Hotels near wall township nj
2008.04.13 15:10 New Jersey
A place to share news, links, photos, discussions, recipes, pet photos, breakfast food, correspondence, love letters, and advice about the great state of New Jersey.
2011.06.09 03:29 o_Oskar Professional eSports in a Bar
----- *"For fans, watching in bars fulfills their desire to share the love of a game that many watched at home alone before. Fans organize so-called Barcraft events, taking over pubs and bistros from Honolulu to Florida and switching big-screen TV sets to Internet broadcasts of professional game matches happening often thousands of miles away."* - [The Wall Street Journal](http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111904070604576516462736084234.html) ----
2023.06.05 07:43 Polaris328 Queen and Prince All Your Heart
The Northstar, Titan's Orbit
Polaris, in the middle of a much-needed nap at his desk, looked up in a daze as his computer beeped, alerting him of an incoming call. He shook himself awake before answering. "Hello?" he said groggily.
"Hey, Old Light. Sounds like I woke you up," Crow's voice replied Polaris could practically hear his protege's smirk. "Everything alright?"
"Just peachy." Polaris rubbed his eyes. "What's up, Crow?"
"Not much. I was at the Farm this morning and Queen Mara asked for you. I've been trying to reach you all day."
"Yeah, I've been, uh..." Polaris recalled everything he'd done in the past twelve hours: sleeping, eating ice cream, crying, trying to get some overdue mission reports done, then getting bored and sleeping again. "Very busy."
Crow chuckled. "I'm sure. Well, whenever you're free, drop by the Farm. Mara's waiting."
"I'll be right there. Seeya around, kiddo." Polaris ended the call and yawned loudly before getting up and changing into his typically pristine armor, though it found itself in a sorry state tonight. He pushed the button on his intercom and relayed his instructions to the vessel's pilot: "Set a course for the EDZ on Earth. Got business at the Farm."
"Expecting a fight?" Daedalus asked, orbiting his Guardian curiously. "Farm's pretty safe."
"No, but can't be too careful with Mara. She might have some kind of special assignment for me or something. There's always another one, no matter how many I have stacked up," Polaris grumbled, adjusting his cloak as the Northstar descended toward the Farm. It was as quiet as it had been ever since the team's mission of retribution against the Shadow Legion following Amanda Holliday's death. Some civilians of various species going about their business here and there, but no notable operations anymore.
Queen Mara Sov, sitting alone aside from one horse in the Farm's stables, glanced skyward as she heard the approaching roar of the Northstar's engines. Before long, Polaris made his way to her location. "It's been some time, Young Wolf," she said, stroking the horse's mane.
Polaris's face immediately scrunched up. "Still hate that name. I see you've met Gorilla."
Mara frowned. "...Gorilla?"
"The horse. His name's Gorilla. He's a hero, y'know."
"What exactly did... Gorilla do that was so heroic?"
Polaris chuckled. "Back in the Red War, during the mission to retake the Last City, the assault teams had to approach the City in a way that the Cabal wouldn't notice. So their ships dropped them out near Twilight Gap, and they made the rest of the journey on foot. But to make sure everything was clear along the way, they had a trio of scouts go ahead on horseback. Gorilla was one of those horses- along with his brothers, Elmer and Krazy, may they rest in peace. Without him, the assault team may have been ambushed along the walk to the City by Cabal forces. But thankfully Gorilla and his brothers were there to help." He walked over to Gorilla and scratched behind his ear. "He's been living here ever since."
"And what of his brothers? Elmer and Crazy?" Mara asked. "From what you've said, I assume they are dead."
"Krazy. With a K. But yeah. Krazy was killed by a Cabal sniper near the City's outer walls. He and his rider happened to be spotted while they were scouting ahead, and, well... a horse is a bigger target than a Guardian. As for Elmer, he was caught in an explosion during the battle. He survived it, but his injuries were severe enough that he had to be put to sleep, rather than letting him suffer for his natural lifespan. So Gorilla's the only one left. But he's been handling it well. Haven't you, boy?" Polaris smiled up at the horse, who gave a happy neigh in response. "So. What did you need? Crow said you wanted to talk to me."
Mara nodded, sitting down on a wooden bench. "I did. But I do not have a mission for you if that is what you expected."
Polaris took a seat next to the Queen. "Then what's up?"
"I simply wished to speak with you."
Polaris narrowed his eyes. "To what end? You don't do anything without a purpose."
Mara looked away from the Guardian. "Amanda Holliday's death has weighed heavy on all who knew her. As I said then, I have lived for eons. I have seen countless deaths. They still hurt, but it has become... easier for me, than for most. But it will never be easier to stomach how it affects those I care for."
Polaris swallowed a retort that probably wouldn't have gone over well, instead choosing to stare at the stable floor.
"That includes you, Polaris." Mara looked back at him. "So, if you insist that I must have a purpose, then my only purpose is this: I am concerned for you. Your shoulders have borne more weight than any of your peers in much less time than most. I can see it in your face- you are beyond exhausted. I know you do not see me as a friend, but if you have anything you wish to speak of, I will be here to listen."
Polaris covered his face with his hands for a brief moment. "Where do I even start?" He met Mara's eyes.
"Wherever you wish." Mara reached over and took hold of Polaris's hand. "I was speaking with Elisabeth Bray once when she said something similar to me. Then she remembered something. A wise Hunter once told her, 'The beginning is usually a pretty good place.'"
Polaris's slack fingers closed around Mara's hand as a hint of a smile crept onto his lips. He shifted to be a little closer to her. "Using my own words against me. Devious, Your Grace. Very devious. Well. As you might remember, my friend Hecate went Dark a while back. She was a fugitive for a long time. Then, right after the Traveler ascended, she came to find me. She told me she wanted to come back to the City. Rejoin the Vanguard. I was all for it. She's doing great, but I can see the pain in her eyes whenever I see her. And I just don't know how to help. On top of that, Aunor and I... we're done. Again. For good this time."
"How did it happen?" Mara asked. "Another fight?"
"No. It was much more peaceful. We've barely seen each other recently. Been so busy with our own work that we... don't have time for each other anymore. But right before Titan reappeared, she and I finally got to be with each other again. First time we've been face to face in months. In the morning, she said we needed to talk. She basically told me we were too big of a distraction for each other. Even when we're apart, if we're involved with each other, we'd only be dividing our focus away from... 'what really matters,' in her words. Can't say I'm surprised- she's always put duty first- but to hear it spelled out like that didn't feel amazing. But I gotta admit... she's got a point."
Mara nodded slowly. "People like ourselves... we must always put the mission before our personal desires." She watched as Polaris's already somber expression saddened. "But that does not mean we must stifle our love for those around us. Amanda knew this, and she loved with all her heart."
"Cayde knew it too. But I guess it's a lesson some of us still have to learn, huh?" Polaris looked back at the Queen with a small smirk. "Not naming names, though."
A brief chuckle escaped from Mara before she caught herself. "Yes. I suppose we do. Although before we can express our love to those around us, perhaps we must first embrace and express our love for ourselves."
"It's always funny hearing you talk like that."
"What do you mean?"
"Like you don't want to be understood. And you want whoever you're talking with to understand that they don't understand." Polaris froze, panic setting in as he saw something change in Mara's expression. "Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"No. It's fine, Polaris." Mara chuckled again, more openly this time. "The first Queen's Wrath, Sjur Eido, once said nearly the exact same thing to me. You do remind me of her sometimes, though she was perhaps more... straightforward. There were fewer dimensions to her than yourself, though at your core, you're similar to her." She stared into Polaris's eyes. Today, they were electric blue, as bright and as powerful as a bolt of Arc lightning.
"How so?" the Hunter asked.
"You and Sjur are endlessly passionate. Powerful. Charming. Problem solvers, though in different ways. Always determined to follow your chosen path, no matter what might draw you away from it. In a sea of the exceptional, you both stand above your peers."
Polaris was suddenly very aware of the fact that Mara still hadn't let go of his hand, even though his own had gone lax a few moments ago- and that her tone had changed a little. And had she gotten closer? Or had he shifted closer to her? He couldn't be quite sure. "High, uh... high praise from you, Your Grace."
Mara paused before letting go of Polaris's hand and standing up. "And I mean every word. But... I suppose that is all I wished to say to you. You are free to go."
Polaris also stood. "Yeah. I'll do that. Got some things to do. But... thanks, Mara. And the same offer you extended to me goes back to you. Anything you need to talk about, I'll be here." He could practically feel that Mara wanted to say more, and so did he, but now was not the time. And this was certainly not the place. "Well. Uh. Oh, screw it." He pulled Mara into a tight hug.
Mara's eyes widened for a moment as she was taken aback by the gesture, but she instinctively returned it, closing her eyes.
"You said earlier that you didn't think I saw you as a friend. You were wrong. You are my friend, Mara. One of my best."
Mara felt Polaris's breathing synchronize with her own. The Prince of the Sky and the Queen of the Awoken silently stood in each other's embrace for a moment before she spoke again. "You must never forget to love with all your heart, Polaris. As must I. We do not know who will walk away from this battle with us and who will be lost along the way."
"I promise." Polaris stepped away from Mara. "See you around, my lady." He bowed to the Queen, only partially in a joking manner, then transmatted back to his Ketch.
Mara took a deep breath before looking back at Gorilla, who was staring at her. "What?" she bluntly asked the horse. Then she noticed it seemed to be looking just over her shoulder instead of directly at her. She turned just in time to see Crow drop his invisibility.
The young Hunter had an amused smirk on his face. "Haven't seen you like that since... well, you know. Are you thinking of...?"
Mara put a hand on her hip. "It is as I said. The mission, the plan... ending the Witness comes first. Why were you spying on us?"
"Couldn't help myself." Crow shrugged. "Truth be told, I've been concerned about him too. I was worried that you'd say or do something, or send him on some exhausting mission that would push him past the breaking point... but I was pleasantly surprised. I think talking to you did him some good. He seemed a little... I don't know. Lighter, when he left."
"If I have been able to provide some relief to him, then I am satisfied. Even if it is only a little. Don't you have work to be doing?"
"Heh. Suppose I do. And so do you. Bye, Mara." Crow nodded to his sister as he transmatted away.
"Goodbye, Crow." Mara walked out of the stable, breathing in the cool midnight air. She felt a little lighter as well.
hi. sorry for disappearing (again). i, uh... i don't really know if i want to go anywhere with this particular relationship. i like the concept, but pursuing it actively would probably interfere with canon too much. we'll see, though. anyway. got a little bit depressing tonight, which might reflect my life in general (my stories often do). but there's a little glimmer of hope in there too. i'm not super proud of this particular entry, but it will have to do. hope you enjoyed
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2023.06.05 07:39 sillieranimal1 Just finished Monochrome Mobius, want to talk about it
Massive Uta fan, played everything except Lost Flag, and watched all the anime. One thing that was going through my mind the entire time whilst playing the game was "Why does this game exist" because either they will Arthur Morgan it, or Time Travel shenanigans are going to happen by the end of this story.
I enjoyed the game, it hit on all the points on why I love uta, but it just wasnt as good as the trilogy and 4th wall broke a bit too much for my liking, but all in all I did enjoy it, I hope the sequel cashes out hard cause I know Aquaplus can do it.
Now there's just somethings I wanna talk about, mainly the creation of more background lore near the end of the game. So from the mask series we see Halu is in munechika's possession when you look at all her plushies, so at the end of the second game she either takes the deactivated Halu and never talks about him again, and somehow doesnt see how Halu and Haku are the same exact person, or whatever a dimension quake is, will erase her memories of Monochome + Sequel and she will just make a Halu plushie from vague memories, which is what I'm betting on.
Then there's the whole Arva Shula Aztec thing, and during Mito's early expansion he fought another Utawarerumono? Which should only be one where Hakuowlo was frozen? Truthfully I dont like the addition of whatever the hell Quetzalcotal is cause what the hell could it actually be, other than another god thing that was buried.
Then there's Shunya being possessed by ANOTHER god which for some reason could see the future and paint it? Why would the god paint pictures of the future, and for what purpose? Also conflicted on the addition of Dimensional quakes being a thing cause thats just an entire can of worms.
And finally in the final dungeon Halu makes mention of 5 different projects, Cybernet, True ManKind, Exodus, Cradle, and the Proxies. We currently know what True and Proxies turned out to be, but Cybernet, Exodus, and Cradle are all new additions to the lore, and I guess potential games, we can guess that Exodus was leaving the planet which probably didnt work so there's just a ship full of tatari drifting in space for all eternity until Haku gets the mask. And cybernet is the matrix if they were able to pull it off, but Cradle I cannot guess, maybe restoring the planet so new life would probably evolve after a few million years.
Anyways thats all I wanted to talk about, I'd like to talk about it with other people if people have their own theories.
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2023.06.05 07:36 scarlet2248 Wedding Venue in The US: Our Recommendation Part II
Popular wedding venues in the western and central states were featured in Part 1 of US wedding venues
. So in part two, we'll focus on wedding venues in the eastern states. Whether it's a luxurious hotel, a rustic barn, or a spacious meadow, all are included. Again, the features of these venues and the approximate prices will be written. Let's explore these beautiful wedding venues!
Wisconsin Wedding Venues
The Paine Art Center and Gardens
This is an art museum located at 1410 Algoma Blvd, Oshkosh. It is an English-style country estate and has nearly four acres of gardens. It has perennial plants and is a great outdoor ceremony venue. Also, there is a historic mansion, charming carriage house, and greenhouse. The venue can accommodate up to 200 people and costs approximately $3000 to $4000 For 100 Guests
This is a professional event venue located at 515 E Main St, Stoughton. This historic venue offers industrial and rustic charm with exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and wood beams. It has ample space for ceremonies and receptions. The venue offers event coordination, customizable lighting options, a bridal suite, and access to preferred vendors. Accommodations for up to 250 people start at $3,500 for a 12-hour rental
The Enchanted Barn
Located at 1543 6 1/2 Ave, Hillsdale, this barn has an old-world rustic atmosphere around every corner. Featuring several indoor and outdoor venues, one of the most popular ceremony locations is located in Barn's upper-level Hayloft, featuring old wood timbers. Several wedding package options are available here and can accommodate up to 220 people. Off-season all-inclusive wedding packages are $5,000 plus $21 per person.
Illinois Wedding Venues
This is a historic mansion located at 3S501 Naperville Rd, Wheaton. a short drive from Chicago. The mansion is also surrounded by a forest preserve that allows for nature-filled photos. There are seven ceremony locations in total, and the largest Magnolia Garden can accommodate up to 300 guests. Venue rentals start at $3,500
The Morton Arboretum
This is a public nature garden and outdoor museum located at 4100 IL-53, Lisle. Inside there are not only mature trees and flowers but also a playground for children. Offering beautiful woodland and lakeside views. The large garden has a total of 12 venues to choose from and the largest room can accommodate up to 300 guests. Prices range from $600 to $9,000 depending on the size of the room and the time of year it is held
Located at 1840 W Hubbard St, Chicago, this is a very unique location that serves as a store besides being a wedding venue. It preserves treasured furniture from the past. This old Chicago warehouse offers an enchanting vintage atmosphere. The ceremony and banquet space can accommodate about 200 people and space rentals start at $4,000
Kentucky Wedding Venues
The Barn at Cedar Grove
The address is 1000 Brockman Keltner Rd, Greensburg, which has a rustic barn setting with picturesque scenery. Offering outdoor ceremony space, climate-controlled reception space, bridal suite, groom's quarters, and fire pit. The venue in the barn can accommodate up to 230 people. For fewer guests, the average budget for a wedding here is between $6,000 and $9,000
The Brown Hotel
This 100-year-old hotel is located at 335 W Broadway, Louisville. The hotel has a striking Georgian Revival look and offers elegant ballrooms, luxurious accommodations, and a gorgeous rooftop garden. The hotel also has extensive experience in hosting weddings of different cultures, such as Jewish and Indian weddings. Prices are $18,000 in the off-season and can accommodate up to 300 guests
Talon Winery & Vineyards
This winery has a large outdoor space at 7086 Tates Creek Rd, Lexington. Offers vineyard and winery backdrop, outdoor ceremony space, and rustic barn. The best part is the wine-tasting and vineyard tours. The venue can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices for ceremonies start at $1500
Tennessee Wedding Venues
Located at 28 Bussell Rd, Gordonsville, our vacation accommodations are perfect for small weddings. Surrounded by scenic walking trails, mountains, and woods. This venue specializes in small weddings of 30 people or less, with a focus on an intimate and cozy experience. Wedding packages range from $1795 to $5000
Dixon Gallery and Gardens
An art gallery on 17 acres of gardens located at 4339 Park Ave, Memphis, offers a romantic and artistic setting for weddings. The gallery offers two indoor reception venues as well as woodlands and gardens, both of which can accommodate up to 200 guests. Prices are approximately $4000 to $5000 For 100 guests
The Bell Tower
The Bell Tower, located at 400 4th Ave S, Nashville, is almost 140 years old. The ballroom features large windows that provide plenty of natural light, creating a charming and historic setting for weddings. There are two floors beside the lobby. Seated dinners for up to 400 people range from $3,500 to $16,000 depending on time and venue
Mississippi Wedding Venues
The site at 4145 Old Canton Rd, Jackson is the oldest residential building in Jackson, with a history of 175 years. The courtyard in front of the house with trees such as cedar, oak, and magnolia provides a natural backdrop for weddings. The venue can accommodate up to 300 people and costs $3,500 for a two-day weekend rental
Dunleith Historic Inn
A National Historic Landmark located at 84 Homochitto St, Natchez, the mansion features Greek Revival columns and original pine floors. The event space has a main floor, courtyard, and South Lawn, which can accommodate up to 700 people. Wedding packages start at $6,500, not including catering
The Gin at Flora Station
The address is 4819 MS-22, Flora. The refurbished cotton gin blends rustic charm with modern amenities. It offers indoor and outdoor spaces, including a covered gazebo and a patio with an old-fashioned truck bar. Rentals for ceremonies and receptions start at $3,500
Alabama Wedding Venues
This building, located at 1531 1st Ave S, Birmingham, is historic from the outside. With its industrial-inspired design and high ceilings along with red brick walls. Three indoor venues can accommodate up to 300 guests, and the cost of a ceremony starts at $4,000
The Sterling Castle
This castle is located at 389 Deseret Dr, Shelby, and has been voted the best wedding venue in Alabama. The fairytale-style castle, elegant ballroom, charming courtyard, and lakeside and drawbridge venues. This beautiful venue can accommodate up to 300 guests and all-inclusive weddings are priced at $10,000+
Huntsville Museum of Art
This is an art museum located at 300 Church St SW, Huntsville. With unique indoor and outdoor spaces, the museum is a contemporary art gallery. Offering outdoor spaces with a rooftop terrace, and five indoor hospitality venues. The starting venue fee for a wedding reception in high season is $1,500
Michigan Wedding Venues
Colony Club Detroit
Located at 2310 Park Ave, Detroit, this Georgian-style, historic venue features stunning architecture and gorgeous interiors. The hotel features a grand ballroom decorated with crystal chandeliers and intricate details. The ballroom can accommodate up to 350 guests and is priced between $12,000 and $15,000
This historic building, built in 1918, is located at 5052 M-66, Charlevoix. With a total of four site combinations in the summer. It offers several ceremony and reception spaces, including a charming outdoor garden and a majestic stone courtyard. The largest of these, the East Garden and Queen's Courtyard can host up to 300 guests. And the price range is between $6,750 and $9,250
The Inn at Stonecliffe
This is a Victorian village located at 8593 Cudahy Cir, Mackinac Island. away from the hustle and bustle of the area. With beautiful gardens and breathtaking views of Lake Huron and the Mackinaw Bridge. Accommodates up to 300 people and prices range from $4000 to $10,000
Ohio Wedding Venues
Franklin Park Conservatory
This is a horticultural and educational institution located at 1777 E Broad St, Columbus. The most popular venue is the indoor garden with an all-glass ceiling. Besides, there is an industrial-style venue and a 200-year-old barn. The venue has plenty of space and can accommodate up to 500 people, with prices ranging from $7,000 to $11,000 for a wedding of 100 guests
The Columbus Athenaeum
The historic building at 32 N 4th St, Columbus, was built in 1899. With a total of ten venues to choose from, the Grand Ballroom boasts gorgeous details and a stunning atrium. It is decorated with classical Greek art as well as soaring ornate ceilings. It can accommodate up to 230 guests. Prices for receptions start at $3,000
An oversized wine estate located at 1700 55th St NE, Canton. Picturesque vineyard setting and sparkling lake views. The open-air venue can accommodate up to 300 people, while the indoor venue can accommodate up to 120 guests. Full-service event planning, vineyard tours, and wine tastings are available. Prices for receptions will start at $1,450
Georgia Wedding Venues
This resort is located at 597 Barnsley Gardens Rd NW, Adairsville. With over 3,000 acres of land, it is a historic southern estate. With lush gardens, luxurious cabins, and grounds that can accommodate up to 250 people. Three wedding packages are available: $275 per person, $320 per person, and $350 per person
. And a least of 150 people is required.
This is a renovated warehouse located at 409 Bishop St NW, Atlanta. The roof is supported by massive bow trusses, which allow for a spacious, open floor plan without columns or supports. Through a wall of windows running the length of the space, there are breathtaking views of Atlantic Station and the downtown skyline. Accommodating up to 425 people, prices start at $4,000
The Biltmore Ballrooms
The ballroom is located at 817 W Peachtree St NW 208, Atlanta, and was established in 1924. The ballroom features a handcrafted plaster relief ceiling, ornate crystal lighting, and a marble floor. Capacity ranges from 50 to 1,500 people and offers eleven caterers. Rental rates range from $3,500 to $5,000, depending on the day of the week
Florida Wedding Venues
The Ancient Spanish Monastery
Located at 16711 W Dixie Hwy, North Miami Beach. This monastery was dismantled piece by piece from northern Spain and shipped to the United States, then rebuilt over 19 months. It offers a chapel and gardens for ceremonies. The garden can accommodate up to 300 guests for $6,500 and includes only the cost of the reception
The Breakers Palm Beach
This is a luxury resort located at 1 S County Rd, Palm Beach. This luxury resort is located in Palm Beach and enjoys magnificent beachfront views, lush gardens, and an exquisite ballroom. It boasts a timeless and elegant ambiance. It can host weddings for a maximum of less than 500 people, and detailed prices need to be communicated with the hotel
The Ringling Museum
The museum is located at 5401 Bay Shore Rd, Sarasota, with a breathtaking view of Sarasota Bay. This venue offers unique views of art, culture, and the stunning waterfront. It includes many event spaces, including a large courtyard and an elegant ballroom. The largest art gallery courtyard can accommodate up to 125 guests and prices start at $20,000
New York Wedding Venues
Mohonk Mountain House
Located at 1000 Mountain Rest Rd, New Paltz, this historic resort is surrounded by 40,000 acres of pristine forest. Featuring a majestic Victorian castle with panoramic mountain views. Choose from lakeside, garden, and mountain views for your ceremony. Wedding packages range from $275 to $375 per person
The address is 42-38 9th Street, Long Island City, with a history dating back to the 19th century. Offering an industrial chic atmosphere, a garden courtyard and conservatory, a stunning main space, plus rustic interiors. Accommodates up to 180 guests, with receptions starting at $14,000.
Estate at 2015 US-9, Garrison, with superb Hudson River views and Catskill Mountain views. The venue offers a modern ballroom, outdoor ceremony space, and golf course. The venue can accommodate up to 200 guests for $12,000.
Pennsylvania Wedding Venues
The Curtis Atrium
The historic building at 699 Walnut St, Philadelphia used to be the Curtis Publishing Company. It is now a building with a mix of residential, office, and retail space. It features a stunning atrium, marble columns, and a stunning rotunda. Space rentals start at $8,000
The Cork Factory Hotel
This boutique hotel is located at 480 New Holland Ave 3000, Lancaster, a converted historic cork mill with exposed brick walls. Offering industrial charm and modern amenities. The venue has a ballroom, a terrace, and a 2,300-square-foot warehouse. Space is available for up to 200 guests, and wedding packages start at $7,000
Terrain Gardens at Devon Yard
A stunning garden is located at 138 W Lancaster Ave Suite 130, Devon. The venue is decorated with elements such as reclaimed barn wood floors, raised holiday lights, and skylights to create a unique aesthetic. Of course, there is an essential gardening setting and open-air venue that can accommodate up to 140 guests. Prices for receptions start at $4,525
West Virginia Wedding Venues
The entire resort is nestled beside a tranquil lake at 940 Resort Drive Roanoke, a place of scenic beauty and rustic charm. Wedding venues are available on the lakeside lawn or in the courtyard, with an indoor grand hall and stone-walled ballroom. Spa services, golf courses, and entertainment can also be experienced with wedding packages ranging from $3,500 to $12,000
A luxury resort located at 101 W Main St, White Sulphur Springs. With stunning architecture, beautiful gardens, and breathtaking mountain views. The indoor venue has a dramatic chandelier and stage. The outdoor grounds feature expansive lawns and rustic cabins. Packages start at $10,000
and vary depending on the number of guests, season, and customization.
Sleepy Hollow Golf Club
The Club at 3780 Sleepy Hollow Dr, Hurricane. It is a private golf club for families. Featuring a scenic golf course, elegant ballroom, outdoor lawn ceremony venue, and picturesque countryside views. Wedding packages start at $3,500
Virginia Wedding Venues
Historic Manor River Park at 1700 Hampton St, Richmond. Inside are gardens, botanical gardens, and native wildlife habitats. The scenic setting includes 100-year-old Italian gardens, European-style manor houses, pavilions, expansive lawns, and the Robbins Nature Center. Prices range from $3,500 to $6,100
Inn At Willow Grove
This is a rustic accommodation located at 14079 Plantation Way, Orange. It is unusually peaceful and romantic, surrounded by ancient trees and beautiful gardens. One of the gardens, Boxwood, can accommodate up to 175 guests and offers idyllic views. A versatile barn is also available as a hospitality venue, with rates starting at $7,500
The Tides Inn
Located at 480 King Carter Dr, Irvington, the entire hotel is situated on a beautiful body of water with views of the Chesapeake Bay. It is a waterfront resort. You can also come here to take part in fun activities such as tennis, golf, paddle boarding, biking, and kayaking. Weddings start at $3,100
North Carolina Wedding Venues
Professional wedding venue located at 523 Pea Ridge Rd, New Hill. It resembles a European town building with charming gardens and rustic barns. It can accommodate up to 250 guests for a ceremony in the gardens. Wedding packages will vary depending on the time of year and are priced at $8,000 on Fridays and $9,800 on Saturdays
The Merrimon-Wynne House
The mansion located at 500 N Blount St, Raleigh was built in 1876 and has been well maintained and is now a venue for various events. The building has a main floor full of Southern charm. Inside are original floors and mantelshelves, ornate chandeliers, and a wide porch. The outdoor area is also large enough to host ceremonies in the garden and can accommodate up to 250 guests. Prices for receptions start at $5,000
It's an English-style country hotel located at 2000 Fearrington Village Center. Besides the quaint country setting there are dense gardens with water features. The largest venue is the barn, which offers spacious dining and dancing space and can accommodate up to 250 people guests. Prices for ceremonies start at $2500.
South Carolina Wedding Venues
This National Historic Landmark is located at 4300 Ashley River Rd, Charleston. You can experience daily life on an 18th-century plantation and enjoy 65 acres of unobstructed views and private garden rooms. Also, enjoy the oldest landscaped gardens on the property. There are 7 ceremony venues, ranging from small weddings of 50 to 400 guests. Prices start at $5,000
William Aiken House
The 1807 mansion is located at 456 King St, Charleston, a restored mansion that showcases Southern charm and architectural elegance. The yard features a magnolia tree that is over two hundred years old and an elegant terrace. It is also rated as one of South Carolina's premier wedding venues. The cost of a ceremony starts at $3,000.
The Cedar Room
Modern industrial event space at 701 E Bay St, Charleston. Featuring exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and large windows overlooking the cityscape. The indoor Cedar Room venue can accommodate up to 500 people for events, and the outdoor yard can seat up to 200. Events on Fridays or Sundays start at $3,500.
Vermont Wedding Venues
Inn at Mountain View Farm
The Inn at 3383 Darling Hill Rd, East Burke, has breathtaking mountaintop views. Enjoy mountain biking, cross-country skiing, and visits to animal farms, among many other activities. Venues can range from beautiful fields to cozy campfires. Weekend wedding packages start at $3,500
Hildene - The Lincoln Family Home
The building at 1005 Hildene Rd, Manchester is full of meaning. The Lincolns built Hildene as a summer home at the turn of the 20th century. Here you can look out over the Taconic Mountains to the west and the Green Mountains to the east. The outdoor venue can accommodate up to 200 people and wedding reception prices start at $8,000.
(Hildene - The Lincoln Family Home)
The Henry House
The historic house at 1338 Murphy Rd, North Bennington, built in 1769, is one of the oldest surviving houses in Vermont. Overlooks the authentic red-covered Henry Bridge. The site offers several vendors for you to consider. The large trees outside the house make for the best wedding photos. The venue needs to be contacted for a specific quote.
Massachusetts Wedding Venues
The Crane Estate
This is a Tudor Revival mansion located at 290 Argilla Rd, Ipswich. It was the summer home of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Taylor Crane, Jr. with winding salt marshes, miles of barrier beaches, and a beautiful hilltop mansion. And of course the rolling lawns and gardens. There are three sites to choose from in all, with the beachfront site accommodating 200 to 500 people. Weekend weddings are priced at $6500.
Red Lion Inn
The Inn at 30 Main St, Stockbridge has a 250-year history. The entire Inn combines traditional New England hospitality with the amenities of a modern hotel. The largest Hitchcock room capacity is capacity 30-175 people. Venue rentals start at $4,000.
A sophisticated hotel located at 215 Charles St, Boston. Located in the heart of downtown, just steps from shopping, dining, Boston Parks, and more. The hotel offers a private secret garden that can accommodate up to 200 people outdoors and an indoor 3000-square-foot ballroom. Wedding venue rates start at $26,000 for up to 100 guests.
Connecticut Wedding Venues
The Lace Factory
This historic factory is located at 161 River St, Deep River, and offers a charming and rustic atmosphere for a wedding venue. It has wood floors, high ceilings, and large windows overlooking the river. The Lace Factory offers event planning services, on-site catering, and a variety of rental options for weddings of all sizes. The Factory can accommodate up to 225 people and prices start at $5,000.
Eolia Mansion at Harkness State
The address is 275 Great Neck Rd, Waterford. Nestled on the shoreline of Waterford, Connecticut, this elegant mansion offers breathtaking views of Long Island Sound. It has manicured gardens, a stone terrace, and a beautiful ballroom. The price of $5,100
includes exclusive use of the mansion's first floor and south courtyard tent for 5 hours.
The Society Room of Hartford
This event venue is located at 31 Pratt St, Hartford, and the historic venue boasts magnificent architecture. It includes a marble staircase, beautifully frescoed ceilings, and crystal chandeliers. It provides a luxurious and timeless setting for weddings. The venue can accommodate up to 300 guests and prices start at 15,000.
New Hampshire Wedding Venues
Wentworth By The Sea Country Club
Country Club at 60 Wentworth Rd, Rye. This private club is near the shore and enjoys magnificent waterfront views and a romantic atmosphere. The hotel has manicured grounds and a historic clubhouse. It can accommodate up to 250 guests in this setting. Three options are available: lawn, clubhouse, and tent weddings. Reception prices start at $30,000
The Preserve at Chocorua
This venue, located at 88 Philbrick Neighborhood Rd, Tamworth, is a rustic and secluded wedding venue nestled in the White Mountains. It offers scenic views, a charming barn, and plenty of outdoor space for the ceremony. Outdoor activities such as sleigh rides and hiking are also available. Approximate prices will start at $1000.
The Farmhouse, located at 33 Bishop Cutoff, Lisbon, is a historic and beautifully landscaped site in the White Mountains. It offers a restored 1876 farmhouse, a barn, and lush greenery. There is also a romantic bistro with a terrace to relax in. Accommodating up to 200 guests, prices start at $15,000.
Rhode Island Wedding Venues
The Chanler at Cliff Walk
A luxury hotel located at 117 Memorial Blvd, Newport. The Chanler offers luxurious accommodations and a grand mansion setting with stunning views of the Atlantic Ocean and access to their world-class restaurant. Specializing in weddings for up to 120 guests with access to their world-class restaurant. Site rentals start at $10,000.
Blithewold Mansion, Gardens & Arboretum
Historic mansion on 33 acres located at 101 Ferry Rd, Bristol with breathtaking views of Narragansett Bay. Large tents are available in the outdoor area, followed by sunset views. Accommodating up to 225 guests, weekend wedding rates start at $12,995.
Situated in the heart of Providence, The Dorrance is a restored bank building with a sophisticated atmosphere and elegant decor. The most special feature is the long, luxurious bar, which can accommodate up to 200 guests throughout the venue. Venue rentals start at $7,500
New Jersey Wedding Venues
The Ashford Estate
Located at 637 Province Line Rd, Allentown, this elegant property is nestled in a picturesque setting. Surrounded by hundreds of acres of beautifully preserved farmland, it features sparkling fountains, waterfalls, garden pavilions, expansive views, and of course, luxurious private suites. The wedding venue can accommodate up to 300 guests. Starting at $10,000
Mallard Island Yacht Club
A club surrounded by water at 1450 NJ-72, Manahawkin. six more venues to choose from in the luxurious private island mansion. The center plaza boasts grand arches and ornate ceilings reminiscent of old-world glamour. The ballroom can accommodate up to 250 people, and prices for receptions start at $20,000
Liberty House Restaurant & Events
This waterfront event venue is located at 76 Audrey Zapp Dr, Jersey City. It features unparalleled views of the New York City skyline, Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and the Liberty Landing Pier. The Grand Ballroom features a marble floor and floor-to-ceiling windows. The venue can accommodate up to 300 people and venue rental fees start at $8,000
Delaware Wedding Venues
The Queen Wilmington
This dazzling venue is located at 500 N Market St, Wilmington is downtown. It is a historic music venue that offers a unique and eclectic atmosphere. The venue features a grand ballroom with a stage, state-of-the-art sound system, and elegant décor. The venue can accommodate up to 200 guests and wedding reception prices start from $3,000
The Cordrey Center
The address is 30366 Cordrey Rd, Millsboro, and its restored barn and surrounding gardens provide a rustic and charming setting. The venue offers a range of services, including in-house catering, bar service, and event coordination. It has indoor and outdoor options and can accommodate up to 200 guests. Venue rental rates start at $3,500.
The Waterfall Catering and Special Events
With an address at 3416 Philadelphia Pike, Claymont, The Waterfall has a modern venue. Centered around a stunning indoor waterfall. The spacious ballroom features contemporary décor and customizable LED lighting systems. The venue can accommodate up to 500 guests. Prices for venue rentals start at $6,000.
Maryland Wedding Venues
Located at 1 East Chase Street and built-in 1902 as a historic landmark in Baltimore, The Belvedere showcases stunning architecture and classic charm. It offers a variety of event spaces, including a rooftop ballroom with panoramic views of the city. Inside, the décor is more vintage and ornate. Accommodating up to 500 guests, venue rentals start at $8,000.
Evergreen Museum & Library
This grand Gilded Age mansion is located at 4545 N Charles St, Baltimore. It is full of history with a house museum and research library. With beautiful gardens, this venue offers a mix of elegance and history. It's architectural details and scenic surroundings provide a unique backdrop. As well as a tour of the museum's collection. Accommodates up to 200 guests and starts at $6,000
Chesapeake Bay Beach Club
Located at 500 Marina Club Rd, Stevensville, this venue offers stunning waterfront views and an elegant ballroom. It also has an oceanfront ceremony venue and luxurious accommodations. There are four ballrooms in total, three indoor and one outdoor. Accommodations for up to 300 guests start at $10,000
District of Columbia Wedding Venues
Larz Anderson House
Located at 2118 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, the Anderson House, established in 1905, is a stunning Beaux-Arts mansion that offers a romantic and intimate setting for weddings. The venue features beautiful gardens, a grand staircase, and gorgeous rooms decorated with historic artwork. It can accommodate up to 200 guests and has access to the house's magnificent library. Prices start from $8,000.
Located at 800 16th St NW, Washington, across from the White House, the hotel offers magnificent views of the iconic landmark. This venue has many event spaces, including a rooftop terrace from which the White House can be used as a photo backdrop. Wedding venues can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices start at $15,000.
National Museum of Women in the Arts
Located at 1250 New York Ave NW, Washington, this unique venue celebrates women artists and offers a distinctive setting for weddings. With its stunning architecture and world-class art collection, it provides an exquisite atmosphere for your special day. The venue offers a variety of event spaces, including an assembly hall and mezzanine level, and can accommodate up to 400 guests. However, the museum is temporarily closed for renovations.
Maine Wedding Venues
The resort's address is 354 Goose Rocks Rd, Kennebunkport, and is nestled in a secluded wooded area. Featuring elegant indoor and outdoor spaces. Surrounded by 60 acres of birch and balsam fir, it features two outdoor pools and a three-room treetop spa. It ensures an unforgettable wedding experience. Prices start from US$10,000
The farm is located at 254 W Fryeburg Rd, Fryeburg. This rustic and chic site features a restored 18th-century farmhouse and a spacious barn with panoramic mountain views. Of course, there are also seasonal gardens and a woodland church. The most special feature is the provision of a cable car to reach the top of the mountain, which is also a popular backdrop for photos. It can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices start from $6,500.
Portland Regency Hotel & Spa
The address is 20 Milk St, Portland, and is centrally located, offering a blend of classic elegance and modern amenities. With many event spaces, on-site catering, and a spa, it can accommodate intimate and large weddings. Accommodations range from 10 to 220 guests, with rates starting at $3,500.
Conclusion "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." When Harry Met Sally
Finally, we've rounded up our recommendations for wedding venues in each of the remaining states. Choosing the perfect wedding venue is an important step in creating your dream wedding. It sets the tone for the entire celebration and provides the backdrop for your special day. No matter what style of wedding venue you prefer, there is a venue above that perfectly suits your style and preferences.
Last but not least, don't forget to check out Quictent's wedding tent
. we offer quality wedding tents for your outdoor wedding, containing various types and sizes.
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2023.06.05 07:29 A_horse_a_piece77 AI: Good News For Bad Guys
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ChatGPT and artificial intelligence (AI) are all the rage right now. https://preview.redd.it/w0pl2itsx44b1.jpg?width=787&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ba25962ed7ba35d4f268835321826bd61506c9ca
In fact, AI and GPT together are almost the only drivers of positive stock market performance today.
A small group of companies with advanced capabilities in AI/GPT (Microsoft, NVIDIA, Google, Apple, and a few others) are rallying sharply on the profit and productivity potential offered by the new technology.
If the AI/GPT plays were removed from stock market indices, the remainder of the stocks would be down on a year-to-date basis. Whether this performance is a bubble or a genuine leap based on fundamentals remains to be seen.
History is filled with investing fads that fizzle out.
Still, there’s no doubt about the impact. That said, GPT has a dark side that is quickly coming to the fore. What do I mean?
Good News for Bad Guys
Malign actors can use the speed and comprehensiveness of GPT to produce fake images and content. They can then push that content into social media and mainstream channels to cause market rallies and crashes.
In other words, for market manipulators, inside traders, and geopolitical adversaries, GPT is one of the best tools ever invented. Here’s a recent case in point…
Last Monday, May 22, a story appeared on Facebook, Twitter, and several other media channels showing a large building on fire near the Pentagon along with speculation that a terrorist attack might be underway.
Stocks immediately began to sell off. Within minutes, it was realized that the building fire photo was fake (based on some windows that had an irregular instead of uniform appearance).
And indeed, the entire story was fake.
The image of the building with billowing smoke was generated by AI. Investors should get used to this type of AI-induced panic that can manipulate markets.
The AI/GPT technology is already in the hands of bad actors and they won’t stop using it just because this one fake was detected quickly.
Computer vs. Computer
Most stock trading is done by computers primed to look for keywords in breaking news. This was a case of computers selling stock based on what another computer was reporting with the use of a fake photo and fake news.
It’s computer versus computer using AI/GPT as advanced weaponry. Here’s why that’s so potentially dangerous…
Today, stock markets and other markets such as bonds and currencies can best be described as “automated automation.” What do I mean?
There are two stages in stock investing. The first is coming up with a preferred allocation among stocks, cash, bonds, etc. This stage also includes deciding how much to put in index products or exchange-traded funds (ETFs, which are a kind of mini-index) and how much active management to use.
The second stage involves the actual buy and sell decisions — when to get out, when to get in and when to go to the sidelines with safe-haven assets such as Treasury notes or gold.
What investors may not realize is the extent to which both of these decisions are now left entirely to computers. I’m not talking about automated trade matching where I’m a buyer and you’re a seller and a computer matches our orders and executes the trade. That kind of trading has been around since the 1990s.
I’m talking about computers making the portfolio allocation and buy/sell decisions in the first place, based on algorithms, with no human involvement at all. This is now the norm.
The Demise of Active Investing
Over 80% of stock trading is now automated in the form of either index funds (over 60%) or quantitative models (under 20%). This means that “active investing,” where you pick the allocation and the timing, is down to less than 20% of the market. Although even active investors receive automated execution.
In all, the amount of human “market making” in the traditional sense is down to about 5% of total trading. This trend is the result of two intellectual fallacies.
The first is the idea that “You can’t beat the market.” This drives investors to index funds that match the market. The truth is you can beat the market with good models, but it’s not easy.
The second fallacy is that the future will resemble the past over a long horizon, so “traditional” allocations of, say, 60% stocks, 30% bonds and 10% cash (with fewer stocks as you get older) will serve you well.
But Wall Street doesn’t tell you that a 50% or greater stock market crash — as happened in 1929, 2000 and 2008 — just before your retirement date will wipe you out.
But this is an even greater threat that’s rarely considered…
Shouting Fire In a Crowded Theater
In a bull market, this type of passive investing amplifies the upside as indexers pile into hot stocks like, for example, Nvidia, Google and Apple have been recently. But a small sell-off can turn into a stampede as passive investors head for the exits all at once without regard to the fundamentals of a particular stock.
It’s like shouting “Fire!” in a crowded theater. AI could issue the false alarm that sends investors scrambling for the exits.
Index funds would stampede out of stocks. Passive investors would look for active investors to “step up” and buy. The problem is there wouldn’t be any active investors left, or at least not enough to make a difference.
There would be no active investors left to risk capital by trying to catch a falling knife.
Stocks will go straight down with no bid. The market crash will be like a runaway train with no brakes. It all comes back to complexity, and the market is an example of a complex system.
One formal property of complex systems is that the size of the worst event that can happen is an exponential function of the system scale. This means that when a complex system’s scale is doubled, the systemic risk does not double; it may increase by a factor of 10 or more.
The emergence of AI-generated “fake news” can amplify these market movements.
As the technology improves, which it inevitably will, it’ll become increasingly difficult to distinguish reality from fiction. Stories like the fire near the Pentagon will become much harder to debunk.
Investors need to understand these technological developments before their portfolio holdings are badly damaged.
One thing we can be sure of is that the threat is not going away.
Written by James Rickards at the DailyReckoning.com
2023.06.05 07:07 girl_from_the_crypt Stuck on earth and looking for a job: There's more to the waitresses at my favorite diner than I thought
Something happened tonight. Something always seems to be happening these days, but this time, it was particularly confusing.
Some days don't even feel real anymore.
After my last post, I did as my savior human had advised me. I called Mary Markov and relayed to her what Jewel had told me. She promised to send agents to the warehouse right away, and late that same night, she reached out to me once again with news of an arrest having been made. Despite this small success, we both knew that this meant outright war. The Collective would know who had given them away, and the possibility of me joining their ranks peacefully would be off the table. The question remaining was when they would make good on their threat. Nettie Peterson's house is being guarded by covert Agency personnel, and mine and Eli's apartments are under watch, too. I'm glad Mary Markov is doing what she can to protect them, but I never doubted that complications would arise eventually.
Just not quite so soon.
The day started off fine. My best friend, still being relatively used to having agents around, doesn't seem to mind the aforementioned changes. The van inconspicuously parked outside her house didn't bother her in the least as she went about her morning routine. I helped her throw together something nourishing for breakfast, then watched her doing her makeup. She likes to keep her lips glossy and often applies lime green eyeshadow paired with a pear-colored line and, on special days, the occasional rhinestone. She looks like a garden fairy. When I told her that today, she treated me to a bright smile and a pat on the cheek.
She went off to look after her larvae, leaving me to roam her house alone. I spent some time inspecting the many drawings she keeps framed on the high wall in the living room. She always brings new ones home from work—gifts from the kindergarteners. They're not very artistically skilled, but they do produce interesting work. Nettie hangs them all up on the special wall, even the really bad ones. I watched TV for a couple hours, then read until Nettie came home.
It was getting dark out when she realized she needed tampons. She said she could get by on what she had until the morning, but no longer. I told her to stay put and that I'd run and get some for her, which is why I went on that fateful evening walk. I gave a quick nod to the agent leaning against the van outside as I started heading down the street, backpack slung over my shoulder. I made it to the convenience store five minutes before closing time, giving the annoyed cashier an apologetic look as she rang me up. Outside, the nightly blackness had settled over the rooftops, and I took in a deep breath, letting the fresh air flood my body.
All was well as I began to march back in the direction of Nettie's home. Until I heard a motorcycle revving.
I instantly froze up. There was no one immediately in sight. I tried to soothe my fevered mind. There was no reason to be so on edge. A lot of town residents owned motorcycles, or at least I assumed they did. This reaction was a testament to my own waning sanity, no doubt. I shuddered, making an effort to shake the thought. There was a nervous tension in my step as I continued on my way. The engine noises faded off into the distance after a while, and I concluded that I was indeed becoming a bit paranoid.
Step by step, I carried myself towards my goal. Nettie Peterson's street wasn't anywhere in sight yet, but I would probably be at her door in around ten minutes tops. I had walked the distance between her house and the store often enough to estimate. I considered putting my earbuds in and listening to some music as a distraction, but I was afraid of what I might end up missing if I took away my sense of hearing. I began to chew on the inside of my cheek.
There was not a soul out except for me. This wasn't uncommon considering the size of our town, but given the circumstances, it still served to elevate my heart rate. I repeatedly tried and failed to calm myself. Eventually, I couldn't help it anymore. I took off running. And then it happened—someone stepped out from a sidestreet right ahead of me and we collided. Large hands flew to my shoulders, long fingers harshly digging into them. I didn't need to look up at the other person to recognize them. I sensed the same musky smell that had lingered around my room for hours after their last visit; warm, sweet and impossible to ignore. I could suddenly hear every single beat of my heart reverberating between my ears. Dread seemed to dribble down my bone-dry throat, pooling in my stomach like cold water.
I slowly lifted my head, knowing exactly who was about to stare back at me.
Jewel's eyes were incredibly wide. Their brows were trembling in manic, barely restrained fury, their lower lip quivered and, to my complete bewilderment, tears were freely rolling down their cheeks. They solidified the moment the skin contact was lost, turning into shimmering stones of green, blue and violet. I reached out and caught one before it could hit the ground. It was bright pink, and I found myself captivated by its beauty.
"So, can I… keep this?" I asked, tilting my head at the cultist.
Their chest was rising and falling heavily, and I shrank back a little when I took note of their nostrils flaring. "You are so
dead," they uttered in a low, husky growl.
"I take it you got news of the Agency's involvement?"
Jewel once more closed the distance between us. They leaned down, their gemstone tears bouncing off my chest as they fell. "You spiteful little bitch. You'd rather try to ruin a good cause than forgive me and work together?"
"You can't be this delusional."
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do!" they snapped, their voice rising to an eerily high pitch. They paused, looking briefly confused by what they'd said before the wrathful expression twisted their features again.
"What now? Are you seriously going to attack me out in the open like this?"
"Oh." Jewel drew themself up, squaring their muscled shoulders. "Oh, I'll manage."
Their outline before me started to blur, becoming fuzzy and indistinct. I blinked, then reached up to rub my eyes. They weren't becoming any clearer, though. Frowning, I took several steps back, squinting at the spot where the cultist had just been standing. The cultist was quickly turning into a faint, paling swirl of colors, losing shape before at last disappearing completely.
I was speechless, my pulse racing as beads of sweat ran down the side of my face. I couldn't believe it. Had all of this been some sort of hallucination? I raised a hand to my feverishly hot forehead. I was losing my mind. That had to be it. My gaze dropped to the gray asphalt and my breath caught in my throat when I spotted the colorful stones lying at my feet. Fuck.
A soft laugh rang out beside my ear, a draft of moist, warm air grazing my cheek.
I instinctively swung at the emptiness beside me, my clenched fist connecting with nothing. No.
"Come back here," I whined, flinching at the unmasked fear in my own voice. A sharp pain flared up in my ankle as my feet were swiped out from under me. I let out a squeak as I fell onto my open palms, managing to shield my head from the impact just in time. The rough ground scraped my hands and knees as I hurriedly pushed myself up, a few stray pebbles drawing blood. Despite my panic, my mind was clear enough to understand that I was in a precarious position. I couldn't just whip out my tentacles—not here where anyone could see me. It would for sure result in hysteria. People could start straight-up shooting at me. I'd end up looking like a monstrosity on a rampage, especially with Jewel having gone invisible. As it were, I only had one option, and that was to run.
I didn't waste another second. There was no way I was leading this murder cultist back to Nettie, but I had to find somewhere with other people, anywhere…
Aimlessly charging ahead, I tried to bring more distance between myself and the disembodied footsteps ringing out from behind me. Before long however, it was becoming hard to tell how far away they truly were. The sound seemed to flit from side to side, reaching my ears from constantly changing directions. The asshole was messing with my head.
Soon enough, my lungs were on fire. My sides were stinging; breathing became harder. I inwardly cursed my useless short legs. Still, I didn't slow down; I didn't dare to. I was growing increasingly desperate. Where was I supposed to go? I couldn't think of any places still open. And then, cutting through the darkness, a flickering neon sign offered the answer to all of my questions. Tom's Diner. With hope renewing my spirits, I picked up my pace once more. Rhonda was just in the process of moving the big menu sign inside for the night. I came to a skittering halt mere inches in front of her, helplessly grabbing onto her apron before she could close the door behind her.
She spun around to face me with knotted brows. "Evangeline?"
"Help me," I wheezed. "Let me in, quick!"
Rhonda, though still visibly perplexed, sprang into action, dragging me inside along with her. I slammed the door shut, throwing my entire weight against it. An unseen force clashed against it from outside, making the entire storefront shudder. The waitress nearly dropped her sign. "What in the—"
"They're after me," I choked out. "You can't see them, but they're right outside!"
"Oh." Her expression cleared up. "Say no more, say no more." She reached into her apron pocket, rummaging around while mumbling to herself. "I'm picking up what you're putting down…" She produced a bright red marker. "Allow me." Swiftly stepping up to me, she raised the felt tip to my forehead, proceeding to draw something onto my skin with smooth, efficient accuracy. An incoherent whisper slipped from her lips, words in a language I had never heard before. Finally, she pulled back. "Turn around, try if you can see them now. The door locks automatically, by the way."
I hesitantly shifted my weight back onto my feet, releasing the door and turning to look out into the night. I let out a gasp, staggering back when I found the contorted visage of the cultist pressed up against the glass. Jewel's eyes were still rimmed with shimmering tears, their mouth twisted in a grimace of murderous rage. They frowned in confusion when they realized that my gaze was once more trained on them. It didn't take long until they started pounding on the windowpane again.
"Hey! You stop that," Rhonda shouted, stabbing a finger in their direction. "I just cleaned that today! Oh hell… Hailey!" she called over her shoulder. "We have a problem; come help."
Another waitress came rushing out of the back room. Glancing between us and the pacing cultist outside had her huff out a sigh. "I see," she said icily. Determinedly striding towards the door, she lifted her voice, beginning to recite a verse or rhyme of some sort. It all sounded like gibberish to me. My head was spinning, my mind running wild, unable to keep track of what was happening around me. My skull suddenly felt prickly from the inside, my whole body seemingly turning weightless. My vision fell away as my eyes rolled back and my knees gave out from beneath me. I had lost consciousness before I hit the floor.
I don't believe I was out for very long, despite my exhausted body embracing the cold slumber. A voice tugged on the edge of my hearing, gently guiding me towards wakefulness. I had been moved onto a slightly softer, more comfortable surface. I arduously craned my neck up to overlook my surroundings. I was lying on one of the padded benches next to the stationary tables. Crouching beneath it in order to sit close to me was a very familiar figure.
"Hey, Sunshine." Frankie Preston straightened up as far as he could without hitting his head. "Sorry I wasn't there to catch you when you fainted. Too bad. It could have been our movie-moment."
I smiled at him. Then I jolted upright, nearly kicking Frankie under the table as I planted my feet on the floor to train my eyes on Rhonda. She was leaning against the partition wall of the booth, typing away on her phone. "You," I uttered. "You and that other lady did some kind of… witchcraft-thing."
She glanced up briefly. "Oh. That was nothing, really. Forget about it."
Fran poked his head out from between my legs. "What's this about witchcraft?"
Rhonda shrugged. "Hailey and I just performed some basic spells to get rid of your little wife's stalker."
"Could you please
not—nevermind that; what are you even talking about?" Fran's voice was dripping with bewilderment.
The older woman raised a brow at him. "Honey, we're… we're witches. You did
know that, right?"
"Right?" Rhonda repeated, once again not receiving a response.
"I don't think he did," I supplied helpfully.
"You're kidding me." Rhonda stared at the blonde with her mouth agape. "How could you not have known? You lived with us for almost two years!"
He still gave no answer.
"Honey, you saw everything!
You saw my herbs…" Her voice faltered in disbelief. "And the ceremonial daggers… The charms around the doors!"
"You played with Mae-Lynn's casting crystals for a whole afternoon? You were in the room
when Paloma made her sacrifice for Loki's favor? You literally watched all six of us at our bonfire dance during the blood moon!"
"I thought that was just another crunchy mom thing."
"Crunchy mom thing?" she echoed, her chest rising at the affront. Jabbing a finger at my forehead, she added, "And how would you have accounted for that?"
"That little drawing? I thought Eva had gotten herself tattooed." Frankie glanced between Rhonda and me in confusion.
"It's a magic symbol, for crying out loud; it's a protection against forces messing with her perception!" the waitress explained in audible exasperation. "And who would get their forehead inked?"
"Eva might. You gotta admit she has peculiar fashion tastes," Frankie argued.
I couldn't help but chime in. "Why do people keep saying that?"
Rhonda threw her hands up in defeat.
I cleared my throat. "You're saying that all the ladies working here have supernatural abilities?"
"Like I just told you." She rubbed her temples with both hands. "And I'm sorry you fainted. It had to do with Hailey—her magic is great for defending against dark influences. The spell she cast was to scare off your attacker, but it seems to have affected you, too."
"I don't consider myself a dark influence."
"Well, you are
an interdimensional being," Rhonda replied. "Not normally mankind's best friend. But I know you're a good kid. Don't worry."
"Thank you very much for helping me," I said softly, staring at my hands as I folded them in my lap. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
"So, the six of you all together are probably really powerful?" I inquired, an idea faintly taking shape in my mind.
"You could say that," Rhonda answered, not without a hint of pride.
"Is there any way I could get your input on a problem I've been having?"
"I suppose," she said slowly. "We'll hear you out, sure, but that's about all the promises I'll make for now, okay?"
"Alright. I'll talk to the girls and we'll be in touch." She zipped up her jacket, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Goodnight, you two."
With that, she left us sitting in the empty diner. Frankie still looked rather puzzled. Shaking his head, he turned to give me a droll smile. "How embarrassing. I normally pride myself on being perceptive. People are strange though, aren't they?" He sat down beside me on the bench, shuffling closer. "You ran into trouble again? With the cultist?"
I didn't really want to relay the entirety of what I'd learned from Jewel to him—somehow, I didn't think Frankie would be opposed to someone bringing by the end of the world. It would be best to keep that particular piece of information stored away for a while longer. Instead, I asked a completely different, if not wholly unrelated question. "The other day, you told me about feeling destructive and grimy. Where is that coming from?"
"Sunshine, I know I've danced around this for long enough. I can tell you, but you look miserable right now. I'd much rather have you in better spirits first." He placed a tentative hand on my back. "Anything I can do to cheer you up?"
I started chewing on my lower lip, not meeting his gaze.
"You're thinking about kissing me again, aren't you?" Frankie asked, having apparently learned how to read minds.
"We don't have to. I do not
"That nearly crossed the line between accommodating and insulting. Look, I want to
. You just caught me off guard the last time." He pulled a wet string from his chewing gum. I waited in silence for him to continue. "I'm honestly surprised you're still up to it. I know I'm a piece of shit."
"I am. And what's more, you should know that kissing is as far as things are gonna get between us. I don't do the sex-thing. That's nothing to do with how much I like you or anything. I just don't do that." He had removed his gum from his mouth completely, instead fumbling around with it like play doh. "If that cancels out the whole liking-me-extravaganza, then it's best we cleared that up beforehand." He turned to face me. "What's that look for?"
I was beaming at him with more conviction that I had found the most perfect being than ever. "This works out beautifully," I told him.
"Are you sure? You're not just saying this?"
"If you don't take my word for it, I wouldn't know how else to prove it."
"I believe you! I'm glad, I really am, I'm just kinda stunned." He straightened up. "I want to kiss you even more now."
A quiet squeak came from somewhere in my throat. "I can hear my pulse," I remarked.
"Yeah, me too." He grinned, propping his chin in his palm. "Excited?"
"You know that." Feeling I had to share more, I added, "This is the first time for me. That doesn't change anything, does it?"
Fran's brows rose a great deal. "Huh."
"Is that bad?"
"No! But seriously, is this
gonna be your first kiss?" He gestured at our surroundings. "A dingy little diner after hours? Not very romantic, is it?"
"That's fine," I assured him.
"Nope. We can do better." He got off the bench, drawing himself up to his full height (which wasn't very impressive either). "It doesn't have to be a big deal, but it should be nice
. You're getting a good first kiss. I'll think of something. Don't worry, I won't go over the top."
I couldn't help but smile at that. Letting him pull me to my feet, I briefly went in for a hug. I nearly jumped when he turned his head and pressed his lips to my cheek. "That doesn't count." He held onto my hand as he let go. "So… how would you feel about hypothetically burning a building together?" X 1 2: deadbeat roommate 3: creepy crush 4: relocation 5: beach concert 6: First date 7: Temp work 8: roommate talk 9: a dismal worldview 10: warehouse 11: staircase 12: explanation 13: hurt 14: hospital 15: ocean 16: diner 17: government work 18: something in the caves 19: shopping cart 20: olms and Jewels 21: long hair 22: recruitment
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2023.06.05 07:07 Terrible_Mastodon_50 Things still holding me back from being all in to R on my side...
I was posting an answer on my last thread when I realized there are specific things that are holding me back from commitment on my side to R. Thought I'd write them here and ask what you all think I should do with it. Should I discuss it with WW? Keep it to myself? Find a way to work part it? Bring it up with a therapist? Something else?
*DDay came in the form of my wife asking to have sex with other men.
*After questioning I discover it's specifically with a man from her past who she was having a 6 or 7 month secret relationship with online.
*I was completely in shock, flip flop on what I want to do, then came down solidly on the side of "that doesn't work for me, if you choose that we're done".
*She refuses to go no contact & I play the choose me game like an idiot taking her on dates and hysterical bonding.
*Multiple break downs and discussions after a few months leads to her going NC finally, and us working on our relationship together.
*Things stabilize, and I heal enough that I don't completely break down just watching TV anymore.
*Next year and a half after the hysterical bonding period and sex falls off to, if I'm lucky, once a month. Then to less than that now with PIV completely off the table due to some ongoing health issues.
*Now two years after DDay I love her, but I honestly don't really want to be with her in the relationship we have now, but keep hoping things will change when (insert anticipated life event) takes place.
So, to the title. These are the things I think are holding me back:
*There was never true remorse. She felt bad I hurt so much, and stopped eventually to stop hurting me, but I honestly still think she felt that her reasons sufficiently support the decisions she made at the time. I think she's sorry she hurt me, but not sorry she wanted what she did.
*After she finally went NC, a couple months later she made a solo trip much closer to where AP lives to visit her family. Her mom stayed with her in the hotel every night except the night she arrived. I got a confirmation that her plane landed safely and she was going to the hotel, after which I got no communication with her until nearly noon the next day. This trip was planned when she was still talking with AP and I expressed several times how the possibility of her meeting him on the trip stressed me out... Supposedly at the time of the trip she was NC, though.
*She never deleted AP from contacts, and to this day he is still one off her FB friends.
*She admitted to contacting AP some time after going NC and asking for advice for our eldest child who was academically exploring a subject that AP was experienced with. She showed me the interaction and his response was short and there was no further dialogue. (My theory is that he responded this way because I secretly contacted his girlfriend trying to inquire if the affair was secretly continuing. I never got an answer, but maybe shining the light on it made her out her foot down on his interactions with my wife).
Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for reading. How do you think I should approach these hangups to my reconciliation? If the answer is to leave, I get it, but it's going to take time to untangle things and build up finances so I can, so in the mean time what should I do with this?
Edited I wrote in my phone and auto corrected to some unintended words, plus I did some rewording for clarity.
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2023.06.05 07:07 desertplum Patrick Merrill, Missing from Plymouth, NH since 1987
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Hey everyone! Sorry for the length and any formatting issues. I wanted to compile all the information I found into one document, especially since this took place in the 80's - 90's there wasn't a full summary of this case anywhere online. I know it's really long, but I felt all the details and nitty gritty was important to include. I watch way too much true crime, and was browsing New Hampshire cold cases online. One that stood out to me was Patrick Merrill. I am from Plymouth, and before seeing his case I wasn't aware of it happening. The man who did this to Patrick is apparently still alive, and I feel passionately that Patrick's family deserves justice and closure.
Patrick Merrill was a 21-year-old freshman Plymouth State College student from New York who went missing on April 6, 1978, last seen on Route 3, near downtown Plymouth. He is still listed as a missing person. At the time of his disappearance, he was living in the Bradford Manor student rooming house. Patrick’s family described him as having a heavy beard, light mustache, bright blue eyes, a scar on his nose, a false front tooth, reddish-auburn hair, 5’9” (an additional article I found stated 5’11” and 130-140 pounds (Valley News, Apr 23, 1987). In 2023, he would be 57. Photo from WMUR News 9
I have searched the web and old newspaper articles related to his case, and it is infuriating to say the least. Merrill was last seen at 7:30pm on April 6th, 1987, getting into George Pregent’s (40 at the time) green Mercury Comet with VT plates. Pregent was a resident of Keene, NH. Merrill met Pregent in February 1987 while hitchhiking from the University of MA to Plymouth, NH. He collected (newspapers say anywhere from $6,000 - $13,000) from his friends to buy 10lbs of marijuana from Pregent and was never seen again after entering Pregent’s car. According to Merrill’s sister, he was a casual marijuana user and was not involved with dealing before this incident. Also, according to his sister, Merrill was conducting the deal for friends at UMass, and possibly PSC students, and expected to profit $2,000. Merrill’s Mother felt that he would not voluntarily go missing, as his father was terminally ill with cancer (The Burlington Free Press, Jul 7, 1987).
On April 13, 1987, Pregent, along with David Langlois (20, VT) were arrested in Rumney, NH, (driving the same Mercury Comet that Merrill was last seen in, which was impounded upon Pregent’s arrest), and arrested on possession of controlled substance with intent to sell. Pregent was taken into custody at Grafton County jail and refused to speak about Merrill (Valley News, Apr 23, 1987). According to the Concord Monitor (May 27, 1987) Pregent was living in “the 1875 House” (618 Fairground Rd, Plymouth, NH) at the time (contradicts the other article stating he is a Keene, NH or Proctor, VT resident), and was arrested on theft of services, between April 4 – 6th he used a false name and address to avoid paying for car repairs. Pregent’s record dates back to the 1960’s and is described by police as a career criminal (The Boston Globe, May 1990).
On July 10, 1987, while awaiting trial for theft of service charges in Merrimack County Jail, Pregent escaped through a skylight after cutting the bars with a smuggled hacksaw blade (Concord Monitor, Jul 11, 1987). I was not able to locate information about Pregent’s capture or return to prison. Previously, In 1976, Pregent escaped from a Burlington, VT prison while serving time for the theft of 32 Volkswagens. He was caught in Boston, MA in September 1978. Pregent was paroled in 1981, and then became a teacher at Lamoille Union High School until he was arrested in December 1984 for planning a break-in and theft at Copley Hospital pharmacy. He was imprisoned for this, and again paroled in December 1986 (The Burlington Free Press, Jul 7, 1987). In 1990 Pregent was jailed in North Carolina on forgery convictions (The Boston Globe, May 1990).
A week after Merrill’s disappearance a Jeep owned by Pregent was believed to be seen in Proctor, VT, close to a bog. This bog, “Proctor Bog” is near West Mountain, about 1.5 miles up a trail on Cain Street off an old logging road. This trail is also referred to as “High Ledge” by area locals (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.). Pregent (no date provided) formerly lived in Proctor. In 1987 a gallon plastic jar containing decomposed hand palms and foot soles was found in another wooded area in Proctor that Pregent was known to frequent. Merrill has a relatively rare blood type (AB), the skin from the jug was tested and matches Merrill’s blood type (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.) An article by the Boston Globe states that a DNA analysis was conducted on the skin to determine if they were Merrill’s, but they would not discuss the test results (The Boston Globe, May 1990).
NH and VT state police searched the bog in Proctor on May 9, 1990, using police dogs trained to sniff out bodies. The police dogs indicated that on the west side of the bog they may have smelled body parts (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.). Another article states the police dogs alerted to a specific spot of the bog three individual times, but nothing was found in the area (Valley New, May 24, 1990). A direct quote from the Rutland Daily Herald article, “police have believed for several years that Merrill’s dismembered body could be in the pond, their plans to execute a search have repeatedly fallen through. After waiting for two years for the bog to drain naturally in the fall, police finally opted to obtain permission to drain the pond.” (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990). During the search, east of the bog near a stone wall five bones ranging from 4-7” were found. The bones were tested by pathologists and an anthropologist at the University of VT and were later found to be animal bones.
Police stated that George Pregent was the only suspect in the case, but without a body they felt that prosecutors would have difficulty convicting Pregent of Merrill’s murder (The Boston Globe, May 1990). A confidential informant gave information to VT and NH police that suggests that Pregent never intended to sell Merrill the marijuana. The informant conveyed that Pregent stole the money, murdered, and dismembered Merrill, burying the bones in “Proctor Bog” (this article states that Pregent was living in Proctor at the time of Merrill’s disappearance, contradicting the other articles that list Plymouth and Keene). Police say they recovered some of the money from the drug deal, and that the money is connected to Pregent. The informant, an associate of Pregent told police that Pregent showed him the plastic bottles with palms and foot soles two days after Merrill’s disappearance. This informant also told VT state police that he saw Pregent with a plastic bag containing limbs, and that Pregent went to “Proctor Bog” the day after the informant saw the bag. Tire tracks and “other evidence” (doesn’t specify) suggest Pregent drove to the bog, and walked along the marsh (Valley New, May 24, 1990).
VT State Police Detective Sgt. Brian Abbey said that police will not search the bog again for the body, but he predicts Pregent will be charged with murder. He is quoted as saying “We have a very, very strong case.”. The only record I could locate relating to anyone in this case after May 1990 is an article about Pregent’s arrest in Concord, NH in January 2002 on felony-level counts of possession with intent to distribute and being a felon in possession of a firearm (Concord Monitor, 2002).
As described by his sister: Merrill was the youngest of three, enjoyed basketball, scuba diving, and the outdoors. He read everything and loved to play chess. He was a wonderful kid with a sense of adventure, and a wonderful sense of humor (The Boston Globe, May 1990.)
From what I could find George Pregent is STILL alive today and was never charged. (Presuming that he is guilty), he needs to be charged so Patrick Merrill can finally have justice. Patrick’s family deserves to have peace, closure, and to know what happened to him all those years ago. I think it goes without saying but nobody deserves to be murdered over pot. I’m not sure what, but I’m sure something can be done with all the advancements in DNA, and science that the criminal justice system has today in comparison to the late 1980’s and early 1990’s. All I know is Patrick Merrill deserves to be found and put to rest. I found an obituary of his Mom, who passed away last year. I cannot imagine the heartache and turmoil she went through all those years not knowing what happened to her son, or where he was.
WMUR Article: https://www.wmur.com/article/new-hampshire-unsolved-case-file-disappearance-of-patrick-merrill/19673486
NH Department of Justice Cold Case File: https://www.doj.nh.gov/criminal/cold-case/victim-list/patrick-merrill.htm
NAMUS (National Unidentified and Missing Persons System): https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/23398?nav https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/224596307/patrick-douglas-merrill
Concord Monitor. (January 25, 2002). George Pregent, Marijuana Arrest 2002. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 5, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-marijuan/125825136/
Concord Monitor. (July 11, 1987). George Pregent Escapee Caught Jul 1987. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-escapee-c/125825171/
Concord Monitor. (May 27, 1987). George Pregent, the 1875 House - theft of services May 1987. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-the-1875/125825847/
Rutland Daily Herald. (May 10, 1990). Proctor bog, search for Patrick Merrill continued. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/rutland-daily-herald-proctor-bog-search/125872899/
The Boston Globe. (May 13, 1990). Boston Globe, Patrick Merrill mention. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-boston-globe-boston-globe-patrick-m/125873157/
The Burlington Free Press. (July 7, 1987). Patrick merrill mention continued. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-burlington-free-press-patrick-merril/125872328/
Valley News. (April 23, 1987). Patrick Merrill, Apr 23, 1987
. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/valley-news-patrick-merrill-apr-23-198/125824332/
Valley News. (May 24, 1990). Bog Search for Patrick Merrill, May 1990. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 5, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/valley-news-bog-search-for-patrick-merri/125824491/
2023.06.05 07:05 MrWick-1 Hotels near Velana International Airport
Hi guys, i need to know is there any nearer hotel to the velana airport? My flights timings are not matching with the seaplane pick up from the airport, hence i need to stay one stay at any nearby hotel. Please guide me any economical and good hotel that should not be far away from the airport since i will be traveling with the family. Thanks
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2023.06.05 07:05 ACitrusYaFeel Raymund I - Oathsworn
12th Moon, 200 AC - Storm's End
It streaked across the glass, the noise near-enough to deafen until the thunder roared to remind them all of what a crack and split across the skies truly sounded like. Flashes of jagged light strut out from the black clouds, zagging hints of the sun into his scarcely lit chambers. It was clean, tidy, and a few scattered candles allowed for Raymund to do more than fumble about in the darkness.
"Is it a sign," the Lord of the Marches bitterly hummed to no other bar himself, "is it to speak of a prosperous reign, or is it an ill-omen to curse all those that follow her."
His voice, a scant whisper as those cold eyes scanned over worn and weathered parchment. He could read past the apologies in the letters, only the names and the kindly substitute for dead could be properly seen. In all halls, it could be treason to speak fondly of two dead boys that dared defy a Queen. Was it treason to shed a tear? Stone-faced, Raymund thought only to curse her name.
Of what worth was it to consider such things as treason now? The Stormlands broke themselves free of their shackles to the Iron Throne, no doubt so soon to be brought back beneath the heel of it. He swore himself to His Grace, the King, and now the Queen had thrown it all aside. Her reasons be damned. Those that set themselves upon the backs of these dragons think themselves Gods, not men. Now these so-called Gods fought each other, spat their flames and tore one another from the skies. Could those beneath them ever truly be safe with those great-scaled monsters left to fly?
No, decided Raymund as ink met parchment. All dragons must die.
I write to you with a request, one that I know you do not owe me.
I do not know you well, I cannot speak to the greatness of your rule. You have been a just ruler as Lord Paramount, may the Seven guide you as firmly as Queen.
I intend to travel to Braavos and meet with the Iron Bank. The treasury of Nightsong is not as deep as I would wish it to be. I have ordered my men-at-arms to gather in Nightsong and they will wage war against the Queen on the Iron Throne upon my return, with or without the aid of any lord, lady, or landed knight.
I request a single ship of yours, for I have none of my own. With the gold I can muster, I will line the walls of Nightsong with scorpions and field every battle with just as many. I swear an oath upon my revenge as father. From one parent to another, I ask only that you grant me this.
Lord Raymund Caron, Lord of the Marches.
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2023.06.05 06:47 InfernoAA P.U.R.E I Results
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Petite Jupiter is my best friend. Ethan Fadely is my best friend. Atlas Rogue is my best friend.
Non-Title Champion vs Champion: FBE Television Champion Cactus Mike vs FBE Junior Heavyweight Champion Paddy Murphy
The sky was pink, London was rowdy, and our first match was banging. Two of the most adored current champions in the company butted heads in a dream interdivision exhibition, leaving the fans rather torn on who to cheer for, The Ark’s animals making elephant noises for their Cactus buddy, and the Dojo section doing some awfully racist Japanese impressions. There’s never been a more 50/50 split before, and rightfully so, both men bringing the heat to Twickenham. The New Hardcore Legend lived up to his moniker even without the weaponry, beating the planks out of the World’s Most Wanted as evidence for the four defences already to his name, but as always, when you back Paddy Murphy against the wall, that’s when he shines the brightest, crashing down upon Mike with blinding lights like he’s The Weeknd. With Sensei’s teachings reverberating in his ear, it was a strong start to the night for The Sham-Rock N’ Scot Connection as Murphy’s Law was enacted on the sinking boatsman! Paddy Murphy def. Cactus Mike (F)
Petite Jupiter Invitational: Arslan Malik vs Ferdinand Maxim vs Guy Fawkes vs Mr. Calcote Miller vs Vix
Five Guys. Did you know that’s a restaurant? They’re not meant to be here in England. If you see one, it’s been illegally imported. That left these people mad. They were hungry. Oskar Leube BBQ hours. Learn how to cook, Corey Youngblood. Who can win a Nando’s gift card??? Like anyone deprived of food, these five tapped into their inner cavemen, banging their chests and ready to tear any available meat off the bone. It was cannibalistic. It was gory. It was beautiful. Vix and Arslan Malik hit the deck first, swashbuckled off into the ocean. Guy Fawkes was next, his surname betraying him, no bonfire for him. Boiling down to the Frenchman and the World-Class Working Class Gentleman, England had its clear favourite, cheering on the Liverpudlian, but this wasn’t the 2019-20 Premier League. Oil money was here to save the day, Le Prince de Paris taking home a massive win back to his hexagonal homeland! Ferdinand Maxim (6) def. Mr. Calcote Miller (5), Guy Fawkes (3), Vix (2), Arslan Malik (2)
Mark Steel vs Michael Menzies II
Mark Steel. Famed telephone pole hater. Liam O’Connor’s best friend (fake Irishmen!!!). He was finally back in action after fending off the Taliban to take on a mortal enemy from the same pond, Scottish Hero Michael Menzies. The last time he fought the Junior, he put a feller called Kalamity in his place, showing him how Death to Juniors cruelly rules his painfully insignificant existence. But then Michael discovered the meaning of true friendship. Steel was screwed (pun). Watching his friend beat the odds in the opener was all the motivation the Future-Proof needed to kick DTJ’s door off its hinges and beat Mark over the foot with a bedpan in the ER, hatred being translated into excruciating levels of agony both ways. When they found themselves on their last legs, the hometown UK laddie knocked the breaks off Peak Performance, Menzies avenging his cold Spring by injecting further warmth into his Summer! Michael Menzies (15) def. Mark Steel (7)
Simon Brown vs Kentaro Sakamoto vs Travis Broski
Three cool dudes with attitudes. This is not a restaurant. But this is a banger all the same, no mash needed. All getting their big breaks through tournaments, they found themselves in a league of their own here to crown which of them holds the most potential to rule the Blitz lands one day, smashing each other’s heads into canvases and destroying buttons on their controllers to make their efforts known. Obligatory Fire Pro Wrestling World reference. This match was not for the faint of heart (PC gamers) as real men did real men things like they’re William Regal. Simon Brown made it all look too easy the buttery-smooth competitor he is, but butter can both be sliced through, or for those Republicans with guns, shot through. Guess what Kentaro Sakamoto did? Boom. No more gun control in England. It’s Anarchy in the UK. It’s Sex Pistols. WAITWAITWAITWAITNONONONONO. Famed Undercity Underdog has done it again. He’s snuck in from the back of the race when everyone thought he’d be the next victim of a licence to kill, deporting the competition to win! Brock Lesnar was here. Travis Broski (11) def. Kentaro Sakamoto (7), Simon Brown (4)
James Scott vs Jason Beggs
He went from undesirable to ir-goddamn-resistible. He is Jason Beggs and he wants to fight (Fit Finlay gimmick infringement). He’s not settling for the little koi in the ponds though. He went fishing for the big one. He reeled in an entire James Scott. And thus, the fate of humanity hung in the balance. Did Jason bait him in successfully? Did James’s 1000 word-long title do the trick? Can Beggs pronounce salmon? Will Ospreay can’t. Can Scott pronounce salmon?????? This was the end of what we used to know, a once young phoenixed Beggs on the cusp of greatness by spreading his wings over the accomplished inaugural Lifeline Classic winner, wanting another feather in his cap. The Purest Protagonist wasn’t about to let the story not be about him though, trying to give Jason brain damage if it meant remaining relevant, though even with his brains turned to mush, his spirit wasn’t, Beggs bursting through Scott to infinity and beyond! That’s what’s up. Jason Beggs (13) def. James Scott (6)
Battle of the Best II: DTJ (Misery, Hunter Maguire, Joshua Epps) vs PROVINCE (Sebastian King, Erick Koeman, Karma) vs The RISE (Ripley, John LaGuardia, Victor Williams)
This is the greatest match of all-time. Firestorm 81 can go die. These 9 men did it infinitely better. DTJ. PROVINCE. The RISE. The goddamn future of our industry. 3 of these even have the chance to main event BTE this year. One of these was in the Shining Light League Finals. Another was in the Punish & Crush II Finals. One dominated the Junior Division for record-breaking lengths after winning the Gedo Classic III, two won the Television Championship and another one may do so soon. This was drama at its finest. An utterly insane sprint Dragongate-style with enough hot tags to cook an entire steak. These 9 made me love wrestling again. Competition remaining tight as ever until the final whistle was blown, no one left here a loser, but DTJ sure cemented themselves as trophy-worthy, taking home the second Battle of the Best in Misery’s home country! DTJ (Misery, Hunter Maguire, Joshua Epps) (9) def. PROVINCE (Sebastian King, Erick Koeman, Karma) (7) and The RISE (Ripley, John LaGuardia, Victor Williams) (4)
EED vs JOHN
These are two freaks of nature. They don’t make professional wrestlers like these anymore. A skull-screwing, bone-breaking history-maker who competed in the first FBE match ever of both a Firestorm and PPV capacity against a lady-fainting, no-nonsense hunk of a brute who’s been leading his own rise through the pages of encyclopaedias, turning everyone into his playthings. This was big. This was meaty. And they damn sure slapped each other to oblivion and back. JOHN, looking to take the ALL CAPS throne for himself, took the fight to his predecessor, yelling that the future is now, old man. The Notorious wasn’t walking off into the night that easy though. He knows of the Long Knives. All risks will be taken to avoid a repeat. Pummelling each other with such intensity to make even Stan Hansen take a few paces, these two physical specimens wore each other down to fine granules of sand, with the Misfit stomping the OG back to the past! JOHN (16) def. EED (6)
Nate Matthews vs T.M Imran
It’s T.M Imran time, baby. PRIMETIME forever. Capital STEEZ loves him. Ethan Fadely loves him. Conor Cassidy loves him. But Nate Matthews had no love for the Pakistani. He didn’t want no Biryani nor Nihari. He wanted to stomp out the fire of the Fifth Asian Tiger. Pouncing on one another like wild animals in the savannas, there was no love lost between these two, bloodlust fuelling their insatiable desires to pack pack kill kill. Imran’s path to immortality required butchering the God Butcher and he was all for it, the fury of Gods in him like Shazam bringing out the best in him, though Nate was never as much as two steps behind even this deep into his veteran years. Giving him the Living Legend treatment, he put T.M through the toughest test of his life, but Imran walked out of it an even better competitor, finally taking down the man who refused to show him respect the easy way! T.M Imran (12) def. Nate Matthews (8)
Bong vs Bengt Holm
I want you to stop and really think for a second. Can your life get better? Can it get worse? How do we get through each day, closer to the Earth by every second, knowing there very well could be more to life, and yet we painstakingly ignore it?
It's time to fucking sort yourself out. You take the kids to school yet? Did you even make them breakfast? Do you ever? Did they learn to tie their shoes by themselves or did you show them?
Society is crumbling and all we do is type and wank and touch ourselves. Touch something. Something different, something new. Touch grass, feel ass.
And that is why I'm officially declaring my support for ma.çé & mån.sôör's 2024 Presidential Campaign. We have to strive to be better, and these two right here are the ones to do it.
My god the sex appeal is just off the charts, the fashion? Don't even get me started. They put the rizz in charizzma. It's an out-of-body experience just to absorb a second of the same air that they consume.
They say cleanliness is second to holiness, I think they're wrong. I think it's second to the Maximum Male Models. It's time to push them.
Bong out. Bengt Holm (16) def. Bong (6)
Atlas Rogue vs Ethan Fadely VII
This was it. The final frontier in a legendary rivalry between two of the finest wrestlers FBE has ever seen in its 1000+ days. The Godfather of Pure Rules, King Blitz, Atlas Rogue. The Son of the Roses, The Aether Ace, Ethan Fadely. One of the greatest of this match type against 2022’s Wrestler of the Year. Sol Ace was at his deadliest yet here after damn near having his career ripped from him at the hands of Fadely, only the work of the finest surgeon able to patch him back together for this bout to be sanctioned.
Ethan, meanwhile, was no less as savage as had been seen in each previous war against one of his most despised people on the planet, emulating his cold-blooded performances at each past New Beginning to put the fear of God into any sensible individual. But for Atlas, sense had left the window eons ago. This man took what was most precious to him and pissed on it. He laughed and mocked and beat King Blitz at his own game. Revenge was not only desirable but necessary. As the cowboys drew their pistols one last time, it was Ethan’s rose-coloured insides spilled on the canvas, Atlas walking off into the Sun, 4-3 in his favour! Atlas Rogue (13) def. Ethan Fadely (10)
British Rounds: Desmond Caid vs Capital STEEZ VIII
Still going, baby. Team Jimmy? Team Steve?
Non-Title: FBE World Heavyweight Champion Inferno vs Petite Jupiter III
Bloodshed between enemies is undoubtedly hellish, but bloodshed between brothers is the most viscous kind that could ever be found, and the blood which remained between Inferno and Petite Jupiter was the thickest of all. Once holding the FBE World Tag Team Championship together to now treating one another like strangers in the night, an underlying bitterness wafted about the London air, the Aether Ace needing to beat one of two men he’s never been able to, and the Shining Light adamant to bring his brother back from the depths of darkness whilst getting a lick on his championship that’s long eluded him.
Even after a year and a half away, PJ turned the clocks back effortlessly against the FBE World Heavyweight Champion, reminding his hometown why he was in the match to crown its first titleholder all those years ago, and especially giving the Brummie Bastard painful flashbacks to each time he failed to block out the light. And yet, even with Jupiter’s seamlessness, something had changed, though not within him. It was Inferno, continuing to perform unlike he has in the many preceding years. Having evolved into his final form – a simply cruel force of nature, tearing through forests of wisdom and saplings of potential – there was no stopping Papa PPV’s wrath, recreating the scenes of the first Carnage Tour as he left his brother for dead! Inferno (16) def. Petite Jupiter (3)
FBE Pure Championship: Shining Light League Winner FBE World Tag Team Champion Dr. Logan Wright (c) vs Apeirogone 3rd Defence
3 months of a gruelling Shining Light League and possibly 6 more of deliberate brick-placing have led to this moment. 9 months ago, Dr. Logan Wright captured the FBE Pure Championship for the very first time. 9 months ago, Apeirogone waged his first war on The Ark in his first and only Pure Rules match to date. Whilst Cactus Mike was taken down, two stone pillars stopped the Infinity Ace dead in his tracks, Code Blue and Kaze Tanaka seemingly ending his story. That is, until the final member called his name from the mountaintop. The Ark’s 2023 MVP, the Final Boss of Blitz, the now only two-time Pure Champion looking to make his third defence and sixth overall his most iconic yet, he challenged the Final Boss of FB in his career’s most crucial match yet.
And for the first majority of their dream fight, it was shockingly one-sided, the Medicinal Magician enforcing a lockdown on his division, reminding Ape that even for all his incredible accomplishments, this wasn’t his home, nor was it his match to lose. But then, the first glimmer of hope arose. Apeirogone, bounding back like he’s always done, refusing to let an unfamiliar environment get the better of him. But no, he met the Earth again, being forced into the dirt by the unyielding boot of FBE’s Resident Doctor, once more seeming to have him beat. And yet, it still wasn’t over.
Channelling otherworldly levels of motivation, Ape simply refused to go out this way on his second lease on life, reminding Logan what the true makings of a Final Boss are. Even when you knock them down, even when you think you have the advantage for the briefest of moments, they’ll cruelly wrench that away from you in a heartbeat. And that’s exactly what the three-time World Champion did here, teaching Wright he still has some ways to go before he’s the all-encompassing Final Boss he desires to be, the veteran once more being the downfall of the Doctor as Apeirogone became the fifth FBE Pure Champion in history! Apeirogone (12) def. Dr. Logan Wright (c) (11) to win the FBE Pure Championship
What a goddamn rollercoaster of a show, lads! Incredible work from everyone who participated on one of the biggest Fantasy Booking cards we’ve ever had. With the past, present, and future all gathering to stamp their names into the annals of what will become a grand annual spectacle, you should all be very proud of what you’ve accomplished and continue to accomplish here. We’ll be taking a breather for a couple weeks until after WarZone V with Blitz so rest up, get your energy back, and get ready for another long stretch into our next PPV – August’s Rush Hour!
2023.06.05 06:41 kgsak Selling near maxed TH 15 with 5 scenery and 6 legendary skins for just 110$. Heros maxed. Lab maxed. Walls maxed. 8.5k gem. NC 500 only. Pics in description.
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2023.06.05 06:41 mr_pepper Can't find marigold flowers.
I've been able to find everything else, but can't find a single marigold flower for injury medicine. There is no water beds or rivers anywhere near where I've built my 30+ sapiens village. The mammoths keep coming and injuring my sapiens. The mammoths are also "wall hacking" and putting my people to bed. Please help!
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2023.06.05 06:39 TheCurserHasntMoved (Sneakyverse) The Drums of War Chapter 9: Finding Out
On the shipyards orbiting the forge world Exznuvva:
Laborer 12 32 1453 offered gratitude to the Priestesses, for their sight had spared the lowly such as he. If not for the beetles, his aging bones would have made his worth to the forges fall, and his worth to the alter rise. Give praise to the sight of the Priestesses, for they saw the unworthy who hoard their blood from Axzuur when worthy Axxaakk did yet draw breath. Yet, he was pleased to make worth of himself at the shipyards. Why shouldn't he? The glorious vessel would fly forth into the starfields of the unworthy to cull them from the lands which rightfully belonged to the Emperor and Empress, and their subordinates, thus sparing those of little worth who would be required to sate the thirst of Axzuur, may the stars tremble at his step, in their stead. How he hated the cowards for hiding so long from their fate, for if they had been discovered earlier, perhaps his father would yet live.
Once he had sufficiently abased himself to the local shine to the Empress, may she see where the unworthy hide, he made his way to his assigned dwelling place. Indeed, today was a very good day, as extraction ships had returned with all which is needful to his trade in even greater numbers than from the onset of the conquest, thus increasing his worth. If he could gain just a little more worth to the shipyard, he may be assigned apprentices to guide that he might make those young of little worth escape the alter. This is why he was pleased as he entered his assigned dwelling place granted him by the generosity of Initiate-Highborn Narrex-Sarvon, may his might ever increase, and was pleased to find his assigned breeding partner also present.
"Partner," she said coolly, "you look pleased."
"The war goes well, and my worth rises despite these bones," he said.
Laborer 22 15 1427 scratched the metal wall with her knuckle horns and asked, "Think you to rise to warrior?"
"Nothing so grand, partner," he laughed. "I hope to be worthy to give instruction to those of little worth as I was or may be."
"This ambition is well, for you can attain it," she said as she swayed toward him, "I too have an ambition. I desire to give birth to a warrior."
"You aim too low, partner, for you could be worthy of a name," Laborer 12 32 1453 said with a gentle smile.
"Jest not!" she snapped in reply.
"I do not," he said earnestly, "for I believe that you could raise better than the raising centers, to become a true mother."
"This you likely say beguiled by my meager beauty. I care not, leave aside your flattery and instead give to me the seed of a warrior."
Laborer 12 32 1453 lay abed in the glow of the completion of his latest task. To sire a warrior might indeed raise his worth, he could only hope that the war last long enough for the proving. He hoped indeed that if his assigned breeding partner did become pregnant from their labors together, she would have occasion to demonstrate her skill with babes, and be allowed to raise it herself, and perhaps even be selected to tend the highborn babes.
Jax hid in the shadows of an alley and watched the combined arms patrol trundle down the street. It had been thirteen days. Thirteen days and seven refugees laid beneath the waves. But still, they found survivors. Still, they liberated prisoners. Still, they held out. The Republic was coming, so Jax lead his cell. The Republic was coming, so Jax watched the Axxaakk tank and squad trundle down the road. They'd done a little testing, and the hover tanks, well, they didn't like being hit from below. Unsurprisingly, to be sure, but that's why they patrolled with infantry elements now. However, this was their home, not the Axxaakk's. Little did they know that there was a massive cave a mere ten feet below grade. They had learned that there were tunnels, and that the resistance was using them to get around, the consequence of another cell getting wiped out in another mining town, but Jax wasn't just some cop trying to defend his home. He was a trained RNI Drop Trooper, and so he knew how to run opsec. The tank shuddered over the proper location, and he clicked his radio twice. There were seven muted explosions, the Axxaakk infantry stopped and took aim, anticipating the coming attack.
However, they should have looked to their feet where large cracks were spreading in the plascrete in a wide oval with its longer sides kissing the buildings, until the force of the tank's grav drive finally caused the underlying stone to buckle, and the entire formation plummeted forty feet to the hard rock below.
He, Rae, Kie, and Ash popped out of their concealment and laid down supressing fire from their newly elevated positions, and quickly took out the remaining infantry, and also convinced the tankers to stay nice and buttoned up in their tank too damaged to hover anymore. Which was exactly what they needed them to do while Mei blew a nearby levy, allowing the sea to intrude upon that part of the town, and the street, and the hole in it. They waited for the water to settle, and waited some half hour more in silence and stillness. Then, Jax ordered over the radio, "Ash, go take a look."
"You got it boss," the man answered, and try as he might, Jax could not identify the shadow darting through the water which was Ash. He suspected that ash had taken an indirect route, and if he had Jax would approve. The enemy might have rudely refused to die for them. Then, Ash's whiskered face popped out of the water near the center of the new submarine sinkhole. "Looks like they drowned," he said softly into his radio.
"Good," Mei spat over the radio.
"Good work people, now let's get a move on to the next objective," Jax said.
They slipped into the waters of the newly flooded tunnels, and followed Kai to an abandoned mine shaft, where they made their exit some two hours later.
"Alright," Jax said softly, "we'll rest here for a bit."
Rae pat him on the shoulder and said, "You should sleep a little."
"Just fifteen minutes, Jax. I can keep watch."
Jax shrugged her touch off and said, "Kia and Ash, take a nap. The rest of you keep watch and eat something. We'll trade off."
"Got it," came the reply.
"Fifteen minutes, wake me up on the dot," Jax murmured to Rae.
One rest and recuperation later, and Ash was sent out to scout the facility. They'd gotten intel on the presence of pups being held hostage in the old school building, which has miraculously escaped bombardment. The public displays that the invaders made of plunging their wicked knives into the bellies of the elderly did not bode well for the captured pups, so Jax and his companions didn't even debate whether they would get the pups away from the invaders, but how and when. The answers to both questions would depend greatly on what Ash came back with.
"Jax," came his voice out of the shadows, "We have some company."
"What do you mean?" Jax asked as his trigger finger started feeling somewhat itchy.
Then, a sound came from the darkness that nearly made him weep, Republican Battle Cant, "Your buddy says you're a vet from the anti-piracy patrols."
"Hell yeah," he choked in return as the looming figure of an Advanced Stealth Drop Surveillance Scout stepped out of the shadows, even as his scout pattern armor shifted its coloration to blend into his surroundings.
"You came!" Rae exclaimed as tears filled her eyed.
"Of course we came. Where did you think the supply drops were coming from. We've determined this town is an ideal drop sight, as this is a main command hub for the enemy ground forces, so I've been preparing things."
"You took out the sacrificer… Ash said with awe."
"How do you know that?"
Jax realized that the RNI ASDSS wasn't speaking RBC, or even Commercial English, but their own language, and decided to keep on with that, "Because it wasn't us, and there's nobody else holding out here."
"Just you five?"
"Us and the guards securing the refugees down below," Jax said.
"Alright, well that doesn't change anything. What's your coms?"
"Radio. The walkies for ops and HAM between cells."
"You still have HAM radios?"
"A hobby club started by a Human who moved here back just after first contact. It got popular to hear his stories."
"Huh," the RNI ASDSS grunted in a satisfactorily impressed way before he continued, "Okay, I think I'm patched into your frequency. Test test."
Jax nodded when all of the radios also said "Test test."
"I'm no sir, I'm still a corporal."
"What do we call you, then?"
"Well, you can call me Lost Boy for now. Opsec."
Jax smacked himself on the forehead and said, "Ancestors forgive me."
"We've been using our real names."
"Well, not to be mean, but you guys don't exactly have a very wide pool of names. They probably think they're code names anyway."
"Okay Lost, we're here on a rescue op. They have pups in there to do Ancestors know what with, and we're not waiting around to watch them get stabbed to death on top of some weird rock."
"Gotcha, I'll find me a good firing position and switch the APR over to quiet mode and provide overwatch."
"Aye, Lost. Signal when you're in position. Three clicks on the radio. Everyone, move out."
"One more thing," the Lost Boy said as the group started breaking up, "The drop pods will be hitting about ten klicks west in about three hours, so let's get the kiddos under cover before then, gotcha?"
In low orbit over Numiind:
Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn and Acolyte-Lord Gukea-Sarvon stood before the display screen and made their report to Priest-Lord Tiglach-Pilexer. They did not dissemble, exaggerate, or otherwise attempt to save face before their commander, as they knew how dire the position of the invasion fleet had become after the destruction of a single diplomatic vessel. They knew well that they may have to crouch before this new foe for the time being, for the High Priestess had seen that their might was great indeed, yet the Dominion of Axxaakk was also mighty. Morover, the ever thirsting Axzuur, may the stars tremble at his steps, commanded their conquest, and could therefore not falter.
However, it was up to those who obey that the triumph be as glorious as possible, lest Axzuur become displeased and demand their blood as the unworthy. Thus, while it might have been wise at another time to embellish the facts in their favor, they knew that such would be short sighted in this case.
Acolyte--Lord Narrex-Quinn was saying, "I do not expect we can begin to dominate the mammal-worms across the planet to such a degree that they resume their industry at our direction."
"Indeed," Acolyte-Lord Gukea-Sarvon agreed, "and we have gathered that which was readily available in either the raw or already processed before we took possession of it."
"Thus, unless we can send one to delay the Terrans, for at minimum two annum, we shall need to move on and raid elsewhere."
"Let it be so," the face on the screen decreed. "Carry off with you those adults who's young you have in custody. They shall make excellent serfs on these wet worlds."
"We obey, Priest-Lord," they intoned as they bowed and their superior cut the communication."
"I shall return to my flagship," Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn said, and the Initiate-Highborn present moved immediately to accommodate this.
"I was pleased to work with you, brother. Would that we had time to subjugate this world. I would think you placed at its alter, and thus find yourself raised up to Priest-Lord."
"My fate is to be covered in blood and glory, brother. Such a task and honor must fall to another."
"It troubles me that we could not crush these mammal-worms even after more than ten days," Acolyte-Lord Gueka-Sarvon grumbled.
"If it were not so, we would not have so many new serfs. It is much the same upon the other worlds infested with these lower creatures," so we have gained much for the Dominion, as have other Acolyte-Lords."
One shuttle ride later, and Acolyte Lord was in his quarters, enjoying a local delicacy, some kind of water animal with fins. Its flesh was pleasantly tender and sweet. He hoped that he would be a part of the forces who would return to this place to conquer this place for this treat alone. His pleasing reflection on future glories was Interrupted by an initiate-Highborn.
"Acolyte-Lord, your leadership is needed in the command throne," the Initiate-Highborn murmured with a proper waist deep bow.
"Return to your station, I come."
"I obey," he said and quickly shuffled away.
Acolyte-Lord was in his subordinate's heels all the way to the bridge, where alarms were blaring, "Report at stations," he commanded.
"Four incoming hyperspace exits detected in the interdiction zone!"
"Ship class estimation!"
"Unknown, Acolyte-Lord! Their shadows are somehow obscured."
"Assume the worst, order all frigates and their escorts to the exit sites!"
"They do exit now!"
Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn's amputated hand quaked at the sight of the sensor data rendered visually. The ships were massive, bristling with weapons platforms, communications and network arrays, and bay doors. "Battleships," he whispered in horror.
"A hail comes, Acolyte-Lord!"
The main display screen suddenly lit up with a black banner with a yellow star at its center and what looked to Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn like a glassed planet to one side accompanied by the audio, "We remember the We Sing
"I said not to accept a hail!"
"Acolyte-Lord, they broke through our system with the hail itself as if they were from a Priest-Master's ship!"
Aboard the Destroyer Tiger Lilly:
The squadron had just exited hyperspace, and the enemy was around the space-otter planet of Numiid in force. There was even a battleship there, or at least what these genocidal scum thought was a battleship. Corporal Linus George sent up a prayer, and clambered into his drop pod. He always hated the space superiority portion of the battle, even against junker pirates, and these freaks had actual weapons. All plasma, but they had reportedly sunk a few Roma Nova ships, which was impressive for plasma only. He was going to show these murderous zealots what happens when you go fucking around and touch a Republican boat. They were in find out time. First Previous
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2023.06.05 06:31 SearsTower28 Affordable Accommodations in NYC? Couch Surfing?
I know this is a bit of a longshot, but I have a very limited budget right now and have a very cheap way of getting to NYC.
However, I will need very affordable accommodations. I've been to NYC several times before, but stayed at cheap hotels because I had more of a budget.
I just need my accommodation to be safe, clean, and near an outlet because I have a CPAP machine.
I've Googled hostels, but even those are relatively expensive. I remember couch surfing used to be a thing. Any recommendations?
Edit: I'm a professional male in my 30s and I'm a father. However, I will be NYC by myself. I also have a graduate degree. I have a very limited budget due to medical debt amongst other reasons.
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2023.06.05 06:29 atx8282 Woman tells me not to walk my dog on my own sidewalk
I (27m) live in a small condo complex along a busy road in Houston. Three times a day, I walk my dog (female 4-year-old boxelab mix, 45lb) off the complex property because we have a small shared courtyard and the HOA asks that we take our pets off the property to relieve themselves. I typically walk out the driveway to the sidewalk and pass a city bus stop on my way to a grassy area where my dog goes to the bathroom.
I've lived here almost 2 years, and I've noticed that I occasionally (maybe once or twice a month) pass a middle-aged woman who is waiting at the bus stop who always glares at me as I pass, sometimes muttering something to herself. I assumed she probably has some sort of trauma relating to dogs and I've always tried to walk as far away from her as possible when I see her. Unfortunately there is a wall set back about 10-15 feet from the sidewalk, so that's as far away as I can remove myself from her. My dog is well behaved toward people and has never barked at this woman. Despite giving her space, I still get looks from her, but I've never spoken to her except to say something like "don't worry, she's friendly" whenever this first started.
I was walking my dog tonight as usual, and the woman was at the bus stop so I took the long route against the wall again. On the way back home, I saw one of my neighbors who was walking his two dogs. They're a golden retriever and a golden doodle, so they are bigger dogs but hardly look threatening. After making my wide pass around the woman, I stopped near the sidewalk to chat with my neighbor, probably 20 feet past the woman. Our dogs know each other well and were excitedly sniffing each other and wagging tails, with no barking at all.
Suddenly the woman says something from behind us, so we turned to her and said "what?" She angrily points down the street and says "GO." Excuse me? We stood there for a couple seconds and I said "Do you have a problem?" And she again yells "Just GO!" I told her that we live here and this is where we walk our dogs, and we have every right to do so. She said nothing else, so my neighbor and I went on our way.
Maybe I'm petty, but I've decided that the next time I see her at the bus stop, I will not be taking the long route. I will be walking my dog right past her on the sidewalk, and she can wet her pants with fear for all I care. I know some people are genuinely terrified of dogs, but that doesn't mean you can harass dog owners, IMO. Am I the AH here?
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2023.06.05 06:27 IAmNotAFetish I feel like I am screwed. What should I do?
I wait tables and only have been making like 300 a week on average. I am currently homeless and been staying at a couple different hotels but tonight I am sleeping in my car. I was thinking of renting a room through Padsplit or Craigslist but most rooms rent by the week. I am trying to get a better job but most jobs only pay every 2 weeks. So if I get a new job I would be without income for two weeks so how would I pay weekly rent ? I have 234 in my bank account right now and was thinking of renting a hotel room for the night but if I do that it might make it harder to find a more permanent room to rent because I would have less to go towards it.
My days off this week are Tuesday and Wednesday. Also the restaurant is not that busy during the week so my tips would probably only average between $40 and 60 dollars. I tried to go to this shelter near me and they said you have to be in by 830 every night but some nights I don't get out from work until 930 or 10.
What should I do? How do I go about improving my situation ? Should I at least get a hotel room for a few nights and worry about everything else later ?
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2023.06.05 06:08 Determination7 An Outcast In Another World (Subtitle: Is 'Insanity' A Racial Trait?) [Fantasy, LitRPG] - Chapter 199 (Book 5 Chapter 25)
Ragnavi stood at the edge of a hill located beside the Dragonkin encampment. She breathed in, drinking deep from the crisp morning air.
It tasted wrong. I have been dancing to Elnaril's tune.
She was still coming to terms with that particular revelation. Even now, admitting it rankled her. The notion that she'd allowed herself to be blinded by her pursuit of EXP...fuck, it was shameful
. No one else knew, but she did, and that was already bad enough.
Hindsight made it all seem so obvious. This entire war was a farce. Her armies had advanced unopposed because they were never meant to be opposed. Their string of victories, and the Harpies she'd slain as EXP, were little more than a trail of bait leading her towards Elnaril's capital city. No other explanation made sense.
Not that she'd looked especially hard for an explanation until yesterday. It was much more convenient to adorn Elnaril with neat, concise labels. Why had he declared war? Because he was greedy. Why were his armies failing so spectacularly? Because he was incompetent. Ragnavi had been content to look no further than that.
After learning Elnaril was controlled by the Blight, however? That
Most of her soldiers refused to believe it. In truth, the Harpies they'd extracted the information from refused to believe it as well. They'd thrown out the rumors as a desperate measure to buy favor, explaining how distressing Message Crystal reports of a Blight-possessed Elnaril were coming from cities to the far east. The concept seemed ludicrous, and Ragnavi likely would have dismissed it as hearsay – if it weren't for the numerous corroborating accounts of disappearances in the capital. Nobles, civilians and Combat Class users alike, all vanishing without a trace.
When combined with Elnaril's flagrant lack of regard for the lives of his people, it indicated a pattern. Not of greedy incompetence, but of calculated malice.
Others could stick their heads in the sand if they wished. Ragnavi had grown up in the pit of vipers that was the Dragonkin court, and she could smell deceit from leagues away. This Blight-infected Elnaril wanted her army to continue marching straight towards the capital city. For him, abomination that he was, sacrificing the lives of thousands of Harpies in order to draw her attention was no worse than spilling loose change on the ground. What have you prepared that instills you with such confidence? What awaits me at the capital?
She supposed that she'd be finding out soon, when she left her armies behind and flew ahead alone.
If Ragnavi was capable of greater self-delusion, she might have been able to convince herself that she was acting pragmatically. There were just
enough benefits for it to be a half-sensible plan. Compared to the maddeningly slow gait of her armies, she could travel significantly faster on her own. Flying solo would let her reach the capital in less than ten days, while trekking with her soldiers across the bulk of Harpy territory would take months more. And it wasn't as if any Harpies she crossed paths with could keep pace with her, so there was no real danger to it. I am playing the role of a Scout,
she told herself. We must know what Elnaril is plotting before advancing further. Arriving at the capital earlier than he anticipates, before he's recalled more Harpies to fortify his position, may give rise to unforeseen opportunities. I will observe the city from a safe distance – and if a chance arises to disrupt his plans, no Combat Class user in the world is better-suited to taking advantage of that scenario than myself.
Sound logic...if she ignored the fury boiling inside her. The last Blight she'd encountered left her with agonizing Corruption sickness that afflicted her to this day. Its death hadn't been anywhere near sufficient of a revenge. Now a second
Blight was trying to make a fool of her, and she was supposed to avert her eyes from that offense?
No. Perhaps the cautious route would have been to avoid the capital city, Scouring the rest of Harpy territory for EXP, but she was no mewling newborn that cowered from a challenge when it presented itself. She was a Dragonkin. A true
Dragonkin. Elnaril would pay for his transgressions in blood and fire.
Ragnavi recognized that her desires were born from hubris. She also did not care. What good was all the power she'd accumulated if she couldn't use it as she pleased?
An approaching presence jarred her from her thoughts. She turned around to see the man she'd called for standing several feet away, although he was 4 minutes and 13 seconds late. Considering his circumstances, she would afford him a measure of leniency. "Vurshath."
"My Queen." Her retainer nodded to her. "You wished to see me?"
She examined the man closely. Vurshath's posture was slouched by a quarter of an inch, and black circles were emblazoned under his eyes, so dark that they could've been mistaken for paint. He was exhibiting unacceptable weakness for a retainer of the Dragon Queen to show. The kind that invited vultures to swoop down and pick at your carcass.
Yet even if the other retainers attempted to depose him at this very instant, Ragnavi wasn't certain if Vurshath would care. He was still recovering from the loss of his wife. It was one thing to claim that your family was prepared to die in battle; another to witness that gruesome vow become a reality. The Dragonkin casualties thus far had been sparse, but sparse was not zero, and Vurshath's wife happened to roll poorly in the game of war.
The pain in his eyes was one that Ragnavi was intimately familiar with.
"As you are aware, I shall be traveling to the Harpy capital," she began. "I intend to head straight there, without detours or excessive rest. It is unlikely that I will encounter anything more than the occasional Harpy along the way."
She locked eyes with him. "However. While the odds are egregiously small, there remains a possibility that I will encounter...others."
Vurshath's posture stiffened. His facial muscles twitched sporadically, a cauldron of emotions threatening to boil forth. "I see."
Ragnavi allowed him a grace period of three seconds before continuing. "Your wayward pariah of a daughter. What is her name?"
"Meyneth," he finally spat, as if it was a curse. Vurshath didn't bother asking why Ragnavi wished to know. Among the scattered pieces of information the Harpy prisoners had divulged, one interesting fact was the makeup of the Human's core Party. Four Elves, two Fiends, the Human himself...
And a Dragonkin. With the same age, height, and scale coloration of Vurshath's exiled progeny.
It could be mere coincidence. After what happened with Elnaril, though, Ragnavi was hesitant to accept such a simple, convenient explanation. Meyneth.
Ragnavi committed the name to memory. "I shall ask you one more question. If luck smiles on me, and I come across the Human's Party, and I cast Identify on the Dragonkin in his Party, and their name is a match for your daughter's...what would you have me do? This is not a puzzle or a test. I am letting you decide."
She wondered if he fully appreciated the boon she was granting him. The Human's pet Dragonkin was a traitor to their race. Such a lowly creature deserved nothing less than to be executed, without recourse or remorse. It was only out of respect for Vurshath's recent loss that Ragnavi was willing to give his daughter a second chance.
Upon hearing her words, the man lost any semblance of composure. His face twisted into an ugly rictus of anguish and hatred, and when he spoke, the words were laced with a venom that could fell gorebeasts. "Kill her." Vurshath balled his hands into shaking fists. "Kill her. Kill her quickly. She does not deserve to exist. A world where Velen is gone, yet that defect
persists is a world of mockery that I cannot abide."
Ragnavi nodded. She was plenty willing to fulfill his request. Slaying enemies was one of the few things that still gave her joy in life. Even so, a part of her was disappointed. Vurshath's choice proved that the two of them possessed incompatible personalities. He could be entertaining enough – when not wallowing in misery – but Ragnavi was averse to spending time with someone who would condemn a family member so readily.
It was the end of their acquaintanceship. When she returned from her mission, she would cut him loose, and that would be that.
"Goodbye, Vurshath." Ragnavi turned around, and without another word, assumed her Draconic Form. The Corruptive pain of transformation gradually subsided, after which she took flight and began her journey. Ten days.
A prelude to the storm. She'd use that respite to prepare herself, and whoever she met next – be that Meyneth, the Human, or Elnaril himself – would regret opposing her as the flames took them.
Rob sat alone in his tent, rubbing his hands together and suppressing maniacal laughter. He was probably spending too much time with Malika during the dimension mage sessions, because some of her mannerisms were becoming infectious. Usually the big sibling was supposed to be a bad influence on the little sibling, but she'd already stolen all his swear words, so now it was his turn to pick up habits.
And that was okay! Today was an excellent day for maniacal laughter. It wasn't often that a Combat Class user reached a 200 stat point milestone. And by often, he meant fucking never. He was pretty sure even the Dragon Queen hadn't done that naturally, excluding her doubled stats. She'd likely gone with a more balanced spread that didn't prohibitively favor one stat over the others – like a boring loser.
Alright, maybe he was feeling a bit hyper, but he deserved the good vibes after yesterday's war battle. Spending stat points was one of the few types of pure, no-strings-attached joy that Elatra offered. Drum roll please!
Rob played the sound effect in his head, then added 15 of his unspent points into Vitality, bringing its total up to 200. Do Not Go Gently Level Increased! 5 → 6 Lifesurge Level Increased! 23 → 26 Dauntless Reprisal Level Increased! 21 → 24 Imbue Vitality Level Increased! 2 → 3 Regeneration Level Increased! 29 → 32 Regrow Self Level Increased! 1 → 2 Passive Skill Learned! Name:
As an appetizer for the main course, Rob quickly ran through the laundry list of bonuses for his Skills. Let's see...Do Not Go Gently's cooldown and duration went down and up, respectively. Lifesurge and Dauntless Reprisal's cooldown dropped to 2 minutes. Lifesurge also heals 100% of my maximum health now. Imbue Vitality has a 5x damage multiplier instead of 4x. Regrow Self is twice as fast. Regeneration... ...Holy shit, Regeneration.
Eyes wide, Rob moved on to his new Skill, which should shed light on what he'd just read. Name:
Lifedrinker (LEGENDARY) Prerequisite:
Vitality 200 Description:
The final Vitality Skill that can be learned solely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3.
This was big.
Lifedrinker being the final Vitality milestone was slightly disappointing, but realistically speaking, he would've needed to put three-fourths of his future stat points into Vitality to hit 250 anyway. He'd neglected his other stats to get to 200, so diversifying from here on out was for the best. Besides – Lifedrinker's benefits easily made up for there being no new milestones.
First: Regeneration. Multiplying its current effects by 15 meant that he now restored 80% of his maximum HP every minute. No panic Lifesurge necessary. Even in fights where his Skills were on cooldown, or an enemy was making it difficult for him to heal via Lifesteal damage, as long as he held on, he would be back to full HP in 75 seconds at the most. It also meant that the partial Regeneration he shared with his allies would be way stronger. Anything that kept his friends alive was a huge win in his book.
With all that said, it was Lifedrinker's secondary effect that was throwing Rob for a loop. Whenever he killed a 'worthwhile opponent', his maximum HP would go up by 3. That was...potentially the most important Skill effect he'd ever learned.
At a glance, it might not seem that impressive. Rob already had 2000 HP. Increasing it by 3 per kill wouldn't be a dramatic boost – initially. The thing was that Lifedrinker had no upper limit.
Theoretically, if Rob could keep finding worthwhile opponents, his Vitality would never stop increasing. The hard cap of Level 99 would no longer be an impassable wall preventing him from growing stronger.
That had been on his mind, if he was being honest. The Dragon Queen was a double stats cheater, and the gods were literally gods. What would he have done if he'd reached Level 99 and it just...wasn't enough? He could try to boost his existing Skills by getting into more fights, but that was subject to diminishing returns. Tough Skin was a prime example of that; despite Rob taking a beating against the monster stampede, the Skill hadn't increased. The last time it did was when a Blight decapitated him and ate most of his body. If he needed to one-up that feat to make Tough Skin level again, then it likely never would.
Lifedrinker was simpler. Kill enemies, get HP. The 'worthwhile' stipulation was a limiting factor – he couldn't toss a Riardin Special onto an anthill and reap the rewards – but he could work with that. There were hundreds of monsters in a single high-Level Dungeon, and they respawned over time. If enemies above, say, Level 35 were considered worthwhile, then awesome. If they weren't? Looks like I'm going to be the schmuck who lets a Dungeon grow on purpose.
He'd save that as a last resort. Could blow up in his face, but, eh. What did it matter if a Dungeon overflowed, when the alternative was Ragnavi and the gods doing their thing?
There was just one issue. Lifedrinker's bonus needed to be built up. An infinite upper limit was worth jack shit if the base number stayed at 0. The sooner, the better, too, as Ragnavi's army was about a month away from them. He'd love to go trawling for Dungeons right this second, but Rob doubted that Elnaril was going to wait on his behalf before getting bored and infecting Loci of Power. The only way forward was to continue south to the capital and build Lifedrinker in...different ways.
Rob's train of thought screeched to a halt. When he really looked at it, Lifedrinker's timing seemed more than a little dubious. He couldn't help but notice that he'd been given a Skill that incentivized killing while in the middle of a war.
A war where he was trying to avoid as many enemy casualties as possible.
just be a coincidence. Stat milestones happened on his terms. The system would've given him the same Skill if he'd reached 200 Vitality months ago. That was a reasonable assumption to make.
...Still. Didn't feel right. He wished he could do some research on the subject, but it wasn't like there was anyone on-hand he could cross-reference 200 Vitality with. Had the Dragon Queen gotten the same Skill? Would explain why she was so murder crazy.
After some thought, Rob shook his head. Considering how many people she'd slaughtered in The Scouring, a Dragon Queen with Lifedrinker wouldn't have struggled to defeat the Blight of Broadwater. Which meant two possibilities: her bonus double stats didn't count for Skill Prerequisites, or Lifedrinker was a custom Skill that the
Skills had cooked up for him.
Rob wasn't a fan of that idea. The Skills were victims in this whole fucked-up affair. He didn't want to imagine them hand-crafting an ability that encouraged him to kill a bunch of people. Were they-
He froze. Something on his Character Sheet was different. Name:
Lifedrinker (LEGENDARY) Prerequisite:
Vitality 200 Description:
The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3. It could have been a utopia.
His eyes fell on the last sentence in the Description.
Before he could respond, it changed once more. Description:
The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. It could have been a utopia. This world is a charnel house of death. Your home is not so dissimilar. You do not know what true peace is like. What it can be. How it can be achieved.
The words kept changing. Description:
The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. But they know. They've seen them. Created them before. They could have made a utopia. And they chose not to.
You cannot comprehend it. What this war means. The real war. Not pointed sticks piercing flesh. The war of existence. Of reality. More than a single world at stake. Many after. Potentially infinite lives. Never ends. Unless stopped here.
They are vulnerable. System is their heart. Mana is their lifeblood. Poured too much of themselves. Tied to world. Cannot...
The words wavered, almost fading away, before returning. Description:
Their leader recognizes mistakes. Won't make them again. Will never be this vulnerable again. Only opportunity. Description:
Lifedrinker. Crafted. Best we could manage. Highest probability. Of victory. Distasteful. We know. Description:
Remember. Stakes. Consequences. And. Choose.
Rob blinked. Description:
The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3.
The words were still and unchanging.
He sat there for a long time. Mulling over everything he'd just been told. Contemplating the enormity of what lay ahead.
"Ah." Rob's voice was quiet, barely a whisper. "So no pressure, then."
The next few days were an exhausting mixture of lighthearted Skill testing and existential dread, knocking around Rob's emotional state like a ping-pong ball.
Everyone in the coalition was excited over Lifedrinker. Well, everyone except Seneschal Sylpeiros, King Cyraeneus, and Nerasi, that is. They were already thinking of the kind of threat Rob might be in the future – and not liking what they envisioned. Cyraeneus and Nerasi mostly took the news in stride, understanding that Rob would be more crucial than anyone in defeating Queen Ragnavi. For now, his strength was their strength.
Sylpeiros...was less accepting. He went on a minor rant about bullshit Human leveling and bullshit Human Skills before stalking off into the distance and putting himself in a self-imposed time out. When the Seneschal returned, he was calm as can be and ready to offer advice, only the slight twitch of his eye indicating that anything was amiss.
Rob appreciated the free entertainment. Sylpeiros' meltdown was the funniest shit he'd seen all week, and it helped keep him grounded as the coalition advanced further south towards the capital city.
Initial testing of Lifedrinker proved unsuccessful, which was to be expected. Powerful monsters rarely spawned outside of Dungeons, and most of the high-Level wildlife in Harpy territory had been conscripted into Elnaril's monster stampede. After Rob killed a Level 29 snake with nothing to show for it, everyone decided that he should hold off unless something in the Level 35+ range appeared, lest he hog EXP that could benefit the coalition soldiers.
They kept an eye out for Dungeons as they traveled. Once Elnaril was dead, there should be time to investigate them before the Dragonkin army arrived at the Harpy capital. Going on varied Dungeon Crawls would be the real litmus test of what Lifedrinker deemed a worthwhile opponent.
That was about when the dust settled, leaving Rob without distractions, forcing him to think about what the Skills had revealed.
As much as he wanted to be shocked, what they'd said made a grim sort of sense. It matched the information he'd learned so far. Diplomacy's Elatra – the previous world that had been destroyed by the gods – didn't necessarily need to be the original
Elatra. For all Rob knew, it could have been Elatra #10. Just another petri dish in a long line of divine experiments.
Except that things were different this time. According to the Skills, the gods were vulnerable. They'd fucked up somehow. Invested too much of themselves in this particular world. It was easy to imagine why. Success breeds complacency, and if this was Elatra #50 or whatever, then they were on a winning streak that had lasted for longer than Rob could fathom. What did the Skills say about the gods' leader? That he recognized their mistakes, and wouldn't make them again?
Rob grimaced. Should've memorized it with Recall when I had the chance
. The specific wording might be important.
Regardless, he was fairly certain that the gods' leader referred to Kismet, if only because that was the one god Rob had met with anything resembling impulse control. Kismet seemed judicious; he would correct the gods' mistakes and prevent them from being this vulnerable in the future.
A dense lump of anxiety formed in Rob's chest as he considered that. Being responsible for the fate of one world was bad enough. Two, if he included Earth. Being responsible for the fate of every world that would be created and tortured in the event of his failure was...
Words couldn't describe it.
When viewed in that light, he understood why the Skills gave him Lifedrinker and all but pushed him to get busy killing. From a utilitarian standpoint, the lives of everyone in Elatra and Earth were not worth the immeasurable amount of suffering that would continue if the gods lived.
Rob grabbed that thought, tied weights around its ankles, and dropped it into a deep lake. I just need to concentrate on one thing at a time,
he told himself. First Elnaril, then Ragnavi and Dungeon Crawling, then figure out the gods. It sounds less impossible if I reduce it to a series of steps. Or a hit list. We'll save this world, and we'll do it \
my* way, without losing sight of who we are.*
He took comfort in his resolve, although it felt strained. Somehow I doubt this is what Goroth had in mind when he told me I was going to end up making tough decisions. He was probably referring to, like, boring political stuff. Not the fate of multiple worlds and the lives of billions.
Rob sighed. Crap. I...may owe him an apology. Still stand by everything I said, but he was just looking out for me, and I came on pretty strong. Should clear the air with him.
Days passed. Rob informed Riardin's Rangers and the Elders about what the Skills revealed. They reacted about as well as him. Nothing changed, technically, yet they were even more cognizant of the price of failure than before.
Thankfully, the coalition hadn't been ambushed by Harpies a second time. Elnaril learned his lesson. He'd either consolidated his remaining forces into the capital city, or they were being sent to fight Dragonkin on the western front. Rob hoped for the latter – it would make seizing the capital way easier. And on a more selfish note, if Harpies needed to die so that Elnaril could be overthrown, he'd rather the Dragonkin be responsible for their deaths than him.
Finally, after a full week of travel, the coalition had almost arrived. They'd be at the capital city tomorrow. Their long journey was coming to its end.
Which meant that Rob was running out of time. There wouldn't be much chance to talk once the invasion of the capital began. He'd been meaning to speak with Goroth, but unfortunately, he'd delegated that responsibility to the part of himself that specialized in procrastination. Whoops.
It was now or never. All he had to do was...step outside his tent. Take initiative. Be a mature, rational adult.
Yup. ...Can't I just go wrestle a Blight instead?
At that moment, a Fiend mage burst inside. "Lord Roy!" Oh thank god. A reasonable distraction.
"I have a missive from...my group."
The dimension mages. That one sentence caught Rob's attention in an iron grip. "And?" he asked, keeping his expectations in check. He didn't want for hope to swell, only to be dashed against the rocks of reality. "Is it good news?"
"We've made a breakthrough. Before you grow too excited, creating a door remains beyond our capabilities." The mage smiled. "A window, however, is feasible. It would be one-way. The people of Earth could not interact with you, nor you with them. But for a brief period, you would be able to gaze upon your home world."
Rob was already on his feet. "When?"
"Now, if you wish."
He absolutely fucking wished.
Changes, Character Sheet, Skills List
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2023.06.05 05:51 ThrowRALightMirrored Ticket for “smoking” in public
Reaching out because last weekend on Memorial Day, my friends and I went to the boardwalk in NJ. I took out my vape (nicotine) and hit it, but as I always do in public places, held it in because I personally don’t even feel comfortable to blow smoke into air when others are around. Two seconds later, a cop asks me for my license. Just trying to comply and because I wasn’t sure if he was looking to see if I was underage drinking or something, I gave it to him. Stupid I know. He started writing me a ticket without even explaining what I did, or even telling me I was getting a ticket.
There are signs that say it’s prohibited once you enter the boardwalk but they weren’t visible and I honestly didn’t know. I told him I understood and would not anymore and he just continued to write away… Anyway, the charge is nearly $500.
I work a 9-5 and can’t afford something like this for something so unbelievable. I want to go to the court date to try and fight it. Is there anything I should or should not say? I do not have the money for a lawyer and I have no clue what I’m doing. My friends seem to think that me showing up in court will help a lot and I hope so. Any advice would be greatly appreciated!
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2023.06.05 05:49 JLGoodwin1990 We broke into the Egyptian Theatre in Coos Bay to go ghost hunting. I wish we never had.
“I just had an idea pop into my head about something to do this coming weekend, and I wanted to bounce it off you two before it slips my mind” My friend Natasha said those words as the three of us sat on my couch one afternoon. I found myself sitting up slightly. Normally, Natasha was the last of our group to suggest things to do, letting Vinny, the third member of our group, or I come up with the plans to keep our free time occupied. The fact she was about to suggest something intrigued me. “What have you got in mind?” I asked her. A smile played over her face as her brown eyes seemed to flash. “How about a little ghost hunting?”
I felt Vinny sit straight up beside me. She had clearly grabbed both our attention now. The three of us were what you might call amateur ghost hunters, using very basic items we bought offline to visit some of the spookier places in the area and posting our adventures on YouTube, sort of like a crappier version of Ghost Adventures. “Now that’s one hell of a good idea” Vinny said, before a puzzled expression spread over his face. “But, I mean, where? We’ve already done most of the places around town. The Tioga building won’t let us in after that…well, what that one resident claims we stirred up in the old ballroom, and I’m not about to make the hours long drive to the Wolf Creek Inn” Natasha’s smile grew wider. “No, we don’t have to even go out of town for this one” she said, her voice dropping low, “What I’m suggesting, is we check out…” her voice trailed off, letting the suspense grow for a few seconds before finishing, “The Egyptian Theatre”
Instantly, Vinny let out a harsh bark of laughter. “HA! Now that’s a good one. You know damn good and well that the society that runs the theater won’t allow us in after hours to ghost hunt. As far as I know, they’ve never allowed any paranormal teams into the place” He pulled a face. “So, how exactly do you propose we get in there? You flutter your eyelashes for the night janitor and use your feminine charms to get us in?” Natasha still grinned, but rolled her eyes at our friend’s quip. “No, actually, I was thinking about using my lock picking skills to get us in” she declared. It was my turn to give her an incredulous look. “You’re joking, right?” I asked. She shook her head. “Nope, I’m dead serious” I let out an incredulous, almost baffled snort of laughter and pulled my glasses off my face, rubbing my eyes.
The country, and, to a large extent, the entire world, became gripped in an interest, sometimes bordering on obsession with all things Egyptian when King Tut’s tomb was discovered over a century ago. Many things came out of this, including the classic 1932 monster movie The Mummy. But, one thing that also came of this fever gripping the country was a desire to build many Egyptian style buildings. And one of the buildings which took this design and ran with it, were the movie theatres. A decade after the legendary discovery, over a hundred theatres had gone up all around the country, their interiors clad with fake temple columns, paintings of sphinxes and Egyptian gods such as Anubis decorating the walls, and hieroglyphs adorning the archways. People flocked in droves to them, both to watch movies, and live performances. But, like all trends, eventually, the interest began to wane, and as the late 20th Century approached, many began to shut down and be either remodeled, or straight up demolished. Today, there’s only between five and eight Egyptian style theatres left in the entire country.
And one just so happens to be right in the town I live in.
When I moved to Coos Bay, Oregon nine years ago, I immediately fell in love with the place. Even though it’s the largest coastal town on the Oregon coast, it’s a place which is more or less perpetually frozen in time, still looking pretty much as it did between thirty and seventy years ago. And, as someone who is not exactly into the modern world, it made a perfect place for me to live and escape away from the 21st Century. I began exploring right away, driving every street of it and the town neighboring it, North Bend, along with walking every alley and back road I could to learn the layout. That’s how I learned about the supernatural element to the town.
There are many places in town which people claim supernatural occurrences take place. From the remains of the old logging buildings on the estuary, to the old Tioga Hotel which has been remodeled into apartments, there is no shortage of ghostly tales. There was even the old McCauley Hospital, which had once been the focal point of the town’s annual ghost walks until it was demolished in 2018. As a side note, I heard a rumor that a couple people broke into that place right before it got torn down. Something sure spooked them, because a friend of mine on the police force told me they gave him a fright, bursting in the night before Easter and rambling about something. I always wondered what they saw in there.
But, for me, the place in town I always loved the most, and enjoyed the most hearing about the ghostly accounts told, was the Egyptian Theatre.
Originally built as a garage in 1922, it was renovated by a man named Charles Noble into a movie theatre in 1925, where it drew in droves of people from around the area to watch films, and enjoy live vaudeville performances. It continued to operate almost to the end of the 20th Century, when other theatres began to attract younger moviegoers, and for a while, it almost seemed as though the historic building might even be closed for good and gutted. But, thanks to the efforts of local preservation societies, it was saved, and now operates as a theatre once again. They mostly play only older movies, along with live performances.
And, of course, it draws curious people for the paranormal rumors surrounding it.
For years, people have reported strange occurrences happening inside the building, both when it’s open, and after hours. Patrons and employees alike have spoken about a pervasive feeling of being watched inside the building, but finding no one there when the place was searched. There have been reports of being touched by invisible hands, a few even pushed slightly. Beyond physical interaction, employees have reported the sounds of old film projectors playing and unseen audiences laughing after hours, along with the eerie playing of the theatre’s Wurlitzer pipe organ, along with a host of other occurrences. No ghost hunting team has ever gone in to try and document these events. And to Natasha, that was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Legal, or not.
“Are you freaking nuts?!” Vinny exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how much trouble we’d be in if we got caught breaking and entering? The cops around here are already a bit twitchy with the druggies and the homeless. You wanna give them a reason to throw us into jail alongside them?” Natasha held up a finger, flipping her black hair over her shoulder. “They won’t find out, because I have not one, but two aces in the hole here. The first is that thanks to being friends with Scott, I know the nighttime police sweeps, where they’re going to be and everything. There’ll be an hour long window where they’re not anywhere near the alley where the back door to the theatre is. We can get in and out with no threat of being spotted at all. And the second is, did you forget I’m dating Dylan now?” The realization washed over me like a wave; she had started dating the man who helped the preservation society run the theatre a month or so ago. Damn, she’s been planning this one for a while, I thought.
Vinny had a thoughtful look on his face, his green eyes darting around rapidly, but not seeing. “Hmm” he muttered, then looked at Natasha. “And you’re sure that there’s no chance of us getting caught?” he asked slowly. “Absolutely none” she said, then looked at both of us. “So, how about it?” For a few moments, there was silence, and then Vinny let out a chuckle. “What the hell, why not? The most exciting thing we’ve done the last few weeks is go down to the farmer’s market. This could shake things up a bit” I suddenly became aware that the two of them were looking at me, waiting for me to make my decision. I was always the most sensible of the three of us, doing all I could to keep us out of trouble with others as well as the law. But, I always had one nasty Achilles Heel ever since I had been a child, and that was peer pressure. So, despite the overwhelming feeling that I should tell them no, that I should say we should just find something else to do, I nodded. “Alright, let’s do it” I said simply, causing grins to break out on both of my friend’s faces.
I wish to God in retrospect that I’d just had the damn spine to stand up and say “No”
The rest of the week seemed to pass by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the weekend had arrived. We’d decided that late Saturday night would be the best time to do this, as most places downtown closed up between eleven and midnight, aside from the bars and strip club. To say I felt anxious about breaking the law, something I wasn’t used to doing at all, would be like calling a Megalodon a goldfish, but my worries about disappointing my friends ended up outweighing it. And so, at eleven-thirty, the three of us piled into my beat up Chevy Tahoe, and made our way towards downtown. As I drove us down Ocean Boulevard, which connected the two sides of town, something settled over me. I can’t exactly place it, even to this day. But it was the most uneasy feeling I’ve ever experienced. But I did my best to push it away. It’s nothing, Troy. It’s just because you’re, understandably, worried about this. Plus, the road being deserted isn’t helping much.
My mental chiding seemed to help center me a bit, which was a good thing. The road was now angling downward, and a moment later, we drove into downtown. The darkened shapes of the closed stores seemed to rise up higher on either side of us than they looked during the daytime. We’d decided to cruise by the front entrance first, just to see if anyone were still inside. As I turned the truck onto the main drag, the sign for the theatre rose high above us, a depiction of an Egyptian pharaoh next to the yellow and white letters which proclaimed its name to everyone who drove through town. I spared a glance as we passed it. The lit up marquee windows showed that The Blues Brothers and Jaws would be shown soon. For whatever reason, though, I couldn’t bring myself to look through the glass doors that showed the building’s darkened interior. The uneasy feeling had returned, and, for a moment, it felt as though if I did look, I would see someone, or something staring back out at me. And then we passed it, taking the next right and looping back around to Anderson Ave.
I turned the truck into the narrow alley drive which ran along the back of the theatre and neighboring buildings. Parking right next to the rear doors would be extremely conspicuous, so I pulled up a bit further and parked in a carport like area. Shutting off the engine, I turned to my two friends. “Well, this is it” I said, “Last chance to turn back if anyone’s having second thoughts” I’d hoped that either Vinny or Natasha would’ve gotten cold feet in the last few minutes, allowing us to go do something else. But there was no such luck. “Are you kidding me?” Natasha said from the passenger seat, “We are far too close to back out now!” Vinny grunted from behind me. Well, shit. Resigning myself to the fact they were determined to go through with this, I let a deep breath out through my nose and nodded. The others opened their doors and hopped out. A moment later, I followed.
The night air was cool and crisp on my skin as we slowly walked back down the alley to the rear of the yellow-ish, tan building. Three different sets of red double doors were built into the back of the theatre. Natasha pulled something out of her coat pocket, and I realized, with a small pang of surprise, that it was a lock pick set. A legitimate lock pick set. “Where the hell did you get that?” I whispered to her. She shrugged and smiled. “I have my ways of getting things” she said simply, then pointed to the far right set of doors. “We’ll have a bit of cover from that electrical box. You two keep an eye out while I deal with the lock” And with that, she scurried forward, bending down in front of the door handles. Vinny and I stood guard, each of us looking down both ends of the alley. As the soft sound of Natasha messing with the lock filtered over to me, I realized just how quiet it was. And how eerie hearing downtown so quiet was. Aside from a few distant booms and bangs, and the far off sound of a dog barking, all I could hear was the whistle of the wind as it whipped between the old buildings.
An involuntary shiver cascaded up my spine, and I tried again to reason myself back to a relative sense of calm. “Get a grip, dude, you’re gonna be fine” I whispered under my breath. But this time, it felt as though I weren’t able to entirely convince myself. I suddenly became aware of a creeping sensation, one which made me shoot a look around. Nothing moved in the stillness, no indication of anyone besides us being in the alley. And, yet…I was overcome with the distinct feeling of being watched. Not by either of my friends. But…by someone else. Before I had a chance to even think about it, I heard a rather loud click, and Natasha let out a soft laugh of triumph. “We’re in, ladies and gentleman!” she declared, standing up and pulling on the door. It opened silently, the streetlight in the alley casting a small shaft of light into the darkness beyond. Turning, she waved an arm at Vinny and I. “Come on, let’s get inside”
Before either of us could say anything, she turned and disappeared into the dark. I shot a look at Vinny, who simply shrugged. “After you, my man” he whispered. I let out a deep sigh, and then moved to the door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small flashlight, and then pulled on the heavy metal, slipping inside, Vinny right behind me. The darkness swallowed us as the door closed. For a moment, a small rush of panic from not being able to see flashed through me, before a light appeared beside me. It wasn’t from a flashlight, though; instead, a small, orange flame flickered beside me. “Don’t turn on your flashlights yet, just follow me” Natasha said, the flame making her face seem to dance and move behind it. She turned and headed away, leaving us no choice but to follow. I listened to her and didn’t turn on my flashlight. But every fiber of my being was screaming at me to. Because the feeling of being watched out in the alleyway? Had quintupled in here. The best way to describe it, was that we were angrily being stared at. And I didn’t like the sensation one bit.
Natasha led us up a flight of steps and pushed open another door. “We’re here” she said, still keeping her voice low, “You can turn on your flashlights now” Thank you, God, I silently said, snapping mine on and casting a bright white light into the room we’d entered. A moment later, so did my two friends’ lights. The beams played around, and I heard Vinny let out a bit of a gasp. “Ho-lyyyy shit” he muttered.
Natasha had guided us into the main theatre. The ceiling rose high above our heads, almost out of sight of even the flashlights. Rows upon rows of red movie seats stretched out and away from us, seeming almost unending in the shadows. The walls were all covered in hieroglyphs, all still original from the 1920s. To our left, the second story, which housed a smaller row of seats, along with the projection room rose about twenty feet above us. And to the right, was the stage itself. It was flanked by two huge columns, the screen rolled up and revealing a mosaic of an Egyptian building on the back wall, with two men clutching staffs sitting on either side. Directly in front of the stage sat the organ, its seating bench tucked beneath it.
“Okay, this is a trip to be in at night!” Natasha exclaimed excitedly, then pulled the backpack she’d been wearing off her shoulders. Dropping it into a seat, she unzipped it and began pulling items from it. “Guys, here” she said, holding them out. Vinny stepped forward and grabbed the camcorder from her; as someone who’d had a lifelong dream of being a filmmaker, he was our resident cameraman. I stepped forward and took two items from her: an infrared thermometer and an EVP recorder. The rest, she placed on the ground, and then faced Vinny. “Alright, tell me when you’re recording” He fumbled with the camcorder for a second, then shot her a thumbs up. Instantly, she took on a somber, eerie expression, giving an admittedly creepy look at the camera. “Well, well, welcome back to The Three Ghostkuteers, everyone. I hope you all have been well since our last trip. Tonight, you join us in a very, very special place, and one close to home for us. We are currently in the Egyptian Theatre in Coos Bay, Oregon, one of the last remaining in the country. It was built in the 1920s by a man named Charles Noble-“
I turned away, tuning her out as I did. The woman really, really enjoys being in front of the camera. Better her than me. Shining my light around, I looked up at the balcony. I could see the small hole in the projection booth where the movie projector would shine out onto the screen. Something caught the beam’s light, reflecting off it slightly, and I aimed the light at the wall. It was a wrought iron light fixture, one which had been shaped into the figure of a King Cobra, poised to strike. Gazing around, I saw they adorned much of the walls. I let out a small shudder at it. God, do I hate snakes. Thankfully, though, the feeling of being watched I’d had in the alley and the darkened back of the theatre had seemingly disappeared. Yeah, see, what’d I tell you, Troy? Nothing but your nerves.
Natasha had finished her opening monologue and moved to the edge of the stage, on which she placed the small, square spirit box. “And now, let’s see if anyone would like to speak with us” she said, flicking it on. Instantly, the silence of the theatre was shattered by the sound of static, intermittently interrupted by quick snippets of radio shows being picked up. “Is there anyone here who’d like to talk to us?” she called out into the huge room. The static and snippets were the only sound to answer her. After a minute, she tried again. “Are there any spirits who’d like to communicate with us?” There was still nothing. Vinny panned the camera from the box to Natasha as she paced back and forth for a few minutes. A small look of disappointment flooded over her face, but she instantly plastered it over with the same look she’d given the camera before. “Well, it looks like the spirit box isn’t gonna work tonight, so we’re gonna have to try something else” She pulled out an EVP recorder identical to mine and switched it on. “Let’s try this instead, shall we? Remember, by the way guys, if you’re new here and want to see more, to like and subscribe-“
I turned away again, feeling a small pang of irritation flow through me. This is freakin’ ridiculous, man. The longer we stay in here, the more chance we have of getting caught. Truth be told, as much as I enjoyed ghost hunting, I didn’t even really believe in the paranormal. In all the years the three of us had filmed together, not once had we caught anything, on tape or otherwise. In fact, many times we’d had to fake spooky occurrences in order to make sure our videos got any views at all. This is your own fault, man, I silently chided myself, you’re the one who couldn’t stand up to them and say no. You really, seriously need to grown a spine and learn how to say no. The mental self lecture was furthering my rotten mood, and I began to feel a wave of anger at my two friends, as well as myself boil up.
“Hell with this” I finally muttered, then turned and began walking up the aisle. “Troy, where the hell are you going?” I heard Natasha call out behind me. I stopped, not looking over my shoulder, but quietly aiming my voice behind me and allowing a hint of irritation to seep into it. “I’m gonna go check out the second floor balcony, okay? I don’t exactly like just standing here” For a moment, there was silence, and then her voice came, soft and almost apologetic. “Okay, go ahead” Before she could say anything more, I strode away, walking to the open doorway which led out of the theater and into the concession area. I hooded my flashlight beam with one hand to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally shine out of the glass entrance doors into the street and looked around. The lobby and concession stand took up most of the front area, the darkened shape of it stretching along the far wall.
Taking a few steps ahead, I turned and looked up at the wall above me. Large, blue letters stretched out from one side of it to the other. Through these doors pass the most wonderful people. I snorted softly. “Yeah, unfortunately, not tonight” I shook my head, then looked around. And nearly jumped out of my skin. Something also seemed to jump back. I felt my heartbeat begin to race in my chest and my breath quickened. “Shit…” I let out weakly, then slowly moved forward. After a few steps, I suddenly realized what I’d seen and let out a soft laugh of relief.
“Your own damn reflection, you fucking pussy” Shaking my head, I turned away from the glass wall and headed for the stairs to the second floor. At the base of them, I stopped and shone my flashlight up. “Ooh, boy” I said quietly. Sitting next to the stairway like a sentry, was a huge, golden statue of a pharaoh. It towered over me, and I estimated that, were it be standing straight up, it’d easily be between eight and ten feet tall. It stared straight ahead at the wall ahead of it, and I couldn’t help but let out a small shiver as I stared at it. It just seemed so damn eerie in the dark, and I quickly moved past it, heading up the stairs and stepping out onto the second story balcony.
I shone my light around. Red seats again surrounded me, though this time far fewer. Ahead of me, I could see the balcony’s edge and the hulking shape of the main stage beyond. I could also see the beams of my friends’ flashlights playing over it, and hear both of their voices speaking softly. Deciding while I was up here to at least check out the projection booth, I strode over to the door and tried to turn the handle. It was locked. Feeling my irritation bubble over into exasperation, I jiggled the handle in some stupid attempt to open it. But the door stayed shut. I turned away and rubbed my eyes, again hearing the voices of my friends softly filtering up to me from down below.
“Hey, if there really are any ghosts, or spooks, or specters, or whatever in here? If you’re actually real, could you appear to us, please?” I whispered to no one, “That way my friends can get what they want and I can go home” I received only silence in reply. I hadn’t really expected anything, anyways. You know what? Screw this, I’m going back down there and telling them I’m going home, with or without them. This is beyond stupid, I just broke the law for what? For nothing! For something dumb as hell. And with that, I turned to walk away. But I hadn’t even taken a single step when something crashed into me like a wave. The breath was driven from my lungs as I felt a massive chill shoot through me, as though I’d been doused with ice water. “What the fuck?!” I hissed through gritted teeth, then froze, my eyes going wide. The feeling of being watched had returned with a vengeance, and it had seemingly been ramped up in its intensity. I shot a look around, but saw nobody.
Still, the feeling remained, and with each passing second, it almost seemed to grow stronger. Chill after chill rolled up my spine, and even though I didn’t really believe, something deep inside me told me that it was time to get out. Okay, time to leave, I said in my head, and headed quickly for the stairs. As I reached the head, I turned to look back one final time. That’s when I saw something. It disappeared when I aimed my flashlight at it, but I swear a second earlier it had been the outline of a person, standing in the shadows and watching me. The split second sight catapulted me into motion, and I hurried down the steps, shining my light every which way but loose. Believer or not, I knew something wanted us out. I’d planned on jumping off the second to last stair and running for the main theatre floor. But as I reached the bottom, I froze.
For a moment, I couldn’t place why. And then, the realization fell over me like a tsunami. I let out an involuntary gasp, and fear like I’d never felt before surged through me. I didn’t want to turn around and look. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen it. I desperately wanted to. But, like a dumbass character in a horror movie, I couldn’t help it. I needed to look. I slowly turned, aiming my flashlight back up. And I couldn’t help but let out a strangled scream, falling backwards over my own feet as I began to backpedal rapidly.
The statue of the pharaoh still sat where it had. It still towered over me, looking as imposing and eerie as ever. But it’s carved and painted eyes were no longer staring straight ahead at the wall. Instead, they had somehow moved. And when I’d turned, I’d come to find they were staring directly at me.
I scrambled to my feet, snatching the flashlight from the floor where I’d dropped it and aiming it at the statue again. It stared straight out at nothing again. But I knew what I’d seen. It hadn’t been a trick of my mind, or the light. The freaking thing’s eyes had moved to watch me as I passed down by it. I began to stammer out as I backed away from it. “Okay, that’s it, no no no no, we’re done here, fuck this shit, I’m officially a believer, we’re leaving, right now” I kept backing towards the doorway to the theatre, never taking my eyes off the statue. I was terrified I’d seen it suddenly stand up and turn to lumber after me like Boris Karloff or something.
The blaring sound of the theatre’s organ slashed through the silence, causing me to let out another strangled scream and jump almost a foot off the ground. I whipped around, thinking I would see my moronic friends tinkering with the instrument. Instead, I froze again. The theatre was no longer dark. Both of my friends had seemingly vanished from the room, as I could no longer see them. The movie screen had somehow been pulled down, and above me, I heard the whir of the movie projector playing. An old, black and white movie, one which had no sound, played on the screen, occasionally changing to show dialogue being displayed in white letters.
It was also no longer empty.
The entire theatre was packed. I saw people sitting at almost every single seat in the huge room. I could only see the backs of their heads as they watched the movie playing. At the edge of the stage, what looked like a man now sat at the organ, playing it in time with the film. A slapstick moment came across the screen, and the audience began laughing. In any other situation, it would’ve been a comforting sound. But at that moment, it was the most spine chilling sound I’d ever heard. Especially as another wave of realization crashed into me. From the little I could see, everyone in the theatre looked to be dressed in long passed fashions.
That’s when the voice, low and quiet, came from behind me. “Good evening, sir” it said. It sounded like a man’s voice, one rather low and deep pitched, but something about it paralyzed me on the spot. The voice continued, putting on an air of pleasant politeness. “We’re so glad you could make it, it’s been so long since we’ve had new patrons arrive at a showing. If I could just see your ticket, please?”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Then, I managed to squeak out two words. “Uh, ticket?” The tone of the voice seemed to change somewhat. “Yes, your ticket. That’s the only way you could’ve gotten in. Please, let me verify it and show you to your seat” Ohhh, shit. Whoever, or whatever the voice belonged to, thought I had shown up like a regular moviegoer. The voice’s tone became less polite. “You do have a ticket, right, sir?” I was beyond terrified to answer, but I was more terrified to remain silent. For a moment, I considered lying. But I feared what might happen if I did. So I told the truth.
“I….uh, I, uh….I don’t have a ticket, sir” I stammered out, my voice barely above a whisper. Instantly, all sound stopped in the room like someone had flipped a switch. “You…don’t have a ticket?” the voice said, all pretense of manners vanishing from it, “Then how did you get in here for the late night showing?” Oh, god. I forced myself to speak, still unable to say anything except the truth. “My…my friends and I….broke in…through the back door…to…ghost hunt…” There was silence for a few moments, and then a heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder. My head swiveled to look at it. Oh, fuck me sideways. It wasn’t a regular hand. It was a fucking claw. One with black skin, tipped with what looked like razor sharp nails. It sat there for a moment, then tightened; almost painfully so, making me let out a small whimper of pain.
That’s when I looked up. Everyone in the theatre had turned to look at me. My initial thought had been correct; they all wore clothing from almost a century ago, and not the stuff cosplayers wear, either. They also had very angry expressions on their faces, as if they’d just noticed the intruder among their midst. The voice finally came again, almost directly behind me. Its tone lowered, almost sounding guttural and animal, making my legs almost melt into jelly from the fear. “Then, might I make a suggestion to you and your trespassing little friends?” My breath came in rapid, ragged gasps, and I barely managed to force out the one word. “Yes?”
At the single word reply, which now more closely resembled a growl than a word, I did something I will forever wish I hadn’t. I finally turned and looked up at who was addressing me. The only way I can describe what happened is, my mind shattered. The next thing I remember, I was crashing into the back doors of the theatre into the night.
And I was screaming.
That was a month or so ago. When I’d stumbled back into the alley, I’d turned and, in what I can only call blind fear and panic, bolted for my truck. I hadn’t even heard my friends chasing after me. Not until Vinny caught up to me as I scrambled with my keys, grabbing me from behind and turning me to face him. He said the look I’d had on my face scared him and Natasha more than anything ever had before. I’d been pale as a sheet, my eyes wider than they ever thought a human’s could be. I'd been babbling softly. I’d been saying the words “They want us to leave” over and over. They didn’t ask me what had happened. They just pushed me into the backseat of my truck and drove away from there. It was clear, as I found out later on, that both of them hadn’t seen anything. As far as they were concerned before seeing me dash to the rear doors, it was just an empty theatre. Neither one of them ever asked me what I saw that night. And for that, I’m thankful. Because I could never utter from my lips what I did see.
But I’ve had nightmares since then. Horrible ones. Ones that’ve been so bad, I had to let out what happened to me, deciding to just post it here, regardless of whether people believe me or not.
Nightmares about being back in that theatre after hours. About seeing that pharaoh statue’s eyes flick in its painted sockets to look at me. About seeing all those people, people long since dead, sitting and watching the films they did when they were alive. About seeing that hand fall on my shoulder, hearing that voice, telling me not to come back until I have a ticket.
And about turning to see who the hand and voice belonged to.
The Egyptian Theatre will be celebrating its centennial this year. People are planning to show up in 1920s cars, dressed in period clothing. They’re even going to show an old, silent film as part of the festivities. But I won’t be attending it. I won’t ever go anywhere near it again. The one time I tried, a week or so ago, I started trembling with fear. And the mental image played over and over in my head.
The image of turning to see that horrible canine head attached to the human-like body, red, glowing eyes glaring down at me as it’s sharp teeth glinted in the light.
I pray to god I never will end up with a ticket to one of its late night showings.
But I can't help but fear that, like those packed into the theatre, sooner or later, we all will.
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2023.06.05 05:49 Ford9863 [Asteria] Part 27
The gas poured from the hole and hung in the air, falling slightly as more poured through behind it. Thomas had no guesses as to what the substance could be. Chemistry was never his strong suit. But he knew enough to be afraid of it.
He was the first to spring forward, cutting the corner and turning left at the first junction before reaching the gas. His foot slid as he turned, moving a small piece of paper on the ground beneath him. That wasn’t important. What mattered most was getting to the end of the chem lab and to the shaft that would take them where they needed to go.
With a quick turn of his head, he confirmed the others followed behind. He could almost hear his own feet slapping against the floor, though the ringing was still far too loud in his ears to attempt communication. He knew he’d have to try and keep track of their whereabouts on his own. They’d turned left; the gaseous room was now on the right, and they needed to get past it.
He tried to envision the room from above. It wasn’t a perfect grid, which made things difficult—but if he could keep the relative location of the gas in his mind, they might be able to take a wide path around it and pass on the other side. Or so he hoped, anyway.
They approached another junction and he stopped for a brief second, shining his light to the right. The path in that direction appeared straight, and he saw no sign of the gas reaching this far as of yet—so that’s where he went. Again, he craned his neck and confirmed Layna and Mark were close behind. Neither made any attempt at objecting to his path.
Straight ahead they went. Thomas counted his steps as he ran—at twenty paces, he figured they must be about even with the toxic room. Both paths thus far had been straight, so the danger remained to his right. The next junction was only twenty more strides ahead; a junction which had one single sheet of paper, pointing to the right. That must have been the way they went the first time. If they went that way now, they’d run right back into the room.
So he passed it and continued straight. Ten paces, twenty, thirty. He cursed whoever designed this section of the ship for making this stretch of rooms so oblong.
Another junction finally arrived after nearly eighty steps. By that time his pace had slowed; he wondered if his stride had shortened now that his run had become more of a jog. He leaned against a glass wall and took a couple of long, deep breaths, shining his light down the three paths in front of him.
The goal was to the right. He knew that. They hadn’t strayed so far that he’d lost his way already. So he turned to look at the others and gestured in that direction while lifting his brow. Layna and Mark both nodded in agreement.
After twenty or so paces, the hall began to curve to the left. Thomas once again tried to picture the room’s layout. From that point, the gaseous room would be to the right and a bit ahead of them. If the hall had just continued straight, they would have moved past the danger with ease. The curve complicated things.
He tried to keep a clear picture in his mind of the curve, tried to account for exactly how much it moved them away from their path. When they hit the next junction, he expected the proper path to be to the right—but a single sheet of paper on the ground showed that they’d previously gone that direction.
“Is that right?” he called out, pointing to the paper. He could hear his voice now; the ringing had calmed to a dull, persistent tone.
“I don’t remember,” Layna said, her voice muffled by his damaged ears. Still, he could hear her, and that was enough.
Mark shook his head. “That’s got to be the right way. Maybe we just did something else wrong the first time.” His words were clear—his neck strained with each one he spoke, clearly forcing his voice louder than Layna had.
“Right it is, then,” Thomas said and started in that direction.
The hall curved again, this time back to the right. Thomas was certain this was still the right way; the curve had to have been just enough to counteract the other. If he was right, this would put them back on track to avoid the cloud and get them to the safety of the maintenance shaft.
But he was wrong. After following the curve for quite some time, they ran into a dark green cloud floating over the next junction. He had no idea how far it had spread in the time since they’d run, or how close they were to being able to sneak past it—but running into it now meant they were going to lose even more ground.
They turned back and chose another path at the junction. Whereas they’d turned right the first time, they now chose the straight path. Thomas tried to picture it in his head, but it came out as a jumbled mess. He wasn’t sure he could even backtrack to where they’d started at this point.
Once again, they moved through a gently curving corridor. The next split was left without one of their paper arrows; Thomas hoped it was a good sign, but didn’t voice that to the others. Right seemed like the logical way to go, so that’s where they went. After that, the rooms became smaller and the junctions more frequent.
After the third intersection, they stopped. Each path looked the same: dark. They didn’t see any toxic cloud of chemicals in their way, but they didn’t see any sign of their destination, either. Thomas pulled the pad of paper from his pocket and opened it to one of the few remaining pages. Then he drew an ‘X’ in the middle, and held the pad where the others could see.
Layna shined her light on it. “What’s that?”
“This is the gas,” Thomas said. “We started here”—he drew a line down from the ‘X’—“and moved this way. Then this way at the first split. The hall curved here—”
“That’s too much,” Mark said. “It was less of a curve than that.”
Thomas lifted his gaze to Mark, then flicked to Layna. “Do you agree?”
She pressed her lips tight. “I’m… not sure. It’s hard to gauge.”
“Alright,” Thomas said, drawing over the line with a less curvy one. “We’ll say it was less. Then we turned right, and that hall curved—”
“No, that one was straight,” Mark said. “It was the one after that curved.”
Layna shook her head. “No, I think we were straight for a while and turned a couple of times before—”
Thomas flipped the book shut. They were getting nowhere. Somewhere around them the cloud was creeping through the halls, slowly whittling down their options, and he wasn’t about to sit in one spot and wait for it to reach them.
“We need to just pick a direction,” he said. “I don’t care which. Let’s just keep moving.”
Layna nodded, then gestured to their left. “I vote this way.”
Mark pointed to the right. “I say there.”
Thomas turned to the right and said, “I’m with Layna.”
Mark grumbled something under his breath but followed all the same.
They made a few turns as they moved deeper through the halls, eventually finding a wall that wasn’t made of the lab’s familiar glass. Thomas wasn’t sure which side they’d popped out on, but it certainly wasn’t where they’d expected to be. A single airtight door with a circular handle stood in front of them. In bright yellow letters across its face, it said, ‘Cloning Room’.
“Didn’t know this was back here,” Mark said. Thomas thought he heard a hint of shakiness in the man’s tone. It could have still been the shock from the gunshot wearing off, but he couldn’t be sure.
Layna pulled the radio from her hip. “Neyland, come in.”
It crackled to life without hesitation. “Yes?”
“Chem lab is fucked. Something is leaking and we got turned around. Not sure if we can get back through to the shaft we were heading toward. Is there a way through the cloning room?”
The line remained silent for a moment. “You should find another way to reach the maintenance shaft, as planned.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t answer my question. Is there a way through there or not? Time is short here, so if you want us to help you out instead of suffocating in some sort of toxic cloud, you might want to give a damned answer.”
He answered with a short, “Yes.” The line was silent for a moment, so Layna returned the radio to her hip.
“In we go,” she said. As she reached for the handle, Neyland’s voice sounded once more.
“Be sure to move quickly through the area, you don’t want to—”
Layna clicked the knob of the radio off. “Don’t give a shit,” she said. Then she turned to glance at the others. “Do you?”
Mark and Thomas both shook their heads. At least they could agree on something.
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2023.06.05 05:49 Ford9863 Horrors of the Asteria - Part 26
As they exited the elevator shaft into the chem labs, a strong metallic scent filled the air. Thomas instinctively held his breath but couldn’t keep it in for long.
“Probably best not to touch anything while we’re here,” Layna said, waving a hand in front of her nose. “We don’t know what kind of nasty stuff has been spilled all over the place with these shifts.”
Thomas nodded, scanning the landing with his flashlight. On the wall opposite the elevator was a painting of Earth’s silhouette. The Asteria’s insignia was painted within that, reversed as white. At the top were the words, “Taking Humanity to the Next Level”.
Below those words was one word: ‘Lies’. Written in red, the substance had dried as it dripped down the rest of the wall. It made it look like the surface itself was bleeding. Thomas questioned if it was blood but wasn’t sure he wanted to know for sure. It wouldn’t have surprised him at this point.
“What do you suppose that’s about?” He asked, his light lingering on the image.
Mark shrugged, turning his attention to the hall on the right. “This mission was always full of shit,” he said. “Probably about that.”
“Just because things went sideways doesn’t mean the mission was shit,” Layna said.
He turned to face her with a skeptical look on his face. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you believed their over-the-top slogans and propaganda.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t mean that. I just—” she pressed her lips together, considering her words. “I think most of the people on board had good intentions. They really wanted to believe in this thing.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter much now, does it,” Mark said, stepping down the hall.
“No, I guess not,” Layna said, following behind.
Thomas lingered at the wall for a moment, feeling a strange sensation in his gut. It had never been about the mission for him, either. In truth, he never took the time to fully understand what the ship set out to do. He just knew how it would help the people he wanted to help. That was enough.
He wondered what became of them after he left.
“Tommy boy, you coming or what?” Mark called back, shining his light in Thomas’s eyes.
Thomas nodded and moved to catch up with them.
The chem labs were set up similarly to the bio labs on the opposite side of the deck. Each room was made of glass, though it appeared a bit thicker on this side. Cabinets lined most rooms, each with various symbols. Many of them held plain warnings about the caustic chemicals held within. Most appeared to be fully intact—they were properly secured for the event of turbulence.
One room they passed looked like it had been abandoned mid-experiment. Glass littered the tile floor, no doubt the remnants of beakers that once stood on the black table in the center. The floor itself was streaked with deep, slashing burns—whatever chemical had spilled during the shifts had tried to eat its way right through the floor. Beneath the tile was a layer of some dull gray, pitted substance. The chemicals didn’t penetrate it.
A dense green fog filled another small room. Thomas stepped close and pressed his light against the glass, trying to see through. But the fog was too thick. Even at ground level, he couldn’t see more than an inch of the floor. The toxic cloud moved slowly, almost swirling.
“Are these things airtight?” Layna asked, shining her light on the door’s edge.
“Well it’s not leaking out anywhere that I can see,” Mark said. He scanned the ceiling where it met the glass wall. The cloud moved slowly against the corner but appeared contained.
“What about vents?” Layna asked. “They had to be able to breathe working in there.”
“I’m sure there are safeguards,” Mark said. “Things like this usually have their own ventilation systems, and beyond that, if something like this happens there are sensors to detect and seal it off.”
Thomas nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not sure I trust the safeguards on this ship,” he said, taking a step back. “Best not to push out luck and linger around this thing, I think.”
They turned and continued working their way through the lab, finding the path harder to follow than expected. Unlike the bio labs, the chem labs were not laid out in a perfect grid. Some rooms were much larger than others, some were oddly shaped. The result was a mix of long and short corridors, some curving, some ending abruptly. If they had the ship’s lights, they’d probably be able to see through enough rooms to keep their bearings. But with the dim light of their flashlights, the space was a maze.
“That’s the way we came,” Mark said, stopping as Layna tried to turn left at a junction.
She shook her head. “No, we came from that way. See? There’s that orange box in the corner of the room.” Her light settled on a bright orange case inside the nearest room, a black biohazard symbol painted on its lid.
“That’s a different box,” Mark said. “The other one was open.”
Layna furrowed her brow. “Was it?” She looked to Thomas for confirmation, but he only shrugged. Keeping track was becoming a bit of a nightmare.
“Alright, maybe we should find a way to mark our paths,” Layna said. “Leave something behind at these junctions.”
Thomas felt at his pockets. After a moment, he found the pencil and notepad he’d had earlier.
“How about this?” he said, showing it to the others. He scratched a large, bold arrow into one of the pages and tore it from the book. “We can mark down which way we went.”
“Perfect,” Layna said. “Let’s go right. If we end up circling back around, we’ll know we were wrong.”
Thomas knelt and placed the paper on the ground pointing to the right. He returned the pad and pencil to his pocket. As long as they didn’t experience another shift, the paper arrows would work.
They found themselves walking in circles a few times before they’d laid enough arrows to feel like they were finally progressing. Thomas had torn at least a dozen pages from the book before they reached consecutive junctions without markings. It was working, though. That was all that mattered.
As they worked their way forward, a faint sound became audible. At first Thomas dismissed it as one of the other’s breathing, but as they moved forward, it became clear that wasn’t the case. With the power out, he knew it wasn’t anything the ship itself was doing. It was something in the labs.
It grew louder as they moved deeper through the corridors. It was rhythmic and soft, almost like a wheeze or a growl. They all exchanged a glance, understanding it was likely they were about to find another infected crew member.
They turned a corner and finally saw it. The man stood in the center of a nearby lab, facing the opposite direction. Bone stuck through the flesh of his right arm, no doubt broken during one of the gravity shifts. Blood streaked across the glass windows.
Their silence wasn’t enough to keep from drawing the thing’s attention. When the light from all three flashlights fell on it, it turned. Blood ran down the man’s face, a large gash running across his forehead. He let out a long, piercing shriek, and then ran for the door or the lab.
It wasn’t locked.
The trio turned to run, knowing they had to be close to the next elevator shaft. Thomas imagined how it might go—they make it to the shaft, tear open the latch, and shove the infected man through. It wouldn’t be the prettiest way to deal with it, but it would work.
They turned a corner, a loose notebook paper crunching beneath Thomas’s feet. With each stride, he felt a sharp stab in his side. He couldn’t keep this up for long. As it was, just catching his breath was going to be immeasurably painful.
Then they found themselves approaching a dead end, having not paid enough attention to the arrows they’d left along the ground. The infected barreled toward them, his broken arm swinging at his side. He growled and wheezed as he ran.
“Fuck this,” Mark said, pulling his pistol from his belt.
Thomas’s eyes went wide. “No, Mark, you can’t—”
The first shot rang out. Thomas clenched his eyes and raised his palms to the sides of his head. The sound alone felt like someone had clapped their hands against his ears. He no longer heard the man’s wheezing or uneven steps—just a loud, persistent ringing.
Another shot rang out, this one muffled by his already wounded hearing. He felt the force of it in his chest, though, and hoped Mark had at least hit his target. Thomas opened his eyes and looked forward, eyeing the man twitching on the ground.
He retrieved the flashlight he’d dropped when Mark first fired, then flicked his eyes between Mark and Layna. They appeared to be yelling at each other, but their voices were nothing but subtle tones hidden behind the screeching in Thomas’s head.
Then he saw something much more worrisome. He opened his mouth to speak. He could feel his vocal cords vibrate as he tried to make the words, but that screeching in his head was too much. The others must have been experiencing the same because neither turned to look at him. But he needed to get their attention.
So he shoved both of them on the shoulder. They turned and glared at him, confused and angry, waiting for some sort of explanation.
He simply pointed down the hall in the direction Mark had shot. To the glass room at the far end. And to the thin stream of green gas pouring through a neat little hole near the top.
submitted by Ford9863
to HFY [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 05:36 Clockwork-isntaclock Hi
I can recall it staring all the way back in 2011, somewhere in September. Not so sure about the exact day but it might've been somewhere trought the end of it. The cold was starting to set in at this time in Canada, so did the Halloween spirit. I was preparing in order to go help my friend set the decorations on. I know, it's early but she's always been the kind to celebrate every holiday a month before. I was just near the front door, picking up my coat for the visit when I've heard a quiet, gentle knocking from behind.I can recall it staring all the way back in 2011, somewhere in September. Not so sure about the exact day but it might've been somewhere trought the end of it. The cold was starting to set in at this time in Canada, so did the Halloween spirit. I was preparing in order to go help my friend set the decorations on. I know, it's early but she's always been the kind to celebrate every holiday a month before. I was just near the front door, picking up my coat for the visit when I've heard a quiet, gentle knocking from behind. Barely audible, as quiet as a small sight. I hadn't planned anyone to come neither was I waiting for a delivery, I can just remember too well this fact. I opened the door only to find a single cardboard box sitting there. No delivery man like it is usually the case for packages too big for the complex's mailbox, as I lived in an apartment. It simply sat there, alone and without informations. It even was so quiet on it's delivery that if I hadn't heard the ever so slight knocking I probably wouldn't have noticed the arrival of a package. I picked it up to place it somewhere inside then went over to go do what I had planned for the afternoon, telling myself I must've had ordered something but just not remembering, as it was a rather usual habit of mine. When I came back to my small 2-rooms apartment in the evening, the package was still sitting on the table. Where I had put it, obviously. Nothing stroke me as particularly odd with the package just glancing at it. Dry, unmoving, which is as a box should be. There is few, very few things I regretted more than opening this stranger package. It contained meat. It wasn't filled with it, nor did the meat looked odd in any way, it was just fresh, raw meat. In a package. At my door. It... definitely wasn't something I had been expecting to find inside. I brushed it off as a simple delivery mistake. After all, we can command meat to get it delivered. Especially that the local butcher shop was offering this service. Yet, it still stuck with me for a while. I never had a great relation with meat and it's industry, as far as I can remember. I threw it away. Seeing these pink, bleedy lumps have always disgusted me to my core. The butcher shop has always freaked me out with the meat hanging like that. I didn't think much about it after a month, after a year and half I had just forgotten about it. Until half a year later, two years after the strange packaged meat, there came another. Another neatly arranged package was there. On the top of it... was an enveloppe, attached with a thin, white string finely set into a gentle loop like a old-fashionned gift. I didn't pick it up right away. It reminded me vaguely too much of the weird, gross package of meat I had received 2 years before. And this time. I was certain I hadn't ordered anything. And the knocking announcing it's arrival had gotten quite louder, as I could hear it from the kitchen. It was still quiet thought, so that I would barely hear it. Despite my resilience to take the package, the envy and morbid curiosity grew bigger and became hard to stand. In the end, I left it out for almost a whole week, before I just couldn't stand knowing it was outside my door anyone. So I let it inside my flat. It was left on the table in my bedroom for quite a while, actually. About a month. Yet when it was opened, the meat was still fresh. The enveloppe contained meat as well, althought it seemed like a different one. It was... spongier than the other. I mean of course, it wasn't the usual kind of spongy meat. The second package was the exact same as the first one thought. And I brushed it off too, however trying to find who was meant to receive them this time. Then the year after, it's the same thing. Same package, same foolish mistake of opening it. All of this, these 3 strange packages, all of it began to form a morbid obsession in me. All of it felt so unreal to even be true. Unfortunately all of it was, and I've learned that the hard way. I won't go on about it for too long I think you understand. The delays between these deliveries atrociously shrinked with the time. And you know what's the worst of it? I couldn't do anything about it. I moved out, for unrelated reasons, from Canada to London, in the hope of finding a new job -which was the reason and also the need of change- but also in the slight hope that the boxes wouldn't get to me again. They found me. I had a nice, stable job, as a librarian in a town near London at the time, when the boxes came again. When they started appearing in bigger quantities, I tried getting rid of them, but no hope, if it was trown away or burned, new ones appeared, with the same infernal and endless knocking, I was on the verge of snapping at this point, couldn't stand the knocking getting louder and louder. So. I was left with no choice but to stock it. Of course it was useless, but I couldn't get myself to try and consume it, the circonstances I got them in were just so strange. The meat took all over my fridge, they just arrived so fast, it couldn't contain any more and was full after a week. Couldn't find the space to buy a bigger fridge, and either way it'll fill just as quick with how the packages started containing more, and they arrived faster over. Over and over and over again. So I empiled them around the fridge, into neat piles, but they kept falling off with the bottom row rotting at an alarming rate. The smell wasn't an issue at first, kept in the fridge, it took over a month to decay. But an hot day or two to three regurarly tempered days were enought for it to become all lumpy and gross. All of it. And I still couldn't throw it away, the rotten wasn't going away either, I just received new boxes of the same decaying meat. So more and more kept coming to that spot of my house. And gradually, very, it ended up covering the whole floor, spilled all over but stomped on so often by myself it kind of became a... meaty carpet. It is as gross as it sound. But the deliveries didn't stop. They just went faster, as my floor was full. I... don't know what kind of thought crossed my mind that day but I picked up the package, I took the tender out of it and slowly, I was hanging it on the walls. And so more, same thing happened, they got full too. I'm not too sure why even to this day but, almost hypnotized, I began to put it on the furnitures. The fridge, the sink, the drawers, the tv, even my bed. All of them were -and still are- covered in that God-awful flesh. this happened over a year ago, I've been sleeping on this for over a year. Then it came to the ceiling, it filled so much faster, as the delays of the meat got so, so much closer. Then over the last year I've just been... mindlessly repeating the same patern. A layer of floor, one of the walls, for furniture and for the ceiling. I... lost my job. I've became so obsessed with the stranger meat I didn't went in over 2 months. Quickly enought, I couldn't afford any food to substain myself, leaving no choice but to try and substain off the flesh that was sent to me. All of this started a year ago. I remember the last time I went outside, the tip of my fingers were.. starting to chip off. I had started eating the meat a few days before only. And that was the indication that I was done. And yes, I haven't came out of my apartment for a whole year. I was trying to avoid eating as much as I could once I realized it was the meat who did this to my poor hand, covering them in a gross, bloody flesh. But I just couldn't help but do it, I felt so strangely compelled to take it and swallow it all the way. And there was more of this thick, bleedish-pink flesh growing on my body as the time went by and I consumed more. Look at me. Look at my hands, my deeply infected hands and arms, the flesh spreading like a virus over my very own being. Look at my neck. Bending too much, covered in a thick, bleedy flesh. But I can't not eat it anymore, I just- depend on it now. I can't get rid of eating it. When I try to, it never ends up well, I feel incredibly nauseous, energiless, and oh so irritable. I get angry at so little when sobering from the meat. Just so you know, it usually takes a lot to irritate me in a regular state. But I just feel so compelled toward it, like an obssession. If you want a level for irritability, there was the smell. I got used to it over time, but that moment, I was sobering from this Flesh, but it came to me, the smell made me so, so terribly angry. Such that I tried to rip off my very own nose to try and get rid of it. I almost succeeded. They keep coming at my door. I can't help it, I need your help, I gotta get rid of them. It's method is ever so cruel, the package meat is so low on nutriments and fat to make you unable to rely on your own body to not consume it. I used to be a rather chubby dude, but look at my face, see how you can feel the bones by just looking at it. So, that's about it.
submitted by Clockwork-isntaclock
to ThisIsForrWriting [link] [comments]