Toxic Rats: Geoff, Scott, Leshawna, Sammy, Trent
Mutant Maggots: Anne Maria, Katie, Molly, Scarlett, Dave, DJ
Episode 04: Finders Creepers
"Last time, on Total Drama Revenge of the Island!" Chris opened over a stock shot of the camp, the recap montage starting off with a clip of the contestants racing off towards the side of Mt. Looming Tragedy. "Twelve bumbling buffoons battled it out in a brutal buffet of bombastica," Chef was shown gleefully dropping ice blocks on the climbing campers, catching Geoff and Scott but narrowly missing Molly and almost catching Anne Maria.
"Why all the 'B' words?" B was shown demonstrating his couch invention created from junk, "Because, B proved he was a brave and brilliant improviser who scored big time for his team!" B used an ice pick to poke holes onto a shard of ice and placed it on top of the castle, directing the sun beam towards the Maggots' base and melting it effectively. "Until his bitter teammate Scott allowed brainy Molly to botch it on purpose and B got the boot," Molly threw a snowball onto the shard, melting the castle and B was shown being flung into the night.
"And now," Chris said, popping up in front of a shot of the full moon in a cloudy sky with a lit candle in his hand, marking the end of the recap montage, "tonight's challenge is about fear." He made a devilish look. "And everyone knows fear is a dish best served, in the dark!" he said in an exaggeratedly spooky manner, an eerie sound playing as he laughed evilly. "Huh?" he stopped suddenly, the camera pulling back to reveal Chef standing next to him...dressed like a showgirl with lots of peacock feathers. "Chef!" the host said in annoyance.
"Wardrobe was all out of vampire costumes," Chef explained as the series's capstone then began to play.
"It's all scary!" Chris said, walking off to the left. "Other than that," he scowled and gestured back toward his off-screen assistant. "Right here! Right now!" he resumed his usual demeanor. "On Total! Drama! Revenge, of the Island!" He adopted his spooky tone as he finished the title, and ended with another evil laugh.
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Frogs and crickets chirped and croaked, joined by an owl's hoots as the episode opened on a shot of the full moon. The camera panned down to the cabins as the sound of snoring was added to the nighttime mix, and the scene cut inside to the girls' side of the Maggots' cabin where Anne Maria and Katie were sleeping peacefully in the bunk they shared. Dave and DJ were also shown sound asleep on the boys' side, and the scene cut to the Rat boys to show Geoff also sound asleep.
The camera cut next to show Sammy waking up with a yawn. She stretched her arms out for a few good seconds and fell right back to sleep...until the sudden shrill wail of a blow horn pierced the air.
"RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" Chris hollered from off-screen as the scene cut back outside, the blowhorn continuing even over the panicked shouts of the campers.
The camera briefly cut to a close-up of the blowhorn still blowing, then over to the Maggots' cabin as they ran outside fully dressed – first Katie screaming "What's happening?!"; then DJ just screaming; then Scarlett yelling out "This is unethical!"; then Anne Maria just hollering; and then finally Dave coming out, calling out "I'm wide awake!"
The Rats were shown next, Scott grunting "Me first!" as he shoved Geoff down the stairs and slid down the railing; Leshawna quickly running after him; Sammy screaming at the top of her lungs; and Trent coming out last at around the same time while screaming.
They assembled nervously in the common area between cabins, where Chris – wearing a pair of heavy earmuffs – finally eased up on the blowhorn. "Glad you all could make it," he grinned as he took off his headgear.
Molly soon arrived later. "Is there an attack or what?" she asked her teammates.
Katie shot her a quick glare. "Of course not, but why would you care about anything but yourself?"
Confessional: Molly
"Olay, yes," Molly moaned. "I left my teammates behind, but that was because I wanted to win the challenge first. I was always taught to focus on one thing before moving on to the next, and that's what I did." She grew concerned. "I don't see any problems with that."
Confessional Ends
"I hope you're all ready," Chris continued, "'cause it's challenge time!" He stepped to the side as Chef rolled up a large widescreen television on a wheeled cart. It was currently displaying an aerial map of the island with several additional colored icons – six bright green skulls scattered around the island; three yellowish envelopes over the campfire pit, the western edge of the campgrounds, and deeper into the forest; and a large purple spider in the middle of it all.
"We're gonna do a challenge?" Anne Maria wondered. "In the middle of the woods? At night?"
Confessional: Anne Maria
"Doesn't Chris know that we need our hours of sleep?" Anne Maria criticized. "I haven't even done my hair."
Confessional Ends
"Your challenge," Chris continued as though there'd been no interruption, "a scavenger hunt for three creepy souvenirs. Your locations? A haunted forest," he walked across to the other side of the television, "a scaaary pet cemetery, and an extra spooktastic cave. First team to each location gets a special clue," he said, the camera zooming in as he pointed towards the westernmost letter icon on the screen. "But watch out for booby traps," he added jovially as he moved his finger to one of the skulls, "I really went to town with them, heheh." The campers were shown watching warily.
"So move fast," the host added, "and stick together. You'll be penalized for each player you lose!"
"Umm, what's with the giant spider?" Sammy asked.
"Oh yeah," Chris answered as the shot zoomed in on the icon in question, "there's some kinda gigantic mutated spider sorta running around loose on the island."
The cast immediately started to voice their fears and protests.
"A huge, humongous spider is on the loose?!" DJ hugged Katie out of fear.
"I guess so," Katie said frightfully, but was secretly enjoying DJ hugging her.
The shot zoomed in on Dave in particular as he looked around, moaning "Oh no..." in annoyance.
Confessional: Dave
"Ever since I was a kid, I've never been a huge fan of spiders," Dave admitted. "They leave messy webs everywhere they go, and it takes me a long time to clean them up in places like my uncle's attic or my aunt's basement." A spider soon crawled down on a string. "This is gonna be unpopular, but I'm not a huge fan of Spider-Man because of my dislike of spiders." The spider hissed after hearing the criticism, making Dave flinch.
Confessional: Leshawna
"I may seem fearless on the outside, but spiders are one of the few things I'm terrified of," Leshawna said nervously. "Anything with eight legs is frightening enough."
Confessional Ends
"And since I want to keep things fair for both teams," Chris continued, "I decided to bring back an eliminated contestant for the Rats."
"It's so good to be back here!" the familiar voice of Sierra was heard, becoming more recognizable when she ran next to Chris.
"Sierra! I haven't introduced you yet!" Chris snapped at her.
"If I waited any longer, the episode would've been past the usual 22-minute runtime," Sierra explained. "I'll just go join the Toxic Rats and save you the trouble of doing so since I've rejoined."
Chris watched the fangirl run up to the contestants in annoyance. "Long story short, Sierra is the returnee." Chris regained his smile, and the dramatic and almost heroic tune started playing again. "There's nothing to fear but mortal terror itself! Talk soon," he added impishly, sounding his blowhorn once again.
The twelve campers ran off towards the woods.
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The footage flashed ahead to another shot of the full moon over the forested hills of Wawanakwa, an owl hooting as the scene cut down to ground level. The logo of the Toxic Rats appeared in the corner of the screen just before the team itself did, running up and stopping in front of a tree with a loudspeaker set up in its branches.
"We're in first place! Sweet!" Geoff cheered just before the loudspeaker whined into activity.
"Welcome to the Haunted Forest!" Chris announced over it, the shot panning downward to show the six Rats gathering around a small crack in the ground. "Your clue can be found at the base of this tree!" Sierra reached into the hole...and screamed in pain as something metallic snapped inside the hole.
"Inside a bear trap," Chris finished his announcement with a laugh.
Sierra withdrew her hand from the hole, the trap clamped down firmly on her arm – though she was at least clutching a note in her hand. "Here! Read the clue," she said, passing it to a mildly shocked Sammy. Just as she was about to read it, the sound of approaching footsteps distracted her and her teammates.
"Bad news guys," Anne Maria commented from the six Maggots. "They have the clue."
"Even with a team advantage they still managed to beat us," Katie reminded them.
"We can let the opposing team have their clue," Scarlett said, looking back towards her teammates. "I have another plan," she said, running ahead with her teammates in tow.
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The shot cut to the Maggots as they stopped at a clearing further along the trail. "So what's the plan?" Katie asked the girl in front.
"Find a place to hide so we can follow the Rats and their clue to our first souvenir," Scarlett answered. "Into that bush!"
The Maggots dived and painfully tried to hide in a thorn bush.
"Be quiet," Dave hissed, "They're coming."
"Inside a knot is a nest," Sammy read as the scene cut to the Rats. "Your souvenir lives with a pest. Find Polaris to travel northwest? Polaris is the North Star."
"The North Star is right there, so this way's northwest! There's a path!" Trent declared. He ran off, the rest of his teammates following suit.
"Now we follow!" Scarlett declared as the rest of her teammates came out of the bush.
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The Rats' logo reappeared as the footage skipped ahead again to them running along through the woods.
"Inside a knot is a nest," Geoff muttered to himself as the shot zoomed in on him. "Hey Sammy, what was the rest of that poem again?" he called back without taking his eyes off the path ahead.
When he didn't get an answer he immediately skidded to a stop. "Sammy?!" he yelled in rising panic, and looked back to see nobody behind him.
The shot cut back to show that the rest of the Rats had stopped in their tracks. "What? Did we lose the mouse?" Scott asked.
Geoff gulped. "We get a penalty for each player we lose, right?" he asked nervously.
"And there's a spider crawling around, right?!" Leshawna said in panic. The shot cut outward as he did so, showing a large purple spider crawling down through the shadows of the forest trees.
"We're looking for a knot with a nest, right?" Scott looked off to the right; the camera quick-panned over to a large tree with a noticeable hollow knot in the trunk with the hints of a nest inside; a few green and red marks had been spray-painted on the bark under it.
"There it is!" Leshawna said, immediately rushing towards it.
"But what about Sammy?" Trent asked his team.
"We'll look for her after we get the souvenir," Sierra assured him.
Leshawna started climbing up the trunk as the rest of her team ran up to join her, and soon began to root through the tree hollow with one arm.
Suddenly, a large eye opened up inside the hollow and stared directly at Leshawna. She screamed, and several squid-like tentacles reached out of the tree's other hollows. One quickly grabbed her around the neck and held her up, while another gave her a few wet slaps then poked her in the eye.
"My eye!" Leshawna yelped in pain and terror. In response the tentacle tightened its grip, and Leshawna began to choke.
"What do we do!?" Sierra yelled in panic.
Geoff looked around, then bent down and picked up a handful of small rocks. "We can throw these stones at the octo guy!"
"Good idea!" Scott said as he and his team picked up rocks of their own and began throwing them at the creature, but they seemed to be hitting Leshawna more than the mutant squid-tree monster. Eventually, the thing just raised its captive up even higher, then slammed her down onto the ground and hissed at the others.
"RUN!" Geoff shouted, turning to flee as a tentacle shot towards them, forcing them to scatter.
Unfortunately, Trent was unable to get away in time and was lifted up by the leg. Trent cried in pain as the mutant began to punch him in the stomach with a curled-up tentacle.
The sounds of pain and wet punches caused Leshawna to get frustrated. "No way am I gonna get pushed around or let a squid attack my teammates!" she declared, getting back on her feet and climbing up the tree-squid's trunk while it was distracted. "Quit buggin' us!" she cried as she punched the mutant in the eye.
The beast bellowed in pain, dropping Trent and retracting into its tree. As soon as he got back up, a strand of spider's webbing shot down from above, sticking on to his head and pulling him away from the floor.
Leshawna reached into the knot once again, quickly and triumphantly pulling out a brass key. "And that's how I roll!" she called down to her teammates.
She dropped down to the forest floor, and landed in front of Geoff, who grinned when he saw it. "We got the key, Trent." Geoff received no response as Scott rejoined.
"Trent?!" Leshawna yelled out in concern. "Where are you?!"
As she panicked, the shot changed to a perspective further away, and the footage switched to an infrared shot of the four Rats.
"Guess he's gone," Sierra sighed sadly. "On the plus side, we found the key."
"We lost two players!" Leshawna said. "Shouldn't we go and look for them?"
"Knowing Chris, he probably has them trapped someplace else, so I'm not too worried right now," Scott brushed it off.
"You've got a point there," Geoff agreed.
Just then, the six Maggots arrived on the scene.
Scott was the first to notice them. "No luck here," he quickly said with faux disappointment, "Do you want to see if Sammy and Trent saw anything better over there?" he looked back and asked Sierra, Leshawna, and Geoff.
"Absolutely. It's not just the three of us," Sierra caught on before they turned and ran off.
"I see something!" Katie pointed off to the camera's right – the direction of the squid-tree. "Team colors!" The camera briefly cut over to the knot in question, with a focus on the marks below it in the two teams' colors.
"Excellent eye, Katie," Scarlett complimented while DJ ran to the tree.
"I'm not just a phone addict, y'know," Katie laughed a bit.
"I got the key, everyone," the camera cut to DJ who was in the tree's hollow and holding out a key. He threw the key in front of Dave and Molly.
"Way to go, DJ!" Molly said.
"Now you want to support us," Dave snarked at her. "Where was that when I was frozen?"
"Are you still mad about that?" Molly groaned.
"Of course we are," Katie snorted.
"You don't just leave your teammates behind," Dave lectured.
"Whatever happened happened," Anne Maria got in between them. "Let's focus more on the challenge and less on squabbling right now."
Confessional: Anne Maria
"I'm here to start no fights," Anne Maria confessed. "What Molly did was messed up, but they can scold her after the challenge."
Confessional: Molly
"Thank you, Anne Maria," Molly let out a sigh of relief. "Finally, someone who won't ride on me for my choices!"
Confessionals End
"You're right, Anne Maria," Dave sighed. "We shouldn't waste anymore time fighting."
As Dave bent down to pick up the key, however, a line of spider silk shot down from the treetops, wrapped around Molly, and pulled her up out of sight.
DJ regrouped with his team. "They said they saw something far away, so maybe-" he paused and looked behind his teammates. "Wait, where's Molly?"
The other four looked behind them and gasped. "Oh no, Molly's got taken by the spider!" Dave cried out.
"What do we do now?" Anne Maria griped.
Scarlett sighed. "Not to sound apathetic, but I think we're gonna have to continue on without her."
"Are you sure about that?" Katie questioned.
"I'm sure we can catch up to wherever she's being taken to," Scarlett waved off her concern.
"Well, I hope so," Katie said as she and the team exchanged nervous looks.
Confessional: Dave
"I don't see Molly in the best light right now, but that doesn't mean that I want her to be taken away," Dave began to shudder. "Especially by a spider."
Confessional Ends
"Why are we running so slow when we're in a challenge?" Geoff said as the scene moved back to him, Sierra, Scott, and Leshawna running through the forest. "We won't beat the other team at this rate."
"Relax, I know what I'm doing," Scott conversed with him.
Confessional: Scott
Scott was whittling another piece of wood with his shark tooth. "I'm heading us back into last place where we belong. Another elimination ceremony for the Rats and it's bye-bye Geoff! Or Sierra. I can't decide."
Confessional Ends
"C'mon, let's rock this! With years of exercise and partying, I've got energy to burn!" Geoff said, snatching the key from Leshawna and jogging ahead. The three followed him, but the camera kept its focus on Geoff as he passed a tree stump, then a rock; then stepped on a mysterious clump of dirt… which exploded and sent him flying.
Leshawna, Sierra, and Scott stopped immediately, the shot showing Sierra and Leshawna being shocked and Scott showing delight as Geoff got launched from one land mine to the next off-screen.
During this, however, a line of spider webbing was shot onto Sierra's leg. It quickly wrapped around it and tugged Sierra away from her team.
The camera finally cut back to Geoff, singed and groaning on the ground in an awkward but still holding the Rats' key. The Maggots approached him moments later. "Sorry that had to happen, doll!" Anne Maria comforted as she ran past Geoff.
Scott and Leshawna came to Geoff's need. "You gonna be alright?" Leshawna helped him up.
"I'll walk it off," Geoff tried to remain cool headed.
"Thanks, focus boy," Scott said.
"I don't want to strain my calves," Geoff added.
"We should leave in a few minutes just to make sure we catch up to the other team," Leshawna said. "Sierra just got captured, and I don't want us sticking around here."
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The scene cut to the lantern-lit cemetery. The camera panned left across its headstones and crosses, several of which were pet-themed, to the entrance as the five remaining Mutant Maggots arrived, huffing and puffing from their run.
"Welcome to the Wawanakwa Pet Cemetery!" Chris greeted them over the loudspeaker.
"We're first. Nice!" Dave said.
"What's the clue?" Anne Maria asked Scarlett.
The camera cut in close as she opened the lid to a small coffin in an open grave, revealing a ragged piece of paper within bearing a list of numbers: 5 in the first row; 5 in the second; 5 in the third. Notably, while most of the numbers were plain black there were three 6s and the 18 were all an eye-catching red. "Three 6's is normally not a good indication of luck," Scarlett said with a nervous look.
"Let's fan out and look for numbers!" DJ said as the perspective cut back to its usual sideview.
"By ourselves?" Anne Maria asked.
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"I'm in a creepy cemetery in the middle of the woods looking for three 6s. It's no big deal," Anne Maria said warily as she backed through the graveyard. "Good news is, there aren't any owls hooting around. I think I'm safe," she told herself, pausing to smile. "Now, let's see if I can find any numbers..."
She turned around and started examining the nearest headstone, and the shot cut to a view from afar, the footage switching back to infrared. The monster serving as the camera's viewpoint blinked, and when it opened its eyes it had gotten much closer to the jersey girl, and had extended four sharp limbs with tiny claws on the end towards her...
Anne Maria's scream echoed through the cemetery, quickly catching the attention of Katie, DJ, Scarlett, and Dave as they looked up in shock. "Anne Maria?" Dave asked out in concern, the footage quickly skipping ahead to show all four arriving at the location the tanned young lady had been snatched from.
"I could've sworn she was just here," Dave said in confusion.
They all gasped. "Where'd she go?" Katie asked in mild terror.
"I'm just as concerned as you all are," Scarlett started, "but like what happened with Molly, we should move along and hope to catch up with them."
"I know you're trying to be reasonable," DJ said, "but you're rubbing me off the wrong way."
"Yeah, it's like you don't care about what could happen to our teammates," Dave told her.
"I'm just used to not expressing my emotions on occasion," Scarlett told her team members. "Thank you very much."
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The scene flashed to the Rats, where Scott and Leshawna were next to grimy coffins propped upright against a couple statues.
"Find the souvenir, hide the souvenir, lose the game…" Scott went in to unlock the coffin, but was interrupted by Fang bursting out of the coffin with a menacing grin.
"AAAAHHHHH!" The devious ran away screaming when Fang moved to chase after him.
Geoff was looking at a grave that was open. "This grave smells like french fries. Weird, but I'm not complaining." He got shoved in thanks to Scott running away from Fang.
The camera followed Scott as he ran past two open graves, one of which with a mound of dirt in front of it.
The mutant shark followed his quarry, but when Scott leapt over the mound of dirt, Fang tripped over it. The shark fell into the open grave and growled.
"Why does this graveyard smell like fries?" Katie wondered aloud, following a scent as she walked through the cemetery. She soon came to the pit Geoff was in. "Maybe it's coming from there."
"Hello? Anybody? I need someone to help me down here!" Geoff called out.
Katie backed away a bit. "Did that hole just talk?"
"It's me. Geoff!" Geoff tried to denounce her belief.
"Oh right," Katie sighed in relief. "You're the guy with the cowboy hat."
"That's right," Geoff confirmed her statement. "I fell down this hole, and I'm covered in grease right now."
"So that explains the smell," Katie realized.
"Can you get me out of here?" Geoff begged her. "Grease doesn't mesh well with my shirt."
"I would, but I have to help my team right now," Katie declined. "One of your teammates could get you out. Bye," she left the scene.
"This sucks," Geoff whined, unaware of four maggots coming by the grave. As soon as they saw the grease and Geoff, they jumped in and attacked him, making him howl in agony.
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The scene cut to Chris, who was watching feeds of both teams on a trio of monitors and laughing hysterically. "Will anyone make it to the spooky cave?" he turned and asked the camera, holding a covered cup with a straw in it. "And if so, how can they possibly make it all the way to the finish line? Less brain, more pain, when we return!" he said, finishing with a sip of his drink.
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(Commercial Break)
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Is a Bounced mix in Logic Pro inferior to playing the song in realtime?This is a very controversial question to ask, because everybody always says “No!” (including excellent ears like yourselves). But there’s always a few troublemakers who claim they can hear a difference in their Bounced mix compared to playing their session in realtime. I believe that I do hear a difference sometimes, but I assume it’s a psychoacoustic effect caused by my knowing it’s a Bounce and therefor “it must be degraded” (a bias from the analog days). Degraded how? Less clarity and sparkle, narrower spatial image, the snare doesn’t sound as crisp, I can’t hear the skin on the kick drum as well… Maybe it depends on which I listen to first (playing live or the Bounce). Importing the Bounce back into Logic Pro, flipping phase and playing along with the mix give "silence" (actually, I hear a residual sound for a couple seconds, then it goes silent [no matter where I place the playhead], but that's probably nothing to worry about). Since it "passed the zero sum test", the Bounce must be identical and is not degraded. Case closed? Another factor is how is the listener playing back the Bounce? It does seem to sound better when imported and played in LUNA than it does in Quicktime. To make sure loudness wasn’t a factor, I lowered the output level of LUNA by 2dB. It sounds like a quieter but higher quality mix than when played in Quicktime. So perhaps this complaint is due to the quality of the playback app.Have any of you encountered this issue or have any solutions?

Hey all - working on a short and doing the sound editing/design. At various times throughout the shoot, we increased and decrease gain to compensate for certain sounds - whether quiet or loud. Im trying to figure out the best way to go about editing this together so I can balance noises that were recorded on set, sound effects added in in post (footsteps, doors, etc), and general room note for the sake of the genre/style.
This is a horrothriller short so ambience/presence is super key here - I don't want to cut all the room tome. I was curious if someone could give me some advice on how to edit. Do I...

• Try and remove all room tone/ambience from recordings and add it back in underneath actor's noises (gasps, breathes, screams, etc)?
• Or, try and match the level of room tone on all recordings?

How would I go about matching the noise floor or lowest level of audio in my recordings in Resolve? Is this something I just have to do by hand/ear by listening and leveling out individual audio files cut to cut?
Thanks!

Notes: We are both 16
I know the title sounds bad, I completely get it. You would never want to call someone overly dramatic when they experience emotions. This is just tiring, she is constantly arguing with me over trivial things (I constantly agree of if you feel something thats enough to make it real). She got mad at me for asking her “are you gonna watch the Spiderman movie with julie (fake name). Her response was “Im hanging up” proceeds to go on a rant about how she hates being correlated with her friends and how she feels like im always relating them to her and I did ask her before but she has done things like go with her friends before when I’ve asked first. After that I sit there and validate every single feeling and its like 11:30 at night and i got home at 10 ish and argued at 10:20 I came home from a 9 hour shift as well so i was tired. After all of that me sitting there and just telling her she is right and i was being stupid she calls me and i tell her im sleepy and im gonna sleep so she hangs up on me very petty and i call her back and i just like in a really stern and aggressive voice i told her like “Why did you hang up? I always sit there and validate how you feel and you get upset that im tired after working all day?” She stayed quiet the whole time, I even like said hello and she just stayed quiet so I hang up. After i text her like why do you just stay quiet after all of that and she just says “im sorry” like 8 times and she spams calls me but at this point I just want to sleep. I answer her call, i ask her like why did she not respond and she says “i couldnt move, i just couldnt say anything to you, i was scared” I respond with “are you okay? like do you feel like i abuse you i feel as someone would only have this reaction if they were being abused” (In my head i literally am like what the hell I dont even yell at this girl let alone even touch her) she says “you were just being so mean and aggressive, so i just was so scared” what i do after that is talk to her in a more callming voice and im like “I dont yell at you yet its almost like you attribute me to being abusive, i dont call you names and i sit here all the time and listen to your feelings and just validate them” she just stays quiet and like she just starts bawling and crying a lot and i just im just lost at this point like its gotten nowhere and its already like 1 in the morning at this point and after she just like im sorry and im tired and like i love you goodnight i get pissed after this like said a petty comment and i shouldnt have said it but i said “all i wanted was to talk to you and look where we are” and she like starts bawling again and im just like im sorry and we go to sleep fast forward to like right now she is still upset we havent talk all morning and she is just like “im tired, my heart hurts, being in a call with you hurts me more” I ask is it about yesterday and she says yes and i go and say “ Oh if you would like to be alone i understand , you dont have to be in the call, im sorry if im bothering you at all” she says after this “idk what to do anymore, it hurts sm, like why can you love me but make me feel so horrible” I said “Im sorry i make you feel that way, i dont intend to make you feel that way at all, its okay to still be bothered by yesterday, there isn’t much to do, we talked about it and came up with the solution and talked about what we could do better, its just a matter of us moving on from the situation.” She just says after that “yea, do you want to watch a show” Like im just so confused like im horrible a person one second and she just wants to watch a show with me now?? please i need advice i really love this girl.
Edit She just sent me this “i just cant. i cant be with your presence and trying to be okay when im not okay at all. i cant ignore how i feel when im with you and its unfair to you so its better if im just alone. we didnt come up with solutions you did. what solutions. you are right half my problems are not real and last night was dumb, i just needed to be alone. i regret talking about how i feel with you and feeling that way cuz you just get annoyed. Like i dont feel safe when you get aggravated that way like i already been telling you how i feel that way and my anxiety. like i just want to be heared and i dont expect you to do that because you are human and have your own thoughts. i dont even feel human around you because it feel like your so mean to me. but it doesnt even matter. And i did acknowledge you trying. I dont know what to do i feel like shit rn like i wanted to die last night. snd we wake up feeling worse. like i understand how you got annoyed when i didnt reply to you when u called out my name like what else can i say i was hurt i couldnt talk like you dont understand how it felt. i was so helpless and scared. like why do you say you love me but your so mean and dont treat me oike a princess. i’m not even mad i just remember how i felt and it hurt so much. like this is all i have to say and i dont want you to reply like sorry if this is repetitive and makes no sense i’m just promising to protect myself and not cause myself to feel this way ever again” I dont understand this at all., she is saying all these things and i just dont know what to do like i want to hear her out but like i mjsut like i dotn know what to do “hopeless and scared” like idk thats just so foreign to me, i grew up in a really physical household and this to me is somethign i think only people with domestic violence..i dont even yell at her i just want to get better for her and me i just dont know where to draw the line i havent replied to her but she also said this
“my heart just feels broken and this may be over exaggerating thats just how i feel i think its cuz i put every ounce of trust with you and thats so unfair, and i apologize for everythjng”

Last session was essentially tainted by a player who basically is no longer welcome at the table. I'll go into greater detail about it if requested, but essentially, he robbed the party of experiencing the March of the Dead by keeping it to himself.
The morning after, the party buried Kolyan, and Rahadin made an appearance to deliver condolences on behalf of Strahd. The effect of the mental screams had a great impact on one of my players in particular, but my paladin has been itching for a worthy challenge.
I mentioned in a previous post that I intended to have Rahadin show up at the Tser Pool encampment to usher the party into a pseudo-reading by Madam Eva with the intent of discerning whether or not one of them might be Tatyana's reincarnation. For context, in my setting, this is the driving force behind Strahd reaching out to adventurers beyond the realm of Barovia - he has spent centuries searching for Tatyana within Barovia to no avail and has opted to lure outsiders in, and the many adventurers he's lured in previously have all been "hazed" through Madam Eva for the same reason. When Strahd learns she is not among them, he decides to "play" with them.
So, back to Rahadin. I plan to have him waiting in Madam Eva's tent and usher them in. Madam Eva will, as usual, ask him to step outside while she reads them, and she will discover that one of my players is in fact Tatyana's reincarnation. However, she will lie to Rahadin and beg him to take the matter outside of the encampment where I plan to have Rahadin give them a sound thrashing and perhaps even kill one of them (if they have bad luck with death saves). After the bloodbath, he will leave, and Madam Eva will come to their aid and perform necessary clerical duties to restore them to health before warning them to lay low until they have what they need to take on Strahd and his forces.
Of course, there are other events within the encampment such as the actual card reading and the general joviality of the night (which I think would make a lovely stark contrast in tone leading up to the ass-whooping), but I intend to give the party a homebrewed trinket that just gives them extra "protection" in the overworld, so they're not rolling for encounters every five steps (hyperbole for those of you who want to call me out on this).
So, in terms of advice, is there anything you would consider adding to this to hype up the tension? How would your players respond to something like this happening?

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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So my husband and I are communicating quite a lot and trying to work through things, but needing a little help. We are up to once a week frequency, which I'm grateful for, but for me there just seems to be something missing. He has stopped watching porn and his libido jumped up for a short bit but is kind of closer to normal now. I think that my slightly obsessive desire for sex is kind of a side effect of anxious attachment, and then he feels like I just want him for sex 😔 (I don't).
But..further complicating things, we've recently been trying to work on me getting pleasure, because, while I think he wants me to enjoy it as much as he does, through porn or whatever kind of women he was with before, he has not understood and has been frustrated by the fact I simply need more time/ foreplay for my body to warm up and that, at least for now, I don't really feel physical pleasure during piv. And without enough foreplay, piv is a little painful tbh. He has said things like it's not fun or it just takes so long, which sounds bad, but I think he's mostly just very badly misinformed. Then when we do try more, I get anxious that he's frustrated, which makes it hard to relax...
So, are there any books, or just multiple books anyone has read that help address how we're wired, desire/arousal/response, whatever, and also tips/techniques & an understanding of how women are physically aroused and pleasured? I think it would be helpful for us both, I am not super sexually experienced (none before him) so it's hard for me to just know what exactly I want or need. And sometimes (or often?) it's like I want sex because I want him to want sex, then my mind and especially my body just aren't really aroused and it ends up being painful.
Sorry this was really long and all over the place, any recommendations are greatly appreciated. I am actually thinking of getting Come as you are because I suspect there may be some helpful info for us both, but am hoping for some other solid recs. Thanks!

So I've never, ever had a nightmare caused by a movie, show or video game but I think it finally happened last night.
It started with me having trouble sleeping and wandering around the house in the middle of the night. Now that I think about it, I might have dreamed the wandering as well as I do that sometimes. Next thing I know I'm waking up on the ground at night, outside on my back patio. I don't drink or anything like that so this is not a situation I've ever been in and so I immediately feel a sense of dread and paranoia and at no point will I realize I'm dreaming. I stand up but but I'm confused and barely have control over my own body, as is often the case in dreams... then I hear it.
Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap.
It was unmistakably the sound of a demon from Metro flying around above me. It was dark and there is a roof over my patio so I could not see the sky above me... and I didn't want to. I was now in complete terror and made my way towards my back door, slamming it shut behind me once I was inside. It was just in time, as the screen-door proceeded to blow off it's hinges and now there was a strange blue glow shining from out of view to the left of the windowed door. I think it was sparking (an anomaly?) but it actually looked more like blue flames defying physics coming from the side. Terror growing I fled upstairs to my kitchen as it has a view of what might be happening in my back yard. It was very dark but the whole property was bathed in a sickly blue light that would change back and forth to an orange light, the effect was very creepy and I think I wrote it off in my head as clouds moving past a full moon or something, but really it was nothing that could have been created by nature. There were also the sounds of creatures in the darkness and the trees and bushes were rustling as if something was moving behind them.
After a few minutes of staring at this bizarre scene, frozen in complete terror, I woke up.
Thanks Metro.

I'm from a conservative Christian family, and recently I've been posting atheist memes on Facebook, even though my atheist husband and mom warned me not to. Like the most recent meme was "Why is God fine with destroying the earth with a flood but doesn't feed everyone on earth?" Then last weekend we had a family reunion that included distant family members, and I'd say hi to them, but there were about 10 people who would pretend like I don't exist and wouldn't look at me or say hi back, while others would return my hello with a scoffing sound or a silent angry expression. They're the same people who said they'd disown me if I were a lesbian (even though I'm not actually). Now they can disown me for being a blasphemer and show the "true love of god" to everyone who witnesses their treatment of me. It was pretty obvious because I'd say goodbye to them in a large group setting, and the fundamentalists would refuse to look at me or say goodbye back, sometimes putting their hand up to block their view of me. Anyway I know I made a mistake but wanted to get this off my chest because it was still pretty traumatic. And now my mom is somewhat pissed too because she thinks the family was also ostracizing her, even though she still pretends to be Christian, but now they associate her with me. I started posting the memes because I have a lot of old religious trauma, and I can't stand these beliefs being forced on others, including now the younger generations and our country as a whole. Religion just poisons everything.

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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!)]

Hi all. My name is Will and I am the moderator on this page. My username is A-Pierced-Cock. I'm 69 years old, heavily Tatted and pierced. This is a place where we can discuss our Tatts, piercings and what effect they have on us in a nudists environment/life style. I know that several times, I have been approached by members at different resorts and told that my Tatts and piercings are offensive and was told (by a couple of members) to leave. If you have had similar experiences, this is your place to sound off about it.
Ok. You have the idea of what this page is about.
There will be no talk about politics. Don't make me ban you for political talk. Try to be polite and courteous at all times. Pix are allowed of you in the life style, of your Tatts and Piercings. I will not tolerate sexually explicit material, you will be banned for that.
Try to keep the swearing off this page. You don't need it to explain your situation.
That's about it. Let's have some good conversation, a Lotta fun and a good time.
Thanks,
W.

Note: This is the same AU where there is no Hyde and the events of season 1 never happened and Wednesday is simply writing her own novel on it.
Wednesday: “Mother. What type of poison could cause one to feel hot and cold at the same time?"
Her mother pursed her lips at the question, thinking.
Morticia: “What do you mean?"
Wednesday: “When you shiver and your palms sweat, in reaction to- to certain visuals, or sounds. What chemical could achieve this?"
Morticia: “I don't think I've ever heard of such a specific toxin, have you been exposed to something?"
Wednesday: “That is what I am trying to determine, mother. I know of no one else more experienced in this field."
Her mother muttered about various plants, listing symptoms out loud. Occasionally she would ask Wednesday if she had experienced this type of symptom, if she had eaten that type of fruit.
And then, her mother smiled.
Morticia: “Oh, my cruel and unusual child of woe, your symptoms- it means someone has touched your black heart." Tears sprung in her mother's eyes.
Wednesday: “Mother, do not speak in riddles."
Morticia: “Apologies, I get carried away when it comes to these things. Who is it that is making you feel this way?"
Wednesday: “I never said it was a person."
Morticia arched an eyebrow.
Wednesday: “A barista." Wednesday muttered.
Morticia: “A barista?"
Wednesday: “It's the word for someone who works in a coffee shop."
Morticia: “Yes, I am aware. Would you like to tell me more about this barista?"
Wednesday: “…No."
Morticia: “Very well, little devil. The poison in your veins, the venom that this barista has introduced to your bloodstream is the most all-consuming, deadly substance humanity has ever known. I couldn't be happier for you, Wednesday. I hope we get to meet your barista soon."
Oh no, Wednesday thought as she watched her mother leave the room.

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    In the past there were many Walled Cities, more than the six we have today. The first to be built is much contested, and any [Scholar] who gives a definitive answer is assuredly lying, but it is well-known that Salazsar is the youngest, starting out as a mining town so-to-speak. Sadly, several of the original Walled Cities have fallen, the causes of which are also much debated, but from those that fell was a Walled City that stood out from the rest, so great it was that all traces were wiped from history, until I happened to uncover them. A Walled City to rise above all other Walled Cities, more impervious than Manus, more magical than Fissival, a lust for gold to rival Salazsar, growth to match Oteslia, fantastical inventions that rival Pallass, and trade-routes greater than Zeres. Let me tell you a story about the fabled Walled City of Walls.
    Originally the Walled City of Walls was a small fort, constructed in the middle of a grassy plain, where a small garrison of [Soldiers] lived. They defended their fort and nearby town with pride, but as they had such a large area to defend, they struggled to stop invaders from going around their fort and attacking the nearby settlement. In those days we did not yet build walls around our cities, and people were constantly threatened from [Bandits] and [Raiders] who sought to pillage and steal! The valiant [Soldiers] did their best to repel the attacks, and defend the plains, but there were just too many [Bandits] and other ne'er-do-wells!
    Then one day a [Mason] stopped outside the fort, and yelled up at the [Soldiers] manning the battlements. He said, "My name is Zezzyzil Wallbuilder! You [Soldiers] have been fighting so hard to protect these lands, I want to help you by building a wall so high that not even dragons can fly over it!"
    His words were ridiculous, but resonated with the tired [Soldiers], who would do anything to stop the invaders, and the [Captain] agreed to let him enter and use spare materials to improve the fort.
    Zezzyzil got to work, and by dawn of the next day, the walls of the fort had grown by five feet. The [Soldiers] were astounded, and they thanked Zezzyzil for his work, but instead of leaving he spoke again, "I have done all I can with the materials you have here, but if you can gather more stone I can expand the walls further!"
    They had seen proof of his Skills, and decided to send a few men to the nearby village to gather more materials.
    The townsfolk trusted the [Soldiers] who had protected them time and time again, and rushed to gather whatever they could for the project. Stone was taken from abandoned houses and carted over to the fort, where soon a large pile sat in the courtyard. The top of the pile was as tall as the fort's walls, and was everything the villagers could spare. Once again Zezzyzil got to work, and by dawn of the next day a wall ran through the plains, dividing it in half.
    The villagers went to see the result of Zezzyzil's hard work, and were amazed with what he had accomplished, but before they could cheer, the [Mayor] of the town approached Zezzyzil and begged, "Oh great Zezzyzil, you are clearly of a high Level, and have done so much for all of us! I will pay you what little gold I have, and I feel ashamed to ask, but if I give you all the stone from my house, will you expand the walls further?"
    His offer shocked the [Soldiers] and the townsfolk. Zezzyzil thought for a moment, rubbing a claw against his chin, and then replied, "You are willing to sacrifice your own home for the good of your people, I admire your noble spirit, and so I agree and will take the stone to expand the wall."
    The [Mayor] laughed with delight, handing a bag of gold to Zezzyzil, and returned to the town to tear down his house and cart the stone over. However, word spread of his deed, and by the time he returned there was a pile larger than the one before, sitting outside of the fort, behind the new wall. All of the villagers had taken the stone from their homes and brought it there, for Zezzyzil to use, for being safe from [Bandits] was better than comfort.
    As before, night passed, and by dawn an even larger wall had been built, surrounding what used to be the village. The townsfolk no longer had homes, and had all crowded into the small fort, which was now safe from [Bandits]. Zezzyzil did not leave, as they thought he would, and instead chose to stay with the [Soldiers] and [Villagers] and help them maintain the walls and further expand them.
    Time passed, and gradually more Drakes moved into the fort, seeking shelter and safety behind the large walls. Eventually, the fort turned into a small city, and one day Zezzyzil left when it was clear the citizens could continue maintaining the walls without him. The citizens threw him a parade and lavished him with gifts, and then Zezzyzil was gone, followed by a stream of flower petals and coin.
    The town had not had an attack in years, but still kept expanding the walls, using knowledge that Zezzyzil had given them. By now the walls surrounded the entire plain, constantly being built taller and taller, thicker and thicker. Quarries were dug where more stone could be excavated, and expeditions were sent to a nearby mountain to get more material for the construction.
    As the town was safe and growing, [Merchants] started to pass by, bringing with them goods from faraway lands, bringing the city great fortune, turning it into a local hub for trade. A few clever [Merchants] took note of the citizens peculiar tradition, and started to sell the city more stone and wood for their work.
    The walls by now were almost one hundred feet tall, and the city grew more prosperous the taller they became. It became common for ordinary buildings to look fortified, with ramparts, crenels, and merlons on even homes of the poor, stylized after the walls that protected them. But the good times were not to last, and a group of [Bandits] had heard of the city, and worked in secret to undermine its defenses.
    The [Bandits] knew that even though the walls looked imposing, they had no enchantments to strengthen them, and so they observed from afar until at last they discovered a weakness in a section of the walls. Like lightning they rushed towards the city, but no alarms sounded, and no [Watchmen] yelled out. They had gotten too comfortable, too used to their safety, and thought that it would just be another group of [Raiders] breaking themselves upon the walls.
    The damage to the city and its populace were horrible, and although the [Soldiers] and [Guards] managed to beat the [Bandits] back, they were shaken. The walls were not as safe as they had thought, and it was only a matter of time before a worse attack occurred.
    The highest Level townsfolk gathered, and pooled their resources together, just like how the original villagers did. Renowned [Enchanters] and [Architects] were hired to teach the townsfolk their ways, and more [Guards] and [Soldiers] were hired to man the walls and keep the city safe.
    By now the town's desire for safety was feverish, every alleyway was surrounded by walls, the streets were lined by walls, the [Guards] lived within the walls. The work of every citizen was related to building walls, expanding walls, and maintaining walls. A school was created to teach citizens how to enchant, so that never again would their walls be damaged.
    The city kept growing and expanding, and by now the walls were five hundred feet tall! People from afar started to call it the Walled City of Walls, and the citizens wore the name with pride, leaning further into their ideals. The first Wall Lords arose, promoted from the original fort garrison for their great work for the city. The mountain they had been mining for stone turned out to be rich with gemstones and other resources, and the Wall Lords used this money to keep expanding the walls and better equip the [Soldiers] and [Guardsmen]. Great gardens were built to feed the city, ensuring that they could live while cut off from the outside world. New construction methods were pioneered to aid with the building of the walls.
    But gradually the attitude of the city started to change. All of the original space within the walls had been used up, and there was nowhere left to build but out. A second wall was built, then a third, then a forth. Decades passed as the city crept past the plains into the forests, swallowing up other villages and towns. And then first war happened.
    The name of the town is unknown, but they were unhappy with the expansion of the Walled City of Walls. They marched their valiant army over, trying to stop the construction and expansion, but the Walled City retaliated with force, and crushed the small town, resettling the villagers and forcing them to join.
    The Walled City of Walls had never attacked anyone before, they had always been a defensive state, and were shocked with how easy it was to crush the small town. One of the Wall Lords proposed that they keep expanding as far as they could, not letting any force stop them. After all, the more the walls expanded, the safer the city was.
    Armies marched, destroying nearby villages and towns, clearing the way for [Masons] and [Geomancers] to come and create more walls. Hundreds of [Woodcutters] cleared forests, making it easier for the walls to be constructed. The city ever grew, and the original walls were now over a thousand feet tall, and still growing. Constant lines of materials were gathered, and any land that wasn't being lived on was mined and carved out. Any stone that wasn't useful for the walls was instead used for decoration and for the construction of smaller houses.
    But word spread of what the city was doing, and it reached Zezzyzil. By now he was an old Drake, over 150, still doing work as a [Mason], trying to help small towns and villages. When he learned what the city was doing he was furious, and returned as quickly as he could. He asked for audience with the Wall Lords, and to his shock, they refused.
    The current Wall Lords were descendants of the original [Soldiers], and none of them knew of Zezzyzil. Zezzyzil found that the city had forgotten him, and not a soul in the city remembered who he was or what he had done for them. He stopped to think, rubbing his claw against his chin, and then that night, he went to work.
    And by dawn of the next day, all of the walls were gone, and in their place stood the original small fort. Without their walls to protect them, many citizens chose to leave and head elsewhere, deciding it would be too much work to rebuild them, instead working to build small walls around other towns. The Wall Lords tried to hold onto what they could, but it was too late. They sat in the peaceful plains, staring at lines that marked where the walls used to be, and left. Thus was the fate of the Walled City of Walls.

F, 28
I thought i had figured out that i was asexual a year ago, but then i noticed a few things that didn't line up, so i felt like, "oh, im stealing an identity that doesn't belong to me. i should call myself straight."
but then, i wonder if maybe they do? i don't know. now and then, i'll get a puppylove crush on someone i just met, but it dies quickly. my coworker comes to mind. we've been working together for half a year now, and i like the idea of dating him, though i don't really experience high intensity attraction to him. he's very cute, but, i don't know, the feelings are so weak that i dont wanna act on them. same thing happened with a friendly cashier i had just met. i wasnt opposed to dating him, and i had that short period of "oh i'd like to be with him" that died as quickly as it had came.
is that how crushes usually work? does all of this sound more ace or allo?

For starters, it’s not even noon yet, and I feel like my brain is melting from what my mother is playing on her phone THAT I CAN HEAR FROM MY BEDROOM BECAUSE SHE FORGOT WHERE THE DAMN VOLUME BUTTON IS!!! So, to start, I want y’all to picture the most cringy meme soundbyte compilation that y’all have ever encountered on the inter webs. It’s got soldier boi, shrek, Mario theme song, everything…now imagine someone TASTEFULLY, because that’s the best word I can think of for it…stitched various parts of the speech trump gave where he said “…bing bing, bong…” (a classic line that I hope follows his orange skin until it turns to cheap leather).
My dearest mother listened to this perverted YouTube poop…for fifteen minutes…
She was listening to something that sounded like a podcast where the guy said something about a “…sorros run cabal with figure like Elon musk and Ron Desantis…”
Now she’s listening to another one with a spokesperson that sounds like a dollar store KGSR hype brat. Apparently there’s a “rap song” about trump that is topping music charts…as cringy as this sounds, I unfortunately believe it…because now my mom is listening to it…and it sounds like a QAnons hype song.
As a last little bow on this abomination of a present, she’s now giving one of our dogs occasional doses of Ivermectin…why? Because her niece, who is almost dead with lupis, recommended it…the same ailing member of my family who thinks she can “sense” 5G…I’m gonna go play some war Thunder, and cry a bit.
Happy Sunday everyone…hope y’all have a better day than I do…stupid f**king cult

Notes: We are both 16
I know the title sounds bad, I completely get it. You would never want to call someone overly dramatic when they experience emotions. This is just tiring, she is constantly arguing with me over trivial things (I constantly agree of if you feel something thats enough to make it real). She got mad at me for asking her “are you gonna watch the Spiderman movie with julie (fake name). Her response was “Im hanging up” proceeds to go on a rant about how she hates being correlated with her friends and how she feels like im always relating them to her and I did ask her before but she has done things like go with her friends before when I’ve asked first. After that I sit there and validate every single feeling and its like 11:30 at night and i got home at 10 ish and argued at 10:20 I came home from a 9 hour shift as well so i was tired. After all of that me sitting there and just telling her she is right and i was being stupid she calls me and i tell her im sleepy and im gonna sleep so she hangs up on me very petty and i call her back and i just like in a really stern and aggressive voice i told her like “Why did you hang up? I always sit there and validate how you feel and you get upset that im tired after working all day?” She stayed quiet the whole time, I even like said hello and she just stayed quiet so I hang up. After i text her like why do you just stay quiet after all of that and she just says “im sorry” like 8 times and she spams calls me but at this point I just want to sleep. I answer her call, i ask her like why did she not respond and she says “i couldnt move, i just couldnt say anything to you, i was scared” I respond with “are you okay? like do you feel like i abuse you i feel as someone would only have this reaction if they were being abused” (In my head i literally am like what the hell I dont even yell at this girl let alone even touch her) she says “you were just being so mean and aggressive, so i just was so scared” what i do after that is talk to her in a more callming voice and im like “I dont yell at you yet its almost like you attribute me to being abusive, i dont call you names and i sit here all the time and listen to your feelings and just validate them” she just stays quiet and like she just starts bawling and crying a lot and i just im just lost at this point like its gotten nowhere and its already like 1 in the morning at this point and after she just like im sorry and im tired and like i love you goodnight i get pissed after this like said a petty comment and i shouldnt have said it but i said “all i wanted was to talk to you and look where we are” and she like starts bawling again and im just like im sorry and we go to sleep fast forward to like right now she is still upset we havent talk all morning and she is just like “im tired, my heart hurts, being in a call with you hurts me more” I ask is it about yesterday and she says yes and i go and say “ Oh if you would like to be alone i understand , you dont have to be in the call, im sorry if im bothering you at all” she says after this “idk what to do anymore, it hurts sm, like why can you love me but make me feel so horrible” I said “Im sorry i make you feel that way, i dont intend to make you feel that way at all, its okay to still be bothered by yesterday, there isn’t much to do, we talked about it and came up with the solution and talked about what we could do better, its just a matter of us moving on from the situation.” She just says after that “yea, do you want to watch a show” Like im just so confused like im horrible a person one second and she just wants to watch a show with me now?? please i need advice i really love this girl.
Edit She just sent me this “i just cant. i cant be with your presence and trying to be okay when im not okay at all. i cant ignore how i feel when im with you and its unfair to you so its better if im just alone. we didnt come up with solutions you did. what solutions. you are right half my problems are not real and last night was dumb, i just needed to be alone. i regret talking about how i feel with you and feeling that way cuz you just get annoyed. Like i dont feel safe when you get aggravated that way like i already been telling you how i feel that way and my anxiety. like i just want to be heared and i dont expect you to do that because you are human and have your own thoughts. i dont even feel human around you because it feel like your so mean to me. but it doesnt even matter. And i did acknowledge you trying. I dont know what to do i feel like shit rn like i wanted to die last night. snd we wake up feeling worse. like i understand how you got annoyed when i didnt reply to you when u called out my name like what else can i say i was hurt i couldnt talk like you dont understand how it felt. i was so helpless and scared. like why do you say you love me but your so mean and dont treat me oike a princess. i’m not even mad i just remember how i felt and it hurt so much. like this is all i have to say and i dont want you to reply like sorry if this is repetitive and makes no sense i’m just promising to protect myself and not cause myself to feel this way ever again” I dont understand this at all., she is saying all these things and i just dont know what to do like i want to hear her out but like i mjsut like i dotn know what to do “hopeless and scared” like idk thats just so foreign to me, i grew up in a really physical household and this to me is somethign i think only people with domestic violence..i dont even yell at her i just want to get better for her and me i just dont know where to draw the line i havent replied to her but she also said this
“my heart just feels broken and this may be over exaggerating thats just how i feel i think its cuz i put every ounce of trust with you and thats so unfair, and i apologize for everythjng”

Sincerely
Ba-doh, ba-doh, ba-doh, ba-doh-ba
Sincerely, oh yes, sincerely
'Cause I love you so dearly, please say you'll be mine
-The Moonglows
Part I - The End
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. If I keep saying it maybe it will be true.
But it was happening. Tough times. Humpty Dumpty times. Out of gas in the desert with no bars times.
And, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse than a Tijuana root canal; she walked in. Out of the sweltering Mexican heat, into the dim bar, she came; the only thing standing between me and the blinding light. I heard a couple of gunshots somewhere in the distance.
I still remember how the sun illuminated my 2pm rise and shine, shit-faced full of no caffeine afternoon after, hair of the dog; tequila shot and beer. Like I said, tough times on the Ponderosa, Hoss.
Every time I think of that moment, I stand transfixed in time. Unable to move, frozen in-place tighter than a suckered kid’s tongue to a Chicago lamppost in a February ice storm. Maggie had long ago won my heart’s devotion only to betray both me, and it, in ways still inconceivable to my sauce pan of a brain.
So, a couple of months ago, my life in post-apocalyptic ruin, I did what any red-blooded American would do; I flew across the border to CDMX to drown my sorrows in tequila and cheap living. And now, incomprehensibly, here she was; back, again like the September monsoon. Had the bitch air tagged me?
It seemed with Maggie my heart’s devotion was not enough. Everything she wanted and received soon became a dull knife; just ain’t cutting. Mags had to have it all, all the time. And I thought she had gotten all of me and more. Who’d think she’d want to pick at the carcass? But inexplicably, there she was like my constant migraine, the one that never really left the base of my skull.
Without a word Mags swooped in close like she missed me and now hadda kiss me.
Then, quicker than lightning showing off, she plunged her delicate-boned hand deep into my chest. She then removed it with even greater alacrity holding it high above her jet-black mane. She waved it for all the bar to see, my still beating corazón in it, color-coordinating against it’s will with her manicure, making what looked like vague Italian gestures.
Nobody in the bar paid us any mind.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but avert my horrified gaze into my now exposed chest cavity, only to witness darkness within darkness gazing back at me.
“Heyyyyyy,” a voiceless voice greeted and saluted.
I looked up at Maggie. She took the seat opposite mine. Then reaching over with her free hand commandeered my tequila and knocked it back quick. Her encore was to grab my beer and drain it with all the mud she could muster into my eye. Then, with a satisfied look she dropped the now emptied bottle on the wooden table hard enough to make a thud.
Maggie then met my stare. My cardia beating peripatetically in her freshly manicured right-hand she made an elaborate shrug, her face smug as a tyrant’s fart.
I remembered wondering what the fuck was keeping my cardio so vascular. It sure as fuck wasn’t clean living. Then, that voiceless voice had yet more to say.
“Now what, Spenser?” it asked.
Now, it was now my turn to shrug. Surprisingly, despite being a now certifiably heartless son of a bitch, I, too, had something to say. So, I said it.
“You’re fucking diabolical, Maggie.”
My words of judgment echoed clear, permeating deep into the abyss, then back again at Maggie. She caught my words easier than a kitten catches smiles. She just shrugged again. It was starting to get annoying.
“You ruined me,” I added just to be doing something.
The shrug undulated down from her tan and toned shoulder through her arm, finally coming to a full stop at her finger’s tips.
Waving my heart at me with more vague Italian gestures Mags asked, “How can you be so sure, Spenser?”
Part II – The Middle
Sincerely, oh you know how I love you
I'll do anything for you, please say you'll be mine
...
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. My new mantra wasn’t working.
Six months ago, I thought Maggie was the answer to my dreams.
Swooping down like an angel to shower me with attention and affection. Dinners with wine. Hot sex. More hot sex. No strings attached. Getting to know you pillow talk.
Now, there’s one thing I need to add. I met her through a dating app but as it turned out we both worked for the same nonprofit. We didn’t know each other as it’s a fairly big company but it turned out I supported the code for both her projects. This turned out to be one of many coincidences.
We both hated our jobs. We both liked writing short stories but never could sell a thing despite writing dozens and dozens. We both could dance salsa, on 1 and 2 and loved to hablar en español que no era muy guapo.
We both wanted to run away to Mexico city and live the Bohemian life.
Coincidences like we both grew up in NYC and had issues with our respective families of origin. And while she was Chinese-American and I was Russian-American both our fathers were born in the same year and were obsessed with Woody Allen. We both had much younger siblings we didn’t speak to.
Yeah, we had both grown up with weak fathers and selfish narcissistic mothers in common. And worser still, we had both experienced unstable living situations in high school. In my case, I was kicked out of the house for smoking weed.
In Maggie’s case, I never really was sure what went down but the best I could get out of her was at 13 she got pissed at her mom for cheating on her dad and left the house with nowhere to go. She ended up with family friends or relatives but the details were always murky and I was not the nosey type.
Her words to me were, “My mother’s emotional IQ is low. I raised myself.”
Impressively, she had made it through the Ivy League and seemed to be someone down to earth I could spend time with. But truth be told from the minute I saw her profile picture I was hotter than a Texas chili sprout for her.
It was some kind of primal attraction I thought I was long past entertaining. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t love. It was like the thought of coming home to a family I never knew I had or that even could exist.
This shit made old me feel like young me again. But, as oft is the case in life, there was a problem. I was old, broke and probably about to lose my job. I was in IT and I was having problems with my manager being a psychopath; for reals.
It wasn’t mere conjecture as he had a reputation of getting people fired, or worse, making their lives so miserable they would quit; even with no prospects. I had been the focus of his sabotaging efforts and it had been having a bad effect on my mental and physical well-being.
This had taken a turn for the worse and I was catching a lot of passive aggressive hostility on the project Maggie supported.
Anyway, she was the bright spot in my otherwise mostly solitary and emotionally bleak life. And she lived nearby. She had an ex and kids and shared custody but I never met them and she didn’t really talk much about it except to say once, “You should need a license to have kids.”
I never had quite known what to make of some of the things she said, but like I said, I was under her spell. And I liked it.
And the icing on top? I had a dominant kinky side and that was a fire Maggie poured gasoline on every chance she got. She was worse than an arsonist in Underoo Town.
One weird thing about Mags was her knitting habit. If we weren’t fucking or eating she was knitting. Even at restaurants and bars.
One day in November, with the sun golden in a sky so blue you thought you could touch it I asked, “What are you knitting?”
Maggie gave me a wry look. She got out of her chair and seemed to be examining my bald head which I had shaved just that morning.
“A hat,” she replied.
But as the holidays rolled around things started to change. One Sunday morning as we were having coffee Maggie looked around the crowded steamy café.
“Everybody’s hooking up for the holidays,” she remarked.
I didn’t really know what to do with that one so I let it be.
But as the days went on there was a change in the weather. Fewer texts. Less sex. Maggie going out of town to some vague destination. Sending me sexy pictures of herself in Santa outfits after I caught the flu during Christmas.
A few days after Christmas I got a text late one night.
“Is it okay if I come by?”
“Very okay,” was my reply.
Maggie showed up with chocolate, red wine and the hat she had been knitting. Orange Afghani wool softer than a golden retriever’s fur. She put the hat on my head and then removed all my clothes.
“Let’s celebrate Christmas, Spenser.”
And, we did.
When we were done and lying head-to-head, I said, “I love my hat.”
Maggie said, “I made it especially for you. No matter what, don’t lose it.”
It was another one of those weird Maggie things she said, like, “I used to shoplift,” and shit like that.
I nodded.
“Promise me you’ll hold on to your hat, Spenser.”
“I promise.”
Maggie observed my face, then nodded as if confirming something to herself.
“Okay.”
Then we did that thing again.
That was the pinnacle. Things quickly went downhill for no reason I could discern. Texts unanswered and when answered; kind of abrupt-like. Being unavailable. Stuff with her kids. Time away in Connecticut for some vague reason. After that I began feeling like the weakest card in a gambler’s hand.
But Maggie kept shoe horning me in at odd times, giving me just enough crumbs to keep me on the hook. And as we rode the roller coaster down everything always seemed to center around alcohol. And sex. More and more debauched sex. Finally, by New Year’s Eve things were getting straight-up weird no chaser.
“You know that thing we talked about?”
By her tone I knew what she meant. I nodded cautiously.
“You want to try it?”
Maggie dropped a smile on me that would have had the serpent in the garden applying for unemployment.
“Yes,” she said.
So, we did.
I thought I had been imagining things. I thought we were back at the pinnacle. I could feel the love drug course through my veins. Things couldn’t be better. Or, so I thought.
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
The Following Monday
The next Monday I was called into what turned out to be the most fucking bizarre moment of my fifty-eight years on this planet; and I’ve had some bizarre fucking moments growing up in south Brooklyn in the 1970’s; believe you me.
The company’s CIO, compliance officer, head of legal, head of HR and my evil manager, Conte Rugen were all in attendance, cameras ROLLING.
It appears I was being dismissed after 8 years loyal service for sexual assault, extortion, harassment, hate speech, insults to farm animals and every fucking other offense against God and man one could commit in these holiest of holy United States of America.
And just who had I… who had I.. victimized? Who had I preyed upon? Harassed? Gone full nutso on?
Maggie.
They had the goods. Recordings. Video. Ropes. Whips. Chains. Bad Spanglish. Maggie screaming, “No, papi! No!!!!”
I believe I was, what is known in legal parlance as, summarily fucked.
Nobody wanted to hear my side. How things were taken out of context. Things we had mutually consented to out of exciting and bonding trust and exploration.
“Did I have consent agreement?” I parroted back in shock to the head of legal.
“Did you get one when you fucked your mother in the ass before she shat you out?” I added just to keep my mouth from puking.
I was in bombshell shock. Maggie was my angel. Our situationship was supposed to be fucking healing from our abused childhoods and here I am now some kind of Tarantinoesque, Mr. Fucking Rapist? And my fucking manager once bragging about throwing a cat out a window when he was a juvenile delinquent?!?
There would be charges pressed. I would need an attorney. I might be arrested.
And it all happened faster than you can say, “Blue Monday, How I hate Blue Monday”.
And then Maggie sued the company. Take no fucking prisoners, Maggie. Disco-fucking-inferno burn that mother down we don’t need no water let the motherfucker burn Maggie. I wondered if her ex had been left on food stamps after the divorce.
A few months and my life savings and retirement account after that the criminal case got pleaded down to misdemeanor assault and I was able to arbitrate with my employer and Maggie’s lawyer leaving me with some clothes, my passport and precisely enough plastic to fly into the sweltering Mexican heat. So, fly into it I did.
Part III – The Beginning
Sincerely, oh you know how I love you
I'll do anything for you, please say you'll be mine
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
She doesn't want me
But I'll never never never never let her go
...
“I wish you’d stop waving that thing at me,” I said gesturing at my heart with my chin.
“You’re still upset,” Maggie said. It wasn’t a question.
“You fucking abused me. You fucking eviscerated me. Yeah, you could say I’m a little perturbed.”
“But you’re still wearing the hat,” she said smiling.
“It’s a bad ass hat,” I said. It was after all. Why cut off your nose to spite your face?
“I put a lot of time and thought into it,” she said. My heart continued to beat in her hand.
...
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
She doesn't want me
But I'll never never never never let her go
...
“Look,” she said waving my heart at me.
“I really wish you wouldn’t wave that around like that.”
The voice in the abyss in my chest spoke. It said, “Wait for it.”
Maggie said, “Spenser, you poor fucking sap. You hate your fucking job. You try to do the right fucking thing and speak up and you get kicked around like a dog. You try to love hard and you get beat up and left in an alley. You try to write books and start businesses and you end up bankrupt or dead.
And now look at you! You don’t have a care in the fucking world. You don’t have a shitty job. You are in beautiful Mexico City with the girl of your dreams. You say your heart was hardened? Well, I say it feels pretty fucking soft and sweet to me. Like the hat I knitted you. With the pom pom. And you know what?”
“What?” I heard myself murmur?
The abyss in my chest said, “Yeah, what?”
“Well, one the fucking pom pom has a beacon so I knew where you were the whole fucking time you sap. So I can tell you this true. And I will. So here I am in fucking Mexico sweating my tits off. And I am telling you this," she said nodding at my cardio, "is a very good heart. And I am putting it back where it belongs.
There is nothing wrong with it and now nobody can hurt it again. And if you want to write a book now you have something, and someone,” she added with a wry smile, “to write about.”
Then lightning quick Maggie put it back in my chest and removing her hand made a quick flourish gesturing for the waitress.
“Botella de tequila, por favor!”
I looked down at my chest. Everything seemed to be the way it had been before she ripped out my heart. Only different.
I was about to speak. Maggie raised a hand.
The waitress appeared like a wraith and put down a bottle of Don Julio and two fresh shot glasses and two cold ones.
Maggie poured two shots and pushed one at me with the hand that had been holding my cardio captive. She then fished around in her pocket and found her phone.
“What the fuck, right," that's what your thinking, Spenser. Yeah, what the fuck is right. Look at this baby boy,” she said and then pushed her phone next to the shot glass.
I was looking at what appeared to be a bank balance that appeared ready, willing and able to face fuck an extraordinarily tall giraffe. I felt the migraine disappear like a bad dream.
Maggie gave me a wry smile.
She pushed the shot glass closer to me and picked hers up. I felt my elbow bending. It felt okay.
She tilted her shot at me and said, "Here's looking at you, kid," and took the shot. I drank mine.
We put our glasses down.
“You can negotiate anything," she said, then added, "sincerely.”
And then, then she kissed me.
Oh say you'll be mine
Oo-eee, oo-eee-oo, ooi-ooi-ooo
Sincerely

Hi all! I wanted to take a moment to thank this sub for essential info about reconstituting peptides. Back in December I started using powdered Tirz, and noticed that the effects and my weight loss had slowed significantly since then. I thought maybe I had received a less effective batch or maybe the vials were underdosed, or that maybe I had just reached the end of the peptide’s effect for me.
Then I ran into this video in a discussion in this sub demonstrating how to reconstitute peptides. https://youtu.be/iNnzIueOt_g
I immediately noted how not gentle I had been in reconstituting my Tirz. I followed the video’s method the next time I took my dose.
And oh my goodness….I had been taking 15mg, but I guess with my method I must have been rendering the Tirz not as effective, because this last dose kicked like a horse. I was sick for a day, and have had zero appetite for now 6 days. I eat two bites and lose interest. It reminds me of when I very first started taking GLP1 only a little more intense. My theory is that I’ve been taking a much smaller dose because I’ve been damaging my peptides, and then this last time I was much more careful and basically walloped myself with a fuller strength dose.
So yeah, I think the method matters. Holy moly!

And who knows how many reviewers are paid.
And yes I get that, you’re having fun, you feel like you belong as thousand others are playing “your game”. Basic psychology of dopamine release in your brain, clouding vision.
—————
Campaign done, first few dungeons done, Tree of Whispers, Helltides.
My personal conclusion is a maximum of 6/10, if not 5/10.
Pluses: - Graphics of course, atmo - Sound, voice output
That's where you actually stop again unfortunately, Blizzard hasn't invented anything innovative here, the shell is shiny and pretty , but inside you find again the repeating back quality blizzard has brought up through the last years.
negatives: - MMO aspect? Almost pointless whether I see another player or not, no global chat.

• Spot white empty landscapes when you want to go from point a to point b
  
• Bosses, in principle, all the same, nobrain fights, Space Dodge here, Attack Attack, Dodge, run in circles
  
• No build variety, you start with a skill at level 5 and will continue to use it at level 60 if switched at all
  
• itemization same snot as with D3, +2 here, +1 str there, whether the items have stats or not is completely irrelevant , in the end you just look for the right aspects/leg effects and that's it unfortunately
  
• Feeling of progression, I feel as strong at level 60 as I did at level 20. No power spikes, no aha moment
  
• every build stackels vulnerability + main stat + critical hit + luck, always! no matter what class, you want more dmg? These are your stats. Grim Dawn, PoE, even Torch Light or Titan Quest change your skills over the course of the game, more projectile speed, more projectiles, other effects, cast on crit, cast on cast, cast on hit, look different graphics , etc. Depending on the class, you can use the same skills in other games, but they then have completely different effects. Paragon Board is also nothing more than Paragons in d3. You're just looking to get more of the same(major stat, crit, etc.)
  
• Side quests are your standard MMO food, run there, collect 5 of this, bring back.
  
• Endgame Loop is virtually without diversity, whether I grind Dungeons, Helltides, Tree of Whispers, the basic problem with the "hollow" basic concept of the game remains
  

If you don't necessarily need to jump on the bandwagon, or absolutely have to have the latest game or just "be part of the d4 release movement" you should buy the game for 20$ in a year
Unfortunately, I let myself be ragged on by the hype and marketing again
Let the downvotes rain in

“Hey Raz, I got one!” Raz’s voice was cut by static as he called back, “Great! …at quarry …die.” Well, that wasn’t ominous at all, I thought to myself as I adjusted the rear-view mirror to check on the operator I had just blown past. They were doubled over coughing, their gas mask swayed side to side on the ground next to their feet. I don’t know what compelled me to not flatten what I had thought to be an AQ soldier, but I’m glad I didn’t.
I slammed my hummer in reverse, coming to a stop next to the helpless operator. “Hop in bud, we can get you to final exfill yet.” He slowly hauled himself into the bed of my hummer, landing with a dull thud and a groan as he fell onto his back. We cleared the gas, and I was immediately put on edge as my passenger started to gain consciousness. If he was planning anything nefarious, there wasn’t much I could do about it now. “You good back there? Normally I’d stop to send an invite but given the situation that might have just caused more problems.” He leaned through the non-existent rear window, “Nah, I understand man. When we get further from the gas we can stop and squad up. Don’t need to risk lighting each other up if things get hot at the exfill.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I don’t think that would be much of an issue regardless. Hey, we didn’t leave any of your friends back there, did we? I know we peeled out pretty quick.” I saw him shake his head and point to our left in the rear-view mirror. “We got split up, but they were running for a car, so I wasn’t too worried.” I followed his finger, a white hatchback cruised along parallel to us, swerving through buildings trying not to eat too many AQ bullets. “Hey boys, Dutch here is gonna roll with us to final. We’ll squad up when we get there.” I was barely able to make out one of his squad mates call out “Tight!” over his earpiece.
“Hey, listen, I’ve got friend I’m rolling with. His name’s Raz, he’s gonna meet us at final. If you see a red, white, and blue LTV, don’t shoot alright.” Raz chimed in, his radio finally clear of the static, “That’s very kind of you to tell them not to shoot me Dutch.” Before I could respond, a black turreted LTV slid out of Said City ahead of us. “Is that your boy Dutch?” I wanted to give my passenger the benefit of the doubt, it is windy in the box after all, he might not have heard me. “Nah man, wrong colour, and he didn’t have a turreted LTV last I saw.” The black LTV continued North along the main road as we cut away into the quarry proper. “Raz, company is headed your way. Looks like it’s just a solo in that truck but you can never be too careful.” “Thanks for the heads up Dutch.”
I rolled to a stop at the base of the helicopter ramp, gently flattening a couple of AQ who were getting a little to close to the bird for comfort, just shy of the battery running dry. The other two operators in the hatchback slid to a stop just down the hill from us. I got out of the hummer, a tad worried that my good fortune was about to come to an end at the hands of these fellas. As they ran up the hill, the notification finally popped. I accepted and ran down the hill to grab the hatchback, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wait, where you goin’ Dutch?” One of my clients called out. “Raz and I will run interference while we wait for the chopper to take off. Any AQ or unfriendly operators are gonna have to go through us.” “You keep talking about this Raz guy, but I’ve yet to see anyone other than that black LTV.” Almost on queue, a black LTV flew up the hill narrowly missing my hatchback. My clients went into a frenzy. “Operators pushing us! Take ‘em down!” The LTV spun in the sand in front of me, a glorious and perfectly oiled moustache glinting in the Al Mazrah sun. “Hold your fire! It’s Raz!” I called from below my clients. I sent an invite to him which he had hopped out and accepted faster than any of these guys could pull the trigger. “You see the operator that was in that earlier?” Raz shook his head, “No, I pulled up on it and they were gone. Must be out on foot somewhere.”
With 5 seconds left on the clock, there wasn’t enough time to go find them, our clients now panicking as they realized we weren’t on the bird. “What are you two doing?!” They shouted from the air as we waved goodbye. “Al Mazrah is our home gentlemen. That bird was never meant for us.” I gave Raz a pat on the shoulder as the gas rapidly approached, another successful day had come to a close.
The clack of a Kastov charging handle was almost unmistakable. We both turned to see the operator from the LTV standing there, rifle honed on us. “Well shit.” Their rifle dropped towards the dirt as they looked back over their shoulder at the nearly out of sight exfill chopper. They pushed through us, wandering towards the North side of the quarry. Raz and I locked eyes, shrugging in unison. That was one of those moments where we really wouldn’t have blamed them for their decision, whatever it might have been. “We better get back to HQ, Compton said I.T dropped off something for you.” Raz said as the gas engulfed us.
“I’m going back to the island boss.” My hands were shaking as I gripped the file folder that I.T had left for me. “Twitch.” “He’s back, it took him a bit, but he’s managed to re-take the castle and hunker down since we last saw him. And if he’s back then we might finally be able to get some proper intel on those blue tracers, direct from the source.” I handed the folder to Raz. He took it, turning to no doubt address the rest of the crew. I grabbed his shoulder, stopping him before he could speak. “Not everybody, not this time. They’ve doubled the defences; we’d be walking into a slaughterhouse.” “Well, you can’t go in there alone, we look out for our own Dutch, you know that.” Raz’s brow tightened, I could tell he was already trying to figure out what my plan was. “I’m bringing Maze and Alex. They’ll provide sniper cover while I infiltrate the castle. I still have my old uniform. As long as they haven’t drastically changed up their callsigns, I should be able to get in undetected.” I could tell Raz wasn’t convinced. “Dutch, like you said, you’d be walking into a slaughterhouse. How does you going in solo make that any better.” “After what happened in the complex…I’m not putting anyone else at risk, I can’t. The Bomb Maker…Twitch, I’ve gotta face him myself. Look him in the eyes so he knows I crawled out of Hell to drag him back down there.” “Alright, I couldn’t really stop you if I wanted to, could I?” Raz shrugged. “No, not unless you shot me, and honestly, I’d take those odds.” I punched his shoulder and started heading for the breakroom to grab Maze and Alex. “You keep that up I’ll be moving you back out to that sea can of yours.” Raz smirked.
The locks took a bit of fighting to get open. While this footlocker had only been on Ashika Island for a few months, the constant spray of salt water had worn away what little integrity it once had. The black uniform, emblazoned with the Rook and Spade of Shadow Company, was still in excellent condition, save for a bullet hole just under where the plate carrier would sit. I paused for a moment, holding it up in the air, memories of the past flooding in. “Not a lot of fond memories in that uniform I take it.” Maze called out from the catwalk in our home away from home. “I think part of the problem is that there are good memories. It’s a little concerning that such fond memories can hide out amongst so much evil.” “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. Some of us just did things other people also wouldn’t be proud of either.” Alex chuckled to himself as he cleaned his rifle on the cot next to me. I grimaced, mostly because he was right. I slipped into the old black fatigues and strapped on my old plate carrier. My weapons were all still intact too, I pulled my Taq-56 out of the footlocker, running my fingers over the engraving in the side, ROOK-XLIV. I cycled the charging handle a few times before loading in a fresh magazine and setting it on the cot next to me. I pulled out a pistol belt, two pearl handled revolvers, one with an ebony Rook on the grip, the other, an ebony Spade. Umbra Catavae engraved along each barrel. Maze had come down from the rafters now, a look of mixed intrigue and concern on her face, “I take it those don’t invoke fond memories.” I had done a poor job of hiding my look of disgust. “No, unfortunately they do.” I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. “Each of these was given to me for completing outstanding performance in the field. I did things I’m not proud of, and I was rewarded for it, handsomely. Holding these in my hands, I feel the same pride I had felt when they were first handed to me. It makes me sick.” I strapped the belt around my waist. The pearl handles shining against my all black silhouette. Alex piped up again, “Hey, at least you are trying to make amends for your sins, not many can say the same.” I let out a long sigh, “I suppose you’re right. You both remember the plan?” “Get to the radio towers and start lighting the place up when shit inevitably hits the fan.” Maze grinned. “Close enough.” I pulled my balaclava up and headed for the door.
The guard at the gate didn’t immediately shoot me which gave me some spark of hope that this might work. “In position!” Alex and Maze called out almost simultaneously. “Jinx, you owe me a beer!” Maze rejoiced. “What? Why would I give you a beer for that?” Alex sounded genuinely confused. “Hey, cut the chatter you two, don’t need to give them any reason to not let me in alright.” The guard held up his hand. “I don’t recognize you, let’s see your I.D.” I held up my old I.D card. “Well I’ll be damned, look who crawled out if his grave.” He pulled my mask down to confirm. “You look pretty good for a corpse, though your I.D card is out of regulation. You might want to stop by the I.T guy to get a new one made.” “Thanks, I’ll head right over.” The first thought that came to my mind was Bob. There’s no way he still worked for these assholes, is there.
“You used your old I.D?! You mad man!” Maze cackled over the radio. “Ok, I’ll admit, this wasn’t my greatest plan. I honestly thought they’d just capture me after seeing who I was.” Alex cut me off, “Go with the flow I suppose.” “Spade-499 up one-two.” The local radio channel began to drown out my squad’s comms. “Rook-3468 down one-one” “This is some odd radio traffic Dutch.” Alex quipped. I watched as a Shadow Company mercenary approached a stairwell, each step primed and ready to pop a leg off whichever unfortunate soul chose to ascend. “Spade-5454 up one-two.” “It’s how they know to deactivate the traps.” I whispered into our secure line. I approached the same stairwell. “Rook-44 up one-two.” I could hear the traps audibly click off. The guard at the to put his hand out as I reached the top step. “Sorry, no ghosts allowed on the second floor.” “Ghost? What…” He bent over laughing. “I’m just messing with you man. They said you died holding off the ULF while Bob and Twitch escaped, going out in a blaze of glory. Clearly, they didn’t have their facts straight. Glad to have you back.” I’m glad I had the balaclava on because I was struggling to hide my confusion. Last I checked I was the scape goat for the largest backstab in Shadow Company history, not a hero. I was never a hero when I worked for them. “I take it you are going to see the boss, call up two-zero, we don’t want people to be just guess on the fly, just in case someone tries to sneak in.” If only he knew.
“We don’t have eyes up there Dutch. Whatever happens, you’re on your own.” I could hear a tinge of worry in Alex’s voice. “Just make sure whoever is in here doesn’t get reinforcements.” “You got it!” Alex and Maze both called out in unison. “Jinx, you owe me another beer.” “There’s free beer at headquarters, why would I owe you a beer for that.” Alex called back clearly still confused. “Radio silence please. I’ve got a rat to kill.” I took a deep breath, pulling my Bryson from its sheath, the chrome exterior brushed over with a dull grey to blend in. “Rook-44 up two-zero.”
“Well, well, well. I was wondering when I’d see you again after our last encounter. Urzikstan and Al Mazrah clearly hadn’t kicked your ass enough so you decided to come crawling back to me for another round.” The traps clicked off. “Come on up, I’ve been looking forward to this.” I slowly ascended, keeping my Bryson trained at the top of the stairs, my eyes scanning each stair for an actual trap. As I crested the stairwell, my eyes were immediately drawn to him. His back turned to me, Trophy Systems whirring and clicking around him. “I missed you Dutch. Well, the old you. The one that would shoot through a hostage just to prove a point, the one that would dangle captives from buildings by their collar until they squawked like a bird, and then still dropped them anyways. I miss the Dutch that smoked Keller because his gas mask worked and yours didn’t when we those crazy Russian’s tried to hit us with mustard gas. I still get a little nauseous when I think about you peeling his face out of there.” “I’ve changed Twitch, I’ve moved past all that. I found a calling that doesn’t require me to be a conniving bastard.” Twitch laughed as he turned around, his hands empty. I kept my Bryson trained on him. “That’s what you think I am huh? I prefer shrewd businessman, but if that’s what helps you sleep at night.” He walked to one of the barred windows. “You really think what you and those taxi driving hooligans are doing matters?” “Clearly it does, or you and the Chemist wouldn’t be working so hard to sabotage us.” I took a few steps towards him. “Well, I suppose it matters to one of us. The Chemist and Raz go way back, but you know that. What I care about is the money, and I get a lot of money for helping that crazy bastard try to wipe out your little band of Merry Men.” “And Women. This guy just loves the sound of his own voice. Can I remove his head already? He’s looking right at me, practically begging me to pull the trigger.” I could hear the contempt in Maze’s voice. Twitch always did love a monologue. “You can still fix your mistakes Twitch. Gives us what info you have on those tracers of yours and I might consider not killing you.” I snarled. “When you went soft Dutch, you lost any respect I might have had for you. We are long past the point where you can intimidate me. Besides, any info I did have, is with the Chemist. He paid a handsome sum to get the formula, and really, it was becoming a logistical nightmare to ship enough of those little blue gems across the sea. Better for everyone to have it made close to the front lines.”
“Spade-101 up two-zero.” Bob’s voice cut through the tension. “Well I’ll be, it looks like we are gonna have a little family reunion.” Bob’s head poked up the stairs, “Hey boss, another server bank has shorted out from the sea air, I told you we should invest in better waterproofing the housings but if you still…” He trailed off as I dropped my Bryson, the sling catching it just before it hit the ground, and drawing my two revolvers. “Oh, hey Dutch. Nice to see you too.” Bob stammered. I cocked the hammer on each one, keeping one trained on each of my old squad mates. “Really Bob? Really! I understand you sticking around the day of the heist. But now? After everything that Shadow Company has done to these countries. To its own people.” Before he could respond, a siren blared over the intercom system. “Defensive positions! Hostile operators have breached the perimeter.” “Dutch you’ve got six operators approaching the castle, I think it’s time to bounce.” Maze was drowned out by her own gun fire, her Signal .50 raining death into the courtyard. “Looks like our time is up here Dutch. Since you clearly don’t have los cojones to pull the trigger, you might as well see yourself out, and let me and my men handle this.”
“Fuck it.” The hammer of the first revolver slammed down, dropping Bob instantly. I turned to face Twitch, his face a mix of surprise and pride. “Maybe I was wrong, the old Dutch still lives.” I charged forward, tackling him through the window and off the roof. Both of us lay on the ground, groaning as the chorus of gunfire roared around us. He dove for one of my pistols, but unfortunately for him, I had managed to hold on to the other, putting a round through his arm just before he could grab the gun. He rolled out of the way of the second round, bringing his one working hand up to the radio on his chest. The explosion from the castle threw both of us across the courtyard, debris raining down around us. I felt like I was reliving one of the worst days of my life all over again. I hauled myself to my feet, Shadow Company mercenaries and operators wandered aimlessly through the ashes. Everyone seemed too disoriented to fight. “I think it’s time to leave Dutch.” “I second that.” Maze and Alex were barely audible over the ringing in my ears. “Regroup at the boat. If I’m not there in 5, go without me.” I never heard a response, even if they tried, they wouldn’t have convinced me to leave, not with him still breathing.
I combed through the smoke and fire, carefully checking every nook and cranny I came across but the slippery rat was nowhere to be seen. “Looks like you 3 aren’t thick as thieves after all, eh Dutch. Poor Alex here was left all alone on the beach, no boat to be seen.” Twitch was sucking in air between words, no doubt kept standing by adrenaline. “You lay a finger on him, and I’ll make you wish you had died in that explosion.” I spat into my mic. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I limped over a hill towards the beach where we were supposed to regroup. “Alex! Where’s Maze?” I called out as I stumbled down the sand bank. Alex didn’t respond, his head held in a tight headlock by Twitch, my second pistol against his temple. “She abandoned you both, and now I get the pleasure of killing you both after yet another betrayal. When will you learn Dutch. This world is a cruel place. Only the strong survive, clearly Maze knew that.” Twitch cut me off before I could retort. “Save the fight me with honour B.S that I know you are gonna spew.” I’m gonna kill you and your buddy and salvage what little I can of this operation. Then maybe retire to Cuba. I do love a good cigar.” “Adios, pendejo!” Alex brought his arm down, the knife concealed in his hand connecting with Twitch’s thigh. Twitch let out a high-pitched yelp, letting loose a round from the revolver which narrowly grazed Alex’s hair. Alex dove into the sand right as Twitch’s shoulder exploded in a pink mist followed shortly by the unmistakable crack of Maze’s Signal .50. I squinted trying to see where the shot came from, all I caught was the glint from her scope in the sun, the boat hardly visible in the rolling surf.
I limped forward, Bryson in hand, chrome starting to show through the worn grey paint. I kicked the revolver away from Twitch, placing a boot on his chest and the barrel of my Bryson against his forehead. He began to mumble and cry, hardly able to string together an understandable sentence. “Save it, you’re gonna need your energy for what comes next.” Our boat slammed into the shore, Maze hopping off, rifle raised and ready. “Oh shit I actually hit that!” “I’m not gonna lie, I thought you’d actually just bailed.” I laughed as she helped Alex to his feet. “You still go those claymores?” I asked Maze as Twitch continued to writhe in panic under my boot. “You wanted the old Dutch, eh Twitch. Ask and you shall receive.” Maze handed me the claymores, while Alex kept sidearm pointed at Twitch. I planted 4 around him, just far enough away that they wouldn’t go off unless he moved. I drew one of my revolvers, popping the cylinder out and emptying all but one round. I gave the cylinder a spin before flicking it closed. I tossed the revolver at Twitch. “Don’t waste that on me. You’ll only regret it in about an hour.” I took my other revolver, and hurled it towards the sea, the pearl grip glinting in the sun as it spun through the air, disappearing into the crashing waves. “Good riddance.” I sighed, that chapter of my life finally ended. Twitch was silent, his whimpering now just deep, laboured breathing. I turned back before I stepped onto the boat, watching as his hand slowly moved to the pistol in the sand next to him. “Well played Dutch, well played.”