him to take us, or rather, your drone straight to the apprentice.”
“And how will you accomplish this?” Thalmin whined,his head tilted in curiosity.
“I will draft a letter, addressed directly to the apprentice, and request that it be taken straight to her room. This way, the Deputy-Magistrate will in a sense be able to accomplish his obligations to the Expectant Decorum, and in doing so he will lead your insec-, drone, straight to the apprentice’s room.”
I stared at Thacea with wide eyes, as her back and forths with the deputy-magistrate began taking on a completely different meaning in this new light.
“That way, we can find out exactly which room the apprentice is in.” I replied bluntly.
“Correct. However, from there, I cannot say my plans are in any way foolproof.” Thacea replied with a sullen coo.
“Well go on, princess, it sounds pretty good so far!” Thalmin urged.
“Ascertaining the apprentice’s room is only half of the stated objective. Actually getting there is another matter entirely. Because depending on where the apprentice is located… my idea for the latter half of this quest involves you two scaling your way towards her room.” The princess spoke with an immense level of trepidation. “On the exterior aspect of the castle, if that needed to be said.”
My heart skipped a beat as the princess laid out her plans. I looked across the absurdly spindly hallway-bridge that this little terrace was somehow attached to, and towards the five towers that made up the medical wing.
Thalmin did the same, although his face seemed to indicate that he was at the very least, considering the plan at least somewhat seriously.
“Alright.” I muttered out loud, instinctively trying to place a palm on my forehead, only for the glove to bonk straight off. “I have several ideas. First, we might be able to do this remotely. I’m thinking once we find out which room she’s in, we fly in a larger drone, one carrying with it a deployable holographic projector or some other two-way communications device so that we can talk to her remotely.” As soon as I spoke that idea out loud however, things started to fall apart. “But because of how thick the walls are, and considering the distance between the tower and our dorm, I might have to deploy repeaters in order to daisy-chain the connection all the way back to the dorms. I mean, we can’t just set up shop out here in the open after all. At which point we’d have a continuous chain of signal-repeater drones flying all across the Academy… which wouldn’t be ideal. No, scratch that, that won’t work.”
The pair stared at me with varying degrees of confusion, but seemed to have collectively decided to ignore the idea after I’d scrapped it.
“I say we just climb it!” Thalmin yelped out, but not before another idea hit me. One that could work, but that required me consulting Thacea first.
“I mean, we could, but…” I turned to face Thacea. “What’s the Academy’s policy on noise? Or rather, do you think we could get away with something really really loud, buzzing outside of the towers?”
Thacea once more stared at me with a look of just utter confusion, but shrugged it off and went with it anyways. “I would highly recommend against generating too much noise for this particular quest, Emma. It would most certainly garner a lot of unwanted attention.” Thacea spoke plain and simple.
I couldn’t help but to groan internally in frustration at that.
That makes flying over there a no-go… it would’ve made things so much easier though…
“Alright, well, that more or less places us in a very awkward situation with not a lot of options available to us, huh?” I thought to myself outloud again, as I craned my head over to an excitable Thalmin.
“I guess I have to climb on over.” I stated in no uncertain terms.
“Wait, I?!” Thalmin responded with a shocked and incredulous bark. “There’s no way I’m allowing you to climb over there yourself without assistance or-”
“Thalmin, there’s no need for you to climb on over with me.” I interjected. “This whole mission is hedged on me talking to the apprentice one-on-one. Remember the gardens? The apprentice wouldn’t allow you anywhere near us when we started talking. It’d be a waste of time, energy, and more importantly… a huge risk to your safety. I don’t want to risk your life needlessly, Thalmin. Not especially for a fight that isn’t your own.”
“Well you’re part of our peer group, so it’s my fight as well.” Thalmin replied with a dejected growl, but eventually relented. “But you’re right, Emma. I hate to admit it, but you’re right.”
I nodded at Thalmin’s slowly. “Besides, there’s an important job I need you to do.” I began scrounging through one of my pouches, and began palming for my spare in-ear earpieces. “I need you on lookout, to keep me aware of anything fishy developing in case I need to pull out.”
Thalmin looked over the side of the terrace, towards the raging waters beneath this side of the Academy as he let out a sigh. “That shouldn’t be too hard. Hardly anyone will be passing by this terrace, and beyond that there’s no way anyone can spot you from below, given there’s nothing but the cascading rapids below us. There’s no one that can spot you from here, save for perhaps the foxes in the library. We’re most certainly on the right side of the Academy for this quest, that’s for certain.” Thalmin pointed at the library in the far distance.
“Oh, I’m not too worried about anyone seeing me. I’m more concerned about someone compromising my extraction point, i.e. this little terrace here.” I acknowledged.
“But, surely you must be worried about someone seeing you scaling the walls…” Thalmin scanned me up and down, as if wanting to comment about my size but- “You’re massive.”
“Okay, first off, rude.” I spoke sarcastically, and raised both hands up for added effect. “But in all seriousness, I have another device that can mask my visual presence.” I pulled out a plastic-like poncho from one of my pouches, activating it, and revealing its active-camo properties as it projected whatever was behind it, albeit with some imperfections. “It isn’t perfect, but from afar it should actually work pretty well.”
Both Thalmin and Thacea stared at each other in utter shock as they saw this.
“A mana-less-”
“I think… this is a matter worth discussing another time, Princess.” Thalmin interjected with a polite exasperated breath. “But I expect a good explanation for this one, Emma.” Thalmin pointed a finger right at me.
“In any case, I will be diverting the Deputy-Magistrate’s attention by preoccupying him with needless and vapid chatter. This should take attention away from the apprentice and your intrusion, Emma.” Thacea quickly added, and promptly tied this whole impromptu operation up nicely.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road then. We’ll head back to the dorms and get that letter drafted so-”
“Already done.” Thacea interjected, bringing up a parchment that she promptly began sealing into an envelope.
“Wait, when did you-”
“Whilst we were talking, I used a dictation spell. The letter is written and signed.” Thacea spoke nonchalantly, as she held a neatly sealed envelope in one of her talons.
“Wait, what, when did you, how did you-?”
“I carry a quill and extra parchment in my bag of holding. This is to account for any eventuality where a statement in writing, a legal affidavit, or a notarized letter may be required.” Thacea responded a-matter-of-factly.
“Alright then.” I tapped the pouch with the INFIL-DRONE, the small little thing peeking its head out much to the visible disgust of the pair. “So we’re ready for phase one of the operation. Misdirection and information gathering. We’ll go in, drop the letter, and have the drone do its thing. After that, we wait for the drone to return, and we’ll take it from there on whether or not we can continue with Phase Two: penetrating the enemy lines.”
“What would be stopping us from continuing with phase two?” Thalmin quickly asked.
“Well, simple. If the apprentice is still conked out from her injuries, there wouldn’t be any point in attempting to meet her. So hopefully, she’s going to be in a good enough state to talk to. We’ll know when we get the drone footage back.”
“Fair point.” Thalmin nodded.
“So, is everyone ready to begin?” Thacea asked.
A series of affirmative nods later, we began our quick walk back over to the atrium.
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Extraction Point Alpha (Open Air Terrace Overlooking the Medical Wing). Local Time: 1420 Hours.
That took way more time than I’d initially thought.
In fact, it took so long that I was beginning to wonder how two people could have an unending conversation where nothing of value was spoken and nothing of value was gained.
It was basically elevator small talk, but written by the same writers who wrote Bridgerwesson Lane, and adapted to a theatrical release with a trilogy that ended with a movie arbitrarily cut up into a two-parter.
I honestly zoned out for a few moments during those hours, as I decided to use the spare time to review the grappling hook and mountaineering gear I’d be using on this little quest.
Eventually however, the Deputy-Magistrate relented, at which point I let loose the INFIL-DRONE to do its thing.
It’d been twenty minutes since we left and made our way back to this open-air terrace, and all of us were waiting with bated breath for the results the drone had in store.
“So, how fast can that drone of yours fly anyways Emma-”
Thalmin was immediately cut off as the drone in question buzzed right by his ears, causing them to flick this way and that, before flattening out entirely.
“Speak of him and he will come.” I chuckled, as I outstretched a gloved hand over for the little drone to perch atop of.
Once again, the pair stared at it with a look of mild disgust, and then panic as it crawled all the way back into its docking port, and began uploading the data we needed.
“Alright, let’s see what we have here.” I spoke to no one in particular before shifting my attention to the EVI. “EVI, isolate and replay relevant footage, and calculate the target’s location.”
“Acknowledged, parsing…”
“Location Parsing. Footage isolated. Play Footage?”
“Affirmative.”
I immediately pulled out my data-tab for the gang to be able to watch as well, as the footage began just as the Deputy-Magistrate, and by extension the drone, arrived at the apprentice’s room.
The door, and all details posted in the front were all captured, and so too was the state of the apprentice revealed to us in short order as I braced myself for a mangled and bandaged-up mass of broken bones.
What I instead saw, was… still a heavily bandaged up figure. However, the most important thing was that they were awake.
And what was remarkable, was the fact that they were able to move without assistance. As the apprentice reached over to receive the letter wordlessly, shifting a bit in bed as she did so.
“This is a letter addressed from a Princess Thacea Dilani of the Aetheronrealm. I have fulfilled my duties and obligations as per the Expectant Decorum. I will now take my leave, Apprentice Larial.” The deputy-magistrate spoke with the same air of overbearing properness, seriously making me consider whether or not this was how he was all the time.
Whatever the case may be, the apprentice seemed to be healed enough to move her arms at the very least, as she grabbed the letter and spoke hoarsely back in response. “Thank you Senior Apprentice.”
There wasn’t much to the footage beyond those interactions, but it was good enough for the purposes of this mission.
“Alright.” I spoke, as I pocketed the tablet. “We have our answer. The apprentice seems healed up enough to speak to, so phase two of this operation is a-go.”
The pair nodded in response, just in time for the EVI to be done with whatever calculations were needed to determine the apprentice’s precise location.
I turned to the tower, as the room and its balcony was highlighted.
It was just about five stories above from where we were.
Meaning it’d be a hell of a climb.
“The room’s about five floors up.” I announced with a sigh.
“Are you sure you can make that journey, Emma?” Thacea responded worryingly. “I… I will be honest, Emma, I am having some second doubts about this whole idea. The concept just came to me as flying between tall structures and towers is just second nature to us Aetheronrealmers. Considering the heights involved, and your inability to fly, I’m wondering if this whole quest was a folly of my own shortsighted-”
“It’s fine, Thacea.” I cut the avinor off. “I can do this, trust me.” I placed a single hand on the princess’ shoulder, and squeezed it once for effect.
Meanwhile, the EVI began doing what it did best: attempting to minimize the risk associated with my hairbrained schemes, as it deployed the suit’s primary lookout drone in order to start mapping out the best possible route forward.
This spooked the pair yet again, as they both jolted backwards.
Thankfully, the drone was deathly silent, so it shouldn’t bring too much attention to it.
It was at this point that I brought out a pair of earpieces I was scrounging my pouches for earlier, one for Thacea, and another for Thalmin.
“These will help you stay in contact with me throughout the climb.” I stated plainly, as I attempted to latch it onto my own ear for demonstrative purposes, only to realize that I could not, given the suit was in the way.
I sighed, as I turned towards Thalmin. “Do you mind if I put it on for you?” I asked sheepishly.
“Erm, what is it, Emma?”
“It’s…” I paused, as I attempted to find the best way to describe this without taking up too much time. “It’s a communication artifice, Thalmin. It’ll allow us to talk to each other remotely, relying on that drone there-” I pointed at the lookout drone still flying away from us. “-to relay our voices to each other.”
Thalmin, as expected, looked at me with an expression of partial dumbfoundedness whilst Thacea seemed completely transfixed by the earpieces I held in my hands.
“So it’s like a hearing-sense?” Thalmin responded with a questioning bark.
“Look, I’ll just demonstrate.” I managed out with a sigh as Thalmin reluctantly nodded and allowed me to begin hooking in the earpiece, looping it around his fluffy triangular ears.
This inevitably resulted in my hand brushing over the lupinor’s fluffy head a few times, which seemed to elicit some large tail-wags and a dulcet rumble.
I tried to ignore that, as I pulled back and began demonstrating. “I’ve turned off my speakers, can you still hear me, Thalmin?”
“Yes, I can.” The lupinor spoke after clearing his throat.
I turned my speakers back on immediately after. “Alright, I’ll get into the specifics of how it works later, but as for now, just know that I can hear whatever you say.”
“I’m afraid I don’t think that artifice will be compatible with my… anatomy, Emma.” Thacea spoke calmly, as she pointed at several aspects of the earpiece that required an actual ear canal to fit into, and an earlobe to loop around.
“This complicates things a bit, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. How long do you think you can keep up the distracting conversation with the deputy-magistrate for, Thacea?”
“We just went through several hours discussing nothing in particular, I can most certainly continue that trend from dusk till dawn.” The avinor spoke confidently, and frankly, rather proudly. “The issue lies not in how long I can manage to maintain the conversation, but in how long it will take you to accomplish this quest, Emma.” Thacea shot back.
“An hour.” I nodded confidently. “Twenty minutes to scoot my way over there, twenty to talk to the apprentice, and twenty to get back.”
“I’ll make that two hours then.” Thacea responded without a second thought. “We need to account for potential complications, and an extra hour of senseless dialogue will most certainly not be an issue for me.”
With an affirmative nod from me, and an approving glance from Thalmin, I now turned towards the exterior of the two hundred foot corridor leading to the concourse, and the extra five hundred feet it would take to get from the atrium to the tower in question.
It was at that last minute that the EVI brought out another suggestion, one that was formulated with the aid of the new datasets provided by the FEBNPMS lookout drone that had been busy mapping out the best route forward.
It was… an inherently riskier approach, one that my aunt would definitely not approve of, but it definitely beat scaling a wall and wedging spikes into it.
“Actually… I have a better idea than simply scaling the walls.”
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to Medical Wing Tower C, Room 705. Local Time: 1430 Hours.
“Grapple secure.”
I will never forget the feeling of falling.
The very wrong feeling that came with leaping off of solid ground into empty sky, of suddenly seeing and feeling the world whizzing by me.
It was a visceral feeling, a gut-churning sensation, dominated by an overbearing sense of impending doom that takes over your terrestrial brain that wasn’t designed to feel the ‘freeing’ sensation of being unbound to the ground beneath you.
Leaping over from the edge of the terrace was the worst part of it. But after that tentative jump, things started to become just a little bit easier.
The Academy’s proclivity for over-aggrandized architectural design would finally serve a purpose beyond just decorative aesthetics.
Because it was clear that the walls weren’t really designed to ward off anyone daring to scale them. As there existed several, if not hundreds of these little greebles and outcroppings that served no purpose but to act as decorative pieces on the side of the castle. Some held stone flowers, whilst others had lamps or other light pieces of varying designs.
No matter what they were, or what meaning they held, all were equal and valid targets in the eyes of my grappling hook.
As I dangled there from the first outcropping, held in place by a single high-tensile cable, I looked up to see Thalmin looming over the edge “EMMA?!” I heard him shout in a panic. It was clear that he was unable to see anything, as my light-refraction cloak was currently doing its job well.
“I’m still here, Thalmin. You can’t see me but I’m dangling from this weird outcropping that looks like an overinflated vase.”
“NEXT TIME, BE SURE TO INFORM ME AS TO THE NATURE OF YOUR IMPOSSIBLE ARTIFICES BEFORE USE, UNDERSTOOD?!”
“Of course. You’ll know if I’ve fallen if you hear a long scream followed by a large splat.”
“That’s not funny!”
I chuckled nervously in response, before turning to face the grueling, gut-churning journey ahead of me. “Humor’s my way of dealing with stress, and trust me, I have a lot of stress to work through right about now.”
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! Time for some unconventional solutions courtesy of Emma and the gang! We're going to meet the apprentice one way or another! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 34 of this story is already out on there!)]
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A staredown soon ensued.
One that neither of us seemed to be willing to let up on.
But as far as staredowns went, this one was pretty evenly matched as neither of us really had the ability to ‘blink’, or at least as far as an outside observer could see.
My whole schtick was pretty obvious, the tinted lenses were more or less just doing the job for me, taking blinking out of the equation entirely and adding a solid plus ten to my intimidation base stats.
The shadowy cloaked figure’s approach was just downright bizarre though, as instead of eyes, there were just these two trapezoidal ‘lights’ that I assumed were supposed to be a placeholder for his actual eyes hidden somewhere underneath the shadowy void casted by his hood.
A void which was downright pitchblack, and completely impenetrable to the naked eye.
The figure gave off a surreal vibe as his rogue-like attire, coupled with the hood and the impenetrable shadow it casted, looked like it’d been ripped straight out of a Castles and Wyverns art book or a high-fantasy comic. The pitch-black void that obscured his face, and those two trapezoidal eyes that hovered and shifted with increasing scrutiny, just didn’t look real.
While most would leave it at that, I wasn’t one to leave a mystery hanging, I was a human with an entire visual sensor suite to work with for crying out loud. So before I even knew it, I reflexively went to activate my night-vision cameras. Only to see that the shadowy effect covering up his face was still there.
This led me to only one solid conclusion.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 140% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
A quick localized environmental scan made it clear to me that this was yet another one of the Nexus’ weird mana-fueled acts of tomfoolery.
“What say you, first years? Are you here for healing, or are you here for a visit? For as I have stated, the healing wing is not accepting visits at this point in time.” The hooded figure answered with this strange mix between a sing-song voice and an attempt at sounding gruff and gravely.
“We have an unfulfilled point of personal privilege that requires addressment.” Thacea stepped up to the plate, promptly placing herself by my side, then taking several steps forward. “Along with an unresolved conflict which requires immediate resolution by the party with which the aforementioned point of personal privilege was evoked but was halted due to unforeseen circumstances.” The princess began flexing her courtly-talk with the hooded figure, which clearly seemed to have some effect as he reached up a single gloved hand up to where his chin should be, only to have his fingers disappear as soon as they entered the dark shadowy effect currently covering up his face.
“And with whom is this unresolved matter incurred?” The figure inquired plainly, though the way he spoke shifted to something a bit more accommodating, perhaps even a little bit more hospitable than the gruffer tone he’d initially directed towards me.
“An apprentice, good sir. Apprentice Larial to be precise.” Thacea clarified politely, using what I could only describe as this flighty, chirpy, almost haughty tone of voice that was an exaggerated version of the cadence she used during our first interactions together.
“Hmm…” The hooded figure replied with a concerned grumble. “I was going to waive this particular matter, allowing the fair lady-” He paused, before making a point to stare at both me and Thalmin. “-and her two knights to pass on through, under the points of exceptional circumstances.” He continued in a less restrained, more flighty cadence. “However, you must excuse my inability to do so, my lady. My hands are currently tied via the powers that be, and I simply cannot grant your request.” The man began weaving a string of apologetics, giving Thacea a genuine and polite bow in response. “I must apologize for this discrepancy in expectant decorum.”
This didn’t make things any better for our circumstances though.
And it was clear Thacea understood this as she continued pressing forward.
“May I have your name and title, my good sir?” Thacea chirped lightly.
“Appointed-Deputy Magistrate Sir Arlan Ostoy, Senior Apprentice of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. May I have the honor and the privilege of requesting your name, my fair lady?”
“Princess Thacea Dilani, of the Aetheronrealm, First Year and Scholastic Peer of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts.” Thacea replied with a full bow, and a half-curtsy of her own.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The shadowy figure bowed yet again.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir-Magistrate.” Followed by yet another bow by Thacea.
There was some serious song and dance going on here, and one that I was observing with bated breath.
“Might I inquire further as to the particular reasoning behind this unfortunate and unseemly inability to respect the rights of expectant decorum?” Thacea quickly shot back.
“As I have alluded to, your highness, the powers that be prevent me from furthering the natural solution to your particular grievances. If this were any other instance in time, at any other location or place, I am sure this matter would have been resolved in an expedient and timely fashion. This situation, as you have alluded to yourself, results from a very particular set of unforeseen circumstances. Circumstances which currently dictate my actions in a manner which just so happens to be in conflict with your points of personal privilege, your highness.” The man’s posture, the way he stood, even the way he talked seemed very particular when addressing Thacea.
It was at that point that something changed. I didn’t know what, and I wasn’t sure why, but Thacea seemed to be shifting towards a tactical retreat, as she clacked her beak several times before addressing the both of us. “This is absolutely preposterous, I will need a moment to clear my mind but when I do return…” Thacea turned towards the magistrate/guard/apprentice person yet again. “There will be words exchanged.”
At Thacea’s prompting, we all left the room, but not before slamming the door behind us shut in a similar manner to Ilunor’s drama-filled exits.
We continued walking away from the medical wing at a steady pace, until another privacy screen was suddenly brought up.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“I have a plan.” Thacea began. “And this is entirely relying on you two having the physical prowess to back up your military backgrounds.” She continued ominously.
“Oh princess, you sully the Havenbrock name if you believe my mercenary heritage is in any way, shape, or form a mere decorative mantlepiece.” Thalmin responded with a sarcastic, yet excitable tone.
“I assure you, Thacea, I think my training has almost every eventuality accounted for.” I added with an affirmative nod.
“So what’s the plan?” Thalmin barked out excitedly as we stopped right in the middle of this long, wide hallway connecting the main castle with the medical wing. Thacea was quick to answer this question by wordlessly gesturing to a lone door on the right side of the hallway.
Windows lining either side of the hallway made it clear that this entire structure was just an elevated bridge connecting the main castle to an entirely separate compound.
This made the presence of a door smack-dab in the middle of its length sort of bizarre.
Upon entering it though, we were treated to an open-air rooftop terrace with a few seats and benches. The whole outcropping gave us an unparalleled view of the roaring waterfall beneath the Academy, and a direct line of sight to the medical wing and its five distinct towers.
The princess continued walking silently as we reached the edge of the terrace’s balcony, overlooking the sheer cliff face at a height that more or less put me in mind of your typical open-air rooftops on your typical Acela Corridor skyscraper.
“I’ve observed that the medical wing seems to consist of a large tower-atrium, with several more towers connected to it via additional corridors. Similar to spokes on a wheel. As you can see from this vantage point, it seems as if most rooms have private balconies. If we cannot make our way to the apprentice via conventional channels, then I plan to reach her via more unconventional means.” Thacea turned towards me with a hardened look in her gaze. “Emma, is your… insect artifice ready for use?”
My eyes widened at that, as I nodded affirmatively. “Just for the record, we call it a drone.” I quickly corrected Thacea. “But, yes, I can designate individuals and targets for it to track down or follow. However, I can’t just have it poking around in every room since there’s no guarantee that the drone will be able to get a lock on them. There’s too many variables involved that would get in the way of the drone actually being able to zero in on a person’s face. From the beds facing the right way, to bandages possibly covering up her face, to-”
“I don’t want your artifice to observe every balcony and window, Emma. That will most certainly take too much time, and as you’ve stated, there’s no guarantee of actually identifying a face considering the multitudes of factors involved.” Thacea interjected. “What I plan to do is to return to the Deputy-Magistrate, and to attempt to reach a compromise that he will abide by. I plan for him to take us, or rather, your drone straight to the apprentice.”
“And how will you accomplish this?” Thalmin whined,his head tilted in curiosity.
“I will draft a letter, addressed directly to the apprentice, and request that it be taken straight to her room. This way, the Deputy-Magistrate will in a sense be able to accomplish his obligations to the Expectant Decorum, and in doing so he will lead your insec-, drone, straight to the apprentice’s room.”
I stared at Thacea with wide eyes, as her back and forths with the deputy-magistrate began taking on a completely different meaning in this new light.
“That way, we can find out exactly which room the apprentice is in.” I replied bluntly.
“Correct. However, from there, I cannot say my plans are in any way foolproof.” Thacea replied with a sullen coo.
“Well go on, princess, it sounds pretty good so far!” Thalmin urged.
“Ascertaining the apprentice’s room is only half of the stated objective. Actually getting there is another matter entirely. Because depending on where the apprentice is located… my idea for the latter half of this quest involves you two scaling your way towards her room.” The princess spoke with an immense level of trepidation. “On the exterior aspect of the castle, if that needed to be said.”
My heart skipped a beat as the princess laid out her plans. I looked across the absurdly spindly hallway-bridge that this little terrace was somehow attached to, and towards the five towers that made up the medical wing.
Thalmin did the same, although his face seemed to indicate that he was at the very least, considering the plan at least somewhat seriously.
“Alright.” I muttered out loud, instinctively trying to place a palm on my forehead, only for the glove to bonk straight off. “I have several ideas. First, we might be able to do this remotely. I’m thinking once we find out which room she’s in, we fly in a larger drone, one carrying with it a deployable holographic projector or some other two-way communications device so that we can talk to her remotely.” As soon as I spoke that idea out loud however, things started to fall apart. “But because of how thick the walls are, and considering the distance between the tower and our dorm, I might have to deploy repeaters in order to daisy-chain the connection all the way back to the dorms. I mean, we can’t just set up shop out here in the open after all. At which point we’d have a continuous chain of signal-repeater drones flying all across the Academy… which wouldn’t be ideal. No, scratch that, that won’t work.”
The pair stared at me with varying degrees of confusion, but seemed to have collectively decided to ignore the idea after I’d scrapped it.
“I say we just climb it!” Thalmin yelped out, but not before another idea hit me. One that could work, but that required me consulting Thacea first.
“I mean, we could, but…” I turned to face Thacea. “What’s the Academy’s policy on noise? Or rather, do you think we could get away with something really really loud, buzzing outside of the towers?”
Thacea once more stared at me with a look of just utter confusion, but shrugged it off and went with it anyways. “I would highly recommend against generating too much noise for this particular quest, Emma. It would most certainly garner a lot of unwanted attention.” Thacea spoke plain and simple.
I couldn’t help but to groan internally in frustration at that.
That makes flying over there a no-go… it would’ve made things so much easier though…
“Alright, well, that more or less places us in a very awkward situation with not a lot of options available to us, huh?” I thought to myself outloud again, as I craned my head over to an excitable Thalmin.
“I guess I have to climb on over.” I stated in no uncertain terms.
“Wait, I?!” Thalmin responded with a shocked and incredulous bark. “There’s no way I’m allowing you to climb over there yourself without assistance or-”
“Thalmin, there’s no need for you to climb on over with me.” I interjected. “This whole mission is hedged on me talking to the apprentice one-on-one. Remember the gardens? The apprentice wouldn’t allow you anywhere near us when we started talking. It’d be a waste of time, energy, and more importantly… a huge risk to your safety. I don’t want to risk your life needlessly, Thalmin. Not especially for a fight that isn’t your own.”
“Well you’re part of our peer group, so it’s my fight as well.” Thalmin replied with a dejected growl, but eventually relented. “But you’re right, Emma. I hate to admit it, but you’re right.”
I nodded at Thalmin’s slowly. “Besides, there’s an important job I need you to do.” I began scrounging through one of my pouches, and began palming for my spare in-ear earpieces. “I need you on lookout, to keep me aware of anything fishy developing in case I need to pull out.”
Thalmin looked over the side of the terrace, towards the raging waters beneath this side of the Academy as he let out a sigh. “That shouldn’t be too hard. Hardly anyone will be passing by this terrace, and beyond that there’s no way anyone can spot you from below, given there’s nothing but the cascading rapids below us. There’s no one that can spot you from here, save for perhaps the foxes in the library. We’re most certainly on the right side of the Academy for this quest, that’s for certain.” Thalmin pointed at the library in the far distance.
“Oh, I’m not too worried about anyone seeing me. I’m more concerned about someone compromising my extraction point, i.e. this little terrace here.” I acknowledged.
“But, surely you must be worried about someone seeing you scaling the walls…” Thalmin scanned me up and down, as if wanting to comment about my size but- “You’re massive.”
“Okay, first off, rude.” I spoke sarcastically, and raised both hands up for added effect. “But in all seriousness, I have another device that can mask my visual presence.” I pulled out a plastic-like poncho from one of my pouches, activating it, and revealing its active-camo properties as it projected whatever was behind it, albeit with some imperfections. “It isn’t perfect, but from afar it should actually work pretty well.”
Both Thalmin and Thacea stared at each other in utter shock as they saw this.
“A mana-less-”
“I think… this is a matter worth discussing another time, Princess.” Thalmin interjected with a polite exasperated breath. “But I expect a good explanation for this one, Emma.” Thalmin pointed a finger right at me.
“In any case, I will be diverting the Deputy-Magistrate’s attention by preoccupying him with needless and vapid chatter. This should take attention away from the apprentice and your intrusion, Emma.” Thacea quickly added, and promptly tied this whole impromptu operation up nicely.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road then. We’ll head back to the dorms and get that letter drafted so-”
“Already done.” Thacea interjected, bringing up a parchment that she promptly began sealing into an envelope.
“Wait, when did you-”
“Whilst we were talking, I used a dictation spell. The letter is written and signed.” Thacea spoke nonchalantly, as she held a neatly sealed envelope in one of her talons.
“Wait, what, when did you, how did you-?”
“I carry a quill and extra parchment in my bag of holding. This is to account for any eventuality where a statement in writing, a legal affidavit, or a notarized letter may be required.” Thacea responded a-matter-of-factly.
“Alright then.” I tapped the pouch with the INFIL-DRONE, the small little thing peeking its head out much to the visible disgust of the pair. “So we’re ready for phase one of the operation. Misdirection and information gathering. We’ll go in, drop the letter, and have the drone do its thing. After that, we wait for the drone to return, and we’ll take it from there on whether or not we can continue with Phase Two: penetrating the enemy lines.”
“What would be stopping us from continuing with phase two?” Thalmin quickly asked.
“Well, simple. If the apprentice is still conked out from her injuries, there wouldn’t be any point in attempting to meet her. So hopefully, she’s going to be in a good enough state to talk to. We’ll know when we get the drone footage back.”
“Fair point.” Thalmin nodded.
“So, is everyone ready to begin?” Thacea asked.
A series of affirmative nods later, we began our quick walk back over to the atrium.
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Extraction Point Alpha (Open Air Terrace Overlooking the Medical Wing). Local Time: 1420 Hours.
That took way more time than I’d initially thought.
In fact, it took so long that I was beginning to wonder how two people could have an unending conversation where nothing of value was spoken and nothing of value was gained.
It was basically elevator small talk, but written by the same writers who wrote Bridgerwesson Lane, and adapted to a theatrical release with a trilogy that ended with a movie arbitrarily cut up into a two-parter.
I honestly zoned out for a few moments during those hours, as I decided to use the spare time to review the grappling hook and mountaineering gear I’d be using on this little quest.
Eventually however, the Deputy-Magistrate relented, at which point I let loose the INFIL-DRONE to do its thing.
It’d been twenty minutes since we left and made our way back to this open-air terrace, and all of us were waiting with bated breath for the results the drone had in store.
“So, how fast can that drone of yours fly anyways Emma-”
Thalmin was immediately cut off as the drone in question buzzed right by his ears, causing them to flick this way and that, before flattening out entirely.
“Speak of him and he will come.” I chuckled, as I outstretched a gloved hand over for the little drone to perch atop of.
Once again, the pair stared at it with a look of mild disgust, and then panic as it crawled all the way back into its docking port, and began uploading the data we needed.
“Alright, let’s see what we have here.” I spoke to no one in particular before shifting my attention to the EVI. “EVI, isolate and replay relevant footage, and calculate the target’s location.”
“Acknowledged, parsing…”
“Location Parsing. Footage isolated. Play Footage?”
“Affirmative.”
I immediately pulled out my data-tab for the gang to be able to watch as well, as the footage began just as the Deputy-Magistrate, and by extension the drone, arrived at the apprentice’s room.
The door, and all details posted in the front were all captured, and so too was the state of the apprentice revealed to us in short order as I braced myself for a mangled and bandaged-up mass of broken bones.
What I instead saw, was… still a heavily bandaged up figure. However, the most important thing was that they were awake.
And what was remarkable, was the fact that they were able to move without assistance. As the apprentice reached over to receive the letter wordlessly, shifting a bit in bed as she did so.
“This is a letter addressed from a Princess Thacea Dilani of the Aetheronrealm. I have fulfilled my duties and obligations as per the Expectant Decorum. I will now take my leave, Apprentice Larial.” The deputy-magistrate spoke with the same air of overbearing properness, seriously making me consider whether or not this was how he was all the time.
Whatever the case may be, the apprentice seemed to be healed enough to move her arms at the very least, as she grabbed the letter and spoke hoarsely back in response. “Thank you Senior Apprentice.”
There wasn’t much to the footage beyond those interactions, but it was good enough for the purposes of this mission.
“Alright.” I spoke, as I pocketed the tablet. “We have our answer. The apprentice seems healed up enough to speak to, so phase two of this operation is a-go.”
The pair nodded in response, just in time for the EVI to be done with whatever calculations were needed to determine the apprentice’s precise location.
I turned to the tower, as the room and its balcony was highlighted.
It was just about five stories above from where we were.
Meaning it’d be a hell of a climb.
“The room’s about five floors up.” I announced with a sigh.
“Are you sure you can make that journey, Emma?” Thacea responded worryingly. “I… I will be honest, Emma, I am having some second doubts about this whole idea. The concept just came to me as flying between tall structures and towers is just second nature to us Aetheronrealmers. Considering the heights involved, and your inability to fly, I’m wondering if this whole quest was a folly of my own shortsighted-”
“It’s fine, Thacea.” I cut the avinor off. “I can do this, trust me.” I placed a single hand on the princess’ shoulder, and squeezed it once for effect.
Meanwhile, the EVI began doing what it did best: attempting to minimize the risk associated with my hairbrained schemes, as it deployed the suit’s primary lookout drone in order to start mapping out the best possible route forward.
This spooked the pair yet again, as they both jolted backwards.
Thankfully, the drone was deathly silent, so it shouldn’t bring too much attention to it.
It was at this point that I brought out a pair of earpieces I was scrounging my pouches for earlier, one for Thacea, and another for Thalmin.
“These will help you stay in contact with me throughout the climb.” I stated plainly, as I attempted to latch it onto my own ear for demonstrative purposes, only to realize that I could not, given the suit was in the way.
I sighed, as I turned towards Thalmin. “Do you mind if I put it on for you?” I asked sheepishly.
“Erm, what is it, Emma?”
“It’s…” I paused, as I attempted to find the best way to describe this without taking up too much time. “It’s a communication artifice, Thalmin. It’ll allow us to talk to each other remotely, relying on that drone there-” I pointed at the lookout drone still flying away from us. “-to relay our voices to each other.”
Thalmin, as expected, looked at me with an expression of partial dumbfoundedness whilst Thacea seemed completely transfixed by the earpieces I held in my hands.
“So it’s like a hearing-sense?” Thalmin responded with a questioning bark.
“Look, I’ll just demonstrate.” I managed out with a sigh as Thalmin reluctantly nodded and allowed me to begin hooking in the earpiece, looping it around his fluffy triangular ears.
This inevitably resulted in my hand brushing over the lupinor’s fluffy head a few times, which seemed to elicit some large tail-wags and a dulcet rumble.
I tried to ignore that, as I pulled back and began demonstrating. “I’ve turned off my speakers, can you still hear me, Thalmin?”
“Yes, I can.” The lupinor spoke after clearing his throat.
I turned my speakers back on immediately after. “Alright, I’ll get into the specifics of how it works later, but as for now, just know that I can hear whatever you say.”
“I’m afraid I don’t think that artifice will be compatible with my… anatomy, Emma.” Thacea spoke calmly, as she pointed at several aspects of the earpiece that required an actual ear canal to fit into, and an earlobe to loop around.
“This complicates things a bit, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. How long do you think you can keep up the distracting conversation with the deputy-magistrate for, Thacea?”
“We just went through several hours discussing nothing in particular, I can most certainly continue that trend from dusk till dawn.” The avinor spoke confidently, and frankly, rather proudly. “The issue lies not in how long I can manage to maintain the conversation, but in how long it will take you to accomplish this quest, Emma.” Thacea shot back.
“An hour.” I nodded confidently. “Twenty minutes to scoot my way over there, twenty to talk to the apprentice, and twenty to get back.”
“I’ll make that two hours then.” Thacea responded without a second thought. “We need to account for potential complications, and an extra hour of senseless dialogue will most certainly not be an issue for me.”
With an affirmative nod from me, and an approving glance from Thalmin, I now turned towards the exterior of the two hundred foot corridor leading to the concourse, and the extra five hundred feet it would take to get from the atrium to the tower in question.
It was at that last minute that the EVI brought out another suggestion, one that was formulated with the aid of the new datasets provided by the FEBNPMS lookout drone that had been busy mapping out the best route forward.
It was… an inherently riskier approach, one that my aunt would definitely not approve of, but it definitely beat scaling a wall and wedging spikes into it.
“Actually… I have a better idea than simply scaling the walls.”
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to Medical Wing Tower C, Room 705. Local Time: 1430 Hours.
“Grapple secure.”
I will never forget the feeling of falling.
The very wrong feeling that came with leaping off of solid ground into empty sky, of suddenly seeing and feeling the world whizzing by me.
It was a visceral feeling, a gut-churning sensation, dominated by an overbearing sense of impending doom that takes over your terrestrial brain that wasn’t designed to feel the ‘freeing’ sensation of being unbound to the ground beneath you.
Leaping over from the edge of the terrace was the worst part of it. But after that tentative jump, things started to become just a little bit easier.
The Academy’s proclivity for over-aggrandized architectural design would finally serve a purpose beyond just decorative aesthetics.
Because it was clear that the walls weren’t really designed to ward off anyone daring to scale them. As there existed several, if not hundreds of these little greebles and outcroppings that served no purpose but to act as decorative pieces on the side of the castle. Some held stone flowers, whilst others had lamps or other light pieces of varying designs.
No matter what they were, or what meaning they held, all were equal and valid targets in the eyes of my grappling hook.
As I dangled there from the first outcropping, held in place by a single high-tensile cable, I looked up to see Thalmin looming over the edge “EMMA?!” I heard him shout in a panic. It was clear that he was unable to see anything, as my light-refraction cloak was currently doing its job well.
“I’m still here, Thalmin. You can’t see me but I’m dangling from this weird outcropping that looks like an overinflated vase.”
“NEXT TIME, BE SURE TO INFORM ME AS TO THE NATURE OF YOUR IMPOSSIBLE ARTIFICES BEFORE USE, UNDERSTOOD?!”
“Of course. You’ll know if I’ve fallen if you hear a long scream followed by a large splat.”
“That’s not funny!”
I chuckled nervously in response, before turning to face the grueling, gut-churning journey ahead of me. “Humor’s my way of dealing with stress, and trust me, I have a lot of stress to work through right about now.”
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! Time for some unconventional solutions courtesy of Emma and the gang! We're going to meet the apprentice one way or another! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 34 of this story is already out on there!)]
2023.06.04 19:04 Diddlerontheroof420 23 male on and off flat stools
23 M [23] [M] 6ft 160lb Caucasian
i have been having on and off flat stools for about 5 months and it started after i got my first hemorrhoid. as far as i know ive never had any flat or flattish stools before. often it will start very flat and small, then grow to normal size and end very thin and small, during the process of going to the bathroom. have also had some weird fuzzy or furry rough edge looking floating stool. i went to the doctor and had a finger test idk what the actual word for it was, he found nothing and a colonoscopy has not been recommended. i vape for 4 years now after quitting 6 years of cigarettes, i smoke copious amounts of thc delta 9 and delta 8 ( no im not paranoid im just letting you know as is requested by the mandatory rules) only drink at celebrations. diet is not super consistent but not super inconsistent either, i eat mostly the same foods every week. im not super worried about this its just troubling that it hasnt gone away yet and that it could be a early warning sign of something serious. Early thanks to anyone that responds to this, i appreciate you :D
sidenote, several days after my first flat poop i genuinely took the largest poop of my entire life and it was a perfectly formed log. so im having the largest and the tiniest poops of my life out of nowhere after my first hemorrhoid
submitted by Diddlerontheroof420 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
i have been having on and off flat stools for about 5 months and it started after i got my first hemorrhoid. as far as i know ive never had any flat or flattish stools before. often it will start very flat and small, then grow to normal size and end very thin and small, during the process of going to the bathroom. have also had some weird fuzzy or furry rough edge looking floating stool. i went to the doctor and had a finger test idk what the actual word for it was, he found nothing and a colonoscopy has not been recommended. i vape for 4 years now after quitting 6 years of cigarettes, i smoke copious amounts of thc delta 9 and delta 8 ( no im not paranoid im just letting you know as is requested by the mandatory rules) only drink at celebrations. diet is not super consistent but not super inconsistent either, i eat mostly the same foods every week. im not super worried about this its just troubling that it hasnt gone away yet and that it could be a early warning sign of something serious. Early thanks to anyone that responds to this, i appreciate you :D
sidenote, several days after my first flat poop i genuinely took the largest poop of my entire life and it was a perfectly formed log. so im having the largest and the tiniest poops of my life out of nowhere after my first hemorrhoid
2023.06.04 19:03 DougDante A father petitioned for custody of his child. The child was in danger in mom's custody, the authorities were aware of this danger, but they denied dad's petition for custody. The child later died in mom's custody.
A father petitioned for custody of his child. The child was in danger in mom's custody, the authorities were aware of this danger, but they denied dad's petition for custody. The child later died in mom's custody.
Here is my response in the hopes that it will help families who face injustices, and in the hopes that it will help parents to protect their children from child abuse.
I'm not an attorney and this is not legal advice.
You wrote about a father who wanted custody of his child, the child was in danger in mom's custody, the authorities were aware of this danger, and denied dad custody. The child later died in mom's custody. (Anonymized)
Judges often have judicial immunity for their decisions.
Sometimes these agencies focus on their own financial interests or have sexist biases which can impact their recommendations and decisions.
Carol Rhodes is a whistleblower to described such wrongdoings:
Possible failure to respect:
A social worker worker who may have knowingly or negligently manufactured a false child custody recommendation may be abusing that child. In so doing they are failing to report their own abuse, or if they are aware of it, the abuse of their coworkers, a crime.
State child support, parenting time, and child protection, and elder abuse are all primarily funded under federal law Title IV-D and Title IV-E. Consider filing complaints.
submitted by DougDante to MensRights [link] [comments]
Here is my response in the hopes that it will help families who face injustices, and in the hopes that it will help parents to protect their children from child abuse.
I'm not an attorney and this is not legal advice.
You wrote about a father who wanted custody of his child, the child was in danger in mom's custody, the authorities were aware of this danger, and denied dad custody. The child later died in mom's custody. (Anonymized)
Judges often have judicial immunity for their decisions.
JUDICIAL IMMUNITY HAS BEEN EXPANDED TO INCLUDE JUDGES, TRADITIONAL QUASI-JUDICIAL INDIVIDUALS, AND SOME COURT-RELATED PERSONNEL, SUCH AS COURT CLERKS AND COURT REPORTERSIt is often the case that judges rely on Title IV-D funded child support agency to exercise judicial authority to make custody recommendations. (They sometimes literally give the agencies rubber stamps and allow them to make orders).
VARIOUS TYPES OF ACTS ARE NO LONGER RECOGNIZED AS JUDICIAL CONDUCT WITHIN THE PROTECTION OF IMMUNITY: (1) ACTS SHOWING LACK OF GOOD FAITH; (2) ACTS CRIMINAL IN NATURE; (3) ACTS IN ABSENCE OF AUTHORITY OR IN EXCESS OF JURISDICTION; AND (4) ACTS OF AN ADMINISTRATIVE OR MINISTERIAL NATURE.
OVERVIEW OF JUDICIAL IMMUNITY US Department of Justice Office of Justice Programs https://www.ojp.gov/ncjrs/virtual-library/abstracts/overview-judicial-immunity
Sometimes these agencies focus on their own financial interests or have sexist biases which can impact their recommendations and decisions.
Carol Rhodes is a whistleblower to described such wrongdoings:
Carol Rhodes Former FOC Enforcement Officer Former Enforcement Officer and Investigator https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8M7cEi61W24If dad was denied custody because of financial conflicts of interests or sexism:
Possible failure to respect:
"There is a fundamental right under the Fourteenth Amendment for a parent to oversee the care, custody, and control of a child."Possible cause for a federal civil rights action under:
Troxel v. Granville, 530 U.S. 57 (2000)
https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/530/57/
"protection of civil rights".
"use of the reasonable and prudent parenting standard"
42 U.S. Code § 671
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/42/671
42 U.S. Code § 1983 - Civil action for deprivation of rightsUS courts provide forms:
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/42/1983
Complaint for Violation of Civil Rights (Non-Prisoner)Making child custody recommendations using these biases rather than the factors mandated by law knowingly or through negligence may be possible:
https://www.uscourts.gov/forms/pro-se-forms/complaint-violation-civil-rights-non-prisoner
FraudIntentionally endangering the life of a child through fraud may be depraved indifference.
Fraud is both a civil tort and criminal wrong.
In civil litigation, allegations of fraud might be based on a misrepresentation of fact that was either intentional or negligent. For a statement to be an intentional misrepresentation, the person who made it must either have known the statement was false or been as to its truth. The speaker must have also intended that the person to whom the statement was made would rely on it. The hearer must then have reasonably relied on the promise and also been harmed because of that reliance.
https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/fraud
To constitute depraved indifference, the defendant's conduct must be 'so wanton, so deficient in a moral sense of concern, so lacking in regard for the life or lives of others, and so blameworthy as to warrant the same criminal liability as that which the law imposes upon a person who intentionally causes a crime.Fraud or other felonies which cause the death of victim may be:
https://definitions.uslegal.com/d/depraved-indifference/
As of August 2008, 46 states in the United States had a felony murder rule,[18] under which felony murder is generally first-degree murder. In 24 of those states, it is a capital offense.[19] When the government seeks to impose the death penalty on someone convicted of felony murder, the Eighth Amendment has been interpreted so as to impose additional limitations on the state power. The death penalty may not be imposed if the defendant is merely a minor participant and did not actually kill or intend to kill. However, the death penalty may be imposed if the defendant is a major participant in the underlying felony and exhibits extreme indifference to human life.[20]Please note there is no statue of limitations on the crime of felony murder.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Felony_murder_rule#United_States
A social worker worker who may have knowingly or negligently manufactured a false child custody recommendation may be abusing that child. In so doing they are failing to report their own abuse, or if they are aware of it, the abuse of their coworkers, a crime.
A person who, while engaged in a professional capacity or activity described in subsection (b) of section 226 of the Victims of Child Abuse Act of 1990 on Federal land or in a federally operated (or contracted) facility, or a covered individual as described in subsection (a)(2) of such section 226 who, learns of facts that give reason to suspect that a child has suffered an incident of child abuse, as defined in subsection (c) of that section, and fails to make a timely report as required by subsection (a) of that section, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 1 year or both.The United States pays for the child support agencies under Title IV-D and that law requires protection of civil rights, including the rights of parents. Denying them those rights to get more federal funds is possibly defrauding the United States:
18 U.S. Code § 2258.Failure to report child abuse
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/2258
If two or more persons conspire either to commit any offense against the United States, or to defraud the United States, or any agency thereof in any manner or for any purpose, and one or more of such persons do any act to effect the object of the conspiracy, each shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than five years, or both.If they are knowingly or negligently defrauding the public and the United States, it is also possible honest services fraud:
18 U.S. Code § 371 - Conspiracy to commit offense or to defraud United States
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/371
For the purposes of this chapter, the term “scheme or artifice to defraud” includes a scheme or artifice to deprive another of the intangible right of honest services.Possible criminal conspiracy against rights:
18 U.S. Code § 1346.Definition of “scheme or artifice to defraud”
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/1346
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honest_services_fraud
"If two or more persons conspire to injure, oppress, threaten, or intimidate any person in any State, Territory, Commonwealth, Possession, or District in the free exercise or enjoyment of any right or privilege secured to him by the Constitution or laws of the United States, or because of his having so exercised the same; or"Other possible federal crimes.
18 U.S. Code § 241.Conspiracy against rights
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/241
State child support, parenting time, and child protection, and elder abuse are all primarily funded under federal law Title IV-D and Title IV-E. Consider filing complaints.
HHS Office of Inspector GeneralDepartment of Justice Civil Rights
Phone. 1-800-HHS-TIPS (1-800-447-8477)
https://oig.hhs.gov/fraud/report-fraud/contact.asp
HHS Office of Civil Rights
https://www.hhs.gov/civil-rights/filing-a-complaint/index.html
The Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice, created in 1957 by the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1957, works to uphold the civil and constitutional rights of all Americans, particularly some of the most vulnerable members of our society. The Division enforces federal statutes prohibiting discrimination on the basis of race, color, sex, disability, religion, familial status and national origin.Anyone may report federal crimes to the FBI.
https://www.justice.gov/crt
(202)324-3000Possible basis of a class action lawsuit for similar situated people:
http://tips.fbi.gov/
WHAT ARE SOME EXAMPLES OF CLASS-ACTION LAWSUITS?All parents who pary for any services, including recommendation services, parenting classes, etc which are offered under the deceptive pretext of allowing a parent worried about their abused child to enable them to have more time or custody with them in order to protect them, could form a class action lawsuit.
There are many cases and issues that can be brought as class-action lawsuits. Often, class actions fall into one of the following categories:
...
Consumer: These class actions hold accountable business entities who engage in systematic and fraudulent or illegal business practices that scam or harm the consumer. Examples include antitrust cases like price-fixing, market allocation agreements and monopolistic schemes.All individuals denied employment, promotion, or who simply quits in disgust because their moral beliefs prevent them from participating in any deceptive acts or crimes could form a class action lawsuit.
Employment: Employees who have been discriminated against, employees with immigrant worker issues, workers who have hour and wage issues and employees who have on-the-job injuries or suffer because of employer safety violations can bring class-action lawsuits against employers.All parents and children who suffer as a consequence of deceptive acts or crimes could form a class action lawsuit:
https://www.hbsslaw.com/about/what-is-a-class-action-lawsuit
CIVIL RIGHTS CLASS ACTIONS:I wish you the best of luck in your search for justice.
A SINGULARLY EFFECTIVE TOOL TO COMBAT DISCRIMINATION
For over 50 years, class actions have been among the most powerful tools to secure civil rights in America. Brown v. Board of Education, 1 which outlawed school segregation and set the stage for the entire civil rights movement, was a class action lawsuit. More recent examples include the case portrayed in the Hollywood movie “North Country,” based on the case Jenson v. Eveleth Mines and considered to be the first sexual harassment class action lawsuit.
CENTER FOR JUSTICE & DEMOCRACY
https://centerjd.org/system/files/CivilRightsClassActionsF.pdf
2023.06.04 19:03 chrononaut9 36% body weight loss
 | After years mucking about with WW and then Noom, I got wind of GLP-1s and decided to join one of the proliferation of telehealth services that were offering them. I started on Ozempic, but switched to Mounjaro during the shortage. I started at my highest weight, which is 205 and this is what I have accomplished with the help of GLP-1s. Yesterday, I walked into Lululemon and got size 4 shorts! submitted by chrononaut9 to Mounjaro [link] [comments] I just wanted to post because this would not have been possible without this life changing medication. Even at the same amount of calorie intake, it’s like my body just didn’t know how to process them or use them correctly. This stuff is magic. I am hopeful that it will change the way we view and treat obesity. |
2023.06.04 19:01 AutoModerator Good Deals and Unusual Finds for the Week of: June 04, 2023
This thread operates as an area where we can alert each other to potential deals and unusual finds in the land of tweeds.
Self-advertising for tweed shops, and items that a user are selling are welcome here, though you need to state that you are the person selling it.
The Post format will go like this:
A link, what it is, clothing size, a description of whether it's an unusual find, or a great price or both. And lastly a Currency sign saying how expensive it is. For example in USD:
This is an amazing tweed thing and it costs a lot, but it's got amazing buttons.
In regards to what constitutes cheap: Everyone here is working with different budgets, please understand that others may not be able to afford what you can, and are perfectly fine for it, we're all in different places in life. Simply list the price and carry on.
Good Luck with finding something special!
submitted by AutoModerator to Tweed [link] [comments]
Self-advertising for tweed shops, and items that a user are selling are welcome here, though you need to state that you are the person selling it.
The Post format will go like this:
A link, what it is, clothing size, a description of whether it's an unusual find, or a great price or both. And lastly a Currency sign saying how expensive it is. For example in USD:
- $ - Economical options anywhere from 5$-50$ USD (15£-35£ GBP)
- $$ - Lower Mid-range options 50$-150$ USD (35£-100£ GBP)
- $$$ - Upper Mid-range options 150$-500$ USD (100£-350£ GBP)
- $$$$ - High-End options 500$-3000$ USD (350£-2200£ GBP)
Here's an example of a post:
www.link.com - Blazer Thing - 44R - Unusual Find and Great Deal - $$$$This is an amazing tweed thing and it costs a lot, but it's got amazing buttons.
2023.06.04 18:57 Diddlerontheroof420 on and off flat stools after my first hemorrhoid
23 M [23] [M] 6ft 160lb Caucasian
i have been having on and off flat stools for about 5 months and it started after i got my first hemorrhoid. as far as i know ive never had any flat or flattish stools before. often it will start very flat and small, then grow to normal size and end very thin and small, during the process of going to the bathroom. have also had some weird fuzzy or furry rough edge looking floating stool. i went to the doctor and had a finger test idk what the actual word for it was, he found nothing and a colonoscopy has not been recommended. im not super worried about this, im aware you can have flat stool for no reason or ibs, its just concerning that it has stayed with me since my first hemorrhoid nearly 6 months ago. its on and off theres no telling how its going to be when i go to the bathroom. in addition to all of this, a few days after my first flat poop. i genuinely took the largest poop of my entire life. it was on a randy marsh lvl. so im just so freaking confused man
submitted by Diddlerontheroof420 to poop [link] [comments]
i have been having on and off flat stools for about 5 months and it started after i got my first hemorrhoid. as far as i know ive never had any flat or flattish stools before. often it will start very flat and small, then grow to normal size and end very thin and small, during the process of going to the bathroom. have also had some weird fuzzy or furry rough edge looking floating stool. i went to the doctor and had a finger test idk what the actual word for it was, he found nothing and a colonoscopy has not been recommended. im not super worried about this, im aware you can have flat stool for no reason or ibs, its just concerning that it has stayed with me since my first hemorrhoid nearly 6 months ago. its on and off theres no telling how its going to be when i go to the bathroom. in addition to all of this, a few days after my first flat poop. i genuinely took the largest poop of my entire life. it was on a randy marsh lvl. so im just so freaking confused man
2023.06.04 18:57 Seamoose_Art NoP 2177: Violence [9]
Credit for the original story goes to u/spacepaladin15.
[First] [Previous] [Next]
---
Memory transcript subject: Trish, Venlil civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 30th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
The blankets haphazardly twisted around Trish felt like steel chains. The Terran grandfather clock on the wall dutifully marked each second of her prison sentence. Her eyes hurt from exhaustion, and it was all she could do to keep herself from lashing her tail hard enough to fracture it in frustration.
Several long, pointless hours had come and gone as she sat, self-immobilized with blankets in an attempt to sleep. But sleep did not come. There was a sick feeling of apprehension balled up in her stomach, a cold weight in her soul which silently sentenced her to sleeplessness.
Her instinct, that feeling of a frigid vice around her waist, could usually be counted on as a guiding star that commanded her to act decisively. Right now, it was commanding her to stay awake and alert even as the hours dragged by. Out of respect for its “wishes”, she had abstained from taking any sleep-inducing medication, but her meager patience was quickly waning. Simply sitting there in silence was nothing short of torturous.
The thought of how exactly they’d feed the Arxur still hung over her head like a guillotine, the evening’s furious debate having brought them little closer to a solution. Acquiring any organ-cloning tech would be a nightmare, not to mention the steep cost of life incurred from stealing rare medical equipment. There wasn’t exactly an abundance of wildlife for it to hunt. Maybe some DIY-biomedical tampering could expand its diet, but accidentally condemning it to an agonizing death was far more likely.
Perhaps their fixer had some advice to share. There were only a couple ways she could’ve gotten her hands on a fertilized Arxur egg, and her constant insistence on keeping hidden in every way pointed towards one obvious possibility. How exactly an Arxur had survived the fall of Wriss and stayed clear of the Federation’s all-seeing eye for so long, Trish couldn’t even begin to guess. But if it was possible for her, it would be possible for them, and she might have useful advice for keeping the hatchling fed that she garnered from personal experience.
That said, she couldn’t be blunt in her questioning. If their encryption was broken, they were most likely dead either way, but better to be cautious anyway. Most likely, this abundance of caution was how someone actively fleeing the Federation had to operate in all aspects of life.
Something in Trish’s chest protested. To hell with caution. She wanted to see their reptilian sponsor face-to-face, even digitally. Look her in the eye. If she was right, at least; if this was truly her own offspring she was entrusting them with. It would be hell to set up, and a completely pointless risk for both of them, but some things couldn’t be justified with—
A sudden crack of thunder tore through her thoughts, a rough noise which echoed from the bar above. She further entombed herself in blankets for comfort, letting the warm weight…
Not thunder. A gunshot. Someone had fired a gun upstairs.
Trish was out of bed and shaking someone else awake before her thoughts could catch up and form a plan of action. With her mind still reeling, instinct had taken hold, dragging her by the pit of her stomach to act. It issued clear, firm commands which she followed unthinkingly while her own conscious mind couldn’t keep pace.
Act quickly. Get everyone awake, and get them to the fire escape at the end of the hallway. It didn’t much matter if their assailants found the entrance to the Den or not; flames would start pouring down the stairs any second. They wouldn’t have time to gather belongings. Except her pad; if they found her pad, there’d be no escaping them even if they got away. Grab it. The fire would cleanse the rest of their tracks well enough to not be worth spending extra time.
Tressa was already up and alert, pistol drawn and taking aim at the door while crouched behind a couch in the living room as cover. Besides him sat the backpack, with the egg and incubator still inside. James stumbled out of his bedroom, being dragged out by a jet-black Venlil two thirds his size with such force that Trish was slightly worried she might hurt something in his arm.
When he saw the bag, he tore himself from her grasp and ran to the living room. After slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he rushed back to the hallway with Tressa in tow. Sasha was slipping her flame jacket over loose sleeping clothing, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. She didn’t see Burai anywhere; apparently, he’d slept straight through the noise. Trish was halfway to his room when she remembered that he hadn’t gone to sleep at all. He was upstairs, cleaning the bar.
He was upstairs, where the gunshot had echoed from.
Trish’s mind screamed in protest, but her body kept moving down the hall toward the fire escape. They were out of time. They needed to run. She tore open the fire escape hatch with force, praying that their assailants didn’t have the neighboring alley locked down too. The ladder swung down, missing her snout by a hair. Her limbs moved with a frantic, manic power, dragging her to the surface and forcing her down the street. Somewhere in the back of her head, she felt a pang of thankfulness that she didn’t feel fire on her back as she ran.
—
They stopped running by the time Trish was out of breath. She’d never been too fit even for a Venlil, and her endurance was meaningless compared to their human companions. However, in the dense decaying maze of the sprawl, even a few city blocks was plenty to lose anyone chasing. They gathered in the relative privacy of a burned supermarket, breathing heavily through cloth masks to block out the ash that poured from the walls in unrestored buildings.
Nobody spoke a word. There was nothing to say.
In better times, Trish might’ve broken down into tears, but right now adrenaline forced her into a sharp focus. They were still being hunted. Their options were slim, and growing slimmer every second of inaction.
“Tressa, did you bring your pistol?”
The words came out as choked and barely audible beneath the suffocating cloth that protected her lungs, but it was enough to break the silence. The rest of them jolted out of their stupor, minds visibly refocusing to tackle the problem at hand.
“...Yeah, but it won’t be enough to fight them off. I heard multiple sets of boots up there. If these are exterminators, it’s probably a squad of five. I can’t take that many with just a handgun.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. Kill them, and they’ll just send more. We need to run.”
“And run where, exactly?” James coughed a few times and readjusted his mask before continuing. “There’s nowhere the Federation doesn’t have eyes. Nowhere on Venlil Prime, at least, and we’d have better luck standing our ground than trying to board a ship offworld.”
“...a ship?”
“Yeah, walking into a spaceport is just asking to be— Trish?”
“...there’s a ship… there’s a wrecked UN ship on the dark side of Venlil Prime. It’s not too far from here, but far enough that nobody would ever bother checking out there. I’ve been inside it a couple times. There’s still working lights.”
Tressa muttered to himself, considering their prospects. “Working lights… imagine I could get heat working too. It probably has enough water onboard to last until we can dig a well. I… I could maybe even clone meat if they had Zurulian medical tech. You think we’d be safe there?”
“I don’t think there’s anywhere else to go.”
“And you never thought to tell us about this before now?”
“It never came up.”
James paced nervously, kicking up plumes of dust. It hung in the air for a brief moment, swirling dramatically in the cold light of a fluorescent lamp, before resettling as he leaned against the wall. “So you want to drag us to the dark side of Venlil Prime… Jesus, Trish. I thought there was a reason nobody bothered settling out there. Or at least a reason they didn’t scavenge those wrecks. Hell, even people like us avoid it.”
“There are settlements on the edge, and scavengers comb the darkness up to about a paw’s travel out. But no light means no farming, scarce power, and unyielding cold. Unless you just happened to find an abandoned ship with backup power still burning, it’s a death sentence. The Federation won’t look for us there.”
“...and you ’just happened’ to find one, huh?”
“A friend of mine— no, I’ll tell you about it later. We need to get moving now.”
Sasha sat up, brushing a layer of grime off her jacket. “We need to go back for Beast. No way we can make the journey out without her. Unless you think you can hotwire something, Tressa..?”
“Not a chance. Then again, our chances of retaking Beast seem pretty slim too. Do you have a plan for doing this, or is your ‘plan’ to throw me at them and hope I have more bullets than they have flamer fuel?”
“No. We’ll all go together, and try not to pick a fight we can’t win. Slip in, grab Beast, get out.”
“That’s not a plan, and you know it. That’s wishful thinking. If your best plan is ‘walk in and hope they don’t see us’, then we’re walking to our deaths.”
“If you have a better idea, let’s hear it. Until then, walk faster. The longer we’re gone, the more likely they’ll burn our escape to slag before we return.”
Tressa grumbled, but failed to make any coherent objection as he rose to his feet. He checked his pistol over, making sure ash hadn’t wormed its way into anything vital before slipping it back under his coat as the group stepped out into the street.
It was a common work claw, so the more ruined areas of the sprawl were near-empty. The only sign that people lived here in any capacity were the streetlights and a distant hum of life from more central streets and walkways. Not that their little entourage would draw much attention anyway; out here, ragtag herds of misfits were about as common as the burned-out buildings that permeated the land.
Their little ragtag herd of misfits wouldn’t hardly be missed if they went up in flames. Not by anyone important, that is; a few regulars at the Tipped Quill might be disappointed and some exterminator officer’s spreadsheet would need updating. The world would continue on without them. The world was going to continue on without them. Tressa was right; they were marching to their deaths.
---
[First] [Previous] [Next]
submitted by Seamoose_Art to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
[First] [Previous] [Next]
---
Memory transcript subject: Trish, Venlil civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 30th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
The blankets haphazardly twisted around Trish felt like steel chains. The Terran grandfather clock on the wall dutifully marked each second of her prison sentence. Her eyes hurt from exhaustion, and it was all she could do to keep herself from lashing her tail hard enough to fracture it in frustration.
Several long, pointless hours had come and gone as she sat, self-immobilized with blankets in an attempt to sleep. But sleep did not come. There was a sick feeling of apprehension balled up in her stomach, a cold weight in her soul which silently sentenced her to sleeplessness.
Her instinct, that feeling of a frigid vice around her waist, could usually be counted on as a guiding star that commanded her to act decisively. Right now, it was commanding her to stay awake and alert even as the hours dragged by. Out of respect for its “wishes”, she had abstained from taking any sleep-inducing medication, but her meager patience was quickly waning. Simply sitting there in silence was nothing short of torturous.
The thought of how exactly they’d feed the Arxur still hung over her head like a guillotine, the evening’s furious debate having brought them little closer to a solution. Acquiring any organ-cloning tech would be a nightmare, not to mention the steep cost of life incurred from stealing rare medical equipment. There wasn’t exactly an abundance of wildlife for it to hunt. Maybe some DIY-biomedical tampering could expand its diet, but accidentally condemning it to an agonizing death was far more likely.
Perhaps their fixer had some advice to share. There were only a couple ways she could’ve gotten her hands on a fertilized Arxur egg, and her constant insistence on keeping hidden in every way pointed towards one obvious possibility. How exactly an Arxur had survived the fall of Wriss and stayed clear of the Federation’s all-seeing eye for so long, Trish couldn’t even begin to guess. But if it was possible for her, it would be possible for them, and she might have useful advice for keeping the hatchling fed that she garnered from personal experience.
That said, she couldn’t be blunt in her questioning. If their encryption was broken, they were most likely dead either way, but better to be cautious anyway. Most likely, this abundance of caution was how someone actively fleeing the Federation had to operate in all aspects of life.
Something in Trish’s chest protested. To hell with caution. She wanted to see their reptilian sponsor face-to-face, even digitally. Look her in the eye. If she was right, at least; if this was truly her own offspring she was entrusting them with. It would be hell to set up, and a completely pointless risk for both of them, but some things couldn’t be justified with—
A sudden crack of thunder tore through her thoughts, a rough noise which echoed from the bar above. She further entombed herself in blankets for comfort, letting the warm weight…
Not thunder. A gunshot. Someone had fired a gun upstairs.
Trish was out of bed and shaking someone else awake before her thoughts could catch up and form a plan of action. With her mind still reeling, instinct had taken hold, dragging her by the pit of her stomach to act. It issued clear, firm commands which she followed unthinkingly while her own conscious mind couldn’t keep pace.
Act quickly. Get everyone awake, and get them to the fire escape at the end of the hallway. It didn’t much matter if their assailants found the entrance to the Den or not; flames would start pouring down the stairs any second. They wouldn’t have time to gather belongings. Except her pad; if they found her pad, there’d be no escaping them even if they got away. Grab it. The fire would cleanse the rest of their tracks well enough to not be worth spending extra time.
Tressa was already up and alert, pistol drawn and taking aim at the door while crouched behind a couch in the living room as cover. Besides him sat the backpack, with the egg and incubator still inside. James stumbled out of his bedroom, being dragged out by a jet-black Venlil two thirds his size with such force that Trish was slightly worried she might hurt something in his arm.
When he saw the bag, he tore himself from her grasp and ran to the living room. After slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he rushed back to the hallway with Tressa in tow. Sasha was slipping her flame jacket over loose sleeping clothing, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. She didn’t see Burai anywhere; apparently, he’d slept straight through the noise. Trish was halfway to his room when she remembered that he hadn’t gone to sleep at all. He was upstairs, cleaning the bar.
He was upstairs, where the gunshot had echoed from.
Trish’s mind screamed in protest, but her body kept moving down the hall toward the fire escape. They were out of time. They needed to run. She tore open the fire escape hatch with force, praying that their assailants didn’t have the neighboring alley locked down too. The ladder swung down, missing her snout by a hair. Her limbs moved with a frantic, manic power, dragging her to the surface and forcing her down the street. Somewhere in the back of her head, she felt a pang of thankfulness that she didn’t feel fire on her back as she ran.
—
They stopped running by the time Trish was out of breath. She’d never been too fit even for a Venlil, and her endurance was meaningless compared to their human companions. However, in the dense decaying maze of the sprawl, even a few city blocks was plenty to lose anyone chasing. They gathered in the relative privacy of a burned supermarket, breathing heavily through cloth masks to block out the ash that poured from the walls in unrestored buildings.
Nobody spoke a word. There was nothing to say.
In better times, Trish might’ve broken down into tears, but right now adrenaline forced her into a sharp focus. They were still being hunted. Their options were slim, and growing slimmer every second of inaction.
“Tressa, did you bring your pistol?”
The words came out as choked and barely audible beneath the suffocating cloth that protected her lungs, but it was enough to break the silence. The rest of them jolted out of their stupor, minds visibly refocusing to tackle the problem at hand.
“...Yeah, but it won’t be enough to fight them off. I heard multiple sets of boots up there. If these are exterminators, it’s probably a squad of five. I can’t take that many with just a handgun.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. Kill them, and they’ll just send more. We need to run.”
“And run where, exactly?” James coughed a few times and readjusted his mask before continuing. “There’s nowhere the Federation doesn’t have eyes. Nowhere on Venlil Prime, at least, and we’d have better luck standing our ground than trying to board a ship offworld.”
“...a ship?”
“Yeah, walking into a spaceport is just asking to be— Trish?”
“...there’s a ship… there’s a wrecked UN ship on the dark side of Venlil Prime. It’s not too far from here, but far enough that nobody would ever bother checking out there. I’ve been inside it a couple times. There’s still working lights.”
Tressa muttered to himself, considering their prospects. “Working lights… imagine I could get heat working too. It probably has enough water onboard to last until we can dig a well. I… I could maybe even clone meat if they had Zurulian medical tech. You think we’d be safe there?”
“I don’t think there’s anywhere else to go.”
“And you never thought to tell us about this before now?”
“It never came up.”
James paced nervously, kicking up plumes of dust. It hung in the air for a brief moment, swirling dramatically in the cold light of a fluorescent lamp, before resettling as he leaned against the wall. “So you want to drag us to the dark side of Venlil Prime… Jesus, Trish. I thought there was a reason nobody bothered settling out there. Or at least a reason they didn’t scavenge those wrecks. Hell, even people like us avoid it.”
“There are settlements on the edge, and scavengers comb the darkness up to about a paw’s travel out. But no light means no farming, scarce power, and unyielding cold. Unless you just happened to find an abandoned ship with backup power still burning, it’s a death sentence. The Federation won’t look for us there.”
“...and you ’just happened’ to find one, huh?”
“A friend of mine— no, I’ll tell you about it later. We need to get moving now.”
Sasha sat up, brushing a layer of grime off her jacket. “We need to go back for Beast. No way we can make the journey out without her. Unless you think you can hotwire something, Tressa..?”
“Not a chance. Then again, our chances of retaking Beast seem pretty slim too. Do you have a plan for doing this, or is your ‘plan’ to throw me at them and hope I have more bullets than they have flamer fuel?”
“No. We’ll all go together, and try not to pick a fight we can’t win. Slip in, grab Beast, get out.”
“That’s not a plan, and you know it. That’s wishful thinking. If your best plan is ‘walk in and hope they don’t see us’, then we’re walking to our deaths.”
“If you have a better idea, let’s hear it. Until then, walk faster. The longer we’re gone, the more likely they’ll burn our escape to slag before we return.”
Tressa grumbled, but failed to make any coherent objection as he rose to his feet. He checked his pistol over, making sure ash hadn’t wormed its way into anything vital before slipping it back under his coat as the group stepped out into the street.
It was a common work claw, so the more ruined areas of the sprawl were near-empty. The only sign that people lived here in any capacity were the streetlights and a distant hum of life from more central streets and walkways. Not that their little entourage would draw much attention anyway; out here, ragtag herds of misfits were about as common as the burned-out buildings that permeated the land.
Their little ragtag herd of misfits wouldn’t hardly be missed if they went up in flames. Not by anyone important, that is; a few regulars at the Tipped Quill might be disappointed and some exterminator officer’s spreadsheet would need updating. The world would continue on without them. The world was going to continue on without them. Tressa was right; they were marching to their deaths.
---
[First] [Previous] [Next]
2023.06.04 18:52 ShirtlessChampion Opinions on X5 with kids
Looking for some opinions from those who’ve lived with an X5 with 1 or 2 children. How has the car functioned in everyday life for you? Do you regret not having a full 3rd row, car hasn’t held up well with children, etc? Basically how’s it functioned outside of a review that shows if the car seats fit and a stroller makes it in the trunk.
My wife and I have a Highlander as our primary out of town road trip car but are considering an X5 to replace a full sized sedan with the hopes we’ll evenly use our cars a bit more. We just always turn to the SUV for the ease of getting strollers and gear in and out of the car.
Preferably would like to stay in an X5 vs. going up to an X7. But want to make sure we won’t regret our decision.
submitted by ShirtlessChampion to BMW [link] [comments]
My wife and I have a Highlander as our primary out of town road trip car but are considering an X5 to replace a full sized sedan with the hopes we’ll evenly use our cars a bit more. We just always turn to the SUV for the ease of getting strollers and gear in and out of the car.
Preferably would like to stay in an X5 vs. going up to an X7. But want to make sure we won’t regret our decision.
2023.06.04 18:45 TN_Egyptologist Thoughts of Ancient Egypt: One of the finest depictions of a moustache that have reached us from ancient Egypt is that which belonged to Prince Rahotep. We see here the upper part of a nearly life-size painted limestone statue of him
 | submitted by TN_Egyptologist to OutoftheTombs [link] [comments] |
2023.06.04 18:41 CaptFalconFTW Barbie (2023) is about a plastic doll turned into a real person and has to confront the real world and its problems. This is the plot of the 2000 Disney TV movie Life Size starring Tyra Banks and Lindsay Lohan.
 | submitted by CaptFalconFTW to shittymoviedetails [link] [comments] |
2023.06.04 18:40 Mobile-Inspector-539 Looking for an ultrawide curved monitor (upgrade from 2 flat monitors)
Since one of my 2 monitors is about to die (weird blurryness and in the middle is a horizontal line visible) I was thinking about an upgrade for the second monitor.
Since i already have two higher-refresh rate monitors (144 and 240) I can tell 240 is better than 144 at least for me. 240 may not be neccessary, but something higher than 144 would be good (165/200). However I did not find anything higher than 144hz for the ultrawide monitors in my price category.
My current 2 monitors are these:
- Primary monitor: OMEN X 25f, (24.5 inch, 240hz)
- Secondary monitor (this one is about to die): some 5 year old acer monitor (27 inch, 144hz)
I was actually thinking about just replacing my 27 inch monitor which a second OMEN X 25f, which costs ~266 €, as I'm really happy with this 244hz monitor.
However, I read that many people swapped to ultrawide monitors instead of having 2 seperate monitors. I actually thought whether I could be more productive with an ultrawide monitor as well. Since I have absolutely never seen one in real life nor used one before I will go to some tech market and look whether I can play with some models around (to get a feeling for it).
In the meantime I was researching a couple of models which I could buy eventually, if I go the ultrawide route. I am not partically sure whether a 34 inch curved ultrawide monitor is a good replacement for my one 24.5 inch and my second 27 inch monitor so the question is: Would I need a smaller or even bigger ultrawide monitor?
Assuming 34inch would be the perfect size (not sure though, maybe someone could answer that question) I actually found couple of models which seem almost to be identical and interestingly are about the same price range:
- Acer Nitro XZ342CUP (399€)
- Xiaomi Mi Curved Gaming Monitor 34 (419.95€)
- Gigabyte G34WQC (420.74€)
- AOC Gaming CU34G2X (383.19€)
The all share the following specs:
- 34 inch, curved ultrawide monitor
- 144hz refresh rate
- 3440x1440 resolution
The AOC being the cheapest one, but I read not as many positive reviews for this model.
Here are some final questions:
- I did not find any 34inch curved ultrawide monitor with 200hz+, am I missing something?
- Are there any better alternatives currently available then the ones I listed? If not, which model would you prefer?
I would spend at max 450€.
Best regards
submitted by Mobile-Inspector-539 to ultrawidemasterrace [link] [comments]
Since i already have two higher-refresh rate monitors (144 and 240) I can tell 240 is better than 144 at least for me. 240 may not be neccessary, but something higher than 144 would be good (165/200). However I did not find anything higher than 144hz for the ultrawide monitors in my price category.
My current 2 monitors are these:
- Primary monitor: OMEN X 25f, (24.5 inch, 240hz)
- Secondary monitor (this one is about to die): some 5 year old acer monitor (27 inch, 144hz)
I was actually thinking about just replacing my 27 inch monitor which a second OMEN X 25f, which costs ~266 €, as I'm really happy with this 244hz monitor.
However, I read that many people swapped to ultrawide monitors instead of having 2 seperate monitors. I actually thought whether I could be more productive with an ultrawide monitor as well. Since I have absolutely never seen one in real life nor used one before I will go to some tech market and look whether I can play with some models around (to get a feeling for it).
In the meantime I was researching a couple of models which I could buy eventually, if I go the ultrawide route. I am not partically sure whether a 34 inch curved ultrawide monitor is a good replacement for my one 24.5 inch and my second 27 inch monitor so the question is: Would I need a smaller or even bigger ultrawide monitor?
Assuming 34inch would be the perfect size (not sure though, maybe someone could answer that question) I actually found couple of models which seem almost to be identical and interestingly are about the same price range:
- Acer Nitro XZ342CUP (399€)
- Xiaomi Mi Curved Gaming Monitor 34 (419.95€)
- Gigabyte G34WQC (420.74€)
- AOC Gaming CU34G2X (383.19€)
The all share the following specs:
- 34 inch, curved ultrawide monitor
- 144hz refresh rate
- 3440x1440 resolution
The AOC being the cheapest one, but I read not as many positive reviews for this model.
Here are some final questions:
- I did not find any 34inch curved ultrawide monitor with 200hz+, am I missing something?
- Are there any better alternatives currently available then the ones I listed? If not, which model would you prefer?
I would spend at max 450€.
Best regards
2023.06.04 18:33 Wanderlust063 Update: How I disposed of the ghost woman.
So this is an update on how I accidentally killed a ghost. If you want to know how I accidentally killed a ghost, you can find the story here: [https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/13zet02/help\_i\_accidently\_killed\_a\_ghost\_and\_i\_dont\_know/\].
Around 30 minutes after I made the original post, my coworker, Sunny, came down the basement stairs. Her mouth was agape as she saw the lifeless body of the ghost woman lying near the foot of the stairs. Her head had stopped bleeding the inky liquid, but her eyes were now a milky white color.
She stared at the horrific display before looking back up at me. I thought she would have been freaking out, seeing a dead woman on the floor, but her expression was more of dismay. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh. "What happened?"
The coherent thoughts in my head that would have clarified everything came out as a jumbled mess from my mouth. "I-I was watching the tapes and sorting, and there were only two tapes left, so..." My rambly explanation was cut short by her accusatory shout, "So you watched the tape with the red strip!"
The conviction in her voice made my heart sink. I retorted as quickly as she had cut me off, "No! I said there were only two tapes. Of course, I would choose the one that I had to watch and not the one I wasn't supposed to!"
Sunny was taken aback by what I said. "So you're telling me the tape without the red strip caused this?"
"Yes! For crying out loud, she climbed out of the TV!" My voice cracked a bit after I finished my sentence.
Sunny breathed out a deep sigh and walked down the remaining steps, taking extra caution not to step into the black puddle of blood. She seemed to be investigating the scene, looking at the water that spilled out of the TV and ran down the TV cart.
"Where are her footprints?" the question caught me off guard.
"It dried up," I answered.
"In under 5 minutes?"
I stared at her, baffled. "What do you mean? I've been waiting for you for like an hour and a half."
"What? But I ran all the way here. 5 minutes," the sincerity in her voice was undeniable.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time displayed. "See, it's 7:30. I called you at 6:30. Where were you at that time?" I spoke while raising my phone up to her.
Sunny's eyes started to widen as she raised her arm, pulling back the sleeve to reveal a very fancy-looking wristwatch. "The time is six past six," her voice quivered. I walked over to also look at her watch, and she was right. The time on her watch was six past six, six minutes past six o'clock. We both looked at each other in utter shock.
Behind us, we heard the sound of a loud static eruption. Both of our heads turned in sync to look at the television set where we heard the loud bang. The sight was captivating. I don't know how to describe it accurately, but the screen of the TV was overflowing with blue static, like smoke pouring out and floating up to the ceiling.
I found myself walking over to the television set and decided to see if I could stick my hand in. I have no idea why I thought of this idea, but I did. Astoundingly, my hand went through the TV. It felt cold and wet, with the sensation of bubbles clinging to my arm, as if I had stuck my hand into a large bucket of club soda. I pulled my hand out, drenched in the bluish water. I looked back at Sunny and saw that we were both thinking the same thing.
Now, if you had told me that I would be dragging the body of a ghost woman across a basement to force through a TV that looked like a portal to a watery dimension, I would have laughed and slapped you across the face. But, with the help of Sunny, we successfully dragged the corpse all the way to the television. Now came the part of dumping her body into the TV portal. We managed to get her head into the TV and were busy trying to maneuver her shoulder in as well.
We took a break when half of her torso was in the TV portal, only showing her backside. Pushing a fully-grown woman into a box TV-sized portal proved really tiring. After the break, we went back to work. Only this time, the ghost woman's hand twitched. I yelped as I saw her index finger slightly curl, and Sunny let out a bunch of startled curses.
Our screams grew as we saw the ghost start to reanimate. Her hand curled into fists, violently swinging as her legs kicked. Her ear-piercing wails came back full force, as if her skull being cracked on a bunch of stairs had merely paused it.
Now, for the second and hopefully final time, I acted out of sheer panic. I ran up to the television, grabbed her legs, and shoved her deeper into the TV portal. She beat my chest with her kicks and made my ears ring with her blood-curdling screeches, but I refused to let up. I finally got her all the way through the TV as quickly as humanly possible. I yanked the cords linking the TV to the VHS player. Finally, her wails were cut short as the TV showed static.
For good measure, I also took the VHS out of the player and tossed it back into the box. I looked back at Sunny, who remained frozen, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes widened. For a long while, she imitated a statue. She finally spoke after a while, "Hey, um..."
"Yeah?" I said, perking my ears.
"We're not gonna say anything, right?"
"I wasn't planning on it."
She returned to her animated state, and we both walked out of the basement, climbing the stairs. "Are we gonna clean up the blood?" I asked from behind.
"I'll do it later tonight. But how did you kick a ghost?"
"I don't know. I either have a superpower, or it was just a really shitty ghost."
Sunny chuckled at the remark as we left the basement, now entering the warehouse. She stopped before turning around and flashing the light almost in my eyes. "Um... Are you gonna quit?" the question was a bit out of the blue but considering what happened, probably not totally unexpected.
"Maybe. I mean, other than what just happened today, this job is pretty sweet," my response seemed to ease her as she gave a light smirk. I then asked her, "You gonna quit?" She immediately retorted, "Oh god no. Where else would I go, retail?" I laughed at her response to my question, and we walked back to the front of the store. The manager saw me appear and walked down to greet me.
"Hello, new employee. How was your shift as an archivist?" The manager flashed his perfect row of teeth and smirked at me. "It went well," I responded, a bit nervous.
"Good, good. Did you watch all the VHS tapes as required?"
"Yes, sir, but there was one with a red strip that I didn't watch."
"Oh, yes, how fantastic. Now..." the manager pulled something out of his pocket, still maintaining eye contact. "Here is your bonus. Spend it on something good." He gave me a light slap on the shoulder before walking back to his office.
I looked down at the $20 bill in my hand. All that for $20. I can at least buy a couple of tubs of ice cream with this money. I grabbed my things and left the store, saying goodbye to Sunny as I walked out.
I am now typing this story in the comfort of my apartment, also with a half tub of ice cream on my lap. This might be my last post; I'm not really sure. I mean, some interesting things are bound to happen if I take the night shift, right?
submitted by Wanderlust063 to nosleep [link] [comments]
Around 30 minutes after I made the original post, my coworker, Sunny, came down the basement stairs. Her mouth was agape as she saw the lifeless body of the ghost woman lying near the foot of the stairs. Her head had stopped bleeding the inky liquid, but her eyes were now a milky white color.
She stared at the horrific display before looking back up at me. I thought she would have been freaking out, seeing a dead woman on the floor, but her expression was more of dismay. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh. "What happened?"
The coherent thoughts in my head that would have clarified everything came out as a jumbled mess from my mouth. "I-I was watching the tapes and sorting, and there were only two tapes left, so..." My rambly explanation was cut short by her accusatory shout, "So you watched the tape with the red strip!"
The conviction in her voice made my heart sink. I retorted as quickly as she had cut me off, "No! I said there were only two tapes. Of course, I would choose the one that I had to watch and not the one I wasn't supposed to!"
Sunny was taken aback by what I said. "So you're telling me the tape without the red strip caused this?"
"Yes! For crying out loud, she climbed out of the TV!" My voice cracked a bit after I finished my sentence.
Sunny breathed out a deep sigh and walked down the remaining steps, taking extra caution not to step into the black puddle of blood. She seemed to be investigating the scene, looking at the water that spilled out of the TV and ran down the TV cart.
"Where are her footprints?" the question caught me off guard.
"It dried up," I answered.
"In under 5 minutes?"
I stared at her, baffled. "What do you mean? I've been waiting for you for like an hour and a half."
"What? But I ran all the way here. 5 minutes," the sincerity in her voice was undeniable.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time displayed. "See, it's 7:30. I called you at 6:30. Where were you at that time?" I spoke while raising my phone up to her.
Sunny's eyes started to widen as she raised her arm, pulling back the sleeve to reveal a very fancy-looking wristwatch. "The time is six past six," her voice quivered. I walked over to also look at her watch, and she was right. The time on her watch was six past six, six minutes past six o'clock. We both looked at each other in utter shock.
Behind us, we heard the sound of a loud static eruption. Both of our heads turned in sync to look at the television set where we heard the loud bang. The sight was captivating. I don't know how to describe it accurately, but the screen of the TV was overflowing with blue static, like smoke pouring out and floating up to the ceiling.
I found myself walking over to the television set and decided to see if I could stick my hand in. I have no idea why I thought of this idea, but I did. Astoundingly, my hand went through the TV. It felt cold and wet, with the sensation of bubbles clinging to my arm, as if I had stuck my hand into a large bucket of club soda. I pulled my hand out, drenched in the bluish water. I looked back at Sunny and saw that we were both thinking the same thing.
Now, if you had told me that I would be dragging the body of a ghost woman across a basement to force through a TV that looked like a portal to a watery dimension, I would have laughed and slapped you across the face. But, with the help of Sunny, we successfully dragged the corpse all the way to the television. Now came the part of dumping her body into the TV portal. We managed to get her head into the TV and were busy trying to maneuver her shoulder in as well.
We took a break when half of her torso was in the TV portal, only showing her backside. Pushing a fully-grown woman into a box TV-sized portal proved really tiring. After the break, we went back to work. Only this time, the ghost woman's hand twitched. I yelped as I saw her index finger slightly curl, and Sunny let out a bunch of startled curses.
Our screams grew as we saw the ghost start to reanimate. Her hand curled into fists, violently swinging as her legs kicked. Her ear-piercing wails came back full force, as if her skull being cracked on a bunch of stairs had merely paused it.
Now, for the second and hopefully final time, I acted out of sheer panic. I ran up to the television, grabbed her legs, and shoved her deeper into the TV portal. She beat my chest with her kicks and made my ears ring with her blood-curdling screeches, but I refused to let up. I finally got her all the way through the TV as quickly as humanly possible. I yanked the cords linking the TV to the VHS player. Finally, her wails were cut short as the TV showed static.
For good measure, I also took the VHS out of the player and tossed it back into the box. I looked back at Sunny, who remained frozen, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes widened. For a long while, she imitated a statue. She finally spoke after a while, "Hey, um..."
"Yeah?" I said, perking my ears.
"We're not gonna say anything, right?"
"I wasn't planning on it."
She returned to her animated state, and we both walked out of the basement, climbing the stairs. "Are we gonna clean up the blood?" I asked from behind.
"I'll do it later tonight. But how did you kick a ghost?"
"I don't know. I either have a superpower, or it was just a really shitty ghost."
Sunny chuckled at the remark as we left the basement, now entering the warehouse. She stopped before turning around and flashing the light almost in my eyes. "Um... Are you gonna quit?" the question was a bit out of the blue but considering what happened, probably not totally unexpected.
"Maybe. I mean, other than what just happened today, this job is pretty sweet," my response seemed to ease her as she gave a light smirk. I then asked her, "You gonna quit?" She immediately retorted, "Oh god no. Where else would I go, retail?" I laughed at her response to my question, and we walked back to the front of the store. The manager saw me appear and walked down to greet me.
"Hello, new employee. How was your shift as an archivist?" The manager flashed his perfect row of teeth and smirked at me. "It went well," I responded, a bit nervous.
"Good, good. Did you watch all the VHS tapes as required?"
"Yes, sir, but there was one with a red strip that I didn't watch."
"Oh, yes, how fantastic. Now..." the manager pulled something out of his pocket, still maintaining eye contact. "Here is your bonus. Spend it on something good." He gave me a light slap on the shoulder before walking back to his office.
I looked down at the $20 bill in my hand. All that for $20. I can at least buy a couple of tubs of ice cream with this money. I grabbed my things and left the store, saying goodbye to Sunny as I walked out.
I am now typing this story in the comfort of my apartment, also with a half tub of ice cream on my lap. This might be my last post; I'm not really sure. I mean, some interesting things are bound to happen if I take the night shift, right?
2023.06.04 18:20 Green_madam 34 [F4M] #Ukraine search for husband
This text is only for single man without kids, who searchs for wife. You can be Christian (practicing or not) or atheist.
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
submitted by Green_madam to AgeGapRomance [link] [comments]
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
2023.06.04 18:19 Green_madam 34 [F4M] Ukraine/Anywhere for husband
This text is only for single man without kids, who searchs for wife. You can be Christian (practicing or not) or atheist.
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
submitted by Green_madam to R4R30Plus [link] [comments]
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
2023.06.04 18:19 Green_madam 34 [F4M] Ukraine/Anywhere for husband
This text is only for single man without kids, who searchs for wife. You can be Christian (practicing or not) or atheist.
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
submitted by Green_madam to R4R40Plus [link] [comments]
Important, CHAT DOESN'T WORK CORRECTLY. I can't see and reply to chat requests, can't fix it. Text to letter section. How to do that? Open my profile > More options > Send message. Not chat but message.
I'm a single female from Ukraine (can meet with you in another country, more safe for you). I search for a single childless man older than 35 (older- better) for a serious relationship, first without physical aspects. Your age and appearance are not important. I wish you are self-employed, your own master and boss or digital nomad who is not bended strongly with certain place of living or office shedual but that is not a strict demand.
Sometimes men expect physical aspects very fast and leave fast if not get it soon. In my opinion, this means the first interest was not in the relationship itself but in these aspects. That's why I want to find a relationship first without it. So I can be sure that a man stays near me because he really likes me, not for physical satisfaction itself. That means not only one sphere of relationship. People divide into 2 groups. Those who give more than take and opposite. Wishing to gain satisfaction fast leads to frustration and disappointment.
I have got few marriage offers in the past, but felt that they were not serious because the men were too young, not well settled and made these offers trying to gain something. Being not a young girl, I still wait for a right person—a man who will be happy staying with me and will do everything for me by his own wish. Sounds too vanilla? Yes, I am a dreamer.
If things work, I can relocate to you or to invite you to live in Ukraine after the war ends. If you are able to set up app called telegram for chat and meet in real life before autumn, then please text me. I prefer well written letter that was sent in inbox letters, not in chat requests.
Now more detaily about me. Never been married, no kids (will not have in the nearest time and probably a childfree), no pets . Was raised in small village at farmer's house (the nature was great but didn't like the hard working lifestyle) and prefer city life. I don't smoke, don't drink alcohol . You will not have to suffer dealing with numerous people around me because I don't have friends (people disappear when interests and lifestyles become different) and my family is very small. I don't visit bars, clubs or parties and not addicted to social networks. As an introvert, I can't open to someone fast because have been cheated by those whom trusted. Life teaches, only real actions show the true person's intentions, not just his words.
About two negative moments. The first is my passivity. I was raised in a culture where it was considered vulgar if a woman is too active in the path of creating a relationship. Yes, it is obvious that active women will get success sooner than passive one but I can't change myself and prefer the one who will take initiative and will be just classic old-fashioned gentleman.
The second negative moment is that being introverted, I totally dislike situation when I have to contact with unknown people, especially with men, especially in field of relationship. That sounds not logical because how can someone know anyone if he/she doesn't like starting this contact? There is only one solution for me. I can start contact only if I have already got very detailed information about person so this makes illusion that he is already not a stranger. Most of men send short message, expecting that I will ask many questions trying to find out his personality. The truth is that I will not do it. Yes, you can call me bad for that, but I will reply only to well written detailed letter from someone who will not make me to ask many questions but will write proper letter with basic information by himself. Man's appearance means nothing for me, but what he says and what is more important, what he does - that's important.
That were negative moments. Obviously, there are much more of them but I'll let you discover size of all iceberg by yourself. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Please, be patient and don't expect fast replies, sometimes it is not easy to do due to many reasons. That one who puts efforts in his first letter will get reply faster.
P.S.S. Chat doesn't work correctly and doesn't show messages and requests there. Text only in letters section.
2023.06.04 18:18 Defiant_Sweet_8708 Unveiling the Beauty Arsenal: Mastering Makeup Magic with Large Powder Brushes
When it comes to flawless makeup application, the right tools make all the difference. Among the must-haves in any makeup kit is a large powder brush. These versatile brushes are designed to evenly distribute and blend powder products, such as setting powder, bronzer, and blush, for a seamless and airbrushed finish. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the benefits, uses, and key considerations when choosing large powder brushes. Whether you're a makeup enthusiast or a professional artist, read on to discover how these brushes can revolutionize your beauty routine.
b. Bronzer and Blush Application: These brushes are perfect for adding warmth and dimension to the face. Whether you're contouring, adding bronzer, or applying blush, the large powder brush effortlessly blends the product, giving you a natural, sun-kissed look.
c. Body Powder Application: Don't limit yourself to just your face! Large powder brushes are great for applying body powders, shimmering powders, or setting sprays on your neck, shoulders, and décolletage for a beautiful glow and subtle fragrance.
c. Handle Design: A sturdy and comfortable handle is essential for easy maneuverability during application. Consider brushes with ergonomic handles for a comfortable grip, especially if you'll be using them for extended periods.
d. Shedding and Longevity: Choose a brush from a reputable brand known for high-quality craftsmanship. Quality brushes are less likely to shed and will last longer, making them a worthwhile investment.
c. Clean Regularly: To maintain the performance and longevity of your large powder brush, clean it regularly with a gentle brush cleaner or mild soap. This will remove any product buildup, bacteria, and oils, ensuring a smooth and hygienic application.
d. Store Properly: Store your large powder brush in a clean and dry area, away from humidity and direct sunlight. Proper storage preserves the shape and integrity of the bristles, prolonging the life of the brush.
Conclusion: Large powder brushes are an essential tool for achieving a flawless makeup look. With their ability to evenly distribute powder products, these versatile brushes ensure a seamless and natural finish. When choosing a large powder brush, consider factors such as bristle material, density, handle design, and longevity. By following proper techniques and maintenance, you can make the most of your large powder brush and elevate your makeup game to new heights. So go ahead, invest in a high-quality large powder brush and experience the transformative power it brings to your beauty routine.
submitted by Defiant_Sweet_8708 to u/Defiant_Sweet_8708 [link] [comments]
- The Power of a Large Powder Brush: Large powder brushes, as the name suggests, feature a larger surface area and fluffy bristles, allowing for effortless and even application of powder products. Their size enables quick and efficient coverage, making them ideal for dusting setting powder all over the face, neck, and décolletage. The soft, fluffy bristles ensure that the powder is diffused evenly, preventing any patchiness or cakiness.
- Versatile Uses: Large powder brushes are incredibly versatile and can be used for various purposes:
b. Bronzer and Blush Application: These brushes are perfect for adding warmth and dimension to the face. Whether you're contouring, adding bronzer, or applying blush, the large powder brush effortlessly blends the product, giving you a natural, sun-kissed look.
c. Body Powder Application: Don't limit yourself to just your face! Large powder brushes are great for applying body powders, shimmering powders, or setting sprays on your neck, shoulders, and décolletage for a beautiful glow and subtle fragrance.
- Factors to Consider When Choosing a Large Powder Brush: a. Bristle Material: Opt for synthetic bristles, as they are cruelty-free, easier to clean, and do not absorb as much product as natural hair bristles.
c. Handle Design: A sturdy and comfortable handle is essential for easy maneuverability during application. Consider brushes with ergonomic handles for a comfortable grip, especially if you'll be using them for extended periods.
d. Shedding and Longevity: Choose a brush from a reputable brand known for high-quality craftsmanship. Quality brushes are less likely to shed and will last longer, making them a worthwhile investment.
- Tips for Using Large Powder Brushes: a. Tap off Excess Product: Before applying any powder to your face, gently tap the brush on the back of your hand or lightly shake off the excess product. This ensures a light and buildable application.
c. Clean Regularly: To maintain the performance and longevity of your large powder brush, clean it regularly with a gentle brush cleaner or mild soap. This will remove any product buildup, bacteria, and oils, ensuring a smooth and hygienic application.
d. Store Properly: Store your large powder brush in a clean and dry area, away from humidity and direct sunlight. Proper storage preserves the shape and integrity of the bristles, prolonging the life of the brush.
Conclusion: Large powder brushes are an essential tool for achieving a flawless makeup look. With their ability to evenly distribute powder products, these versatile brushes ensure a seamless and natural finish. When choosing a large powder brush, consider factors such as bristle material, density, handle design, and longevity. By following proper techniques and maintenance, you can make the most of your large powder brush and elevate your makeup game to new heights. So go ahead, invest in a high-quality large powder brush and experience the transformative power it brings to your beauty routine.
2023.06.04 18:17 TheSandwichMeat How many people would it take to eat a planet sized meatball?
This is absolutely pushing the limits of this sub, as this absolutely IS a stupid question but Idc.
Let's say there's a fully cooked, not at all spoiling, not at all affecting gravity or causing issues with Earth or the Moon or the satellites in any way, planet sized meatball just by the upper atmosphere for people to eat. This meatball is also somehow nutritionally perfect, so everyone can exclusively consume parts of it for their entire life if they wanted. How long would it be up there, before humanity would finish it?
submitted by TheSandwichMeat to NoStupidQuestions [link] [comments]
Let's say there's a fully cooked, not at all spoiling, not at all affecting gravity or causing issues with Earth or the Moon or the satellites in any way, planet sized meatball just by the upper atmosphere for people to eat. This meatball is also somehow nutritionally perfect, so everyone can exclusively consume parts of it for their entire life if they wanted. How long would it be up there, before humanity would finish it?