Hi, it's me again. I've made a couple posts here before. I'm definitely FOT and center full, I have almost no tissue on my outer sides and underneath. I believe I'm projected but I don't know how much (just a little or a lot for my size?) And my tissue is rather soft, it ripples when I lightly tap. I also think my roots are narrow, I can only fit 1 finger between without touching breast tissue while I'm wearing a bra. They start right I'm front of my armpit, and I think they're short as well since they start just under my armpits on the top too. Full coverage bras cover everything I have, but I'd like to show a little sometimes too. I'm based in Canada, so US stores are out of the question as I can't afford shipping.
My measurements are 30, 29, 27.5, 31, 33, 31.
The only real wired bra I've tried in my real size so far is aerie sunnie 30C. When I swoop and scoop it feels a little tight and the top of the cups fits perfectly, but the bottom and very sides are empty. After I breathe out they settle into the bottom of the bra and push it down about an inch. Will trying in a 30D help? Should I be trying bras in sizes other than 30C, and which sizes should I choose? I have a few 32B bras which all ride up in the back and flatten my boobs out.
I've heard t shirt bras aren't good for projection, but I'm honestly scared of unlined bras. I mostly need a bra for modesty purposes as my boobs aren't heavy at all. In scared that an unlined bra will make my boobs conical shape obvious or my nipples will show through, completely defeating the point of even wearing one. My nipples will poke through 3 layers of clothing if I don't wear a bra!
I'm really lost as all the recommended bras on this subreddit seem to be quite expensive and lacy! I hate lace and prefer soft and stretchy fabrics. I can't find anything in my price range other than aerie but the fit was not comfortable at all until I cut the wires out of them. I knew literally nothing about bras before this subreddit and even now that I'm educated in sizes, I have no idea what stores to try. Nobody I know irl has boobs as small as mine either so they don't have a clue where to send me. I tried the one and only local boutique, but they start at a 30D. All the bras I've been recommended start at a 30D on Amazon or have insane shipping costs. The mainstream bra stores in town start at 32A and 34AA.
Is there anything out there that meets all my needs?
My price range is also a factor. I'm willing to spend up to $40 on a bra if I have to try multiple sizes. Less is definitely preferable though.

The beagle who holds the Guinness World Record for solving the fastest crossword puzzle is a remarkable dog named Purin. This talented pooch hails from Japan and has gained worldwide recognition for her impressive skills in puzzle-solving. Learn More - Purin's background, her training, and her incredible Guinness World Record achievement.

I'm confused about how the Alien bases are supposed to be discovered, because I've had some annoying experiences with them.
I first found the containment enforcer base through the sunbeam event. I got the purple key from somewhere earlier, and I explored the base. In the base I found clues to the two other bases. Later in the game, I follow one of the clues, and head south west from the Enforcement tower, until I find alien vents on the ocean floor. I find the nearest chasm, and explore to the depth the clue says, 800 meters. Here I find a giant fossill, and an alien building. The building has a gate, locked with a yellow tablet. I have never seen a yellow tablet, so I move one, maybe there will be one in the cave. I find another alien base, that talks about the bio creatures the aliens created. No tablet in here. A bit later, I explore this area even more. It goes deeper, to a firey region. I follow this region . I eventually find a giant alien structure, but the only door has a blue tablet lock. I have never seen a blue tablet.
​
I have no radio logs to check, no more hints directing me. What am I supposed to do? It was a huge pain in the ass getting down here with the cyclops and prawn, I dont wanna trek all the way back to base just to still not know what to do.
​
This game is a bit frustrating in its design. It needs a better log, and I now appreciate the subtle genius of Outer Wilds' "theres more to explore here" feature. IN Subnautica, I never quite feel like I know if I've explored an area fully enough to have all the important info. It kinda forces you to explore every nook and cranny, and scan everyhing. But it also puts duplicate items and fragments everywhere, so exploring super thoroughly gets tiresome.
Did I miss some key clues in my clue chain? It feels a bit like I'm sequence breaking and its causing the endgame to fall apart a bit.

I recently decided I'd give Camping a go after grabbing some bargain bin nightmare Ozark Trail 6 Person "dome" tent, and it was a regretful experience, but my kids enjoyed it all the same.
Now I'm wondering what I'll have to spend to comfortably fit the entire family whither it's air matresses, cots or air pads on the floor. I'm in lower Tennessee/Miss/Arkansas state lines "Outer" Memphis as I call it.
Something I could take with a full length Rain Fly would be nice for Fall/Heavy rainfall protection
But I've no damn clue what price range I should be looking in.

Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for allowing fanfiction and giving us Tilfish.
[First] [Prior] [Next]
.*~*.
Memory Transcription Subject: ? , run run run run run run.
Date: December 2, 2136
.~*~.
I'm tired. I'm so unbearably tired. I don't remember the fall or when my legs quit working, but I'm still denied the sweet release of sleep by the fires radiating from my muscles. It's sick and twisted, but I don't think I can move any more. I'm stuck here face down in the soil, unable or unwilling to do anything but wonder if a harvesting drone will roll over me and turn me into mist on the crops I'm lost in. My mouth itches. Some loose soil in my nose makes me hack, but there's nothing I can do but wheeze and pant. There's not a drop of moisture left in me. I'm all shriveled up. Everything's a haze.
I should've stopped for water. There was time. A few ponds that didn't look filmed over with vile algae blooms. The last town had a fountain on the outskirts. There were a few distant outbuildings that could've had a sink or a hose. Really, a few mouthfuls would've been enough to keep me from cramping up. Now I feel like I'm all dried out, like a stick of fruit jerky.
I should've taken a break. I've not been able to run in so long. I knew it was getting bad, but I ignored it. I'm paying for it now. I pushed way too far. Run until I black out. Wake up. Repeat. For days and days, or however long I've been free. I don't know. Every time I wake I can't tell if minutes have passed or days. I would push myself back to my feet and run. Because distance is all that matters. I made the right call avoiding the roads. The cameras. The soles of my feet are battered and wail in pain, but for every step I took was a minute longer I got to feel the sun kiss my scales and the gentle caress of the wind upon my neck. The cool soil seeping into my burning side. Fresh air in my lungs. Faint mist on my back.
I should've calmed down. I'm wasting what little time I have left stuck here in misery. I missed my chance to escape. My saviors were predators, but it would've been a better fate. And they're everywhere. Monsters and Predators alike. The whole planet is getting what it deserves. I made my choice, but now I'm squandering it. At least the soil is nice. Even as broken as I feel, it is only temporary. I know this is heaven. I wouldn't trade it for anything else. Even if my tongue is dried and bleeding.
I.
Just.
Need.
To.
Get.
Up.
no no no no no. Hurts. Hurts hurts hurts.
UP.
My body rebels. I settle on crawling. Dragging my tainted digits through the soil and forcing myself through the mud.
Puddle. Puddle Puddle Puddle.
I'm glad to be alive. I'm glad for this puddle. It's my whole world. I crawl to it as quickly as my body allows and beyond, but I'm too dehydrated to cry at the lancing pain in my joints. I slip and tumble into it face first, a cold shock making me freeze up. I don't even try to drink at first, my eyes closed as I lay partially submerged in this brackish water. It makes me feel slightly better as the cold gently eases my neck muscles, and I feel the rest of my body cramping up again.
Imagine drowning in a claw of water. I'm suddenly terrified that it's possible. I throw an arm out and dig it deep into the mud, clawing silt as I awkwardly pull myself in sideways. I roll, splashing the rest of the way in and feeling my poorly treated scales weep as the cold bleeds into them. I lay my head sideways and drink, gagging at the taste but unable to stop myself. I still can't cry, but my face is still trying to produce tears anyways.
In delirium, I notice the corner of a structure well above me. It's a pole, made of metal and towering well above me. Morning dew drips off of it and into my eye not currently submerged, and I blink it away.
Thank you pole. You're a life saver.
I don't plan on moving for a while, so I don't. The dew drips onto my snout several times, and my body rejoices at the cool water I've partially submerged myself in. The silt in my mouth is a necessary and tolerable evil from my desperate dive, and I angle my snout so that I can catch the fresh dew dripping from above instead. It tastes far better than the puddle, and for the first time in ever, I feel a smile creeping on my face.
.*~*.
I blink lazily, one eyelid operating a few seconds behind the other. I feel better. This blackout felt more natural, less forced. Like a gentle wave over my mind than the harsh crack of a baton. My mouth is still full of silt that I spit out, and a moment later I realize I can spit again. The bitter taste of blood in my mouth is faint now, and the joy of having a wet palate can't be described.
ow.
It hurts to move. I try again, but my flesh feels like it's been filled with concrete. My muscles are too tight on my bones. Stiffly, I try again, making little progress, but still progress. I edge out a claw at a time, barely getting my neck out of the pool before collapsing, the chilly waters leaving me shivering.
Where am I?
A very good question, I ask myself. I don't know. That's the cost of running without direction for so long. I think I'm in a field, judging by the crops looking over me and encompassing my wide vision of the vibrant sky overhead.
Yeah... that's it. I'm in a field. Brilliant observation skills.
I try again, but nothing new comes up. For the first time since I fled, I think about what I'm going to do. I'm free. I'm free. What am I going to do now that I'm free? How long do I have? I know the answer to that already. I have a long time. Everybody that knew me is dead and gone. I just need to be careful and not ruin this chance. I should try and find a town. Cities are too big, too many problems could come up. Too many exterminators. I could start over off the beaten path. Somewhere I can hide in plain sight.
This is Sillis. Being me shouldn't be an issue. I... I can get a labor job somewhere. Change my name. What can I do?
...
What can I do?
What is my name?
"Oh dear." I whispered quietly to myself, brows furrowing. Odd. How odd. I can move on from that. Makes starting a new life easier. Something that isn't four walls and a paper thin mattress. Something outside. I just... need to get... out of this darn puddle. No, still not happening. Ouch.
I splash my paw into the puddle in frustration, using about the full range of motion I seem capable of in a mild fit. I want to stay on the move, but the consequences of my poor decision making have come back to bite me right on the rear. At least I have some time to think.
I could try the lumber industry. That's usually away from people. I think I can figure out how to knock down trees, or at least fix up the machines that can. Maybe I can join a farm around here once I'm cleaned up. There's always something to do on a farm. Like counting shipments, or unloading shipments, or loading them. Maybe I can fix things around the property. Golly, I hope I know how to fix the automated machinery. That would really be nice.
Ooh! I could try and be a tram service maintenance operator. Wait, no no no. That requires background checks, I think. Darn it. Uuuh, road utility services? No, that'll take me into cities one way or another. There's a ton of work with drainage systems and water run off here. I could get good money for that since it's risky. Pollutants, constant thundering streams of water. I think I can go with that. There would be a lot of rural investigations that I could apply for. If not, I'm certain the underground construction projects would bear fruit. I'll miss the sun but nobody would bother me too much... no, still too many people. Drainage systems it is!
A faint whistle catches my ear and I freeze, tilting my head as something green flies just overhead. It clips several stalks and leaves as it passes, but seems unbothered as the severed branches fall to the ground and leaves gently cascade after. I follow its path with an eye and it vanishes between some tall plants, leaving me alone just as quickly as-
Nope, the same thing floats by again, darting between crops once more directly above me. It's odd, I can't hear wing beats or buzzing, or see anything keeping it airborne as it passed, and I wait with baited breath to see if it shows itself again. I don't know what I feel, but it isn't terror. It's... something. Curiosity? This time I hear a chirrup, but it's close. I don't see it float by, and painfully I crane my neck and look at the other side of the puddle.
It's an insectoid of some kind, strangely wide and flat. It looks pretty similar to the leaves on the many trees that I've seen since I got out, with uneven, tapered sides. It has a few pairs of legs, and it scuttles to the puddle and dips the front of its body towards the surface. It really does look like a large leaf, but my observation is cut short when the bug abruptly stops moving within barely a claw of the water, a pair of forward facing compound eyes snug against the stem near the tip of its body. It chirps again, and I see narrow maw under the front of this creature, a slim set of fangs briefly glinting in the sun before its mandibles hide them.
"Oh dear." I manage to whisper.
With remarkable dexterity it hops across the body of water and splashes down on top of me, and several legs grip my ribs and arms. My tail flicks under the water's surface, but I don't move as the thing's maw looms over my snout. A smaller set of feelers touch my scales and let it guide where it can't see, and it pecks at my nostril once. I smell ozone and feel a different fire burn in my core, and relax.
This isn't ideal. It really isn't. But it's still better that what once was. You won't hurt me for too long. You're better than they ever were.
Trading my cell for this... it's not that scary. Somehow, despite this predator straddling me and chewing on my snout, I'm not scared of it. I have alarms shrieking in my ears and ozone burning my nostrils and wrists. Bubbly poison twisting my insides and making me gag. I'm terrified of that, but that's long gone. That broken visage cuts deep, but it leaves me feeling empty. I'm alone with this thing pecking at my skull, occasionally chirping or hissing softly as it chews over my scales.
It's little mandibles flutter over my cheek and squish it, the fangs behind it pricking at my scales but never really puncturing. It's odd, almost exploratory. I hear a faint plip as some dew from the pole overhead drips onto the creature, and it leans back slightly to presumably look up. It lowers back down on me, and I wince as it gets a little rougher. It halts for a moment, mandibles still dancing over my scales, before I feel a set of legs slip past my arms and latch onto my back.
I grit my teeth, expecting it to finally lunge down and bite into my flesh as the rest of it's body tenses, but with a start it lifts me up with strength I didn't think it had. My back scrapes along the mud as it lifts me and drags me partially out of the muck. It lowers me down just as quickly as it started, leaving a bit of my upper body out of the water and in the warm air. I blink as it lowers its body down onto my own, legs tightening its grip on me as it presses itself against me. It chirrups again and resumes nibbling on my neck, and my mind absently puzzles over this change of events.
It's roosting on me. Is it my body heat? I feel cold, but maybe it's colder. I wish I knew what you were. I'm glad you're not really biting me. It tickles, stop!
I couldn't help but squeak out a laugh, despite the very present danger I was in. The bug tensed for a moment but didn't sink its fangs into my neck, and after a moment it resumed licking at me. Slowly, it's legs tightened on my body and it pressed itself against me further, and it hissed softly. I closed my eyes when it's maw pressed against me, but once again no bite split me open and drained my lifeblood. It's mandibles tickled my scales some more as the creature flattened out, the ridges of its body laying in the mud as it settled down. I was all but buried under the thing that was almost as big as me, and my tail swished lightly in the water.
Once again, I find myself stuck. I wasn't going anywhere anyways, but now I'm very stuck. Hopefully it doesn't get peckish. This thing could definitely eat me if it wanted to. It's funny that I'm supposed to fear it. All those training exercises failed. Every test and experiment. Maybe it enforced the wrong behavior. I think I might've been respectfully afraid of this creature once, but that part of me is all burned up. If it existed at all.
.~*~.
I've missed the novelty of clouds. Sillis has an overabundance of them, but so far I've been lucky that none of the ones passing overhead were angry. It's almost odd that no rain has come, but I'm glad. I faintly remember that the rains could become acidic if there's too long a pause between storms. Too much smoke or warp residue building up in the atmosphere.
So far I've counted two absolutely towering thunderheads and small storm systems roll by in all their stunning glory, and dozens of smaller offsets in their wake. Hundreds of individual clouds dot the skies, not quite blanketing it yet. It's pleasant, even within the grasp of a large, sleeping predator that's fully enveloped me. I can feel it's diaphragm shifting ever so slightly on my chest, and it twitches occasionally.
I don't mind. For now, things are peaceful. I'm enjoying that. At least, until something crunched a few rows over.
That sounds a lot bigger than this predator.
The creature shifts slightly but doesn't wake as whatever else is out there stalks through the crops. It has to be a predator, from how quiet it moves. Every little rustle and faint step happen far from each other, and my mind immediately jumps to an ambush hunter. Carefully, I move my head to catch a glimpse of the thing, trying not to disturb the slumbering creature that is currently resting it's mouth on my neck. My scales fade into a dirty black that matches the soil, and I squint to hide my eyes from whatever is out there.
There's movement on my left, something tall shifting between the crops a few rows down. I hear a rumbling noise- a deep based growl, and the back of my skull itches.
"...D-1?"
No no no no no. I don't want to go back. I want to be free.
I know what the thing is. It's a new predator. A sapient one. The same ones that freed me. The same ones that wanted to herd me onto a ship. I can't do this. Sapient predators are cruel, far crueler than the average ones. A normal predator wasn't personal about the kill. It could be reasoned with. Where did that come from? A sapient predator was ruthless for entertainment.
I owe them my life.
They'll just take it.
There's a rustle from a different direction, and a behemoth steps out of the crops far closer to me than I would prefer. It is armored like the many I've seen before, but I realize instead of a firearm it wields a bulky tool of some kind tightly in its paws. It dawns on me that it's colors are different, green and blue instead of solid blue, and there's a colorful flag of some kind pressed on the garments of its arm.
"Copy." It rumbled quietly.
"Crikey, you spooked me there!" the other predator whispered, changing course. Thankfully the closest one broke off to meet it, and they stopped one row over. It was best I stay still. Their hearing was better than they let on. "Okay, did you get it done?"
I can't see them clearly, but some non verbal communication must have occurred because the one predator continues speaking.
"Good. Look, trouble is coming. A fellow seppo noticed the ordinance went missing. He's suspicious. There'll be heat soon. Have you made any progress with the other front?" A pause. "Same. I've dealt with several of his goons, but none knew anything good."
"I'll have him tonight."
"...D-1?"
"An exterminator account and reversed polarity on some switches works wonders."
"...you seppos are terrifying."
"We're a world power for a reason."
"...yeah. Do you have the drive? Nice. You keep this up and we'll have everything we need from this planet before Christmas. We're going to make things right." There's an odd grunt, and one of them starts rumbling quietly in what translates as amusement. "Involved in peace. What do they really think this accomplishes?"
"Don't care. We find our whales and move on."
"Come on, we can have some more fun if we're careful! Don't act like that doesn't entertain you after that bomber plot of yours!"
"S-4," there's an undertone in that growl that makes my scales shrink, "remember the prize."
"...God, you're a hard ass. Fine. I'm certain you're carrying that giant wrench for peaceful reasons and not to crack open any skulls out here. I'll check the smuggling routes. Rig up something to keep these bugs under our thumb. You keep being you. I need to move before they notice I'm gone."
Faint footsteps leading away, and I sighed. While brief, just being around them made my scales crawl-
The crops right beside me parted, and the other predator stepped out. It's covered foot splashed into the puddle, and stirred the predator enveloping me. Much to my horror the thing chirruped and hissed, releasing me and spinning around. The apex predator looked down at the smaller thing and regarded it.
:)
The drawing on the mask was comical, and not at all what I was expecting. Most humans didn't wear masks, so blinding terror didn't sweep me away. I almost laughed at the absurdity of concealing one's face, only to make a lazy drawing of a face overtop of it.
The smaller predator didn't find it nearly as confusing or entertaining as I did, and hissed. The apex didn't falter, but surprisingly held its ground despite being threatened by a lesser predator.
Most predators would make a threat back and assert itself. Or lash out. What is this one up too? It's not acting submissive so it isn't backing down. But it isn't retaliating either. Does it need to? It's using it's own size as a deterrent.
My thoughts are interrupted when my toothy cover abruptly spins and flees, gaining air under its body and become airborne. It slashes through a row of crops and is gone, just like how it arrived. The apex still hasn't moved. It takes a few steps forward, nearing me. I can't tell if it's looking at me or not so I close my eyes tight, hoping that my eyes hadn't given me away. There's a thump right beside me and I flinch. I can feel it's presence. It has stopped walking.
It knows. Somehow it sees me. It knows it knows it knows.
Something warm grazes my neck and I flinch again, despite myself. I can't do it. I don't want to die with my eyes closed. I want to see the sun and the clouds and the crops, not this faux darkness.
I open my eyes and it's right there, crouched over me. I can't bother with wasting my energy by screaming. It saw through my camouflage and had a paw to my neck. I wished it to be merciful and just strike me down with the wrench it brought, but it doesn't. Instead it plunges its paw into the water, under my rump. It rips me out of the water and I gasp as its other paw slips down under my shoulders and lifts, but my mind catches up a moment later when it pressed me against it's chest instead of its mouth, forsaking my exposed stomach. It's grip loosens slightly and it adjusts, an arm under my shoulder blades and legs. I can feel the muscles rippling in it's grip, and how easily it could fold me over backwards and squish me. I've seen it first hand.
But it's so gently. So unbelievably gentle. I don't remember the last time I was touched like this. Something in a dark recess of my mind wavered, and I realized I'd curled my tail around the creature's arm without meaning to. It holds me a little closer, nowhere near enough to hurt, and my scales start to change to match the colors it wears. It's not looking at me, the mask is angled too far up. We're moving at a blinding pace suddenly, the rows of crops blurring in my vision. It doesn't stop. This apex runs like a machine, each breath consistent and calculated to a rhythm I notice. Its breathing labors but it keeps going, warm jets of air spitting out the bottom of its mask and onto my soggy, damp form.
It's so warm. I didn't realize the chill of the water until now but I'm shivering. My body takes over for my confused mind and curls into the predator's grasp, trying to get as much warmth from the human's rough garments as I can. I don't know what's come over me. I don't know where it's taking me. I don't care. I can't escape it, and if this thing kills me it was at least kind enough to be gentle.
The skies are so beautiful. I try and focus on them but all I can really see is the predator's mask. I can see the bottom of it's jaw, the taught muscles there. I dread what its face looks like in this moment under that mask. Its digits tighten on my shoulder and side in response to me curling into it, and absently I wonder how this predator is the same as the ones from days ago with their thundering bellows and ruthless firepower.
The apex thunders out of the field and I'm assaulted by new sights. There's a few dozen of them roving around a clearing by several vehicles.
I also spot an Exterminator's van, and my claws unsheathe. The predator winces and I realize I've nailed him with them, but he doesn't throw me down or bark at me. He sprints by the van without stopping, but I see several Tilfish locked inside and doomed to a terrible fate worse than being eaten.
"Ambulance!?" It barks sharply, out of breath. It skids to a stop beside one of the transports, clutching me firmly.
"Just left with the patient. Where the hell did this one come from?" An unmasked predator growled, eyes beady and looking over me. Mine made an odd jerking motion and continued.
"Get Doc."
"I will. What hospital are we calling?" The thought of a clinical space makes me flinch. White walls. White floors. Cold tiles. Needles. Beeping. Humming. Frying.
"None. Operational security."
The other predator screwed its face up and departed, and abruptly mine was sitting down on the back of one of the trucks. Gently I was plopped down on its lap, and I watched transfixed as it peeled its armor off, then its outer garment. There's an image of a veiled human on the back with its eyes closed, head craned down. Its hands are clasped together in thought, and the meaning of it goes over my head.
The predator is a lot smaller than I thought it was. It gently lifts me and set me in the garment, before it starts wiping me down with it. I'm too sore to fight it, and the cloth is exceptionally warm from the creature's body heat. It pulls me closer and holds me in a way that makes my chest hurt, and it looks out at an approaching predator. It rumbles softly.
"You're going to be okay."
My body relaxes despite my mind's warnings. I'm wrapped up in this garment it wore. I can't escape it. But it's warm. The material soaks up the water on my skin, and wipes away the grime and muck I've accumulated over the days. Slowly, my scales begin to shift again, bleeding back to my normal tan coloration.
"Did something finally bite you Sunshine? I haven't seen you run like that in- oh-kay." The approaching predator flinched when it got close and tensed up.
It wants to eat me. This one- Sunshine- it won't let it without a fight. Are they going to eat me? Sunshine won't. Right?
"I thought there was only one victim." The predator rumbled after a moment, creeping closer. I shrank into the material and took on it's color, only for a warm paw to settle on my arm.
"You're fine." Sunshine whispered. It looked up at the approaching predator and jerked its head awkwardly. "There is. Look at it. Do you see it too?"
Gently, it lifted my arm. I was too stiff to pull it back, not that I could've against its powerful grip. I was completely exposed to this other predator.
"Relax. Please." Sunshine whispered once more. The growl was soft, and I looked up at the mask above me. The grip on my arm was careful, I realized. I could pull away right now. Slowly, my scales lightened. The other predator leaned in closer and I flashed white and yellow briefly, but Sunshine propped me up a bit and started gently poking at sore parts of my body. My ribs. My neck. "Here. And... and here."
The other predator's eyes seemed to get bigger. Something deeper changed in its face. "Holy shit." It made to move forward and I reeled back, pressing myself further into Sunshine. The predator immediately froze and slunk back.
"He can help." Sunshine rumbled softly.
Oh dear. Oh dear.
It touched me. It's diminutive nails didn't rend into my scales as it touched my ribs, prodding them softly. Sunshine adjusted how it sat so that the other predator could have better access to me, and I couldn't help but focus on the skies again as it assessed what part of me it wanted.
Sunshine won't let it eat me.
I don't know where the thought came from, but it was firm. I believed it entirely. Even though Sunshine was a sapient predator, it wouldn't let it happen. Maybe it claimed me as its own already. I... I had doubts I would be eaten. The thoughts were there, but Sunshine had a perfect chance already. Unless it wanted to flaunt its catch first, which the Arxur did- but it was gentle. Sunshine was better than an Arxur.
"Malnourished, deep sores. Ulcers. There's bruising up and down the rib cage. Jesus- sorry."
"They're old. Persistent. Its feet."
"What about..." The predator got quiet. I felt my scales shift in worry as it gingerly lifted one of my legs. It remained quiet, but its face stretched further. "What happened?"
It was looking at me. Asking me. I shrank further into the fabric, but there was nowhere to go. The silence was unbearable, and I started trembling.
The silence continued.
"A runaway." Sunshine rumbled after forever. I didn't understand what that meant. My translator didn't pick it up quite right. Run-away? Like fleeing? Was that what these predators called their prey? No... no that didn't seem right. It was possible, but...
"Could have been kidnapped." Another word I didn't understand, but my translator worked on the other predator. Stealing a person by force? Using fear outside of the law? How did predators have such a word? "We need to get it to the hospital. Figure out what happened and how it ended up in this field."
NO NO NO NO NO
Sunshine's arms draped over me before I could escape, my attempt no better than a drunk Mazic trying to fit through a Venlil sized door. I couldn't stop the whine in my throat, but its soft digits down my back froze me. A subtle noise filtered out behind the mask, and it settled me back down in its garment. It picked up an edge lined with little metal teeth and draped it over me, blocking my sight from the other predator. I felt safe, suddenly. Sunshine's firm grip on my body didn't feel threatening. It felt like a promise, as it carefully pulled me against it's bulk. I was warm, despite my terror.
"Zuda will handle it. No hospitals. This stays with us."
"Sunshine," the other predator protested, "we need to figure out what happened!"
"Think, Doc." Sunshine growled, and this was no doubt a warning. I felt relief that the difference between the two growls was so obvious.
"What?"
"Think. Use your head."
There was a period of silence. "You don't... that can't be right." I didn't understand what conclusion it made.
"The injuries are uniform. Too clean to be anything else."
They can't know. How can they know?
"We need confirmation!"
"We already have it." Sunshine stated, and slowly the fabric was lifted off of my head. I blinked, and noticed that the other predator had changed a different shade.
That's odd. Are you predators like me?
That's terrifying. I'm not a threat. I'm me.
"It reacted to the van and mention of a hospital, Doc. Nobody outside the UN hears of this. Operational security."
It... does Sunshine know? How do they know?
"What the fuck is this planet, Sunshine?" The other predator lamented.
Sunshine didn't respond. He looked around at the surrounding encampment, and I realized it was shrinking. They were leaving. A few other predators were subtly watching as they worked, but I doubted they could hear the conversation with how quiet it was. I realize there's a few Venlil in their ranks, unbothered by their presence and even wearing garments similar to the predators around them.
A digit tapped the end of my snout and I flinched, looking up at Sunshine. It's paw retracted as the other predator withdrew a medical kit with a paw print on it and began to unclasp it. "You're safe. We're... we're going to help."
You know. You know what I am. And you're helping me anyway. Why are you helping me? I'm weak. I'm dangerous. But not to you. You're an apex. Is that why? Does your species stick together, unlike the Arxur? Do you uplift those around you, no matter if they're prey or dangerous? The Venlil are not afraid of you. You must not eat them. What do you eat? It has to be meat. But, it must be something that they can handle. Does what makes me dangerous fall away under your hierarchy? I hope it does. It doesn't seem real. I guess to you, what makes me a threat is meaningless.
I believe Sunshine. I really do. When the other predator comes forward with a healing gel, I surrender.
I am safe.

Again, so sorry for the multiple posts guys!! They’re all so long, Reddit wouldn’t allow it lol but I just had to share. Please refer to first post on theory to help bring it all together. :)

1. Donna and Jim argue about transparency; Jim realizes the food shortage was to induce stress. “They would be trying to increase the stress levels.” Stopped talking bc of Ethan. Jim is meant to be the smart character and will continue to work on escaping. More proof the place needs trauma and fear from the people they trap.
   
2. Boyd’s in pain again–the music box plays, the ballerina dances. As if it’s a series of “signals” to cause something. A deeper connection?? This time, the ballerina tries to ~suffocate~ CHOKING him. This act alone creates more stress and fear for Boyd—”They” attacked him on purpose!!*Marielle walks in as he’s stripped from the vision, pulling a gun on her all terrified.
   

Edit: As if the ballerina’s movements (the choking part specifically!!) influenced Boyd’s attack on the monster—hand to neck! Thank you kind stranger in the comments for this clue!

1. Fatima is upset that Ellis kept secret about seeing Sara with his dad in the forest from her; Ellis calls out how Fatima changed after that night (just shows she’s pushed to the brink–she’s been trapped for a year after all); Dale fights with Elgin accusing him of stealing food, tensions rise with more people at Colony; Dale the Idiot accidentally stabs Ellis
   
2. Boyd talks to Father Kahtri again, says the worms are getting worse; Kahtri congratulates Boyd’s newfound personality traits of vulnerability, humility, asking for help and showing weakness. Based on this scene, I believe it is “Them” behind the Father bc it’s as if they’re highlighting valuable traits of a hero. A role that needs to be fulfilled in the grand scheme of things. The first time Kahtri appeared to Boyd, the music box played.
   
3. Kenny catches Boyd talking to himself. Marielle told Kenny about Boyd pulling a gun on her so Kenny shuts the door on him, doesn’t feel it’s safe.
   
4. Like a boss, Elgin grabs the truck to transport bleeding out Ellis and a surprisingly composed Fatima. I loved this driving scene btw. The direction was awesome.
   
5. They arrive at the clinic; Boyd walks in realizing it’s his son, running at him in a panic. Kristi’s doing the damn thing, Marielle helps. Kristi relieves pressure on Ellis’ side, blood drains.
   
6. Fatima freaks out in front of Boyd, he comforts her. Elgin snuck out bc of seeing blood, Kristi informs them Ellis needs a blood transfusion.
   
7. Boyd panics! Argues about the worms. Kenny pulls a gun on Boyd demanding him to give blood. Worms activate–they’re NOW visible to everyone. Kenny offers Boyd to pass it to him. As if “They” influenced this. Remember “They” are watching.
   
8. Out of desperation and panic, Boyd has a reckless idea! Or it’s really “Them” influencing him. ;) “It has to go somewhere right?” He rushes out, calling the monsters. “Come get me. I know you out there… you wanna play games, well I’m standing right here! I fuckin—” The most freaky lookin mfkr of them all shows up. Fk that smile!
   

Boyd readies himself but then sees more of them coming from behind and soon more come; Boyd cuts himself and then slices the monster’s neck. As they close in, Boyd rushes in to place his palm on the monster’s open wound. He holds it in place. “My blood is your blood now, motherfucker.” Soon, his arm’s writhing in pain as worm blood is being transferred.
I believe “They” needed Boyd to do this to determine the “transfer” was effective.Now that Boyd is the “next hero,” he will be chained up (remember how there were more dead dried up bodies in the wall?) and be drained until the next cycle and the new hero emerges to repeat the “formula.”

1. The monster’s true form emerges as he dies, robbing them of their illusion. Fellow monsters ignore Boyd, approaching the dead monster instead and looking quite fascinated; they soon leave. This entire scene!!! This highly suggests 2 opposing forces at work!! whoever’s controlling the town, the purpose is to eradicate the monsters. More specifically, the Bigger Evil–that’s the agenda.
   
2. Ethan confides to Donna that he’s scared. Donna urges “being scared is a good thing.” “Fear is something that lives inside us… but fear might be the most important one of all. Because w/o fear, we wouldn’t know how to be brave. ”FEAR IS WHAT MAKES US HEROES.”
   

Huge clue supporting why they’re being trapped and tortured; as if the place is a Fear Farm. The 1st force are the monsters and the Big Bad that made them, while the 2nd force are using the town to help create some Hero Serum (worm blood) to eradicate the evil overrunning the real world.

1. Transfusion is complete. Wonder if Ellis absorbing the worm blood will interfere with “Their” mission or that whole setup was dictated too.
   
2. Fatima may be pregnant
   
3. Kenny and Boyd stare at the dead monster’s body
   

Hope any of that helps! Even to help formulate your own theories. And yes, I’m a nerd who has an unhealthy obsession with this show, and I’m traveling right now, so plenty of time to binge watch (much better experience btw!) and write this long ass analysis lol. For context, I love Cube, Vivarium (movies) and 1899, Archive 81, Outer Range, Servant and Dark… actually anything that mindfucks lol.
If I missed anything, do let me know so I can edit this as necessary or if you find any connections that need to be added. It’ll just take me a minute since I’m on a trip. Cheers!!

Chapter Sixty Six: Plotting with Puppy
Entering into the entrance hallway of the apartment Simone tentatively holds up her hand to inform the other two women to wait.
”Something wrong?” Chak asks before looking down at Zrume who sits at her side vigilantly.
The animal’s ears perk up and nostrils flare silently, keeping her own tabs on the situation.
“Hope not, but…” Simone replies in concerned thought, “While I was stranded on the Gratt homeworld and just getting to know Meeki, she was chased and attacked by big burly dogs like Zrume here. Not the same breed of course, but I wanna check in with her before waltzing in, you know? Her only experience with dogs being like that, she probably needs a warning.” she informs.
Chak’s eyes widen slightly and she quickly nods.
“Oh, of course. Yes, that’s a good idea.” she agrees before placing a lower limb on the mutt’s big head.
“Surprised you accepted taking it! You seemed very scared of it at first.” Sonla comments, having been keeping her own distance from the animal thus far.
“She’s a little scary, certainly. Definitely intimidating in size and stature…” Chak grants, “But that look in her eyes… she’s without a doubt a very good natured girl.” she says while gently petting the dog.
“I think so too, but we’re gonna have to be careful introducing her to everyone and make sure she knows who’s a friend. Don’t want her thinking any of them approaching you is of concern.” Simone says before walking ahead to enter the apartment, “You guys wait here, I’ll just be a sec.”
Entering the apartment proper, Simone looks around the circular center hub space. There’s a faint smell of pizza in the air as the empty boxes are still resting on the counter island in the kitchen area. However there is no sight of either Gratt or Terran outside their disheveled mess in the center media couch.
Simone would have felt a but more concerned with how late the three seems to be sleeping in, but the evidence around reveals that they just have been up late having fun while they can.
However, knowing that she still can’t surprise them with the pooch, she walks over to the Gratt’s room and knocks her knuckles against it.
Though when Troy answers it dressed in nothing but a blanket Simone looks over to the other room doors confused.
“Oh, morning dude. Sorry, did I forget who’s room is who’s?” she asks in a chuckle.
“Nope.” the sheepish man replies as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, “Uhm… shoot. Yeah, uhm… Meeki and Nodrin are just waking up too, need me to get ‘em out for ya?” he says as his cheeks redden.
Simone’s eyes gradually expand in realization as she tilts her head enough to see the partially collapsed fortress of pillows and blankets. Nodrin pokes their head and upper torso out from the draping wall in a stretch, while another pair of loving Gratt hands massage their torso in the usual process of separation.
“Hmmmm… morning good Simone.” Nodrin groggily utters as they more fully pull away from their softly chittering partner in a crawl out.
Returning her eyes back to Troy to grant the nude Nodrin a bit of privacy, Simone clears her throat and rubs the back of her head.
“Wow… It looks like you guys had a hell of a time. Uhm… congrats? It seems like it went well. Right, ahh… Yeah...” Simone rambles with several streams of thoughts going through her mind, but she eventually snaps to it by raising her voice slightly, “Meeki? Nodrin? I need you two to get dressed and step out asap. There’s something I need to run by you guys before Chak comes into the apartment.” she calls out to the Gratt before winking at Troy and stepping away and scavenging one of the few remaining cold slices of pizza in the fridge.
“Okay!” Meeki’s voice replies before Troy closes the door to get dressed himself.
Simone updates Chak on the situation with her Lens as she leans against the kitchen island, and only waits for about a minute before the three hurry on out more appropriately garbed. For the most part.
Troy is still shirtless as he wanders out and approaches the kitchen area and starts digging through the cupboards.
Meeki and Nodrin run up to the island by Simone and sit up on the stools. The female wears a gray shirt that’s way too big for her, answering why Troy’s outfit is incomplete.
“Well I’m not seeing much guys, we can try ordering in again. But there’s enough to work with here for some quick and dirty pancakes. Not seeing any syrup or jam, but I think I can make something real quick with these frozen fruit packs in the freezer. Maybe I’ll just throw ‘em into the batter and see if it works out?” Troy tells the duo, seeming to have picked up a conversation they were having while getting dressed, “Oh! And bacon! At least… something that looks like bacon. Definitely not from a Terran animal so I can’t be sure if it’ll cook the same.”
“Sounds much good!” Nodrin agrees as they rest their head in their hands, watching the half dressed Terran get to work, very much enjoying the show.
“What we need to discuss?” Meeki inquires the nearby redhead.
Simone nods before finishing off the slice in her hand.
“Chak and I brought some new friends back home with us, and I wanted to give you a heads up. Probably should’ve messaged ahead… but let’s just say we were a bit distracted. One of them is a Vorook named Sonla. She’s a bit of an infiltration expert and I have a good idea of what she can do in case things don’t go to plan. That said, hold back on details with her for now.” Simone says, to which the Gratt nod, “And… the other is a security service animal that was gifted to Chak by the Z’ah’tuck ambassador. Long story.”
“And I thought we had a wild night… Did you even manage to have that date?” Troy says over his shoulder as he mixes wet and dry ingredients in a bowl.
“Yes, actually. It was amazing, all this other stuff happened afterwards. Anyway, Meeki, Nodrin. I want to clear it with you before bringing the animal in because… it’s a dog. Meeki, I know for a fact that your introduction to dogs was harrowing to say the least, because they were the animals those Gaia people used while invading your home.” Simone addresses the two green folk, seeing a bit of confirmation of her concern in the responding fearful Gratt eyes looking to the entrance door of the apartment.
“The four legged beasts with fur?” Meeki inquires a bit nervously.
“Yep. But I assure you that this one will mean you no harm. Those Dogs that attacked you before were raised and trained to do so. But dogs themselves are domesticated animals that are broadly safe to be around, as long as you don’t make yourself a threat to them. And even then, they may just cower from ya rather than fight. That said, Chak’s new dog Zrume is trained to be a kind of bodyguard. It’s important to know to not act aggressively towards Chak when she’s ‘on duty’, alright? However I’d like to socialize her with you guys here in a sec while she’s ‘off duty’. You know, to make sure she understands you two are friends and permitted near Chak in times of crisis. Is it okay with you two to let them in?” Simone elaborates.
“So… this dog is nice?” Meeki questions for full confirmation.
“Chak called her a sweetheart herself. And I completely agree. As long as you don’t bum-rush Chak for some reason as soon as she walks in, you will be perfectly fine. Just don’t stare into her eyes until she’s comfortable around you. For dogs direct eye contact can be seen as a threat.” Simone answers, “Ready?”
Meeki blinks as she watches the door for a moment longer.
“Yes. Is okay to bring them in.” she nods.
The redhead pats Meeki’s shoulder reassuringly and messages Chak, informing her that she is cleared to enter.
Everyone within the apartment turns to get a look as the entrance opens up to the Cali princess holding a leash to an animal that weighs more than she does.
Meeki relatively takes hold of Nodrin’s hand, but otherwise remains calm as the god is brought closer to the kitchen area.
Chak stops and pulls up a list of provided commands that the canine is trained in.
“Zrume, at ease. Safe zone.” she states firmly, hoping that she did it correctly.
Immediately, Zrume’s posture loosens and even becomes a little wiggly as as she looks down and begins sniffing the ground and nearby furniture within range of the leash’s allowance. Although the leash straightens out, the gentle creature doesn’t pull against her owner’s grip, instead simply shifting her focus to something else.
Quickly that focus comes upon the two Gratt still sitting on stools. Coming closer with caution, Zrume approaches the strangers carefully.
“Lower your hands with palms out, let her say hi first.” Simone advises.
Nodding Meeki slowly obliges, twitching slightly as the animal starts to sniff her clawed hands. Then in a side-rub against Meeki’s legs the dog opens its mouth in a relaxed grin exposing her tongue.
Feeling like permission is granted, Meeki starts to pet Zrume’s shaggy fur along her vertical back.
Nodrin then lowers their hands as well for another sniff-inspection before being enthusiastically allowed to join in on the petting.
Meeki’s nerves gradually fade as the animal proves to be indeed very friendly and well mannered. Nothing like the animals that intended to tear her to shreds way back when.
“Hello Zrume.” she says in a relieving sigh.
At the sound of her name being spoken by this new person the dog arches her head back and up at the Gratt female. Her expression being only what can be defined as ‘goofy sweetness’ with big expressive eyes and a heavy swinging of her happy tail.
Simone covers her mouth, trying to not snort a laugh upon seeing the dog’s dorky nature. Removing her bag from her shoulder she turns to look at Sonla who has been very quietly looking around the apartment and the folks within.
“And this is Sonla. Sonla, this is Nodrin, Meeki and Troy.” the redhead introduces with a moving hand gesture.
The monkey-like lizard stood up from walking on her knuckles to give everyone a wave.
“Hi.” she says a bit awkwardly.
“Welcome to the circus!” Troy greets as he pours his pancake-fruit mixture into a heated and buttered pan. Leaving it for just a moment he leans over on the island and gives the Vorook a big smile, “Want any pancakes? I might have made a bit too much batter while trying to even out the texture.” he offers.
“I’m an obligate carnivore, so no thanks.” Sonla replies as she settles back on her thickly scaled knuckles.
“Oh, sorry, right. My bad.” Troy chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck, “Uhh… what about some bacon? The animal is uhm…” he turns sound to closely read the chilled packaging for the answer, “Premium cloned loamph? Not really sure how ‘premium’ cloned stuff is, but we got it!”
The man flips the package in the air with one hand while the other gives the lizard lady a thumbs up.
“Yes!” Sonla immediately replies as she maneuvers up to the remaining stool by the island, and adjusts it to compensate for her shorter stature.
“You got it!” Troy says with a finger-gun before turning around once more to tend to his cooking.
After a short while seeing the dog is handling the situation well, Chak takes off the leash. Zrume takes this opportunity to step away from the Gratt and further explore the space around her.
“She’s very nice.” Meeki says as she watches the animal sniff around everything that was in her path, “She play or no?” the Gratt inquires curiously.
“Oh yeah. I imagine she’d be happy to play things like fetch and tug-of-war. In fact Chak already ordered toys, food, a bed and a waste pad system to be eventually delivered to the Kwip-chap.” Simone answers before her fiance pressed up against her in a side hug.
“It’s only sensible to be prepared now, rather than later.” Chak defends in a chuckle as she keeps an eye on the pooch, “I just hope the children will like her.”
“I’m sure they will.” the redhead replies as she gently rubs the Cali’s back.
Meanwhile Sonla finds herself staring up directly at Nodrin with an unreadable expression.
“You… alright?” Nodrin asks.
“Why do you have four eyes?” Sonla bluntly counter-questions.
“Ah- uhm… because I was born with four? As most Gratt are. Four eyes not all that strange when it comes to other species. Truba, Carvv and Hallo as examples.” Nodrin answers, confused by the question,
“Well duh, but I mean why does your species have four eyes evolution wise?” Sonla clarifies, “Carvv and Hallo have four to see different light spectrums, and Dillo needed six to look upwards for falling debris in sandstorms and cliffsides. Runeani have eight! I think that is because they needed good depth perception.”
“Oh, so you much study biology science?” Nodrin assumes.
“No. It’s just kinda creepy to look at without context.” Sonla bluntly responds with a shrug,
Nodrin leans back a bit, finding themself a bit offended.
“Much rude… but if it make you comfortable to be around us then I’ll answer the best I can.”
“Sorry. But yes, it’ll help.” Sonla says, although to the Gratt her tone can stand to be a bit more apologetic.
“Very well. They help get more clear vision in dark places. Mostly they help us with close inspection and far distance seeing.” Nodrin explains before pointing at their pair of eyes furthest from the center of their face, “But outer eyes are much special. Our ancestors were aquatic animals and so Gratt’s outer eyes still have extra clear lids to see underwater.”
“Oh. Aquatic?” Sonla questions, “Where did head fur come from then? Are you like mammalian?” she adds with more genuine curiosity.
“I… don’t know…” Nodrin admits, “Gratt study past ancestors much, but we still know little. Though hope new tech from the stars can help with all our sciences.”
“I saw Terran article that said we closely resemble… uhm…” Meeki inserts herself into the conversation before trailing off as she forgets the classification used, “One moment…” she utters as she navigates her Lens to find the article she found, “Ah! Synapsids! Not exactly like, but much comparison. So we are compared to ‘Mammal-like reptiles’.”
Sonla blinks before looking back as the roar of bacon hits a hot pan.
“Huh… Neat!” she replies, “Vorook can’t really swim very well. We tend to sink and even if we don’t we are too top heavy so our heads get stuck underwater. Very funny to see, but also sad. But we are really good at climbing! We can hold on to and dangle from things for long periods of time!”
“But not holding on to speeding shuttles roofs, huh?” Simone teases, as she maneuvers her positioning to get a better line of sight on the sizzling bacon.
“N-no… Well maybe, if it didn’t get so cold so fast.” Sonla says,
Troy looks back at his fellow Terran with a furrowed brow.
“What did you guys get yourselves into?” he says as he breaks into a bewildered laugh.
“I’m sure you’ll know soon enough when you get the chance to look at the news. But by the end of it Chak managed to secure overwhelming Z’ah’tuck support for her and her efforts to take back the throne. Like… military support. Granted, they have a lot to gain from it, but so do we.” Simone reveals as she finds herself a bit closer to the plate where the man was putting down the greasy strips of crispy goodness.
Chak then lets out a genuinely humored giggle that borders on outright laughter.
Confused, Troy looks to Simone then to his other side where Chak is looking. Having somehow sneaked up on him, Zrume sits there while gazing up at him with big pleading eyes with a little line of drool dripping from her maw. Noticing that he is boxed in he turns to Simone and aims his tongs out at her.
“You already pillaged our leftovers, you can wait a few minutes for bacon!” he states sternly in his fake parental tone before turning to the dog.
“Sorry pupper… way too much sodium for you. It’ll upset your guts real bad.” he sweetly apologizes.
As he addresses the canine, Simone swiftly reaches over and silently snatches two hot strips from the plate and retreats back before he is able to notice.
“You motherf-” Troy laughs once he sees both Simone and Chak snacking on the stolen goods, but knowing he would do the exact same drops it immediately.
Simone smirks in victory as she wanders over to the circular center couch to make herself comfortable as they all wait for their other Terran comrades to return from their own mysterious mission.
-
“Well that wasn’t a complete disaster…” Brandy mutters as she strides ahead of Thorn and Devin with her arms crossed while marching into the apartment entrance hallway.
“Hard to believe we weren’t caught after that water tank collapsed… Almost didn’t have the time to scrub us from all the crossing security footage.” Devin groans in a low grumble.
“Getting caught? How about -oh you know- nearly crashing that tanker shuttle into a residential area!?” Brandy snaps back.
“Not my fault that the pilot passed out.” Devin argues.
“Sorta was, that kinda happens when you jumpscare a Zernth from behind like you did.” Brandy counters.
“It was either lose the target or try to convince the Zernth to turn left.” Devin sighs before he feels a mechanical hand press on the back of his shoulder.
Pushing him to hurry up, Thorn catches up with Brandy where he plants his other hand.
“Mmhmm. Not our best work. But we got the bastard and actually convinced the Squilla ambassador to help us out in our little operation here. Other than some spilled water, we managed to pull it off without a hitch. I say we all learn from the experience and get to what’s further down the trail. Remember what’s at stake.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But still… it’s those stakes that make every mistake feel like I’ve wronged the entire universe. Like it’s heavier than it has any right to be.” Brandy replies as she reaches the door, “One fuck up and who knows how many people will be hurt from it down the line…”
“Aye… but in the grand scheme of it all your actions have had the same weight your entire life, because it led you here doing what you’re doing. Still, you're right, it’s a lot to bear on the heart.” Thorn grants, “My advice? Take a note from Simone’s book. Just keep moving forward and rest in the arms of whoever you want to hold ya.”
“I honestly don’t know how she copes. It’d drive me into a downward spiral of stress and paranoia going through half of what she has.” the woman huffs as she reaches to open the door via indicator.
“Don’t compromise who you are, and preserve your capability to love throughout all of the hell life will march ya through. It’ll hurt, but it’s worth it because that’s how you win life.” the old man states right before the door opens.
“Yooo! Bout time! You guys want some cold pancakes? I can reheat ‘em if you’d like!” Troy cheers from the couch with two Gratt resting at his sides.
“I hope you three have moved from the couch at some point…” Brandy says with an exaggerated eye roll, “Have a good night?”
“Yeah we did!” the man answers both of Brandy’s sentences at once.
“I’m going to set up to get our finalized planning underway. Ten minutes.” Devin notifies as he peels off to his room.
“Good. I hear we have a new member to the crew?” Thorn says as he strides in with his hands on his hips.
As if summoned, Sonla’s head peeks out from behind the other side of the couch.
“That’s me! Master infiltrator Sonla at your service!” the Vorook introduces herself, now standing proudly upon the headrest.
“Master eh? Good… We’re definitely gonna need a master’s handiwork in our lil’ operation.” Thorn chuckles as he scratches at his five o'clock shadow.
“We were also told that we have a doggie?” Brandy asks as she looks around for any trace of the animal.
“Yup! Simone and Chak were just showing her off to their kids in a call.” Troy explains as he thumbs to their room.
As if summoned by Troy’s opposable digit, the door opens with Chak once again holding the leash of the dog.
“Welcome back, I hope everyone is alright?” the princess inquires as she guides Zrume out to meet Brandy first, “At ease, safe zone.” she reminds the animal.
“Why hello there! Oh my goodness I’ve never seen a breed quite like hers before! Like a big pitty and… African painted dog maybe? Has the color at least. Definitely some others mixed in there too, hint of mastiff or something else chunkier? But still all the pretty in a fluffy package!” Brandy says as she scratches under the dog’s wide neck, which is very much approved.
Though the angle of Zrume’s ears change to one of caution and alertness. Turning her head towards the old man who had yet to approach she released a low growl.
“It’s okay Zrume, safe zone.” Chak assures, but the animal’s stare remained intense on the cybernetic man.
Seeing the confusion and concern on everyone’s faces, Thorn raises his hand.
“Don’t worry about it, dogs and I don’t really mix. A shame really, but it’s something to do with how my non-organic bits emit a sound they find very agitating. Like a walking annoying dog whistle. I’ll see if Devin can do anything about that, but in the meantime it’s best if the dog and I keep separate.” he explains.
“Oh damn. Yeah I guess dogs never really approached you before. Bummer. I guess while we sort things out we’ll have her chill in our room.” Simone says apologetically.
“And I’ll bunk up when she needs some runnin’ around time.” Thorn nods back appreciatively, “She’s downright adorable by the way.”
As Chak turns back around to lead Zrume back in her room for the time being, Troy’s eyes go wide and he points at Simone dramatically.
“Shit dude I almost forgot! Someone came asking for you by name.” he reveals.
Looking to him with a bit of fear in her eyes Simone gave him her full attention.
“Who?” She demands.
“Don’t worry I never confirmed you were actually here and she seemed… not like the people we’re up against. She was a tall thin lady who said she was a friend of yours from your academy days? She left a contact card and before you ask, yes I scanned the hell out of it. She seemed to really really want to talk to you.” the man explains as he feels around his pockets and when he finds nothing he shoves his hand down the crevice of the couch until he victoriously pulls the card out of the furniture-void.
He holds it out to which Simone accepts hesitantly.
“Yeah, okay…” she mumbles while looking at either side of the card.
“Just be careful, our options of people who we can trust from your military career are thin at best.” Thorn cautions.
“I know. And… I think I know who it is. Honestly I have no clue how involved she is, if at all… but it’s quite the coincidence she shows up now of all times.” Simone admits.
“Is she gonna be a problem for what we’re planning to do?” Brandy asks.
“If she has nothing to do with the Terran terrorists, then I don’t think so. I’d ignore this completely, but I ought to at least know what she wants to talk about, clearly she knows I’m here anyway. No point in avoiding it, especially if she seeks me out during our operation regardless of her intentions we’re asking for trouble. The other big issue of course, is that she’s still with the Terran Union. This could just be a ploy to get me arrested and into Union custody.” the redhead says as she taps the card in the palm of her other hand.
“Then wherever she wants to meet I’ll come with you.” Chak announces as she returns to her Terran, “I’ll even request for Ambassador Zrreak’s attendance if possible, or at the very least have a representative of his there to show that arresting you would be a terrible political nightmare for the Union.” the princess adds sternly with an affirmative nod.
“Damn you're so hot when you get like this…” Simone replies in jest to alleviate her own nerves, “But yeah, I appreciate it.”
“But first before any of that potential shit-show…” Thorn says as he crosses his arms, “It’s time we put our main plan to paper. We have a president to possibly kidnap and hold at gunpoint after all.”
“Oh… wow. That’s a bit more than ‘less than legal’...” Sonla mutters with wide eyes “Good thing I’m a master of explosives too…”

1969 - Passport to Magonia: from Folklore to Flying Saucers

​

What does it all mean? Is it reasonable to draw a parallel between religious apparitions, the fairy-faith, the reports of dwarf-like beings with supernatural powers, the airship tales in the United States in the last century, and the present stories of UFO landings?
I would strongly argue that it is—for one simple reason: the mechanisms that have generated these various beliefs are identical. Their human context and their effect on humans are constant. And it is my conclusion that the observation of this very deep mechanism is a crucial one. It has little to do with the problem of knowing whether UFO's are physical objects or not. Attempting to understand the meaning, the purpose of the so-called flying saucers, as many people are doing today, is just as futile as was the pursuit of the fairies, if one makes the mistake of confusing appearance and reality. The phenomenon has stable, invariant features, some of which we have tried to identify and label clearly. But we have also had to note carefully the chameleon-like character of the secondary attributes of the sightings: the shapes of the objects, the appearances of their occupants, their reported statements, vary as a function of the cultural environment into which they arc projected.

​

Human actions are based on imagination, belief, and faith, not on objective observation—as military and political experts know well. Even science, which claims its methods and theories are rationally developed, is really shaped by emotion and fancy, or by fear. And to control human imagination is to shape mankind's collective destiny, provided the source of this control is not identifiable by the public. And indeed it is one of the objectives of any government's policies to prepare the public for unavoidable changes or to stimulate its activity in some desirable direction.

​

For the time being the only positive statement we can make, without fear of contradiction, is that: it is possible to make large sections of any population believe in the existence of supernatural races, in the possibility of flying machines, in the plurality of inhabited worlds, by exposing them to a few carefully engineered scenes the details of which are adapted to the culture and superstitions of a particular time and place.
Could the meetings with UFO entities be such artificial constructions? Consider their changing character. In the United States, they appear as science fiction monsters. In South America, they are sanguinary and quick to get into a fight. In France, they behave like rational, Cartesian, peace-loving tourists. The Irish Gentry, if we believe its spokesmen, was an "aristocratic race" organized somewhat like a religious-military order. The airship pilots were strongly individualistic characters with all the features of the American farmer.

​

1977 - Cosmic Trigger 1 (by Robert Anton Wilson)

​

He started to explain that, analyzing the reports chronologically, it appeared that They (whoever or whatever they are) always strive to give the impression that they are something the society they are visiting can understand. In medieval sightings, he said, they called themselves angels; in the great 1902 flap in several states, one of the craft spoke to a West Virginia farmer and said they were an airship invented and flown from Kansas; in 1940s-1950s sightings, they often said they were from Venus; since Venus has been examined and seems incapable of supporting life, they now say they are from another star-system in this galaxy.
“Where do you think they come from?” I asked.
Doctor Vallee gave the Gallic form of the classic scientific Not-Speculating-Beyond-The-Data head-shake.
“I can theorize, and theorize, endlessly,” he said, “but is it not better to just study the data more deeply and look for clues?”
“You must have some personal hunch,” I insisted.
He gave in gracefully.
“They relate to space-time in ways for which we have, at present, no concepts,” he said. “They cannot explain to us because we are not ready to understand.”

​

1979 - Messengers of Deception: UFO Contacts and Cults

​
Control-System Hypothesis

I believe there is a system around us that transcends time as it transcends space. I remain confident that human knowledge is capable of understanding this larger reality. I suspect that some humans have already understood it, and are showing their hand in several aspects of the UFO encounters.
The system I am speaking of may well be able to locate itself in outer space, as some of my readers will be quick in pointing out. Indeed it may, but its manifestations are not spacecraft in the ordinary “nuts and bolts” sense. The UFOs are physical manifestations that cannot be understood apart from their psychic and symbolic reality. What we see in effect here is not an alien invasion. It is a control system which acts on humans and uses humans. However, we still need to discover the source of this manifestation.

​

If the world around us is a world of informational events, the symbolic manifestations that surround UFO reports should be viewed as a fact of the greatest magnitude. If we consider the physical world to be an associative universe of such informational events, consciousness is no longer simply a function which is local to the human brain. Instead, consciousness should be defined as the process by which informational associations are retrieved and traversed. The illusion of time and space would be merely a side effect of consciousness as it traverses associations. In such a theory, apparently “paranormal’' phenomena like remote viewing and precognition would be expected, even common, and UFOs would lose much of their alien quality. These phenomena would be natural aspects of the reality of human consciousness, and would be subject to manipulation by the human will, both consciously and unconsciously.
In any case, these phenomena serve as a support for human ambition, a framework for human tragedy, a fabric of human dreams. We react to them in our movies, our poetry, our music, our science fiction. And they react to us. They are part of the control system for human evolution, like the nuclear process inside the Sun and the long-term changes in the Earth’s weather. But their effects, instead of being just physical, are also felt in our belief systems. They influence what we call our spiritual life. They affect our political institutions, our history, our culture.

​

If there is no time dimension as we usually assume there is, we may be traversing events by association. Modern computers retrieve information associatively. You “evoke” the desired records by using keywords, words of power: you request the intersection of “microwave” and “headache,” and you find twenty articles you never suspected existed. Perhaps I had unconsciously posted such a request on some psychic bulletin board with the keyword “Melchizedek.” If we live in the associative universe of the software scientist rather than the sequential universe of the spacetime physicist, then miracles are no longer irrational events. The philosophy we could derive would be closer to Islamic “Occasionalism” than to the Cartesian or Newtonian universe. And a new theory of information would have to be built. Such a theory might have interesting things to say about communication with the denizens of other physical realities.

​

Consider science from the outside: it is a machine for turning out knowledge. It has worked extremely well for a while. It has given us aircraft, television, and trips to the Moon. On the other hand, there are situations in which it is useless, because it assumes that the phenomena that are fed into it are natural and spontaneous. If something bigger or smarter than the ordinary human mind is around, if some clever deceivers use it to feed us phenomena that have been designed to fool us by Machiavellian spies or benevolent masters, then a “scientific” investigation will be useless. How can we find out whether or not anomalous phenomena can be dealt with in scientific terms?

​

The public has two usual positions on UFOs, either “It’s all nonsense,” or “We are visited by creatures from another planet.” Until today, the first position has been the stronger one. A majority of the public and practically every scientist has long thought that UFOs were nonsense – and that is why there are no UFO detectives. Now things are changing. So many people have seen strange phenomena that a new belief has been born. Scientific opinion cannot stop this shifting of power. Unfortunately, once disturbed from its comfortable position of rest, the public will shift to the other extreme and start believing in space visitations. This is unavoidable. It is so reassuring to have other forms of life come here! They may be horrible to behold, but at least “they” know about us, “they” care about us, and “they” have gone to the trouble of coming here to see what we look like! In the naive words of a New York Times science editor, “We are not Alone!”
There is another system. It is sending us messengers of deception. They are not necessarily coming from nearby stars. In terms of the effect on us, it doesn’t matter where they come from. I even suspect that “where” and “when” have no meaning here. How could we be alone? The black box of science has stopped ticking. People look up toward the stars in eager expectation.
Receiving a visit from outer space sounds almost as comfortable as having a God. Yet we shouldn’t rejoice too soon. Perhaps we will get the visitors we deserve.

​

1988 - Dimensions: A Casebook of Alien Contact

​

If they are not spacecraft, what else could UFOs be? What research framework can account for the physical effects, for the impact on society, for the appearance of the occupants, and for the seemingly absurd, dreamlike elements of their behavior? How can we explain that the phenomenon makes itself obvious to rural populations but avoids overt contact, choosing instead to deliver its message in bizarre abductions, in highly strange incidents? The theory that suggests itself, as we analyze and reanalyze the forces at play, goes beyond the notion that these are simply technological vehicles produced by advanced races on another planet.
Instead I believe that the UFO phenomenon represents evidence for other dimensions beyond spacetime; the UFOs may not come from ordinary space, but from a multiverse which is all around us, and of which we have stubbornly refused to consider the disturbing reality in spite of the evidence available to us for centuries. Such a theory is required in order to explain both the modern cases and the chronicles of Magonia – the abductions and the psychic component I believe there is a system around us that transcends time as it transcends space. Other researchers have reached the same conclusion. Some have come away deeply discouraged by the realization best summed up early in this century by Charles Fort, the author of The Book of the Damned: "We are property." Scholars of this phenomenon, [..] feel that we may be powerless before the complex and absurd capabilities of an alien intelligence that can masquerade as a Martian invader, as a primitive god, as the Blessed Virgin, as a fleet of airships.
The system I am speaking of, a system with mastery of space and time dimensions, may well be able to locate itself in outer space. Nonetheless, its manifestations cannot be spacecraft in the ordinary nuts-and-bolts sense. The UFOs are physical manifestations that simply cannot be understood apart from their psychic and symbolic reality. What we see here is not an alien invasion.
It is a spiritual system that acts on humans and uses humans.

​

The synchronicity and coincidences that abound in our lives suggest that the world may be organized like a randomized data base (the multiverse) rather than a sequential library (the four-dimensional universe of conventional physics).

​

Should we believe the witnesses who describe their experiences aboard UFOs? As I have pointed out throughout this book, there is no reason to doubt their personal integrity, their sincerity, and their honesty. The words of Dr. Simon about Betty and Barney Hill are still clear after twenty years: "The experience, undoubtedly, was real to them."
Does this mean we should take their recollections literally? I do not think so. These events took place in a reality we simply do not understand yet; they had an impact on a part of the human mind we have not discovered. I believe that the UFO phenomenon is one of the ways through which an alien form of intelligence of incredible complexity is communicating with us symbolically. There is no indication that it is extraterrestrial. Instead, there is mounting evidence that it has access to psychic processes we have not yet mastered or even researched. In the face of such interaction at the symbolic or mythical level, all the hypnosis sessions and the searches for implants may well be as futile as the questions of the inquisitors to the witches returning from the sabbath and the frantic search for the devil's mark on their bodies.

​

For many years, UFO phenomena have served as a support for human imagination, a framework for human tragedy, a fabric of human dreams. We react to them in our movies, our poetry, our music, our science fiction. And they react to us. They are not trying to communicate with a few individuals, with any group, with any government. Why should they? The phenomena function like an operational system of symbolic communication at a global level. There is something about the human race with which they interact, and we do not yet know what it is. They are part of the environment, part of the control system for human evolution. But their effects, instead of being just physical, are also felt in our beliefs. They influence what we call our spiritual life. They affect our politics, our history, our culture. They are a feature of our past. Undoubtedly, they are part of our future.

Yay, new chapter is (finally) out! Only took a damn month. Why must May be so busy? At least I've managed to get chapter 9 mostly done as well, so that will be locked and loaded soon. Then I'm hoping to pick up the pace a bit.
Anyways, in this chapter both the snow wolves and Tostig plan their next moves, and the decisions made will affect the Ulstads.
As always, this story can be read up to the current chapter in both fanfiction and AO3 if you'd prefer those sites to reading all the text on reddit.
Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14198757/8/Land-of-the-North-Wind
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45067345/chapters/119955676
Banishment
Tostig looked out at this city under siege. Part of him felt for his people, but at the same time they could not be allowed to bow to wolves. He would not bow to wolves and their demands. They were lesser, and they were rivals who were only useful for labor and trade in times of peace. And yet, the situation they were in now was not sustainable and everyone knew it. Just then, the door to his chamber was opened and his lead counselor, his right hand, stepped into the room.
“You wished to see me, my lord?”
Tostig took a sip from his wine chalice before turning away from his window and walking over to his desk with slow, deliberate steps. Upon locking eyes with his trusted advisor, the lord gave a small smile.
“Yes. I was hoping you’d have an inventory of our supplies ready to discuss.”
The counselor stepped forward, producing a stack of documents that had been written up by scribes. “Of course, my lord. Here are the inventory lists on the items you requested. Firewood, coal, wine, ale, spirits, bread, and meat are all right here.”
The counselor then placed the lists in his lord’s outstretched hands.
Tostig then got to the point of their meeting, “but all of these lists are to answer a single question. Do we have enough supplies to make it until spring?”
His counselor lowered his head and shook it slowly, “No sir. We’ll be out two months before the first ships can make safe harbor at the coast.”
Tostig sighed. “Then it’ll have to be done.”
“Are you sure, my Lord?”
“What choice do I have? We tried leaving, we tried getting necessary supplies, and even rations won’t carry us through the entire winter.”
“Those poor souls…”
“The keidran, overall, are tough beasts. And if you ask me, some of them played a hand in this whole mess, I just know it.”
“In what way could they be responsible, sir?” The counselor asked, confused.
“You really think every keidran in this town wants to be serving humans in some way or another? Their brethren are outside the walls, likely promising them a place of refuge for themselves and their slave relatives back east if they help the snow wolves kick us out.”
“That seems unlikely, my Lord.”
“Even if I’m wrong about their loyalties, the fact is keidran are more disposable than men. I can do without all these extra servants and menial laborers, but I’m going to need my miners and loggers when the snow clears, and the crown sends the best troops in Mekkan to our aid.”
“Your will is my command, sir. I’ll have Gerrick gather all his guardsmen in the great hall this evening. We’ll need every able-bodied member of the garrison.”
“Very good. Also, please send for the healer. These headaches… that medicine hasn’t been working.”
“Of course, my lord. Right away.”
The sun was setting on another day of the town under siege. The wolves had not made any moves to attack the walls, but why would they? They controlled the land and sea for hundreds of miles in every direction. A counsel of the elders was called in the camp overlooking the settlement. In the middle of the camp was a large, portable lodge made from thick timbers cut in the Snowy Pines. The frame was bound tightly by many hides, proving insulation and blocking the fierce winds that would often sweep across the tundra. Normally, settlements were permanent, but some wolves that had ventured into human territory took notes on how their rivals conducted war, and moveable houses were the answer to navigating across harsh country that was so brutal even the ever-adaptable humans had yet to conquer.
Outside the lodge entrance waited a tall, young snow wolf. Icy-white hair was bound tightly into a knot under a hat of seal fur. Extra layers of fur helped to protect the wolf from the elements, as even in winter the temperatures were colder than any canine could safely withstand. Blue eyes pierced through the growing darkness, a slight glow from his mana crystal necklace giving his face some soft illumination. He was waiting, watching for someone. Others came into the lodge one and two at a time. After a while, the young wolf was beginning to worry. “Where could he be?” The thought.
Just then a lone figure hobbled into view. A snow wolf much like him seemed to materialize out of the blowing snow that cut the visibility down significantly. Now only the glow of Callow could be seen in the distance. The old wolf, walking with a cane, finally found his way to the entrance.
“Grandfather, I was getting worried about you. You know I could help you up the hill, right?”
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself Bjorn. I might be almost as old as the wood holding that lodge together, but I can still find my way around camp. Now, let’s get inside, shall we?”
“Of course grandpa…” Bjorn then held the entrance to the lodge open so his frail kin could make his way inside where it was warm.
Following his grandfather inside, Bjorn was hit immediately with the warmth of a fire, fueled by wood brought in from the forest by sled, most of it cut down courtesy of the logging teams they had chased out a month earlier. The glow from his mana crystals was quickly overtaken by the bright, orange light of the fire. The young wolf removed most of his outer garments, placing them on the ground to use as a seat. He sat down behind where his grandfather had made himself comfortable. As an elder, the old wolf held one of the seats in the clans moot, the council of elders that had assembled to deal with the human problem.
All inside the lodge waited silently as their shaman conjured magical light structures from her crystal necklace in a ceremony to purify the air. The lights were dazzling. Bjorn’s favorite was seeing a replication of the night sky, a spell which was meticulously maintained through the generations showing each visible star as well as the moon. Another spell finished the ceremony, seemingly purging the air from the lodge, the fire reducing to embers, only to roar back to life as new, fresh air came in to fill the vacuum. It was then that the shaman gave a special blessing and prayer to each of the council members before taking her seat in the back as an observer. The five wolves then allowed for a silent pause to pass over all in attendance before beginning.
The designated leader of the council, tasked with mediating the clans moot, broke the silence, “my friends, our actions this winter may ensure the survival of our people and way of life, but one misstep and we will surely suffer greatly for our actions against the humans.”
A graying elder from the clan west of Widow Lake then saw fit to add in his thoughts. “Indeed, Bragi, but I believe our actions so far have been successful. The humans and their keidran servants have been completely cut off from their homeland and their king. No one will be able to help them until the snow leaves.”
Frey, the elder representing the clan at the split between the Widow and Pines rivers then spoke, “My warriors were successful in destroying any attempts by the humans to reach the sea. I’ve seen some of the bodies from their first attempt, and I believe that many of their most capable are dead. We ought to press an attack while we still have an advantage in the snow.”
Garth, Bjorn’s grandfather, and widely held to be one of the wisest elders in the North, urged caution. “It is true, Frey, that your warriors have slain many humans who could defend the walls, but many more are still inside. We’ve all seen the patrols along the top of the wall. Besides that, your warriors let one boat get away in the humans’ first attempt to summon help, didn’t they?”
Frey was forced to admit the mistake. “You are right, Garth, one did manage to slip away in the night. My warriors say they followed a light they thought was a lantern from the boat, but it was something else. It was alive, but they could not get a good look at it, and the light they followed led them into a sand bank. But a large storm hit shortly after. Surely, none survived.”
Garth had a different thought. “I would not so easily discredit these humans. Sure, they lack our fur, but they are adaptable creatures. I’ve seen with my own eyes the mines they’ve built. If they can bring the heart of Mekkan to the surface, their best may be able to survive winter.”
Bragi, always one to listen to a wolf with so much experience, wanted to know how this would affect their plans. “Garth, do you think the humans would bring reinforcements?”
“Assuming they survived, it could happen.”
Frey wasn’t as convinced. “Even if that one crew did manage to make it to the coast, it would still be months before the humans could bring an army to our shores. But that is all the more reason to find a way into the city.”
The last wolf in the council had been silent up until then. He was the youngest, though his offspring were still well into adulthood. He had earned a reputation as one of the best strategists among the snow wolves, having to regularly repel attempts by the forest wolves to gain more territory along the southern border. “An attack on the walls would be a failure. One does not kill a bear by fighting it on its terms. To kill a bear, one must outsmart it, and force the creature to fight in a way it is not used to.”
“So we should do nothing then?” Frey surmised, but the younger wolf shook his head.
“No, the wall is a bear. If we simply run up to it, our warriors will all die. But if we can find a weakness or fight the humans in a way they are not used to, then we will have the advantage.”
Garth then added is trademark advice of caution. “Though we must be patient, my friends. There will be an opportunity before spring arrives. As the weather gets colder and the snow gets deeper, our advantages will grow.”
Bragi then came to a possible plan of action. “I know Tostig. Once desperate enough, he will want an open battle where his trained guards can win, even in the snow. It would be too great of a risk to meet him in such a battle, but we could bait him to it.”
The wolf from Widow Lake then had an idea of his own. “My warriors could conduct raids on the humans’ stashes of firewood and supplies. There are some close enough to the walls that they can be reached. Once the humans start getting cold, they will be forced to either submit or do battle.”
Bragi nodded in agreement. “Do we have a plan then?”
All nodded and prepared to cast their vote when a shout from outside the lodge alerted the gathered snow wolves. A guard rushed in to deliver the news. The Shaman stood up upon this intrusion. “A clans moot is a sacred gathering, outsiders are not permitted unless invited. Child, why have you trespassed?”
The guard was gasping for air after running for a couple of miles to the main camp. “Apologies… humans… outside the wall.”
Perhaps the battle was coming after all? Bragi then stood. “Garth, have your grandson take your best warriors to trap these humans. This may be the beginning of the very battle Tostig would try to arrange.”
Garth then looked behind him at his nephew and nodded. “Go, Bjorn, I’ll find my way back. Be safe.”
Garth bowed his head slightly in respect of the others. “Thank you all for permitting me to the clans moot. I will track down and subdue these humans before they can cause trouble.”
With a wave of Bragi’s hand, Garth then exited the lodge with the guard and ran toward the main camp to find as many warriors as he could at a moment’s notice.
The Ulstads were preparing a dinner of rations in the empty tavern when a knock came from the front door. Anna Marie, who was closest, stopped sweeping to open the door. She was surprised by the evening visitor. “Sam, whatchya doin’ here at such an hour? We’re ya joinin’ fer dinner?”
Sam didn’t answer as he came into the foyer, but the look on his face told everyone that something was wrong. Liz stood up and quickly made her way to Sam, with Shadow and Asher close behind. Ivan leaned his head out from the kitchen. Liz took Sam’s hand in hers and looked him in the eyes. “Sam, what is it? News from Connor?”
Sam just shook his head. “I’m sorry Liz, I wish it was.”
Shadow then asked in a more direct voice. “Then what is it? You look pale.”
“It’s Tostig. He’s… well, he’s given the guard an order.”
“Come on, Sam, out with it?” Shadow said, worry seeping into her words. Sam took a deep breath to collect himself. They needed to know.
“Tostig has ordered every non-human in Callow… he’s banished them from the town.”
A thick, baritone voice boomed from the kitchen. “What?” A look of horror came across Asher’s face. Shadow too was shocked.
“Like Ivan said, ‘what?’” The leopard could hardly believe what she had heard.
“Liz, Miss Marie, you are both allowed to stay. But guards are going door to door right now and rounding up all the keidran. Shadow and Asher, you had better collect what you can before they arrive. I’ll escort you both personally so that neither of you have a hand laid on you.”
Anna wouldn’t have it. “They’s just as much people as us, Sam. Shadow, you and the boy should hide in the cellar. Ivan, get the darn hammer.”
“No Anna.” Shadow replied, letting it sink in. “We can’t just hide in the tavern all winter. Besides, what happens when you get caught?”
Sam had the unfortunate answer to that one. “Tostig has also ordered that anyone caught hiding keidran will be burned at the stake.”
That caused Anna and Liz to recoil at the thought of their own fate. It was more than enough for Shadow to make up her mind. “Come on Asher, we had better put on whatever clothes we can before— “just then, another knock came from the door, this one far more stern than before.
“Shit, they’re here already. I thought there’d be more time. Shadow, you can Asher meet Ivan in the back, I’ll get you three to the eastern gate.” Sam said before going to answer the door with Anna Marie. Asher didn’t quite understand all that was happening. He knew human well enough now, but things were progressing quickly for a seven-year-old. But Shadow quickly grabbed his hand and led them both into the room with Liz close behind. Once inside the room, Liz, locked the door to buy them at least a few more seconds.
Shadow, having been trained by assassins in the guild, wasn’t terribly concerned for herself. But being forced to leave Liz? She hoped that Anna Marie would keep the girl safe. Asher though was in trouble if they were being forced into the tundra. Her first thought then was to make sure the boy had as many warm clothes on as she could find.
“Here Asher, put this on, quickly.”
“I don’t want to leave, Shadow!”
“I don’t either, but we don’t have a choice. Sooner or later we’d be caught and thrown outside the walls anyway. Now bundle up as best you can be—”
Loud knocking came from the bedroom wall. “We know there are keidran in here! Open the door and come with us.”
Liz went up to the door to buy as much time as she could. “Just a minute!”
“Open it now woman!” Was the reply, but that was closely followed by Sam’s voice. “Hey, I’m highest rank here and I happen to know the two you’re after. Let me handle this and you two should continue down the stre—”
“Not a chance Sam, we’ve got orders from your father.”
“Then at least go get Ivan. Shadow and Asher aren’t going to put up a fight.”
Two more guards could be heard struggling to push the big wolf out into the street, and the intensity of the struggle caused the two guards standing near the room door to reconsider pushing their luck with someone who outranks them.
“Very well, they’ve got two minutes. If they aren’t out by then, we’re going to break the door down.”
Sam then moved to the side to let the two guards pass by.
Liz’s muffled voice came from behind the door “Are they gone?”
“Yeah, for the moment.”
A minute later, the door’s latch was undone, and it creaked open. Shadow and Asher had their wool jumpers on, along with whatever clothes they could find. Shadow was even wearing a pair of Connor’s pants. They were a bit tight but provided some extra insulation. Liz then followed the two, closing the door behind them.
“Why is this happening, Sam?” Liz asked.
“Apparently, we don’t have enough supplies to last the winter. So either everyone starves…”
“…Or the keidran freeze to death.” Shadow finished for Sam.
“Basically, yes. But you don’t have to freeze to death, there’s shelter that you can use, as well as food stores.”
“Where?” Shadow interrogated. Asher’s life as well as her own was on the line.”
“You’ll have to slip passed the wolves, but there are food stores and shelters in the new mining district across the river. It’s on the other side of Ditter’s Ridge.”
“Wolves?!” Shadow exclaimed. “How am I and the kid going to slip passed an army of wolves? They’d see us miles away!”
“I don’t know. I suggest hiding until the wind kicks up, the blowing snow will provide you with cover.”
The three stressed faces, Shadow’s looking like she was ready to murder, all stared at Sam.
“Look, this is a bad situation. I wish there was more I could do, but there isn’t. Tostig is Jarl, and his word is the law. If he says you must go, then you must go. If you try to stay, he could have us all executed.”
“Would your father allow that?”
“Tostig would execute my father too if that’s what it took to keep order in this town. I’m sorry, I really am, but—”
“But you’re doing whatever you can…” Liz grabbed and held Sam’s hand. “Is there a path or a tunnel or something that they can use to get around the wolves?”
“No, there isn’t. Look, you’ll have to move as quickly as you can. I’ll send help as soon as I’m able to, but right now this is your best chance of surviving.”
“Fine…” Shadow said, defeated and out of options. “Come on Asher, we had better go.”
The boy had other ideas “I don’t want to leave Liz! I want to wait here for Connor!”
“Connor…” Shadow thought. She tried to put it past her mind, but Liz knelt down in front of the boy.
“Asher, Connor isn’t coming back.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s been a month, and as much as I wish he’d bust into the tavern right now like he did with both of you back in the spring, it’s not going to happen. You need to leave with Shadow, she’ll keep you safe.”
“What about you?” Asher said, sniffling.
“I’ve got Anna Marie and Sam here to help. But you can’t stay here or Tostig would—”
“Kill us…” Asher said.
“I know we aren’t the closest, but Connor called you his brother, so I do too. Go, while you still can.” She then stood up. Before she could say anything else, Shadow embraced the girl.
“I’m sorry that I won’t be there to keep you safe.” Shadow said.
“It’s okay. But if you two stick together, we’ll all look back at this like a bad memory.”
“One of many bad memories.”
Sam knew time was up. “We better leave before those two assholes return. I’ll show you out a side entrance.”
Shadow and Liz let go of each other, and Shadow grabbed Asher’s hand before they both fled into the back alley behind Sam. The winding pathways between buildings eventually led them to a small door near the east gate. Shadow could see around the side of a building all the keidran being pushed out through the main gate. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, Sam produced a key, which began to glow as he recited an incantation. A hidden door nested into the wall glowed around the seal before opening, revealing a short tunnel to the outside.
“It’s one of the many emergency doorways out of the town. Only the guards have access, and most don’t know about them.”
Shadow, though impressed by the trickery, was hardly thrilled to be forced out of the walls. “If Connor ever comes back…”
“I hope he does, but for right now, you’re better off outside than inside.” Sam finished for Shadow, gesturing outside the wall.”
“Make sure nothing happens to Liz. Or I’ll find my way back,” Shadow lifted Sam off his feet and pinned him to the wall, “and burn this town to the ground with you in it.”
“I’ll protect her with my life if I must. You have my word. Now please, get out of here before someone sees me helping you.”
Shadow dropped Sam back to his feet, took Asher’s hand, and ducked through the hole in the wall. Once through, Sam closed the magic door with his key before slipping through an alley and joining the rest of the guards. Young ones were crying, old ones were being forcefully pushed, and at least one who tried to resist was savagely beaten. The guard was there to maintain order no matter the cost. After several minutes and much effort, the last keidran was shoved past the threshold. As the iron gate lowered from the ceiling, a couple of keidran made an attempt to get back into the town. But just as they were about to get through the inner gate, out of the crowd came several guards with crossbows. Without hesitation, their lieutenant gave the order to fire. In front of both humans and keidran, all those who tried to get through were cut down and left to die in the zwinger between the two gates. Their intentions made clear, the remaining keidran quickly fled from the walls just as guards took their positions along the walkway at the top.
Shadow couldn’t see what happened, but she could certainly hear it. Keeping Asher close, she used her skills at stealth to skirt along the bottom of the wall undetected. Asher at one point tried to say something but she quickly hushed him before continuing. Finding and avenue out in a blind spot from the guards, Shadow quickly moved past the ground torches could illuminate, finding safety in the darkness. Luckily, it was a clear night and Shadow could easily make out where the keidran had stopped. They looked to be in the process of scattering as keidran tended to do. They weren’t a clan or a tribe, instead they were in groups of individuals who knew each other. Shadow a year ago would have left them all to their fate, content to find the shelter she was informed of and waiting until spring. But now… now she could see scared children, elderly who wouldn’t make it two days in the winter snow, and many who were scared and confused, all in need of help.
“What are we going to do?” Asher asked, clutching onto her leg and looking up to her for guidance. He too was quite scared.
Shadow sighed, collecting herself. “We’re going to help them, Asher, and we’re going to survive.”
Just as the keidran were about to venture off in every direction imaginable, Shadow climbed up onto a rock and, illuminated by the moon, called for everyone’s attention. No one really seemed to care, at least until a loud, baritone voice cut through the air. Shadow looked to her side only to find a beaten and bloody Ivan standing near the rock, apparently having seen the pair in the cold. At once, everyone looked back toward the three figures next to and on top of the large glacial boulder.
“Good. Now everyone listen up! I’ve been told that there are stores of food and supplies as well as shelter across the river to the East. If we move now, we can be there by dawn, but we have to stick together, or we’ll all die.”
While some seemed ready to go, others weren’t sure. Arguing began between different individuals. Some wanted to make for the Snowy Pines, mostly the wolves. A few wanted to try and get over the mountain pass and into warmer country. Still others were talking about forcing their way back into Callow. None were, realistically, good options. But before consensus could be reached, or a complete breakdown in the large group of at least four hundred keidran, snow wolves approached from all sides, weapons at the ready. Out from the darkness emerged a big wolf, nearly as big as Ivan, wearing polar bear fur and brandishing a long spear.
Keidran tried to run but were quickly cut off. The group of exiles was completely encircled by several hundred strong warriors from the different clans. Bjorn then noticed something odd in the moonlight. Between all the people that they captured, only a handful had anything more than a knife. Certainly no weapons of war, and plenty were half-naked and freezing.
“Where are your weapons?”
“What do you mean?” A tigress asked. “We have none.”
“Then what is this? Are you all trying to run away or something? You’ll freeze out here.” Bjorn bellowed. A young child then pushed his way to the front. It was Asher, the only basitin in the group. “W-we were kicked out, sir.”
“Kicked out?”
Ivan and Shadow came out from the crowd, quickly finding Asher. Shadow grabbed the boy and held onto him tight in case things went south. Ivan tried to reason with Bjorn, who was a bit intimidated by the wolf that was bigger than even him.
“Da. Jarl Tostig pushed us into the snow.”
“Explain.” Bjorn said, spear tip not lowering even slightly.
“What the big guy is trying to say is that Tostig found out there wasn’t enough supplies for everyone to last the winter, so he decided to get rid of every keidran in Callow. We’re exiles.”
This shocked Bjorn. He didn’t think anyone, not even a human, would do something so cutthroat. “Well, if you were hoping for our help, I’m sorry. But we don’t have supplies for everyone here. I can talk to my grandfather and perhaps the council will—”
“There are supplies across the river, if you’d let us go to Ditter’s Ridge we’ll stay out of the way of your siege. We certainly aren’t going to help Tostig after this.
“The big hill near Widow Lake? I thought that was just a bunch of mines.”
“It is, but apparently there are stores of supplies and shelter there.”
Ditter’s Ridge was still technically snow wolf lands, and the recent mining activity was part of why this whole situation was happening now. But these weren’t humans, clearly weren’t loyal to Tostig, and had no means to defending themselves anyway. After taking in the sight, he knew that they were speaking the truth, and that many wouldn’t make it more than a few days even in thick winter fur.
“Alright. We have no quarrel with you. I and a few others will lead you across the river. There’s a ford at Ridge Gate that’s shallow enough you all can cross without getting wet above the knees. We had better hurry though; another storm is coming.”
Shadow then walked up to Bjorn, noting that she was barely taller than his shoulder. “Thank you.” She said gratefully, extending a hand.
Bjorn looked down and felt his heart skip a beat. In a land of ice and snow, before him was a black-furred leopard, a keidran he had never seen before. He immediately reached out to shake her hand. “I am happy to help. Now, we had better get a move on.”
“Lead the way...” Shadow gestured as she grabbed Asher once again and made sure he walked closely beside her through the snow.
It was tough walking through the drifts. At one point, Shadow broke through a layer of hard snow into soft powder below. She sank up to her chest and was struggling to get out when a pair of snow shoes appeared in front of her. Looking up, she saw Bjorn extending his hand. In one swift motion, he lifted the leopard clean out of the snow and onto his snow shoes.
“Thank you.” Shadow said, stunned at how easy it was for the wolf.
“It was nothing.” He said, smile on his face.
In the early hours of dawn, the group of keidran spotted the Ridge Gate, a pair of towering bluffs the river cut through in order to make it to the sea. Soon, Shadow and Asher were some of the first to reach the shore of the river. Shadow picked up Asher and held him as she tried to cross, but the icy water stung on her skin. Bjorn then offered his help once again.
“Please, allow me.” He said as he picked Asher up and placed the boy on his shoulders. Before Shadow could continue into the river, he picked her up as well and held her under her back and knees.
“Oh... my…” Shadow said, looking up at Bjorn. “You really don’t have to.”
“I assume you aren’t from around these parts, considering the black fur.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, the river water is cold enough that you really don’t want to get wet if you can help it. So hold on tight, I’ll walk you across.”
It took a few minutes, but Shadow and Asher found themselves on dry ground. Without a word, Bjorn turned around and waded across the river again. It felt… odd… to be carried like that. But apparently the snow wolves were doing this for many of the keidran, especially the children. It took close to a half an hour before everyone was across, but by then it was a simple matter of climbing the ridge. At the top, Shadow and Asher felt the first rays of sun peaking above the horizon. It would fill the valley below for only a couple of hours before setting again.
“We’re getting close to the equinox.” Bjorn explained. “The sun will only break the horizon for an hour then, and it will get really cold.”
“Thank you again.” Shadow replied. “But I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Bjorn, ma’am.”
“Well, thank you Bjorn. I am Shadow and this here is Asher.”
“Glad to know you, Shadow. Now, where are these supplies you were talking about?”
“I’m guessing they are down there.” Shadow said as she pointed at what looked to be an abandoned mining camp. Once at the bottom of the ridge, the state of the camp was sad. Tents were blown down by the wind, a couple of the makeshift shacks were caved in from the heavy snow. But one large structure was locked up tight. Busting in the door with a log for a battering ram, the keidran found the first of many supplies. While the food was mostly for humans, and thus was a lot of flour and coffee, there was plenty of dried and salted meats. It wouldn’t be much, but with some careful rationing they’d all be able to make it through the winter.

Is there any other way to open the hatch trunk???
Bought my Integra 2 months ago and already having issues with the hatch/latch button that lets me lift the trunk open. Acura says the outer button's trim is broken causing the button to not sit flushed to press so it needs to be replaced...only with 2 month's use and less than 2k miles 🙄
Awaiting on the part (which is "backordered") to arrive in order for them to fix it.
The service advisor at the dealership didn't have the slightest clue when asked...I've looked everywhere. Pretty sure the service guys had to crawl in through the back seat to find the issue but there is no internal release button. I find it strange that there's no emergency release or some other way to open it manually with the key. Maybe I overlooked something somewhere...HELP? 🙏🏻

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The Reebok BB 4000 II (originally known as the BB 4000), was a basketball sneaker first introduced by the brand in the late ‘80s to help bring exposure to their disruptive “BB” series. The model made a name for itself due to its use of garment leather(featured on previous ‘80’s Reebok court shoes) that offered a stylish performance shoe for both on-court and off-court use. Last year Reebok decided to bring back the low top version of the Reebok BB 4000 II. Now, Reebok has also brought back the mid top version of the Reebok BB 4000 II. Now up for grabs, here’s an official look at the Reebok BB 4000 II White Maroon.
The Reebok BB 4000 II Mid features a three-quarter cup sole that reduced the weight of the outer sole, as well as a single-color cross stripe for teams looking to outfit their players in team colors. This colorway of the Reebok BB 4000 II Mid is given a White leather upper that is then contrasted by the Maroon accents spotted on the branding, mesh collar and a portion of the outsole. Other features include the Grey suede toe cap, the Grey leather on the ankle underlays and an aged/Off-White midsole.
An original Reebok advertisement reads: “On court or off, the Reebok Basketball 4000 Series is the people’s choice. All-purpose court shoes designed with comfort and cushioning in mind. Extremely stylish shoes at very attractive prices.”
Retailing for $100, the Reebok BB 4000 II Mid White Maroon is now available at select retailers and directly from Reebok.com.
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Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your goddamn heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.

Basically I (f23) have lived in south Texas all my life and have no clue how much I should expect to spend on groceries here. I went to look at apartments for two days and got one in the corktown area about a three minute drive from my school. With my crazy tuition I am not looking to spend too much on groceries and I am fine with not eating out and only cooking. I would say I am fine with struggle meals but as I will be in professional school I do not want my health to deteriorate TOO much, a bit is fine.
Aside from groceries, I have already acquired a set of all terrain tires and will be getting something called a snow brush from amazon. I still get long sleeve under garments and gloves. I start in August and any insight would be appreciated- grocery related or not!

Heya! I love variety cryptic puzzles and since it's June I was wondering if people knew of variety cryptic with any LGBTQ / Pride themes? Some examples of what I'm talking about to get things started!
I mostly do American cryptics but I'm happy to try other countries' cryptics too!

"Positioning" by Gregg Katz (Queer Qrosswords 2 — suggested $10+ donation to an LGBTQ+ charity for the packet)

In this variety cryptic, Across answers can be tops, bottoms, or versatile. Eight top answers give up a letter to one of eight bottom answers, each becoming a new word before being entered in the grid. (Two pairs of tops and bottoms are nonmonogamous, and exchange the same letter.) Six versatile answers trade one letter with another versatile answer to form new words prior to entry. The unclued entry at 20-Across will reveal your role in all this. Across enumerations are withheld. Clued answers may include proper nouns, and modified entries include one proper noun. Down clues are entered normally.

"LGBTQIA+" by Francis Heaney (AVCX Cryptic — $1.00):

Happy Pride! The clues and entries in this puzzle are nonconformists in many ways:
1) Across clues are not numbered; you must determine their grid locations. (They are ordered alphabetically by answer.) Each Across clue also has an extraneous letter that must be removed before solving (not necessarily leaving a new word, and possibly requiring words to be respaced); the removed letter will correspond to the color of the flag stripe in which its answer is located (R, O, Y, G, B, or V). Down clues are numbered normally.
2) All but 12 answers, Across and Down, must have a letter added (either L, G, B, T, Q, I, or A) before being entered into the grid to make a new word or phrase; we’ll refer to these answers as LGBTQIA+. The remaining 12 answers are entered normally with no modifications. Enumerations are withheld. Tags apply to answers but not necessarily to grid entries.
3) The crossing letters of six Across and six Down LGBTQIA+ entries do not match; replace those letters with 2- or 3-letter strings to make new words in both directions. (Since the mismatched letters are unchecked, as an aid in confirmation, they can be anagrammed to LEAGUE ABODES.)
4) Every clue contains an extra definition (either a word or phrase) that must be removed before solving; in the case of LGBTQIA+ answers, the extra word or phrase defines the modified grid entry. In the 12 clues with unmodified answers, the extra word or phrase defines one of the new words made after following instruction 3; you must determine which.
5) When the grid is complete, read the added 2- and 3-letter strings from left to right to reveal something important to both crosswords and LGBTQIA+ activism.

"Coming Out" by Brad LeBeau (The Griddle — Free)

In this variety cryptic, the answers are entered as usual. However, each clue has a queer letter that needs to come out (i.e. be removed) before the clue can be solved. These letters, read in clue order, reveal a message that’s important for Pride Month (or any month!).

"Tag Yourself!" by Amanda Rafkin, David Gold, and Finn Vigeland (avid puzzler — Free)

In this alignment chart of a cryptic, Down entries (for which enumerations are withheld) must be modified, always forming new words or names before grid entry. Gay entries (columns 1-3) “walk fast,” and need to have a letter advanced one place in the alphabet (ex. BOMER > BONER). Bi entries (columns 4-6) “tuck their shirts in,” moving their first letter somewhere else in the word (ex. ACME > CAME). Lesbian entries (columns 7-9) “call a U-Haul,” gaining or losing a U somewhere in the word (ex. LUTE <-> LTE).

Thanks for any suggestions for puzzles to look into!

So this is a weird crazy story/summary of life this far. I (28M) feel like I have been living my life with an absurd amount of masking. I set out on a spiritual awakening journey when I was 18 and started college, the first time I had ever been truly alone and truly started feeling that deep sense of loneliness. Which is what kicked in my spiritual awakening, by asking questions about who I was, why was I here and why did I have such a deep unexplainable yearning for "home" which was not "physically" attainable. Not a yearning for home in the sense of being with my family, but a deep, deep cry out from what I felt was my soul essence.
Fast forward through some heavy years of partying, clubbing/going to shows, drugs and alcohol. At 23, I met who is now my wife and the mother of my/our amazing daughter and through the 5 years we've been going through this human experience together, we both got a lot deeper and a lot more "serious" about expanding and opening up our spiritual bodies. We were kind of forced into delving DEEP into it because our first true "interactions/dates" were so deeply rooted in spirit that we (very fortunately) discovered/realized that we are cut off the same soul cloth and are infact soulmates/twin flames or whatever floats your boat for descriptions regarding life partners.
We have learned and discovered a lot about ourselves as well as a newly found perception of the outter world (largely influenced emotionally, spiritually, mentally by Ram Dass, Jack Kornfield, Dale RamDev. . . Spiritual Adepts/teachers, guides etc.) This absolutely transformed a lot of our inner and outer world (through disciplined routines and practices) for the better in a very beautiful way. Then in 2021 we moved to Idaho on an instinctual as well as an impulse decsion to be closer to my wife's side of the family out there, and our intuitive feeling of needing to go to the northwest part of the country. When we got there we were almost instantly met with extreme adversity and complications with my wife's health, our marriage, and life as a whole. So needless to say it was not the "change" we had in mind. Though we now see it all as the change/step that was necessary for self discovery and growth personally, together and as a while family unit. In late 2021 I was waiting for an orientation class for a new job and had to wait until the next class (2 weeks out) so while waiting two weeks, we needed money to eat and keep life running so I decided since I had a drill and basic tools I'd to do some side work/odd jobs (honey do list kind of things) to bring in whatever cash I could. This ended up blowing up in a beautiful way and I ended up quitting that new job on orientation day to set off and fully jump into the possible opportunity of working for myself. Now almost 2 years later and I'm still doing my own thing (bathroom remodels, tile, carpentry and flooring) and it's been amazing.
We also recently moved back home to Colorado and since we've been back it's been a struggle for a miriad of reasons, but the one struggle that I've found myself dealing with the most and is the heaviest emotion, is my own personal sense of validation. I actually just (today) realized that I have been chasing external validation for as long as I can remember (about 3-4 years old) While thinking about the current slump that I'm in I started thinking about what makes me "feel okay/feel like me" and most of those things are (now) related to my work. Building things for people, fixing things, repairs, custom furniture, etc. And then being validated by a "good job, we are so happy!" Kind of thing from my clients. Thinking further back before this and it's all been an ongoing search for validation through my external world. My party phase, the validation came from my knowledge of drugs, artists, previous party stories and a whole bunch of unhealthy methods and vices. Before that, through the beginnings of highschool getting into heavy drug use (psychedelics, weed and cocaine/stimulants) and partying I was a hardcore WoW gamer (big time raider in a progressive guild that sought to be the best in the game) and always sought out to be the best in my guild (for whatever role character I was playing). Seeking validation through being the best gamer. Before that I was obsessed with skateboarding, from age 9-16 or 17 I would strive to be the best skater in my school, at the skate park (within reason) and from my parents. I was small town sponsored (nothing really fancy, just discounted apparel/gear and occasionally a free board) And before that, but also mixed in through the years until about 20, I was huge on drawing mythical/fantasy creatures and characters and was pretty damn good. But looking back at all the "phase of interest transitions" I see one common goal. External validation through an attempt to prove myself in an outward expression/skill.
I was also looking back at the overall "emotional neglect" that I got from my parents (mom and step dad, bio dad left the picture when I was about 1, 1/2 ) And not to say that they were absolute assholes or anything like that, but they were very young (I was 2 and my mom was 18 when she met my step dad) and learning life for themselves. So I know that they didn't "intentionally" emotionally neglect me or invalidate me. But I wasn't good at the things they wanted me to do (playing tee ball/baseball as a toddleyoung kid) because my step dad was a huge baseball guy. And because I wasn't into or good at the things they wanted to see me do, I found my own interests, independently and amongst my friend group. However this caused parental tension because I was (in their eyes) becoming a hoodlum. Never got the acknowledgement or 'parental praise and proudness' from skating, drawing, playing WoW (step dad played too), obviously not for partying and doing drugs, but not even now. Not even as a 28 year old married man running my own business and father to a beautiful 3 year old daughter. Most of my side of the family disagrees with "entrepreneurship/self employment" because it isn't as "stable" as a corporate box job. - According to them, even though they've all been laid off at some point or another from corporations that are "never going anywhere, we have job security for life".
Sorry, tangent rants aside! I am now facing an immense amount of emotional pain/flashbacks for the lack of validation I have within myself. I am able to see and recognize the immense amount of growth I've undergone and the fact that I didn't die from drugs and partying and pushed through all of that to get where I am now. And I see that I have a shit ton to validate my own worth, I understand the growth that I've undergone and will continue to go through, but I absolutely struggle with giving myself credit, feeling okay with where I am. I can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough and always feel like there is something to do.
This morning I recognized that as an issue of control, and when I don't have the ability to control my volume/standard of output with "things to show" whether it be through work, hobby projects or anything else where I can do/build/repair something for someone. I get extremely depressed. And only really feel 'okay' when I'm doing things. I see this as a trauma wound that has deepend through my years and has gone essentially completely unacknowledged within myself. Until our TRUE spiritual journey began 5 years ago. I do not want to be mentally controlled or enslaved to the inner ego narrative that I'm not doing enough, but I have no idea how to truly accept myself. Accept who I was, who I am and who I'm becoming. I feel like I've just gotten so good at distracting myself by staying busy and constantly seeking validation through helping others that I have no idea who I actually am. I feel like I've been living the biggest lie ever and I've deceived everyone in my life but mostly myself. When I truly sit and think about what I truly enjoy for myself, I can't think of anything. Aside from the cliche of 'being with my family' (wife and daughter) which does truly bring me happiness. But I can't live in or hold on to "those moments" forever. And outside of them, or doing something for someone to give me that pat on the back, I do not have a damn clue who I am.
And I know that who I am is a culmination of everything I've done and am becoming. But that's still only validated through the external. And I know ram Dass would tell me to just let go and release the inner narrative to what is and just be in/of loving awareness. But, he too struggled with identity. Struggled with feeling like a phony and seeking external validation through experiences or services.
So if you made it this far, and have either evolved passed this state/level of emotional consciousness and awareness or you too are feeling the same. I'd love some tips, tricks suggestions or anything for how to help get through this obstacle of the human experience.
And because it was pretty long, and I jump around in here, if there's anything anyone wants further detail or clarification on, I'd be more than happy to attempt to fumble a rambling story again.

I don't want to just leave with a negative review.. I probably won't even make a review, since there is a chance the devs could turn it around, and I don't want a negative review to sit there when they don't deserve it, but I do want to give feedback on why I honestly am done with this game.
​
1) Cheaters:
I barely get to play this game. Apart from my first introduction to cheaters on this game, by someone who was chasing me around, and calling me by my computers Name, which honestly scared me tot he point I didn't play for weeks after that.. I decided to finally try to give it another go.
Today was my last straw.. There are only 300 people on, and I swear half of them have to be cheaters.. Playing on NA server too.. Spawn in, and immediately get a breach warning, then shot behind my back..
okay, just 1, its whatever, immediately Q up again.. I go into the Frigate ship to kill 3 Marines.. There's some fighting near me, both were shooting down a hallway, and I couldn't really go forward and didn't want to wait it out, so I went back to switch docking ports. The moment I dock, and start opening the outer hatch, I hear movement. Okay fair enough, someone is still near the docking port..
I hide behind the crates inside the airlock, see a grenade thrown in front, no problem wait behind the crates.. it explodes, and.. I get shot from behind 3-4 times in the body, and die.... Clear cheater. There is no way someone got behind me, in the airlock.. That or he's shooting through walls. That's where I finally said i'm done with the game. -------------
​
2) Unclear Mission Objectives.
​
You want me to find a forklift, cool.. That's no problem.. but... the instructions are not very clear.. Where is it? Where in the facility is it? Give me some kind of landmarks to look for. I don't need a big "It's right here" icon, but at least something that gives me some form of direction or landmark to look for while I'm exploring, without just randomly stumbling upon it.
​
3) Random quests are frustrating, and confusing.
The random quests you get from factions are confusing, and frustrating as well.. There is no 3rd party website to get help for half of these, and its completely random, and the info box again is completely unhelpful in trying to find who, or what I'm supposed to kill, or where it is. Like Kill SAS.. Okay cool.. but what do they look like? Who am I hunting? Clothes to look for, etc. would be nice. Because going through a raid, killing 6 NPCs, and players, and I find I killed 1 SAS, and I have no clue who he was..
Like-wise, new players would benefit from the "destroy radar". Ones that easier to accomplish, yet I've not once got "Destroy mines" or "Destroy radar" quest, except once, and that was an immediate breach cheater.
I'm still on virtually level 0 for all the factions despite playing on and off for a few weeks whenever I get the time, because I quite frankly just gave up trying to figure out where that crap is, or for maps with multiple POIs, which one is where I need, and what I'm looking for.
​
Honestly if just these top 3 things were fixed, and cheaters brought under control a bit better, I'd honestly come back.
​
4) Stash is just a TINY bit too small. Imo.
I'm not asking for tons of space here.. Maybe like 1-2 more rows even is all I'm asking for. At the moment my stash is completely full, with backpacks etc. filled with stuff. Ammo, med supplies, and crafting supplies, with a few weapons. That completely fills it entirely.
​
The problem is, weapons take up a massive amount of space. As do some of the crafting supplies, and meds. It would be nice to be able to have the room I have now, be able to load up on 4-5 raids worth of equipment if stuff goes south, and still be able to actually remove loot from my backpack. and sell it.
Quite honestly if we could sell to markets from our gear page, or from the backpack we're wearing, I wouldn't even be complining about the inventory space, as right now it is an okay amount for gear for a few raids, meds, food, and ammo and crafting supplies.
However, I have no room for armor, etc. Which just feels terrible, especially since there is no real way to increase this storage space at all until I prestige. Helmets, and armor take up so much space, you can't hold even 2 loadouts, for a few bad runs.
I do understand these games are about deciding what to keep, what to get rid, and inventory management is part of the game, but right now, due to how long it takes to actually upgrade the stash, it's just a little too limiting again, by maybe 1-2 rows.

English: cloak

1. a loose outer garment, extending from the neck downwards, and commonly without sleeves. it is longer than a cape, and is worn both by men and by women
   
2. a disguise or pretext
   
3. an excuse; a fair pretense
   

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Translations

• Catalan: capa
  
• Chinese: 斗篷
  
• Esperanto: mantelo
  
• French: cape, (v) cacher, dissimuler, .masquer
  
• German: Mantel, Umhang
  
• Hindi: आड़
  
• Italian: mantello
  
• Portuguese: capa
  
• Spanish: capa, manto, capote
  
• Swedish: mantel
  
• Welsh: cochli
  

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"I understand your plight, but unfortunately, I have my own circumstances I need to attend to," Salvanius said, leaning back in his chair. "Therefore, I'm unable to provide any transportation to Aldenshor."
Elijah had his hand covering his eyes while his elbow rested on Salvanius' desk. "I don't get it, the magical tool YOU were going to receive was stolen too," he said, looking up at the Demigod with an exhausted expression.
Having spent the better half of an hour negotiating with Salvanius, Elijah and his crew were beginning to reach the end of their patience. Each and every attempt to convince ‘his grace’ to chase after the thieves were met with half hearted excuses or flat out denials. It got to the point where Elijah glanced over to Theodius and seriously considered just taking him hostage in order to force a pursuit.
“That may be, but my duties dictate that I focus my attention elsewhere.” Salvanius replied, staring intensely at the mortal across from him. “And as much as it pains me, I cannot afford to turn around and delay my mission.”
Dragging his hand across his face, Elijah let out an exasperated sigh and asked, "Let me guess, the magical tool that I still currently hold on to will greatly enable you to complete your mission and thus, you can free up one of your ships..." He knew the game that was being played, and to be honest, he was surprised at just how shrewd this Holy Man actually was.
A smile spread across Salvanius’ face, elated at Elijah’s perceptiveness. "Indeed," he admitted. "The tool you possess is invaluable to my cause, but are you sure you’re allowed to make this decision and not your master?" He asked, looking at the fairy happily eating a biscuit on the desk.
Yana had been completely ignoring the exchange, her focus solely on the delightful treat she was consuming. Realizing the focus had turned to her, she perked up and waved her hand dismissively. "Ya, whatever, he can handle it," she said nonchalantly, going back to chomping away.
Salvanius clapped his hands together with a large smile spread across his face. "Very well," he said, turning his attention back to Elijah. "If that’s her decision, then I shall accept your gracious gift.” He said, leaning forward.
Elijah began tapping on the desk in one second intervals as he glared daggers at the Demigod in front of him. His eyes scanned the room, eventually settling on Theodius, who wore a goofy expression and shifted excitedly in place. For a brief moment, Elijah considered the idea of taking the oddball hostage, thinking it might be less painful than losing his potentially only bioscanner.
But, that thought was quickly dismissed as his gaze shifted to Rhea.
Shame consumed Rhea as she stared at the ground, her face etched with a painful look. The realization that her Liege was extorting the very people who had done nothing but help them weighed heavily on her conscience. Glancing up, Rhea noticed Elijah’s impassive gaze rested on her and for a moment, she wanted to voice her deepest apologies, but the foreign man just shook his head and turned back to Salvanius to continue their negotiations.
“... I have terms.” Elijah said, knocking his knuckles against the table.
Salvanius narrowed his eyes, “You have… Terms? Do you really think you’re in a position to dictate terms?” He asked incredulously.
Still wearing his impassive look, Elijah clenched his jaw and leaned back in his chair. "I wouldn't call it dictating terms. You’re more than free to refuse." He replied.
A rapturous laughter left Salvanius' lips as the man slapped the desk in front of him, the sound echoing in the room. "Well, you certainly have gall," Salvanius said, his expression shifting to a scowl. "But you should also remember whose presence you’re in." He growled as his hands dug into the table.
Pressing the tips of his fingers together, Elijah leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk and kept his same impassive expression. “And you should remember who understands this magical tool.” he said in a bored tone.. “Because I can guarantee you that you’ll never get it to work without my help and the cost of this tool… is significantly higher." The words were sharp, but his tone was even and controlled.
A loud crunch rang out as Salvanius glared daggers at Elijah with an enraged face. “And if I just kill you all and take the tool for myself," he snarled
Elijah didn't flinch; he maintained his calm composure, despite the literally God just across from him that seemed to be fuming. "You could," he admitted coolly, "but then you’d have a useless rock with no hopes of activating it.”
Salvanius ground his teeth, visibly struggling to control his temper. He couldn’t deny that there was a strong possibility that the mortal in front of him may be telling the truth, but his pride made it difficult to accept. The strange device used no magic he had ever seen before and functioned in a way that was completely alien to him.
“Surely my scholars and Artificiers would eventually figure it out," The Demigod argued, attempting to regain some control over the situation.
Both Elijah and Bennett looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter that had them clutching their sides. The mere thought of a bunch of primitives who didn’t even have plumbing would somehow figure out optical computing was simply too hilarious to entertain.
Managing to regain his composure enough to form a coherent sentence, Elijah wiped a tear from his eye and looked at the shocked Demigod. "Oh, trust me," he said, still chuckling, "your ‘scholars’ would be stumped for centuries, if not several millennia! Hell, I doubt they’ll ever figure it out in their lifetime!"
Bennett elbowed Elijah’s side, “I would be surprised if they managed to make an abacus let alone figure out what a logic gate was!” He added into the joke causing another round of laughter.
With pride wounded by the laughter, Salvanius couldn’t help but glower at the two mortals mocking him. Never in his life had anyone DARED mock him let alone insult him to such a degree and lived. A snap rang out as Salvanius' fingers dug through the table and squeezed into a tight fist, but just as he was about to order Rhea to kill them, the woman already had her weapon drawn.
However, he soon noticed the woman was not defending his honor, but the angry looking Vanir that somehow materialized in front of his face. One second she was happily munching away at a biscuit on the desk and the next she was floating in front of him glaring at him viciously with glowing violet eyes.
“Nuh-uh!” Yana shouted as she stuck her finger out at Salvanius'. “Don’t even try it you idiot!”
Salvanius hesitated, his rage momentarily dampened by a very primal fear that he’s never felt before. Something about this legendary creature caused his instincts to scream that he was underestimating the tiny thing and he would deeply regret any errant moves. Closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath, Salvanius composed himself to cover up the brief moment of weakness. "You have no right to address me in such a manner, Vanir." He opened his eyes and glared at Yana, his voice full of authority. “Nevertheless, in light of your contributions, I shall overlook this insult.”
Yana narrowed her eyes and held Salvanius' gaze for a few more seconds before letting out a harrumph. “No funny business, whelpling! They’re MINE and MINE alone!” She barked before floating off, muttering more insults as she returned to enjoying her treat.
Seeing Salvsnius' his hand dismissively towards her, Rhea slowly sheathed her sword but still maintained her vigilance towards the small being on the desk. Whatever the thing had done had put everyone save for the two beastkins on edge. Even her liege had second guessed lashing out against an obvious insult in the face of… whatever that thing was.
Elijah finally settled down and pulled out his datapad. "I suppose a bit of honesty is in order here." The man said with a mocking smile on his face as the device flashed to life. “It’s not magic.”
As Salvanius looked down at the display, his rage began to simmer down, and a mixture of awe and disbelief crossed his face. With just a few taps and strokes of the mortal's fingertips, the magical tool revealed astonishing moving images so detailed he couldn’t distinguish it from reality. In addition, an ethereal melody accompanied the moving images. A harmonious blend of sounds that seemed to emanate from the device itself that left everyone in the room completely speechless and spell bound by mesmerizing audio-visual experience.
“Magnificent…” Salvanius muttered.
Never in his life had he been treated to such an exquisite experience.
"Its structure and functionality are so far beyond you or anyone else's understanding in this god forsaken world, that no matter who you gave it to or where you went, you’ll never get it to work if we don’t want it to work.” Bennett explained with a bored expression.
Salvanius remained quiet as he stared at the device as it showed an individual singing and dancing through the streets of a metropolis so grand that it boggled his mind. Buildings made of glass and iron seemed to pierce the heavens themselves, bathed in a perpetual glow of colorful light. And the people themselves… What they wore was unlike anything he had ever seen, but he soon noticed the similarities to the garments the two mortals in front of him were wearing.
“You’re… You’re lying.” He said in complete denial.
Elijah scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “By all means, take the scanner and have your people look into it.” He said with a coy smile on his face. “After you accept our terms of course.”
Even though his pride and anger were still simmering beneath the surface, Salvanius still hesitated as he continued to stare at the mesmerizing display. It was then he remembered that his brother had initially told him that he should tread carefully around these mortals. They wielded knowledge and intellect like the sharpest of blades and one misstep could lead to disastrous consequences.
Of course Salvanius waved off his brother's wisdom as another mindless ramble from a new fixation, but now he found himself stuck. Looking between Vanir happily eating on his desk and the two mortals were completely unphased by his presence, Salvanius realized he had quite literally stuck his hand into a dark pit of vipers.
“And what are your terms…?” The Demigod said in a low voice, full of frustration.
An angry snarl formed on Elijah's face as he leaned and jabbed a finger into the desk. “You help me get my stuff back, and I’ll show that you can do a lot more than find ‘miasma’ with my scanner.” He said, with his eyes burning in hatred. “I’ll even introduce you to the wonderful world of antibiotics.”
Salvanius had absolutely no clue what they were talking about, but he still understood what they were offering must have been substantial. Especially considering his brother behind him was sweating bullets in an effort to maintain his neutral stance and expression.
However, from everything he had learned today, there was one question burning in Salvanius' mind. "What are you…?" he asked, eyeing the two with suspicion and curiosity.
Even Azeline, who had been sitting at the back with an unsurprised and detached demeanor, suddenly perked up and started paying closer attention to the conversation as Elijah and Bennett exchanged meaningful glances.
“We’re Humans.”

• ​

Flipping open the flap of the tent, Salvanius stepped outside and beckoned Elijah and his crew to follow. “I cannot task a ship of war to you at the current moment,” he said as the group walked through a maze of pyres and gallows. “Although, tomorrow I plan on Rhea to make a return trip to our homeland in order to update my father on the spread of corruption, and Aldenshor just so happens to be on the way.”
“And we can hitch a ride with him?” Elijah inquired, his interest piqued.
Salvanius nodded as his head turned to one of his Junior Knights that had a troubled look on their face. “That’s correct, and I’ll also have Rhea, empowered with my authority, accompany you.” He said, narrowing his eyes at the Knight. The man was overseeing a contingent of town guards as they corralled a group of Ferfolk slaves and a female Beastkin near the end of the dock. “She’ll be returning to the Holy Dominion as well in order to raise another Crusade and hunt down both your items, and the Kraven thugs that orchestrated the theft.”
Just as he finished, the Demigod marched over to the scene and loomed just behind the unwitting knight as looked over the terrified group to deliberate their fate. “Are you sure there’s no evidence to corroborate whether they’re heretics or assisting heretics?” The Junior Knight asked, looking over at the beastkin guard.
“Ah… No me lord. We were only able to find the bodies of some gang-I mean heretics that were slain by uhh, yer guests in their establishment.” he guard responded, stammering slightly under the pressure.
The Junior Knight frowned, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Then we cannot simply assume their guilt. There must be a proper investigation to determine their involvement, if any."
"Sir Elic, I understand your concerns,” Salvanius, overhearing the conversation, stepped in. “but we cannot afford to let any potential heretic slip through our fingers." He said looking over at the terrified group of girls. “The likeliness of whores to be in leagues with these fiends are too great, just hang them and be done with it.”
An aghast look spread across the faces of the women as they all simultaneously started screaming and pleading for mercy, tears streaming down their faces. The gut-wrenching sobs and desperate cries filled the air, creating an atmosphere of utter despair.
Sir Elic was clearly troubled by Salvanius' order, but didn’t hesitate. "Yes, right away your grace!" He said, nodding at the town guards.
The guards begrudgingly began to move forward, their faces a mix of unease and determination. As they approached the women, their hands shook slightly, betraying their own reservations about the task at hand.
Elijah, who had been observing the situation, stood there with a frown on his face as he watched Mara and the Ferfolk women be dragged towards the makeshift gallows. He closed his eyes for a moment and turned his thoughts inwards as the guards forcibly wrapped ropes around their necks. "Wait," he interjected with a calm, but firm voice.
All eyes turned to Elijah, and the guards hesitated in their actions. Salvanius raised a questioning eyebrow, clearly irritated by the interruption. "What is it now?" he demanded, his tone impatient.
“I can vouch for them.” Elijah said, opening his eyes and looking towards the Demigod.
Salvanius' expression shifted from annoyance to curiosity. "You vouch for… whores?" he asked, studying the ‘Humans’ as if he was growing an extra head.
"Yes," Elijah replied, maintaining eye contact. "They helped us a lot and made us feel at home when we first got here." He said confidently. “And as a stranger in a strange land, I find that’s worth a great deal.”
Silence reigned as Salvanius' gaze flicked back to the women, who were still trembling with fear, before looking back at Elijah in agitation. A hand came to his head in an effort to soothe his growing headache, and sighed in resignation. "I don’t have time for this… Very well.” And with a wave of his hand, the guards began to remove the ropes from the women’s necks.
Once freed, the group of women breathed a collective sigh of relief. Mara looked at Elijah with a mixture of gratitude and pain as she slowly made her way over to the man. “I… I… I’m so-”
Elijah put a hand to stop her. “Just say thank you.” He said in an annoyed fashion, with his arms crossed.
Mara hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a tearful smile. "Thank ye..," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank ye for everything.”
The Ferfolk, still visibly shaken, managed to express their gratitude with soft murmurs of thanks as they bowed their heads in deference towards their savior. Their eyes conveyed a mix of relief, fear, and newfound admiration for the man who had intervened on their behalf.
“Your dick is going to get you killed one day.” Bennett said impassively as he stared at the gaggle of women being escorted out of the hellscape.
“Shut the fuck up.” Elijah responded in annoyance.
Turning towards the Demigod, he refocused his attention on the matter at hand. "So when will we be joining Rhea on her trip back to the Holy Dominion?" he asked, wanting more details.
Salvanius stared long and hard at Elijah in an effort to figure him out, but realizing that was a fruitless endeavor. "Tomorrow at dawn.” He answered, shaking his head. ”We still need to prepare provisions and the crew for departure.”
"Understood," Elijah replied, acknowledging the tight schedule. "But can we spend the night on the ship? I’d rather leave as soon as possible,” he inquired, his eyes showing a sense of urgency.
Considering the request for a moment, Salvanius weighed the risks of any potential risks or complications before ultimately nodding in agreement. "Very well. You and your crew may stay on board tonight. I'll inform Rhea of the arrangement."
"Thank you," Elijah said gratefully.
The thought of having to go back to the tavern after everything that had happened made him feel incredibly uncomfortable, and he’d just rather not deal with it. By staying on the ship, he could at least avoid a terribly awkward situation and focus on getting out of here as soon as possible.
With a nod, Salvanius spun on his heel and strode away, his cape billowing behind him as he went to oversee the inquisition's work.
Rhea however, lingered as her gaze rested firmly on the Vanir that was taking in the scenery around her with a disturbing glee. Catching the Knight Captain's gaze, Yana swiftly darted toward her at incredible speed. Rhea instinctively flinched, expecting to be hit, but found that the small being had stopped just inches from her face. Yana appeared to be examining her intently, her curious violet eyes studying every detail of Rhea's features.
The knight captain seemed just as curious, but saw the Vanir's hand stretch out in an attempt to touch her face when a voice called out. “Yana! Dont.” Elijah barked out in a scolding tone.
Yana froze in place, her hand just a millimeter away when she turned around with a scornful look. "But she smells so familiar!" she protested, her eyes darting between Rhea and Elijah, her curiosity unabated.
"What did I say about messing with people I like?" Elijah admonished, raising an eyebrow at the tiny Vanir.
Giving the Knight Captain a derisive look, Yana finally relented and slowly floated over to Elijah. She landed squarely on his head with a scowl on her face, clearly unhappy about having curiosity unquenched. Rhea, on the other hand, finally let go of the breath she didn’t know that she was holding before spinning around herself and making off to catch up with her Liege.
Heaving a sigh, Elijah turned around to look back at his crew. "Alright... Let's go get our shit and go do whatever, I guess," he said, rubbing his head.
“Ya, you can have fun with that, I’m going back to the magic shop.” Bennett replied, immediately walking off in the direction of the city center
Elijah raised his hand in order to stop Bennett, but ultimately stopped in the realization that anything he said or did would have fallen on deaf ears. Instead, Elijah simply grumbled obscenities as he turned to Azeline. "Come on, let's go get our stuff and go find Auri," he said with defeat evident in his voice.
​
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