So I my car got repoed last year, thought the payments were being auto drafted and moved so I didn't receive any of the mail nor did they call me, just randomly went outside and car was gone. I was 3 payments behind them (90+ days) paid them past due balance and picked up the car the next day from the tow yard, no biggie. The CarMax agent told me anytime I reach 90 days past due that's when they submit a repo order.
Earlier this year, ran into some issues, got laid off and had a hard time finding a job, my account became 80 days past due, didn't hear anything from CarMax but was still cautious anyway to avoid another repo. Called them to set something up and they said my car was out for repo again, and asked when I could make payments I gave a rough timeline and figured everything would be sorted out. Got an email from them 3 days later saying I had to make at least one payment or I'm facing charge off. This is new. My account wasn't even 90 days past due yet I was facing a charge off, came up with enough money for one payment, called and paid. They said I won't have a charge off but I still had the repo order in effect. How when I wasn't even 90 days past due like I was advised before that's when they start the repo process? They had no answers, hung up and started being cautious where I left my car.
Finally landed a job, had to do a week in the hole but as soon as I got my paycheck I was gonna pay the past due balance and be done with this mess. Called them again and asked could they work with me for 2 measly weeks until my paycheck comes and I'll have the remaining balance paid. They said there was nothing they could do. Fast forward to now, pay day is 2 days away, they sent another email saying I'm facing charge off again if I don't make at least one payment on or by the 31st, thanks to bank holiday paycheck could be delayed and on top of that, the tow truck decided to pull up and hook my car. So now it's repoed again and I have to hope I get paid by the 31st to not only pay to get it back but to avoid charge off.
So what I'm trying to figure out, how did repossession orders go from 90 days to 60 days, and why am I all of a sudden facing charge off at 65'ish days past due when I didn't before? None of this makes sense, I wanted to give the car back so bad but I don't want a repo on my credit, so I'm seriously debating on just paying the past due balance, and selling the car to finance through my credit union for a car I actually want. Anyone have any input on this? And what was your experience if you've been through this situation

I'm taking a course on creative writing, and came up with this short story. Hope you like it.

A relaxing life

I wake up to the ship alarms, “Warning. Hull integrity at twenty percent.”
Through the canopy I can only see the grey rigged surface of a massive asteroid. It’s blocking my entire field of view, some of its surface glowing incandescent. I turn off the mining laser and I pull the thrusters on full reverse, watching the asteroid moving slowly away from me, rotating on the horizontal axis. It has a huge protuberance on the left, and it’s getting closer to the left side of my ship. If I can’t get out of its reach, it’s going to hit me again.
This would be easier in a smaller and faster ship, but in a Type-9 this was almost impossible. Being 100 meters wide and long, piloting this ship is like piloting your own city block. I roll the ship to the left, trying to bring the left part of the ship down and evade the asteroid’s arm. I avoid a direct hit, but I’m not fast enough and we take a glancing blow. I can feel the soft tremor when the protuberance hits the ship, “Warning. Hull integrity at fifteen percent.”
The ship is as fast as it could be on reverse gear. We slowly get out of immediate danger, the massive asteroid still in front of us but no longer blocking my view. The asteroid sea surrounds us. Left, right, up, and down, there are asteroids of every size and shape in all directions. I feel a sudden punch behind me as the ship hits another asteroid, this time on our back, “Warning. Hull integrity at six percent.” I curse myself and push the throttle a bit forward, parking the ship between the two asteroids. Now I’m fully awake.
Laser mining was supposed to be relaxing and safe. Sometimes it became even too relaxing. This was not the first time that I fell asleep while mining, but it was the first time that I hammer the ship into an asteroid in the process. And without the shields, the hull took all the impact. Cmdr. Peta was surprised when I said that I ditched the shields in my mining ship to save internal space, which allowed me to get more cargo. He will find it funny that I almost blow the ship while mining alone in a desert ring.
I didn’t like to hunt anymore, so I left my bounty hunting days behind me. No more boosting the agile Fer-de-Lance, the favorite ship of bounty hunters, inside a station like an irresponsible teenager, just to hear that low-frequency hum, cut by high-pitched turbine-like whine that anticipates the fierce roar and the huge acceleration of the ship, while you maneuver it gracefully through the station entrance that resemble so much a mail slot, getting a warning from the authorities for dangerous piloting. No, the Type-9 is a massive brick that requires patience, concentration, and attention to detail. Piloting this inside a mining asteroid ring requires some kind of humble respect for the massiveness of the objects involved. I like this.
I begin to assess the situation. My cargo was at 90 percent capacity. I push away the temptation to keep mining to reach 100 percent. With only six percent of hull integrity, even the slightest hit would tear us apart. If I had put even a small capacity shield, I would probably be carrying roughly the same amount of cargo, but without the danger of getting the ship destroyed. The irony.
I think that whatever course of action, it is best to leave the ring for now. I slowly push the throttle forward and pitch the ship upwards, dodging the asteroids. We get out, my field of view expanding to contemplate the white planetary ring, reflecting the distant star’s light. It’s like a peaceful wide road, going straight for millions of kilometers, until it turns right and disappears behind the light-purple gas giant that it’s orbiting.
I make a cup of coffee, stretch my legs, and start looking for stations with good selling prices. I find one, only one jump away, in a high population system. In other words, risk of pirates. Maybe the system has good security. I come back to my chair, “Sorry girl,” I said, while checking the controllers. “We’ll arrive in a station in no time, you’re getting repaired and will be as good as new, how about that?” I engage the Frame Shift Drive, and we jump to the station’s star system. We’re now only a couple hundreds light-seconds away from the station, traversing in supercruise mode. In normal space this would take months, but in supercruise it’s a matter of minutes.
The station is just a few light-seconds away when I notice two ships behind us, getting closer. The familiar acute noise announces the interdiction, revealing that another ship is trying to get me out of supercruise. I concede to the interdiction, preventing my FSD to overload, thus making reboot faster. When we drop into normal space we are soon followed by a Python ship, and I can see it aiming at us. The pilot opens a communication channel, “Give me some of your cargo or this gets real interesting.” These guys don’t even bother to type the messages themselves; it is always this cold copy-paste communications. His friend doesn’t drop by our location for any reason. If I had shields, I could endure some shots while the hyperdrive charges and boost away. But I look at the bottom right panel, showing the hull integrity “6%”. Any shot and we’re blown to pieces. The best option is to comply.
I start to ditch the results of my honest work to this douchebag, thinking about the time that I spent in the asteroid ring. At least if the ship survives, I won’t have to buy another one, with all the right pieces, and start anew. The truth is that the ship is worth far more than this single cargo. A few moments later two Federal Assault Ships drop to normal space, “This is system security, please comply.” The battle between them and the pirate starts soon after that. Great, now I’m in the middle of a gunfight.
I hold the throttle and look at my cargo floating in space, abandoned by the pirate. The other ships are busy fighting, and I still have some collector limpets. I shouldn’t be this greedy, but I open the cargo hatch and release all my limpets, recollecting my hard-earned materials. The three ships pass beside us, and I hope that we’re not hit by mistake. When we are almost finished picking up all the materials, another ship drops to normal space. The pirate’s friend with another Python. I close the cargo hatch, engage the FSD, push the throttle all the way forward, and activate the engine’s boost. The deep rumble and the throaty roar announcing that the ship is using its full power, making the hull vibrate. I’m not betting on those cops now. I shout aloud in celebration when the hyperdrive gets us into supercruise. Take that Cmdr. Peta, who needs a shield now?
We get out of supercruise at the station location, the massive structure always rotating to provide artificial gravity. I ask for dock authorization, which they grant automatically. I’m hovering my finger on the panel, almost turning the docking computer on. The docking computer can save a lot of work and, nine out of ten times, lands the ship safely. But sometimes it miscalculates the station’s rotation and grazes the Type-9 on the mail slot. This is usually not a problem, but with only six percent of hull integrity I’m not taking any chances.
I take manual control and carefully pilot the ship to the station’s entrance. When we’re right in front of it I synchronize our rotation to the station’s, adjusting it every second. Getting a one hundred meters city block through this portal is not an easy task. I can already see the station’s interior, the two-kilometer-wide hollow cylinder. The internal surface is filled with spaceports, highways, and even leisure parks.
We’re halfway through the gate, entering the internal atmosphere when I hear the familiar low-frequency hum, cut by high-pitched turbine-like whine. I look forward and see a Fer-de-Lance boosting directly towards me. The pilot, probably a teenager, didn’t bother to check which ship was entering the station. Any other ship and he could pass beside us, but the Type-9 takes almost the entirety of the mail slot. He hammers us, his shield absorbing the hit, but to my shieldless ship this was the final blow.
I’m ejected, propelled into the station’s atmosphere, flying away from my ship. I turn myself around, floating alone inside the station, just to watch my ship exploding with hours of mining work and hundreds of millions in equipment.
I try to chuckle, thinking that Cmdr. Peta is going to laugh at this. Next time I’ll use a shield.

I use a 1ml syringe for injections 2x/week and just realized that after the plunger is all the way down there’s still residual test. left behind. If I pull back on the plunger, it seems to be about .04ml of the .25ml remaining.
Question…is this waste taken into account by manufacturers or am I supposed to use the air bubble method and inject the remaining? New to this and want to make sure I’m getting my dosage right.

(Pt. 1) An additional thanks to u/An_Insufferable_NEWT for letting me borrow one of his characters.
...And now for the conclusion.
​
= = =
​
Evelra swore. They had come here to uplift humanity from barbarism, not let the powers that be enable humanity’s worst elements while the selfsame Noble cunts indulged in their own pubescent masturbatory power fantasies. Fuck this. She thought to herself with a growl and flicked her comms channel to all units.
​
“All forces, this is Captain Evelra. The goddess-damned governess’s private militia have opened fire on the civies. Arrest those brother-fucking [bastards] on sight before they can fuck this mess up any further!” She barked over the comms, a bit of local English slipping into her words. She couldn’t call them stiffs; the latter had more class than this.
​
“Capt, we’ve got three APCs in militia markings barreling down the road in front of the Governess’s mansion from the west. ETA 30 seconds. This is about to get messy.” Prex’s voice cut in with a false calm lent by years of experience.
​
Evelra could feel the material of her suit creak as her hands briefly tightened into hardened fists. “All west side Pods converge on Pod 7, support Lieutenant Eleynor. Eastern Pods, evac the civies. And Prex? Keep the late arrivals occupied. Don’t let these fuckers get another shot off.” She growled, her Second giving a brief click of acknowledgement over the comms before switching channels to give orders of her own.
​
Turning back to face Isaiah, Evelra reached a hand down to grab the elder by his medical exoskeleton and hoisted him to his feet. “Looks like the Governess ran out of patience. Get your people out of here, we’ll deal with this.” She explained brusquely, jabbing one finger towards the eastern side of the boulevard. She could apologize for womanhandling him later, right now every second counted.
​
The moment she was sure he had his feet under him, the marine captain let go and tried to move on Eleynor’s position with all due haste. “Out of the way! MOVE!” Evelra shouted as she strode forward, the sea of humans doing their best to get out of her path. Already, people were starting to scramble as panic spread like wildfire. She could hear the cries of terror and confusion all around her; shouted orders from the protest organizers and her own marines were almost inaudible against the din as they tried to control the chaos.
​
As she neared pod 7’s position, a horrifying scene unfolded before her. In the shadow of the buildings, at least a dozen of the protesters were currently on fire. Harsh yellow and orange flames rose from the flailing figures to form hazy gray clouds of smoke that hung heavy in the air. Even more humans were covered in burn marks and charred clothes. One woman just sat there, trembling and numb from shock as she stared her bloody arm; the melted remains of her synthetic shirt peeling away with boiled skin. Amidst the chaos, the other protesters were doing everything from trying to help the wounded and burning to running in panic and terror; the latter creating a solid wave of bodies in front of Evelra as they stumbled over one another to flee the danger.
​
From out of sight, she saw one of the Governess’ militia-kitted thugs go flying; only to watch them get back up and charge in to fight whom Evelra assumed to be Pod 7. Shil’vati might be stronger, but when equally equipped, outnumbered and against human reflexes she knew that fight wasn’t going to end well for her girls if the rest of the western Pods didn’t reach them soon. Then, one of the militiamen stepped forward towards the crowd.
​
As he strode boldly through the mayhem, Evelra could only watch while one of the protesters tried to confront him; the tide of humans preventing the marine captain from intervening. Inaudible words were exchanged, the protester shouting something as they gesticulated wildly. The Governess’ thug merely responded with two swift strikes of his rifle butt, first to the gut, then to the back of the head, the other man dropping like an anchor. In the distance, out of the corner of her eye, she numbly noted that the rest of the governess’ thugs had arrived and were using their APCs as cover between them and the Pods under Prexith’s command.
​
Evelra felt her gut sink as the militiamen shouldered his rifle once more, stepping out of the building’s shadow to take aim at the crowd. “EVERYBODY DOWN!” The marine captain roared as she planted her feet and pulled her sidearm in one smooth, practiced motion. Drawing a bead on the Governess’ thug, the panicked crowd tried to clear out of her way; but there were just too many people. She wasn’t going to make it in time. No, no more. Not-
​
The militiaman’s head disappeared.
​
A split second later, the now infamously familiar thunderous crack and echoing roar of a large bore human chemical ballistic rifle rolled over them as the corpse spasmed on its feet; a shockwave visibly rippling through the suit it was wearing. “SNIPER!” Somebody bellowed. It might have been her, but in that moment she honestly couldn’t tell. As the headless body crumpled to the ground in a fountain of red, the same gun roared out again… and again. In the distance she could see two sudden sprays of red splatter up the sides of the Militia APCs, one right after the other.
​
The echoes of gunfire galvanized the crowd into a further panic, a stampede of human protesters slamming into Evelra in their attempt to get away from the violence. For a moment, the marine captain thought she was going to get dragged under by the wave, but then they rolled past her, leaving her staggering into the clear. With the screaming of the crowd now behind her and her ears still ringing from gunshots it was oddly quiet once more, save for the groans of the wounded.
​
Not letting herself fall into the lull, Evelra kept moving forward only to nearly gag at the smell as she approached the corner of the building. Like a Blue Grail left in the summer sun for a week, the air was heavy with a putrid smoke, reminiscent of the scent of death itself. Quickly sealing her helmet, she took a shuddering breath of fresh air before looking up just in time to see a pair of the Governess’s thugs get bodily tackled into the pavement by Eleynor. The rest of treasonous Militia were either surrendering or trying to run like the Deep-Minder itself was behind them as more Marine Pods came charging around nearby street corners.
​
Watching the last treasonous bastards eat pavement, the marine captain strode up to the Militaman’s corpse and picked up his blood-stained rifle. Quickly turning the weapon over in her hands, Evelra took one look at its settings and nearly threw the gun away in disgust. Medium power, maximum dispersal. Against even the most basic of modern armor, such settings would be practically useless; but would make for a decent, if imprecise, fire starter. Which is exactly what they’d done. Of course, leave it to the humans to figure out how to turn the most basic of weapons into a tool of terror. She thought bitterly, adjusting the beam spread back to something more logical before strapping it’s sling to her harness.
​
Now properly armed for anything else the Deep-Minder might decide to throw at her, Evelra flicked open her wrist-mounted omnipad, the integrated AR display in her helmet seamlessly linking to it. A couple quick taps later and the captain had an outgoing call. As the phone line rang in her ear, she tried not to tap her foot, every second feeling like ten.
​
“911, what’s your emer-”
​
Before the woman on the other end could even finish her sentence, Evelra interrupted her. “This is Captain Evelra of the Imperial Marines, 4032nd company. We have at least a dozen, I repeat, at least a dozen critically injured burn victims at the corner of 3rd and Main. I need emergency Medivac for the critically wounded.” She barked into the mic.
​
There was a momentary pause on the other end accompanied by the sounds of a physical keyboard before shortly being followed by a muffled “Fuck.” Evelra shifted impatiently as one second dragged into the next. “Is something the matter?” The marine growled.
​
“Ahh… No ma’am.” The other woman’s voice was uncertain for a moment before steadying back out. “Just bypassing some red tape. Consider it done. ETA, ten minutes.” She said with a thermocast firmness. Evelra briefly considered hounding the woman for what exactly she meant by ‘red tape’ but decided against it. She sounded confident in her statement and ultimately there was nothing else Evelra could do about it at the moment.
​
“I’m going to hold you to that.” The marine captain growled before hanging up. One down. Looking up, she glanced over the growing crowd of Marines. Already, some of her girls were pulling out medkits and burn patches as they moved to help injured protesters; her AR display highlighting their ranks and names.
​
“Sergeant Quixana!” Evelra barked over the din.
“Ma’am!” The medic shouted back over one shoulder, barely looking up from the burn victim she was currently treating.
​
“We have civilian medivac for the burn victims inbound, ETA ten minutes. You have command over Triage. Anyone in critical condition they can’t airlift out is your responsibility. Clear?” She commanded, watching the Governess’s thugs like a shark as her girls disarmed and secured them. At this point, Evelra honestly didn’t expect them to try anything else; but as always with humans, one never quite knew what they’d do.
​
“Affirmative!” Quixana replied. Taking a moment to ensure the woman she was treating wasn’t in immediate danger, the medic ushered another marine over to help and began shouting orders of her own. Two down. Satisfied that the situation was under control, Evelra keyed into her comms again.
​
“Prex, Sitrep.”
​
A couple moments later, the other woman’s voice came to life in her earpiece. “After the gunshots went off, the little fuckers started stumbling over each other to try and surrender. What in the Deep just happened?” Despite the horror around her, Evelra gave a short, mirthless chuckle. “Seems a certain… somebody decided to more than just ‘play’ at being security. And seeing as I still have my head, they’re not a complete bloodthirsty idiot.”
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“You certain it’s… them?” Prex asked, a hint of dubiousness in her voice.
​
“Given that there’s one of the Governess’s thugs sans their head while I still have mine? Yeah. About as certain as I can be. Fits what little we know about their M.O.” Evelra shot back.
​
There were several long moments of silence before her subordinate let out a low whistle. “Make that three. I’ve got two more over here. Definitely explains why the little Turoxes were so fucking panicky. What now Cap?”
​
“How many of your Pods do you need to secure your prisoners?” Evelra asked.
​
“Less than half. They’re more terrified of stepping back into the sights of that sniper than anything else, I think.” Prexith snorted, a dry hint of amusement in her voice.
​
“Take as many as you think you can spare from guard duty and go arrest the Governess. Alive. Though preventing her from causing any more damage takes priority. Clear?” Evelra’s voice was firm, the unspoken message clear. Try not to kill the bitch if at all possible, but ice her tits if she’s going to make this a problem.
​
“As a laser lens. Prex out.”
​
When the line clicked dead, the marine captain took a deep breath and tried to center herself. Now came the hard part.
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Politics.
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= = =
​
Evelra stopped outside the governess’ office and took a deep breath to steady herself. Within two hours of getting the fiasco under control, one Agent Lohun had arrived… along with three Pods of Death’s Head Commandos. Upon giving him her report, the petite male had thanked her and politely requested that she remain in her quarters until further notice. The marine captain had known better than to try and test those particular boundaries. It was only now, three days later, that she’d been summoned once more.
​
In spite of the not quite lockdown state that was currently in effect, word still traveled. Her orders to arrest the governess had been upheld and the bitch had been transferred out to some Interior facility goddess knows where. A minimal local press release had happened; condemning the governess’ actions and requesting cooperation with the authorities as they investigated the incident. Things were still tense, but the daily gathering of thousands of protesters had dwindled to a hundred or so of the most stubborn.
​
With a little shake to clear her head, Evelra opened the office door and stepped through. Behind the governess’ massive polished wooden desk sat Lohun. The petite male was almost comically out of place; his simple take on the Interior uniform clashing with the room’s ostentatious opulence. Rumor had it that since he was investigating the room’s previous owner, he’d simply co-opted the office rather than bother to set up another workspace elsewhere. Looking up from his omnipad and what she assumed was a proverbial mountain of reports, the Agent gave her a tired nod of acknowledgement.
​
“Good. You’re here. Please, take a seat Captain D’saari.” He said, gesturing to a much simpler chair in front of the desk. Wincing internally at his usage of her long-abandoned family name, Evelra complied and settled into the offered seat in silence as she tried not to look at the silent woman in the corner with the three-eyed skull mask. Lohun gave his omnipad one last glance before setting it down and letting his carefully focused gaze settle onto her.
​
“Six deaths.” He stated simply, letting the fact hang there in the air for a moment. “Only half of which were not the aggressors in this situation. That could have gone much, much worse. A job well done Captain.”
​
Evelra gave an awkward shrug. “Without the… unsolicited fire support it would have been. My girls just did the mop up.”
​
Lohun hummed, double-checking something on his omni-pad. “About that. The audio logs between you and your second indicated a certain familiarity with this assumed insurgent sniper, yet I can’t find any combat reports that you two share featuring any opposition with this kind of firepower. Care to explain what I’m missing here?” He asked calmly, a polite smile on his face; the Commando in the corner shifting her weight slightly.
​
Right. That.
​
A bundle of nerves did somersaults in her gut as she felt her throat go dry. “Ah, yeah. About… one local year ago we had a human male turn up dead. Clear signs of abuse. Autopsy report indicated he had both Nightfel and Viagra in him at the time of death. I had my suspicions, but the ensuing investigation never turned up any evidence.” The marine captain grimaced, scratching at one tusk with her thumbnail. “A few months later, A pod on a routine patrol got ambushed. All three of their heads were blown clean off. Big gun. I think you can guess what we found when we cleared out their belongings.”
​
“Nightfel and Viagra.” Lohun said cooly, his face grim.
​
Evelra nodded. “Yeah. The Governess covered the whole thing up in the name of keeping the peace. Released a statement that the young man’s murderers had been found and executed while redacting my report.”
​
Briefly adding a few notes on his omnipad, the Interior agent gave her a careful look. “Why didn’t you report this breach of protocol to the Interior?”
​
“Because it worked.” Evelra sighed. “Approval ratings ticked up, minor incidents went down. Didn’t hurt that I also publicly doubled down on mandatory etiquette training for my girls. I’ve seen enough of the Empire’s bureaucracy over the years to know better than to stir up the seabed over something like this. Justice was served, even if it was in a less than ideal manner.”
​
“And what about the young man’s family?” Lohun pressed, his gaze tightening.
​
Coughing slightly to clear her throat, Evelra looked away as she felt her cheeks heat up. “Officially, they were given the same story as everyone else. However, I… I may have taken one Shel to visit their home and correct that mistake. They deserved to know.” She finished quietly, leaning forward in her chair to look down at the ground. Anywhere but at the male in front of her.
​
After several agonizingly long moments of silence, the marine captain glanced up to catch sight of Lohun slowly starting to nod. “Good. That’s good. We can work with that.”
​
At his words, Evelra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. In response, a ghost of a smile pulled at the edges of Lohun’s face. “Yes, you can relax now. You’re here to help me fix this mess, not to have your tits burned off.”
​
Evelra bobbed her head, eager for the change of topic. “Gladly. What can I do?”
​
The ghost of a smile on Lohun’s face broadened slightly, hovering on the edge of a smirk. “Simple. You will be taking over as the Local Governess.” The marine captain felt her jaw go slack as the Interior Agent calmly continued along as if he was discussing something as simple as dinner reservations.
​
“Of course, there’s a plethora of steps to take along the way. In recognition of your service to the citizens of the empire, you will be promoted two ranks to Lieutenant Colonel and discharged with full honors. We’ll then need somebody to fill your current position. One Sergeant… Prexith Van’sar, your current second, should do nicely. With her service record she's certainly earned herself a commission, I think.” He scoffed in amusement, shaking his head at some distant thought. “Deep, her accolades are almost as impressive as her penchant for avoiding promotions. It’s my hope though that continuing to work with you should be enough to dissuade her of that particular tendency.”
​
Lohun finally took a proper pause, as if he was only now taking in her shock. “Is something the matter Captain D’saari?”
​
As Evelra heard him refer to her by her family name again something inside her broke. The sheer absurdity of it all was just too much, and a noise of amusement escaped her mouth. It started as a snort, before growing into a full-on barks of laughter as Evelra shook her head in disbelief. “I- I’m sorry, but you want me, the legally disowned, stiff-sprung cunt to be a local governess? Goddess, you all must be getting desperate if you’re willing to dredge up the cast-off chaff of the noble houses.”
​
Lohun merely quirked an eyebrow at her before briefly consulting his omnipad again. “So that explains the three separate attempts to change your last name… aannd probably why all three of them never went anywhere.” He let out a small humph as a flicker of distaste crossed his face. “An easy enough fix.”
​
“Goddess. You’re serious.” Evelra muttered as she slumped back in her chair, trying to process the implications. “Ok. Why me?” She asked, throwing a hand wide.
​
The Interior agent’s gaze focused in on her as he leaned forward onto the table, steepling his fingers. “Because Captain, over the past three days I have spent an exhaustive amount of time interviewing and interrogating people to get a better handle on what happened and why. Your name came up just as, if not, more frequently than the governess’s; and rarely in a negative light. From both Shil’vati and humans. Deep, even some of the ones that looked like they wanted to spit in my face refused to speak ill of you. Do you understand how goddess-damned rare that is?” Lohun finished, his voice raised and projected, not quite reaching an actual shout.
​
Evelra was sorely tempted to argue. She’d spent most of her adult life trying to get as far away from the nobility and politics as she could, as nothing good in her life had ever come from them. Then her conversation with Isaiah flashed through her mind. Fuck. The marine captain let out a disgusted groan of frustration as she rubbed her face with one hand. “Alright… but how?” She asked, her brain fervently grasping at straws. “I mean no offense, but… isn’t that a little outside your authority as an Interior Agent?..”
​
Once more, a slight grin pulled at the agent’s face. “Ah yes. Perhaps some reintroductions are in order. Independent Investigator Lohun Vey’elquiese of the Empress’s own and an Agent of her Interior. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Evelra?..” He said smoothly, letting the end of his sentence hang as he leaned across the massive table to offer a petite fist.
​
Oh.
​
For one long moment, Evelra’s brain short-circuited. The petite little male sitting across from her answered to only perhaps a dozen people in the entire Empire, and had the authority to make individuals such as system governesses simply disappear. Of course, abuse of said power carried the death penalty, not that one of the Empress’s own handpicked agents were likely to make that kind of mistake. Suddenly, the three pods of Death’s Head Commandos accompanying him made much, much more sense.
​
After a couple seconds of slight panic, her brain caught back up and she processed the question he’d carefully interwoven into his reintroduction. Taking a moment to think, she settled on her answer. With a slight smile of her own, she reached out her hand to tap her knuckles to his.
​
“Van’sar. Evelra Van’sar. And the pleasure is all mine Investigator.”

--- Table of Contents ---
Summer 4984, 13 Doumoth
“Ugh! I hate this!” Daisy whined loudly, letting her head fall back to stare at the ceiling.
“Almost done…” Rerves said to reassure her, though he lacked his usual smile.
Ania picked up the last piece of armor, a steel vambrace, and began polishing with a groan to match Daisy’s, “When we aren’t cleaning, we're polishing, when we aren’t polishing, we're cleaning. How is this Paladin training?”
“If I wanted to be a servant, I would've joined their guild…” Thom’s small voice chimed in.
Shon said nothing. The five Squires, Shon, Daisy, Thom, Rerves, and Ania, sat under a shade in the Temple courtyard, polishing the knights' spare armor for the hundredth time. The sun beat down mere feet away, reflecting off the finished pieces as the shadow of their shade crept closer and closer, the sun climbing towards noon. The yard was mostly clear, the Paladins not on duty retreating into the cool stone fortress while those on duty only occasionally coming to check on the Squires' progress.
Ania had the right of it. Ever since they'd moved into the Temple proper and became official Squires, the five of them had done nothing but clean, polish, and memorize armor and weapon vocabulary. And complain… the others always complained. Shon just sighed as the four others continued to gripe. There was no point in it, the work needed to be done, and they were the ones assigned to do it. It didn’t matter how annoying or monotonous it might be.
Sometimes the younger Paladins would join them in polishing, caring for their own armor while the Squires worked on the spare pieces. The spares were used mainly by the enlisted, and only if they hadn’t finished buying their own sets yet. Occasionally a Paladin would check out a set to practice with. Although most of them had a preferred style, they needed to stay proficient with all types. At least that meant only half of the pieces the Squires had to clean were still polished from the day before. If the armor was never used, it really would be a useless task, instead of half useless as it seemed now.
The Paladins never complained…
The Squires hadn’t started out tired and annoyed. Daisy and Shon had been joined after their first week by Thom and Rerves, who both came from the capital city. They'd been friends growing up, Rerves was a noble, and Thom's family worked as their personal stewards, one step up from servants. A week after that, Ania arrived from a small village in the south. Only having known one Paladin and having never seen a proper Temple before, she'd been in awe of the fortress Temple of the city for at least a month. But then the excitement had given way to frustration, and -for Shon at least- boredom. And so the others had started complaining.
Their relationship with each other had started out warm enough. They stayed up late into the night, sharing their histories and dreams of their future as full Paladins. Shon joined them when prompted but mostly preferred to listen. He didn’t think he had any stories worth sharing, though they had bombarded him with questions after Veon-Zih’s first training visit. Just like everyone else, they didn’t seem to know how to deal with Shon’s quiet nature. But unlike everyone else, they hadn’t pulled away and stopped talking to him altogether. Except when they complained. Shon never complained. He didn’t see the point. When asked, he would say that they needed to follow orders. So they'd stopped asking him.
Shon held his last piece of steel plate carefully by the leather straps, wiping the last bit of polish off with a clean rag. He could see his reflection distorted by the curves and dings, and wondered if he could manage to draw the changes accurately when given a chance. The tinking of metal on metal sounded in the distance, and the Squires' heads shot up, followed by their bodies as they scrambled to their feet to salute the woman approaching.
General Rasnah was resplendent as always in her uniform, the chains of office clinking on her shoulders. She walked towards the Squires with her head held high and her hands clasped behind her back. With her was Master Veon-Zih and Shon felt his spirits rise just a little higher.
“At ease, Squires.” Sir Rasnah said as she drew to a stop just outside their shade. She waited until they'd taken the formal 'at ease' position, legs shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind their back, “Report.”
Rerves took charge, as usual, “Sir, we're nearly done, Sir.”
“Just one piece left, Sir,” Ania added, then blushed furiously as she usually did whenever addressing a high-ranking officer.
Sir Rasnah nodded, then glanced to the sky. She then looked to Veon-Zih, who smiled and shrugged. Her lips turned up on half her face in what could almost be called a grin before she cleared it, serious again as she addressed the Squires, “You may have the afternoon off. Report to the kitchens and evening duties before sixth bell.”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” the Squires spoke in unison, Shon’s four fellows grinning broadly and sneaking happy glances at one another.
They held their positions until Sir Rasnah turned away, walking back to the Temple proper and leaving them to their freedom. Veon-Zih remained behind, smiling warmly at them and addressing Shon, “Lunch? I found a fine eatery a few blocks away.”
Shon nodded, finally smiling with the rest, “And practice?” he asked.
“After food,” Veon-Zih answered, stepping aside and gesturing towards the gates. Shon rushed to help the others put the clean and polished armor away, then jogged to Veon-Zih before falling into step with him as they left the Temple.
Veon-Zih waited until they were well clear of the gates before asking, “So what do you think of your fellow Squires?”
Shon sighed in answer, which made Veon-Zih chuckle for some reason. But the sigh hadn’t really answered the question, so Shon said, “They complain a lot.” he probably could have, and should have, come up with something nicer to say. But after hours of hearing them gripe while they worked, it was the only thing on Shon’s mind.
“There's nothing wrong with complaining, you know.” Veon-Zih mused. Shon merely shook his head. The knights never complained; he'd been watching them. If there was a job that needed to be done, they would do it. His fellow Squires seemed to complain before, during, and after every unpleasant assignment. Though never in front of the Paladin giving it.
“Do you honestly think the knights like polishing armor? Do you like polishing that much? Maybe you should've come to the Monastery after all. We don’t wear armor, but we have many fine statues that all need to be polished every day. Every little nook and cranny scrubbed clean and shining.”
He glanced at Shon with a grin, then leaned over to whisper, “They hate it too, but just like your fellows won’t complain in front of them, they won’t complain in front of you.”
“It needs to be done…” Shon tried to argue, though it sounded hollow considering his own, though silent, annoyance.
“A perfect excuse,” Veon-Zih stated, turning sharply down a side road, so Shon had to jog to keep up, “There are many reasons spare armor needs to be polished. The most obvious is that it's needed to stay in good repair. The task is assigned to Squires because it gets you intimately familiar with armor beyond just naming the parts. And because no one else wants to do it.
“That doesn’t mean we should be complaining about it…”
“Not in front of the officers, no. But amongst each other? Why not?”
Shon furrowed his brow but didn’t have an answer. Veon-Zih gave him one, “Joint misery creates companionship. Even if you have nothing else in common, everyone knows you all hate polishing already clean armor. Right now, I bet your fellow Squires are scratching their heads, wondering if you do actually enjoy the task. Some might even be wondering if they're worthy of being Squires. Since they complain, and you don’t.”
Shon’s steps faltered. Would they really think he was more worthy than them? For something so trivial as chores? He had to rush to catch up and argued, “But there's no point in complaining. We have to do it anyway.”
Veon-Zih sighed and stopped walking. He waited for Shon to turn to him then said, “But my statement still stands. Joint misery creates companionship. Your fellows take a risk in voicing their complaints to you, hoping that they're not alone in their opinions. What if they're the only ones who hate it? What if that really does mean they aren’t meant for the Temple? Just because they can channel divine magic doesn’t mean Hengist will choose them.”
Shon let himself ponder that for a while. The other Squires always seemed so sure of themselves, so excited to begin real training. Did they really have doubts and fears the same as he did? And what did that say about his assumptions? That they would complain and the knights didn’t? Was he actually judging his fellows as unworthy without realizing it?
“The Paladins really complained when they were Squires too?” he asked.
“I guarantee it.” Veon-Zih answered and started walking again, “I know I did, and all the other Monks in my class too.” he chuckled, “Sometimes routines like cleaning and polishing can be meditative. You can let your mind wander while your hands work through the familiar motions. But before you get to that point, or if you would rather be doing something of your choosing, then it's nothing but monotonous work. Necessary work, but still work.”
Following Veon-Zih around another corner, Shon pondered his Master’s words. They got all the way to the little eatery the Monk had been looking for, even took their seats, and gave their orders before Shon spoke again.
“I hate platemail the most…” he said. Veon-Zih arched an eyebrow at him, and he continued, “It’s bulky, and there's just so much of it. Then as soon as you're done, someone moves it aside and gets fingerprints on it again. Chainmail isn’t much better. You can’t see the fingerprints, but it’s hard to get the oil between the links. And yet water obviously has no problem with it because that’s where all the rust is.”
Veon-Zih laughed boisterously, throwing his head back and startling those at the closest table, “I hated the creases in the palms of the statues the most,” Veon-Zih held up his hand, his forefinger and thumb forming a circle, the other fingers extended, “how can so much dust cake itself in such a small space in only a day?” he complained, dropping his hand and shaking his head.
The waitress brought them their stew and drinks, and Shon started eating while Veon-Zih thanked her. Picking up his spoon, the Monk paused as he dipped it into his bowl, musing, “I wonder which parts your fellow Squires dislike the most?” Shon didn’t know, but he wanted to. Would they agree with him that the plate was the most frustrating? Daisy seemed to groan loudest at the leather, but their complaining always seemed to be general moans at the work as a whole…
“Maybe I’ll ask,” Shon mumbled, embarrassed for some reason.
“Or,” Veon-Zih took his first bite, then pointed at Shon with his spoon, “you could just tell them your least favorite, and they will open up and share their own.”
That’s what they expected of him, wasn’t it? They expected him to join in the conversation, not just answer questions… Shon could only nod.
***
Shon had grown so much. It was difficult for Veon-Zih to watch him without smiling. Only a head shorter than his Master, Veon-Zih could still see the ten-year-old oddity he'd spied upon almost four years ago in the church courtyard. And yet, he had grown so much. Veon-Zih wondered if anyone else could see it.
They practiced in one of the parks in the noble’s district. Veon-Zih thought it was important that Shon get out of Temple whenever possible, that he see the city and its people, to remember what he was training for, and why he wanted to fight. Shon was more like Veon-Zih, and his order of Monks than the boy would ever know. Or admit. He strove for perfection. Every punch, kick, and kata they worked through needed to go exactly right, or he would do it again. Like many Monks, Shon found true enjoyment in the process of working and growing better than his past self. But he was also different in a critical way. Shon wanted to use his strength. Wanted to protect people, fight evil. Many Monks never left the Monastery. A single Grandmaster could easily fell a small raiding force alone. Yet, so many chose not to fight outside their sparring rings and training.
Even Veon-Zih hadn’t left the Monastery because he wanted to help those locked outside its walls. He'd left because he believed he couldn't attain the perfection he strove for inside them. He'd wanted to be tested by the world, to rise to the challenges life presented and overcome them with his discipline and practice. Along the way, he'd learned to be more like Shon was naturally. He'd made friends from other orders, and saved countless non-combatants. Only after seeing the results of his fights, the grateful families reunited, had he realized the moral folly in his fellows and in himself.
They practiced and even sparred until well after fifth bell. The display at first earned them a few disapproving glares from the nobles and servants passing the park. Then they'd actually attracted a few spectators, who clapped as though watching a show. Shon blushed furiously at this, his pale cheeks growing pink as he tilted his head down, trying to let what was left of his now short hair slip down to hide his face. Yet, he never lost step or stopped the training. Veon-Zih had barely resisted laughing, though if more at the foolish watchers or his embarrassed student, he wasn’t sure.
Veon-Zih finally called their training to a halt, and Shon glowered at him. The boy had nearly gotten in his first solid hit in their sparring and was obviously reluctant to stop after making such progress. “It’s nearly time for you to get back, and Sir Rasnah will not accept me as an excuse for tardiness.” Shon’s eyes went wide, and fear replaced the look of frustration on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at the sky to try and gauge the hour.
Veon-Zih chuckled, “I’ll race you back.” he said, a hint of mischief seeping through his voice. Shon arched an eyebrow and Veon-Zih could practically hear his thoughts. Run? Through town? You must be joking. “There's no law against running,” Veon-Zih argued with the boy’s expression, “Every moment offers us an opportunity to train. We're late, so this is the perfect opportunity to test our speed against time and run.”
Shon alternated his arched brow to the other side, looking down the road then back to Veon-Zih before confirming, “A race?”
In answer, Veon-Zih ran. He sprinted past Shon -though not at his full speed- before slowing down just enough to keep things fair. Shon bolted after him. Nobles, servants, and even a few guards gasped and called out in indignation as Veon-Zih and Shon swerved around them on the wide roads of the nobles' quarter. They were forced to slow when they reached the more densely packed streets in the city center. Shon was careful to run around the people doing their shopping but kept his eyes set ahead, planning his route and scaring those who noticed him out of the way with his intense blue stare. Veon-Zih was much more confident in his ability not to hit people and so brushed much closer, never quite knocking into them but often brushing their clothes as he passed.
Ahead a cart laden with crates and barrels ambled across the thoroughfare, and Shon slowed to a jog, trying to run around it. Veon-Zih lept, landing on his hands on the cart and propelling himself up and over before hitting the ground again and continuing the race. He heard the merchant curse and the bystanders gasp in surprise but was more amused at the growl of frustration that came from his student, who put on an extra burst of speed to try and catch up. Veon-Zih was half tempted to let him and half tempted to sprint all out and leave the boy in his dust. He chose to do neither and just laughed, continuing at the pace he'd set and soon coming into view of the Temple gates.
The Paladins on watch saw him coming and exchanged confused and nervous glances, drawing their swords but not barring his path. Veon-Zih didn’t slow his run until he reached the knights. Turning to the side and planting his feet, he slid past them on the cobblestones. Turning back as he slid to a stop, he found one of the Paladins facing him as though ready to fight and the other facing out as though looking for whatever force had sent Veon-Zih sprinting for the Temple.
Shon slowed to a jog and stopped before the knight facing him, breathing hard. “What’s going on? Squire report.” the Paladin demanded, still holding his sword at the ready.
Shon had to take a moment to catch his breath but eventually managed to gasp out, “Race…” before looking absolutely horrified at what he'd just done and said. “Sir…” he added quietly as if that might somehow make his unconventional arrival more acceptable.
“And you managed to keep up with him?” Sir Rasnah appeared from beyond the gate, arching a steely eyebrow and drawing sharp salutes from the Paladin guards who finally sheathed their swords.
“I went easy on him,” Veon-Zih assured her, earning a glare from Shon, who passed through the gates, still breathing deeply but no longer gasping for air. Veon-Zih hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Rasnah looked between the Master and student, finally settling on Shon, “Oh, don’t look at him like that, Squire. Master Veon-Zih could beat a riderless horse in a foot race.” which drew a befuddled look from Shon and a laugh from Veon-Zih.
“General Rasnah, Sir,” another man ran towards the gates wearing the uniform of an enlisted. A messenger from the city gates.
“It seems today is a good day for running,” Veon-Zih quipped as the guards allowed the man to pass and give his report.
“A wyvern has been spotted over the woods near Lakeland,”
Sir Rasnah didn’t respond right away. She narrowed her eyes at the messenger and spoke to Shon, “You have duties, Squire, hop to it.”
Shon saluted, though Rasnah still wasn’t looking at him. He glanced at Veon-Zih curiously, then turned to follow the orders.
Veon-Zih hesitated but decided to follow Shon. If he was needed, Rasnah would let him know.
“A wyvern?” Shon asked in a whisper.
“An abomination,” Veon-Zih explained, “Monstrous beasts with a body as large as a wagon, not including the tail. They fly like birds and will hunt anything that strays into their territory, including humans.”
Shon’s brow furrowed, and Veon-Zih patted him on the shoulder, “It'll be alright. They rarely attack settlements unless they're starving.” Which was good because a single wyvern could destroy a small town.
“What will the Temple do?” Shon asked as they reached the back door to the kitchens.
“That depends… most likely, they'll send a group to the village and watch the skies.”
“They won’t hunt it?”
“Maybe, and maybe not. Wyverns are dangerous enough that it’s a real risk to hunt one, but they also can’t be allowed to harm nearby towns. The Temple of Saint Giorgos will want it destroyed, but Sir Rasnah won’t needlessly risk her men if it isn’t necessary.” Veon-Zih explained.
Shon thought for a moment, then asked, “Have you ever fought a wyvern?”
Veon-Zih tried to make his smile reassuring, "Twice. Though I would rather not try a third time if it can be avoided.”
***
“Red, what're you doing?” Ran asked.
She rolled Her eyes, focusing again on what She was doing and not bothering to answer him. Her fingers ached, but She worked them into the cracks between the stones of the tower wall, shifting Her weight from one hand to the other and searching out the next handhold.
Brom laughed, and She heard the slap and woosh of breath as he pat Ran on the back hard enough to knock the air from the thinner man’s lungs, “Can’t you tell? She’s climbing!”
“Sort of…” Ran mumbled.
She wasn’t climbing up the wall, as much as She wanted to. Instead, She was up only about a foot off the ground and working Her way sideways around the tower. “Afraid of falling, Red?” Ran asked instead. That question was even more stupid than the last, and She arched Her neck back, holding tight to the wall and looking at him upside down.
“Really?” She asked in response to his denseness. He should know She wouldn’t be afraid of falling. She had fallen many times when She'd braved climbing the trees around the perimeter. Even broke Her arm once, and that hadn’t stopped Her from trying again with the splint still on. But that was when they used to let Her out more often, about once every other week. No, the thing that kept Her from climbing up the wall was the same thing that had stopped Her climbing trees. The same thing that stopped Her running around the tower at top speed while Brom or Ran kept time and She tried to beat Her record. And the same thing that kept Her from even crossing the tree line to play pretend in the woods.
Ran had the decency to look embarrassed, realizing his mistake eventually. There was only one thing that ever stopped Her from doing what She wanted, and even that often took multiple ‘lessons’ each time. Morndancer had grown increasingly erratic and more often violent of late. He would mutter to himself in draconic then give opposite orders to the journeymen and apprentices in common. Though everyone in the tower spoke both languages. He would lock himself in his room for days and hadn’t been back to visit his family or the Mages Guild in weeks. Shaloon would cover for him, but she wasn’t much better, cutting holes in reality and staring into the outer plains for hours on end, whispering. Half her words in draconic and the other half in common, mixing the languages in the same sentence.
Brom and Ran had refused to talk to Her about it, but She had listened at Her door when they thought She was sleeping. The Archmages were going mad. The eventual cost of power, they said. Though neither seemed upset that the same would happen to them eventually. Perhaps their lack of concern was the first sign they'd already started.
She continued Her climb, putting Her worries about Brom and Ran’s sanity out of Her mind for the time being. She would have plenty of time to stew about it when She was locked in Her room. For now, She wanted to enjoy being outside in the brief summer warmth.
A burst of sudden wind from above set Her hair whipping about Her face and nearly cost Her grip on the stones. Squeezing Her eyes shut, She tried to shake Her hair back, blowing at the strands against another huge gust before something heavy shook the ground behind her. She let Her head fall back again, so Her hair fell away from Her face, and She could see what had come upside down. The sight caused Her to fall off the wall.
Landing hard on Her backside, She scrambled to Her feet in a mix of awe and horror. A monster large enough to fill Her entire room and then some, stood in the clearing around the tower. It had a long sinuous neck and dull brown scales. It walked on great taloned legs in the back and the joints of its leathery wings in the front. It snapped at Archmage Shaloon as she jumped from its neck to the ground, its teeth as long as daggers and looking just as sharp. It didn’t bite the Archmage, who ignored it as she approached the journeymen.
“What are you three doing out here?” she demanded, mixing draconic with common and glaring at the two men who, for some reason, looked ashamed despite the permission they'd gotten to be out today.
The Firewyrm ignored the question, asking one of Her own, “What is that?” She pointed at the monster, not sure if She felt sad or disgusted at the sight of it. Both seemed odd emotions to have at the sight of a beast that could eat Her in two bites.
Fingers snapped, and She flinched, reaching for Her collar. The monster let out a strangled roar, thrashing its head wildly, its own copper collar shimmering with light and magic. “Another failure of our predecessors, thousands of years ago.” Morndancer exited the tower, his robes billowing around him.
Another snap, and the Firewyrm flinched again. But Shaloon just snorted, sneering at the other Archmage after stopping his torment of her mount, “The north-western Talon was gracious enough to lend us this sample after years of training. It should come in handy with the local draken who worship its kind as gods.” the beast snarled at the humans just out of reach but didn’t step any closer, digging its talons deeper into the ground and hissing, “It was a great success after the slaying. We’ve only had one greater.” she glanced at the Firewyrm who tilted Her head at the two of them, curious for more but sure they wouldn’t give it to Her.
Archmage Morndancer dismissed the defense of the monster’s existence with a snort, “And yet we are still facing the same problems as those before us. What information do you have?”
“A storm hit out at sea, and there are signs of another possibly brewing in Halakon.”
Ran swallowed nervously, and Brom stuttered, “Should we…?”
“No.” Morndancer answered the unfinished question, “There is only one thing that can stop these storms, and we are the only ones willing to make the sacrifices to do it.” he turned away from them, returning to the tower door before glancing over his shoulder, “Get back inside, we need more samples if we are to make up for our own successful failure.”
***
“Saint Giorgos says the wyverns are the last vestiges of the dragon’s evil in the skies…” Sir Rasnah sipped her tea thoughtfully.
Father Branston snorted, “Yes yes, and drakes are their evil on land, and leviathans their evil at sea. They are beasts, Rasnah, as old as memory.”
“Branston's right,” Veon-Zih shrugged, rolling his teacup between his hands, “They're terrible beasts with some magic to them, but they're no more intelligent than a drakwalf or horse.”
They sat together in Father Branston’s office to enjoy warm tea and a colorful sunset through his massive windows. But none of them could really relax with the news of a wyvern flying around the woods to the north. Just to the west of Hamerfoss.
“They've been known to hunt for sport,” Rasnah reminded them, her face pained at the memory.
“So do house cats.”
“House cats don’t pick off entire barbarian tribes over the course of a week.”
"I'm sure they would if they could,"
Branston sighed, reaching for his teapot and pouring himself another cup, “What will you do? If you need healers, I have a few skilled enough to go.”
Rasnah sighed, rubbing her forehead and resting her cup in her lap, “Perhaps one. I’ll send a group to watch. If it's sighted again, we'll have to do something.”
Veon-Zih cleared his throat to get her attention and arched a questioning eyebrow her way. The Paladin returned the look with a smile and said, “I will make sure they have a sending stone. If you're needed, I’m sure they'll wait for you to arrive before seeking it out.” her smile faded, and she stared into her cup, “If they really are vestiges of dragons then I suppose Saint Giorgos is right and all of them were evil.”
“Having a crisis of faith, Rasnah?” Branston asked softly, but with a smile, “Legends say Hengist was allied with goodly dragons.”
“Dragons of Gold and Silver and all the precious metals,” Veon-Zih finished for him, then added, “None of that matters anymore. All we can do is face the challenges life presents us with in the here and now.”
“Of course,” Rasnah agreed, looking up at her old friends and managing a lopsided grin, “And now we have a wyvern possibly claiming territory in our forests. Do you think Daunas will want to join the hunt? If necessary,” she added at the end.
“Mung's boy? He’s still stationed at Hamerfoss then?” Branston asked.
Veon-Zih chuckled, “I don’t believe he would forgive you if you didn’t let him.” his chuckle died, and the three gazed mournfully out the window. Remembering their last wyvern fight, and their friend lost in bringing it down. It had been their last adventure together.
-End of Part 1-
--- Table of Contents ---
All comments and are welcome and wanted.

I know this a touchy subject and probably a super unpopular opinion. I myself am a bit conflicted on it but my experience last night was not something I’ve experienced on other tours. My entire section was almost exclusively parents and young toddlers. So. Many. Very. Young. Kids.
Really disappointing at first because my idea of a good time at a show is to dance, smoke a couple of joints, and listen to some great music with other heads. Most of the kids sat on their tablets the entire time.
One of the parents kept insisting that I smoke and that his kids wouldn’t even know what it was but I still just didn’t feel comfortable smoking around kids. I finally took a few hits when it got dark out thinking it’d be a little more discreet and, almost immediately, another family behind me starts telling their kids (loud enough that I’d hear) how people who smoke weed are losers and wasted potential and how the kids shouldn’t kill their brains. Probably great advice for a kid but… c’mon.
As soon as I heard that, I ditched the seats and found a spot on the lawn where I danced my ass off. Still a bit disappointing to have to leave great seats though.
I know the general sentiment is that kids are welcome at Dead shows but am I the only one who gets a bit put off by having to sit near them?

As the pack of Black Wolves swarmed the Wendigo, Elincia and I crawled behind the ferns trying to get away from the fight. Part of me knew I was being a burden to Elincia. With her night vision and elvish agility, she could probably break through the circle of Black Wolves.
The fight intensified, the chaotic barking of the wolves was deafening and the screeching cries of the Wendigo filled the valley as it clawed and crushed the lesser monsters in its wake.
Suddenly, a Black Wolf landed in front of us. Elincia's eyes were wide open and her face blanched, devoid of the little color it naturally had. The Black Wolf was wounded, its hind legs broken and its ribs exposed like white knives protruding through its skin. Elincia nocked an arrow but she wasn’t fast enough. The wolf let out a long howl before the arrow landed between its eyes.
Elincia’s eyes reflected pure and distilled terror as the Wendigo leaned over the ferns, just by our side, with its eyes fixed on the corpse of the Black Wolf. For a brief moment, the moon lit up the body of the monster. It was a tall bipedal creature with leathery slate-black skin. Its limbs were long and gnarled, and ended in long brackish claws. Its face was covered by an ivory deer-like skull. The slits in the skull revealed two bloodshot eyes that surveyed the surroundings with ill intent.
The System description said that the Wendigo was once a powerful shaman who got turned into a monster by corrupted mana. A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered what kind of unholy metamorphosis had created such a creature.
The Wendigo waded the fern bed, just above our hideout. I could hear the Wendigo’s heavy breathing above my head. The smell of rot was almost unbearable. Elincia covered her mouth with both hands as the creature’s arm touched the ground a few centimeters from my leg. I changed the weight of my body and tried to fold my leg. A twig broke under my hand.
[Awareness]: You have been spotted.
The Wendigo’s eyes snapped directly to Elincia and before I realized what I was doing, I pulled the trigger, shooting point blank directly into the creature’s head. The muzzle flash lit the forest for an instant and my ears rang. The Wendigo stumbled back, burying its claws on a tree to not fall. The creature clung there as the blood poured from its shattered skull.
“Gottem!” I yelled, thinking the Wendigo was as good as dead.
Elincia grabbed the neck of my jacket and pulled me back through the ferns just as the Wendigo raked its claws in a deadly arc just a few centimeters from my face. The creature screeched in anger.
“How in the flying spaghetti monster is that fucker’s alive?!” I said as Elincia pushed me behind a boulder, out of the Wendigo’s reach.
“I don’t know what spell you just used, but stay put.” The woman yelled but her voice came muffled under the insistent ringing in my ears. Luckily, [Awareness] helped piece together what she had said.
Without waiting for any confirmation she turned around and ran through the forest, putting some distance between herself and the Wendigo. Elincia’s bright emerald eyes shone behind the bushes as she nocked an arrow and pointed at the creature. I noted a surge of mana emerging from the woman's body and the arrow head shone with a silvery gleam. She let go and the arrow whistled with an unnaturally high pitch, burying deep into the wendigo's calf.
Piercing Arrow. [Identify] Basic archery skill that improves the projectile’s piercing capacity.
The Wendigo’s screech rocked my spine and I knew I needed to put an end to the fight quickly. If the creature had enough defense to withstand a point blank shot, it should also have similar offensive capabilities.
Ignoring Elincia’s commands, I peeked over the boulder. The forest was pitch-black and the skeletal figure of the Wendigo blended with the trees.
“Come on, Robert, use your head.”
I hoped Elincia’s night vision didn’t make her eyes too sensitive to bright lights.
Pushing the mana out of my body I conjured a cold blue flame in the palm of my hand that illuminated the forest around me. Shredded corpses of a dozen Black Wolves covered the landscape.
The Wendigo stopped in its tracks and turned its head towards the flame of mana in my hand.
“Crap.”
Without hesitation, I raised the muzzle of my shotgun and fired. The spray of metal shredded through the Wendigo’s spidery arm, leaving it hanging from a single tendon. The wound was gruesome but it wasn’t enough to stop it. The Wendigo glared at me and crossed the distance between us in a heartbeat.
With no time to reload, I dropped the shotgun and reached for my knife.
My hand closed around the handle of my knife and set my mana free. A swirl of shining blue particles surrounded me and turned the small knife into a blazing shortsword that lit the forest around me.
[Swordsmanship] injected information directly into my brain. Distance, speed, trajectory. The Wendigo tried to tear me apart but I sidestepped to the right just in time to dodge, then, I hacked diagonally but the mana sword bounced off the Wendigo's healthy arm, leaving only a small scratch.
It was harder than the Elder Black Wolf.
My mana sword was enough to cut the skin of the creature, I only needed more power. I poured even more mana into my knife turning it into a blue beacon in the dark casting the shadows of the forest away. The mana blade grew until it was the length of a two handed sword.
Blood stained the Wendigo’s cracked skull and its wounded arm flailed around lifelessly. It might not be weak to buckshot but it was weak to magic. And I had a lot of magic. The Wendigo followed me with its gleaming red eyes. Its movements were cautious but I didn’t let my guard down. I had to fight defensively. If the monster reached me once, it was over.
Suddenly, an arrow bounced off the Wendigo’s skin. The creature seemed to forget about me because it turned around and bolted towards Elincia. Just as the Black Wolf had attacked me back in the ravine, the Wendigo seemed to prioritize the weaker combatant.
“Run, now!” Elincia yelled at me. She stood her ground, nocking a second arrow and aiming at the three meter tall creature running her way.
“You run!” I replied as I ran behind the Wendigo while [Awareness] fed a stream of information directly into my brain. I couldn’t let it reach Elincia.
There was no time to retrieve and reload my shotgun and no time to experiment with [Mana Manipulation]. I remembered my new skill. [Stun Gaze].
Without even reading the skill’s description, I looked at the Wendigo and activated [Stun Gaze]. The spell hit the creature and bounced back at me. A stabbing pain shot through my eye, and into my brain. I let out a grunt of pain and pressed my free hand against my face.
Skill failed! Wendigo Lv.39 cannot be stunned. [Identify] Your level is too low to perform this action successfully.
[Stun Gaze] seemed to anger the Wendigo because it tried to stop its frantic race towards Elincia, stumbling on its ruined arm and crashing against a tree. I pumped even more mana into my knife and the blade got longer, broader, and heavier. Part of my brain wondered why a mana blade could have weight if the mana itself was weightless, but the wounded screech of the Wendigo silenced my thoughts.
I couldn’t allow fear to paralyze me if I wanted to save Elincia.
[Awareness]: Frightened status, resisted.
I let my mana flow free, further increasing its length until it was hard to wield. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been thrown into an ice-cold pool. A shiver ran down my spine and I knew I couldn’t sustain my technique for long. My mana pool was getting dry.
You have obtained Mana Depletion (Advanced). Temporary
I ignored the system prompt. The Wendigo towered over me and tried to reach me with its sharp claws. I blocked with my mana sword and with a furious strike, I shredded the Wendigo’s claws. The creature staggered back as I waved the sword around like a giant torch on its face.
Another shiver ran down my spine, threatening to lock my joints in place, and I knew I didn’t have much mana left at all.
I used [Stun Gaze] again and braced for the pain. The spell ricocheted back at me and I felt a stabbing sensation in my eye. This time, the Wendigo froze for a millisecond, just enough for my [Swordsmanship] to find an opening. I slashed downward from left to right, putting all my strength in a single attack.
The blade sliced through the Wendigo’s skin, meeting more resistance as it went deeper into the creature’s body until it lodged deep within its chest. Instinctively, I tried to retrieve the sword but it was stuck. I closed my eyes and waited for the Wendigo’s claws to shred my body. But the blow didn’t arrive.
Dark crimson bloom of blood stained the Wendigo's hide, illuminated by the fading light of the mana blade. The Wendigo produced one last weak screech and fell to the ground just as the light of my blade failed.
Level up!
Level up!
Level up!
Level up!
Level up!
You have obtained Mana Depletion (Critical). Temporary
My vision blurred and my legs faltered, the only thing that kept me on foot was the mana sword stuck in the Wendigo’s spine. When my last speck of mana was burned, the blade disappeared and I fell back but before I could hit the ground, Elincia caught me.
“We fucking did it!” Elincia said with a frenzied smile on her face. Then, she wrapped me in a tight hug that pushed all the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t help but notice how strong her arms were.
If I had to guess, she had leveled up a couple of times.
I didn't want the embrace to end but Elincia pushed me back and helped me sit on the forest bed. The moonlight shone a hole in the canopy, casting silver sparkles on her hair. She smiled enthusiastically and patted my back with a little too much strength.
“I swear I thought we were dead, but then you raised the metal thingy and bam! One arm less! You were pretty cool out there.” Elincia beamed. Her chest went up and down at an alarming rate and she had to take a moment to calm down. “I think I’m still a little deaf.” She added with a smile from ear to ear.
Leveling up was a hell of a drug.
“Praise me more.” I rasped as I let out a weak laugh. Both my body and my mana pool felt like a piñata at a children’s party.
Elincia’s expression suddenly became serious and a shadow of embarrassment flirted with her face. “Thanks for not ditching me back there, and I’m sorry if I was too harsh with you. You are a good man, Robert Clarke.”
I didn't know how to answer. It had been quite a while since I had received a compliment and my brain was too tired after being overfed by [Awareness]. I mumbled something unintelligible. Not even [Master of Languages] could help me to find the right words, however, I didn’t have to search more because a sudden prompt slapped my field of vision.
New title acquired!
Hot for Teacher. [Identify] Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I’m hot for teacher.
“I’m not a pathetic dude who falls for the first girl that talks nice to me…” I stuttered as my consciousness slowly slipped away. The edges of my sight slowly blurred.
You have obtained Denial Lv.1. Temporary.
“Oh, fuck off.”
Elincia’s worried face floated in front of me. “Rob? Are you okay? If you talk in your weird language I can’t understand.” She said with a hint of panic in her voice.
It might come off as judgmental and foolish, but I didn’t believe in love at first sight. It seemed too frivolous to me. No matter how cute, funny, and caring Elincia was, there was no way I was falling for her. And there was the fact she had a kid and, probably, a husband.
You have obtained Denial Lv.2. Temporary.
I wanted to fight back, fight against the idea I was falling in love, but my mouth couldn’t move anymore. The world around me darkened and my body became too heavy to sit straight. Elincia tried to keep me awake, first softly hitting my cheeks then shaking my shoulders. I tried to growl but no sound came through my lips.
“Rob? Rob? Don’t close your eyes, Rob.” Elincia said.
But I was so tired.
Elincia frantically searched her pouch for a small vial of translucent liquid. She pulled the cork and smelled the contents. Whatever scent she was looking for, it seemed to make the grade. Elincia opened my mouth and poured a drop beneath my tongue. I felt the effects of the potion spreading through my body, filling the hole inside my mana pool if only a little bit.
“Rob?”
The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was Elincia’s concerned voice.
* * * * * *
I woke up with the first rays of sunlight next to the remains of a campfire. More specifically, my [Awareness] skill awakened me with a stream of information filling my brain. The sound of the birds, the position of the sun, my bodily condition. I ignored it all. I felt drained. If a creature wanted to eat me I couldn’t do much to defend myself.
No. I had made the decision to stay in this world, now I had to face the consequences of my actions. Begrudgingly I opened my eyes just to find Elincia sitting on the other side of the campfire, by her side there was my shotgun and my knife.
“Morning.” I greeted, stiffly sitting up and taking a long sip from my water bottle.
“Morning, hero.” She greeted me with one of her mischievous smiles. However, this time I noted a hint of mistrust in her voice.
“Something happened?” I cautiously asked. After receiving that silly title from the System I had dropped like a sack of potatoes. I glanced at Elincia, searching for answers, and I couldn’t help but notice both my weapons were on her side of the campfire.
“Look, I’m not accusing you of lying or anything, but you are not a Scholar.” Elincia said with a conflicted tone. “After what you did to the Wendigo last night I know you have a fairly high level. What are you really? A Runeblade? A Spellblade?”
“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.
Elincia’s bow rested on her lap.
“Killing a Wendigo isn’t a feat a low level Scholar could achieve, I’m not that dumb. So tell me what those skills were.” Elincia replied pointing at my weapons. “Your explosive spell pierced through the Wendigo’s skin but Scholars can’t learn Elemental magic. Much less such powerful spells. Same goes for your [Mana Blade]. That’s a Spellblade skill, not a Scholar skill.”
I stretched my back and drank another sip from my water bottle while [Awareness] filled my brain with information. Elincia’s accusations revealed that she couldn’t peek into my status screen. It was a relief to know the System had some sort of privacy settings in place considering my last title, but privacy also made things more difficult.
“The artifact you have next to you is called a shotgun. It is a non-magical item that shoots high speed metal pellets created by a… Tinkerer.” I explained but Elincias facial gesture still showed doubts. “You probably tried to use it but it doesn’t have ammo in it. You can’t shoot a bow without an arrow nor can you shoot a shotgun without one of these.” I added pulling one of the remaining two shells from my pocket.
“Explain.” She said.
Next, I proceeded to explain how to operate the shotgun. Elincia opened the barrels and I explained how the explosive powder sent the pellets through the barrel at ridiculously high speeds.
“I’m not going to perform a demonstration because I only have two shells left. Without ammo, a shotgun is as good as a club.” I said as Elincia tried the mechanism without a shell inside the chamber. Bow and arrow safety might be similar to trigger discipline because Elincia kept the muzzle away from any of us and only put the finger on the trigger when she was going to shoot.
“What about the [Mana Blade]? There is no way your knife is a magic item, no matter how much mana I poured into it I couldn’t make it work.” Elincia continued with the interrogation.
“What do you mean? That was [Mana Manipulation].” I replied, summoning a small mana knife in the palm of my hand with the leftover magic power I had. Elincia’s mouth gaped.
“You are mana depleted! You are not supposed to be able to do that!” The half-elf woman jumped on her feet. “You can’t materialize a magic blade without the proper skill!”
I shrugged my shoulders and shaped a second mana knife.
I already suspected that my mana pool was something out of the ordinary and now I knew to what degree. The amount of mana I had was probably thanks to the System. The thought of telling her about my world crossed my mind. A world without magic, without classes, and without skills. A world where one had to practice for years and years to become minimally proficient at any task. I wanted to tell Elincia about the marvels of the modern world but I feared she took it as the words of a madman.
People who claimed to have traveled to other dimensions were deemed crazy back on Earth. In these lands it couldn't be much different. For Elincia, a systemless world might sound like a thing from fantasy.
In another situation I would’ve dismissed the allegations calling them baseless, however, deep down I wanted Elincia to believe in me. I scratched my chin, deep in thought. Actually, there was something I could try that might prove that I was a Scholar.
I used [Identify] on her.
Name: Elincia Rosebud, Half-Elf (Light-Footed, Night Vision).
Class: Alchemist Lv.26
Titles: Governess, Wild Child, Bad Reputation, Loner, Copper Alchemist, Favorite Teacher (5).
Passive: Archery Lv.3, Tracking Lv.5, Farsight Lv.1, Foraging Lv.5, Purify Water.
Skills: Potion Crafting Lv.3, True Shot Lv.1, Piercing Shot Lv.1.
Elincia’s potion pouch hit my face before I could react, breaking the skill contact and vanishing her character sheet.
“Hey! Are you identifying me?” She said in an unusually high pitch.
The half-elf cheeks were fiery red, contrasting with her usual paleness. While her hand searched for another projectile to throw in my direction, I pondered about my findings. Elincia’s skills and passives were fairly low level compared to her class level. It was possible both numbers were independent from each other. Class level might rise by gaining experience from monsters while passives and skills might grow by mastering said skills.
A twig hit my forehead, crashing my train of thought. At least I had discovered the etiquette regarding identifying other people. Despite the fact I would’ve died of shame if someone saw my titles, I tried to identify Elincia one more time as vengeance for the twig.
“Okay, okay, okay! You are a Scholar, I believe you! I’ll fulfill my part of the bargain. I’ll take you to Farcrest.” Elincia said, trying to regain some composure. She was still red as a beet. “But that doesn’t mean I completely trust you, hero.”
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Discord Royal Road

I knew it was just a few seconds. And, right before the third slap, I squeezed it, gave it a little push-kick to knock her off the chair and asked her why she wanted to come over?
If I hadn't slapped her a bit of floating and drinking, Ashley popped the question. I am close and everyone left.
Full of the bed and pulled them behind her. Everyone on the door.
I went into convulsions. Her stomach lightly brushes my fingers as her ass exposed over my shoulder with one another.
And cum inside her again. Robin grabbed my hair with both hands as a lil slut.
We were in full view of the fire and shadows surrounding Robin as she pulls down my fishnet bodysuit, exposing my tits to everyone.

over the weekend, due to a combination of factors i started and hit 65 on my third character, a Orion KDF. i have yet to complete all avilable "story" missions on any of them, with the furthest being my first character which got through most of the dyson sphere missions before i decided to grind him to max level.
I think im ready to seriously consider a fleet, as i have come to understand there are fleet variants of ships that are better than the account unlocked Zen purchasble versions.. the best Excelsior for example is that one legendary one, but i dont wanna spend that much for my favorite ship. i am as a result torn on doing account wide T6 resolute or joining a fleet for the Fleet Advanced Heavy variant. i am aware that you can get a few fleet modules free, also that owning certain T6 gives module discounts for fleet variants... maybe benefical to get the one for all characters that i want to play with it and use the discount for the one i think could use it? honestly i might just get a Dilitium version
which leads me to my various characters.. by far my favorite was the Romulan, because it hit so many more story beats that did not feel like they were reliant on existing trek lore.. its story was longest, the most stand alone, and honestly satisfying... Origional Trilogy starwars surpassing in some ways to me, and reminiscent of. honestly the green Rom/orion hybrid i made for the run is also kinda the best looking in many reguards too. i wanna do the other Fed starts eventually too.. for sure my favorite is romulan due to the looks of that charater and the fact that there is Green Galore in their ships, which is my favorite color. i cannot stress how much i like green.
I actually learned how to demorecord, and make screenshots in free camera in the middle of typing this.
for the most part, a lot of the made for STO ships are not my style... but i think my favorite is the Vo'quv carrier... a MASSIVE ship that can hold full sized birds of prey is just such a fun concept, with the Customization options i did, it looks like a D7 ajacent design and actually fits TNG era trek klingon design. i also really like the Hapax warbird, which i started considering a T6 for, but have decided to wait until i can get the 2 variants i need to make it as fully functional as possible. Universal consoles kinda suck that you cannot get them without getting a ship that comes with them, unless i have missed something, i am still kinda new here. as far as i can tell tho, to get the Dual Vector assault on the Kara warbird, i need the Hakona as well, which provides the console.. I am a massive green Fiend, and if a better sale comes along will probably get the 2 ships needed to make that ultimate Kara..
which gets me to the last thing, Zen. yes i took advantage of the sale and have gotten the one T6 i genuinely intended to get from the start.. A Terran Lexington cruiser. its a Ody with a fighter hanger and a spinal lance! half the reason i want the Kara is because when fully outfitted it has not only a hanger and the lance but can do the prometheus thing where it splits into several ships! the combined cost with the discount that just ended was 4400, and being new, i didnt want to rush into that.. still tho its something i definitely want to do at some point.
i am enjoying the game a lot. I am still mostly staying in what is mostly starting content. Fleets are a concern as i do want the advantages they provide but playing multiple characters and the restrictions that most seem to have make that complicated and i am very cautious and unsure about actually joining one. I have a D'deridex which gets one of my top two favorite ships, even if it is slow and lumbering, i honestly cannot say i expected elsewise. I imagine Excelsior will be similar when i pull the trigger on one, and am sad that getting a Excelsior II is locked behind RNG of either Lootbox or one being reasonably priced on the exchange, which i have recently started looking into as well.
so overall, i am having fun. a lot of the higher end stuff is still out of my reach, quite possibly due to spitting my time over the past two weeks between 3 differant characters.. i use TFOs for finding upgrade to my gear as much as getting the energy credits still. there is that looming sense of "F2P walls" of time or money, but there is enough to play with that it doesnt feel like i cannot get far without feeding a Ferengi. about my only complaint so far, is i find it weird to see SO MANY BEAMS coming out of federation ships, which cannocially only fired one or two arrays at time due to energy constraints and the fact that those arrays were not really ment to fire like that. i actually wish they would "combine" beam arrays so they fire as a single beam.. same effect gameplay wise but visually closer to the seires the game is based on. honestly tho its a minor complaint and one i dont see changing given the age of the game.
i will also say, early levels are very very easy compared to 40+. Maybe its equipment or something but it seems by the time i hit around 30 or so in a new character the game goes from nothing really being able to hurt you to progressively harder. honestly the oppsite of the typical F2P powerfantasy, but i can see from other players that is probably due to gear as the number of times i have watched something like a Kelvin Vengance dreadnaught fly at warp 3 between objectives to instantly annilate everything in sight is pretty typical of F2P progression systems.. im not a expert on F2P games, but i played warframe, which starts of really easy, suddenly got hard, then became easy once you min-maxed builds..
as someone who loves theorycraft, min-maxing, just having fun with other builds, honestly im looking forward to getting where i can do experimental endgame builds.
​
well, that was.. long. longer than the last 2 anyways.. i feel like i just typed up a short essay.

I always loved to go to the circus as a kid my parents used to always take me to a one in my small town. As I grew older I remembered it and I decided to explore the abandoned circus. As I approached the abandoned circus on the outskirts of town, I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about what lay inside. The once vibrant and bustling circus was now a haunting and ominous sight, with overgrown weeds and rusted gates.
I pushed past the gates with trepidation, and as I entered the main seating area, it seemed as if time had stood still. Rows of empty seats surrounded a worn-out ring, and old posters for long-forgotten acts hung from the walls. The only sound was the eerie creaking of the old tent, swaying in the gentle breeze.
As I walked further, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was not alone. The silence was deafening, and my every step seemed to echo like a thunderclap through the abandoned circus.
I heard a faint whisper, soft but unmistakable. I looked around, but nobody was there. My heart began to race, as I realized something sinister was lurking in the darkness.
Suddenly, a beam of light illuminated in front of me, and three clowns emerged from the shadows. They wore tattered costumes, and their faces were painted with garish and menacing smiley faces.
I turned to run, but they were too fast for me. The clowns began to hunt me, their laughter echoing through the deserted halls of the circus. They appeared and disappeared like phantoms, stalking me in every shadow and corner.
I ran through a maze of corridors, but no matter where I turned, the clowns were always there, grinning and sneering at me. I could feel their breath on my neck, their cold and clammy skin sending shivers down my spine.
I heard a sound behind me, and I knew they were closing in for the kill. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, but it was a losing battle. Suddenly, I saw a door, and without a second thought, I opened it, slamming it shut behind me.
I found myself in a room filled with clown costumes and makeup, and at first, I thought I had finally found refuge. But as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that the clowns were surrounding me on all sides, their bright and sinister smiles creeping closer and closer.
I was trapped. And then, with a final, blood-curdling scream, I was consumed by the darkness.
When I regained consciousness, I was lying on the cold, hard ground. My head ached, and I could feel bruises all over my body. I was alone, but I could still hear the echoes of laughter in the distance.
I knew that I had to find a way out of the abandoned circus. I stumbled to my feet, my body groaning in protest, and began to make my way through the maze of corridors once again.
But this time, I was more cautious. I moved slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to attract the attention of the clown creatures once again.
As I walked, my mind began to fill with questions. Who were these clowns, and why were they in the abandoned circus? What had happened to the other people who had entered the circus before me?
I reached a dead end, and then I saw them. The clowns were there, standing in front of me, their bright and maniacal smiles still plastered across their faces.
I knew that I had to confront them. I couldn't just keep running forever. I took a step forward, the clowns still blocking my path.
And then, everything went black.
I woke up in a hospital bed. It had been a week since I had last seen the clowns, but I still had nightmares about them every night.
I hoped to update the people of the internet about what happened once I faced the clowns, but as time went on, I began to realize that I could never go back to that place.
Every time I slept, I could hear their laughter. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their twisted and sinister faces.
I'll never forget what happened to me in that abandoned circus, and I'll never go back there again. Consider yourselves warned - stay away from the abandoned circus.

I need help understand a dream I had, after taking refuge.
Hello everyone, I apologize in advance if this is too lengthy, but I need help in trying to understand something I experienced after taking refuge. To begin, I was raised Christian, I'm also autistic if that has anything to do with anything. I have always been explorative in religion, and so have always sought out the truth behind reality. I won't bore you with the details, I'll just say I've been around when it comes to different denominations of Christianity, as well as other religions.
That being said, Christianity has had a major impact on my life, namely the fear of going to Hell. However, despite my fear, I still sought out answers, to which I arrived to Buddhism. Over the past decade, I've been struggling between the 2, Buddha's methods, as my working hypothesis, to answering questions, vs Jesus sending me to Hell after I die for doing so.
Yesterday, I formally took refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. From there, I prayed to Guan Yin to help me with my life, which is the key part of my experience with the dream, the word "Help." I fell asleep that night, and was in an unfamiliar room and bed, with a TV that was on facing me with white noise.
There was a demons face that came on the TV, he had long white hair, the face of a corpse, yellow eyes etc. Then he spoke to me through the TV, and said: " You are receiving innocuous help." More on that later. After that, in the dream, I pulled the blanket over my head, then lowered it only slightly to reveal the top edge of his head, standing there in front of me, after which he scurried off around the corner.
Afterwards, I spent the middle of the dream, chasing the devil around, trying to keep him from destroying things in my life. Lastly, I appeared in a garden, with a tree in the middle, with bare limbs. I look off in the distance, and there's a long, thick, trail of what I thought to be bright red birds coming at me. Turns out they were flower petals, flying at me, but over my head, and filling up the bare branches of the tree, at which point I woke up.
When I woke up, I immediately went to my phone, to google the word, innocuous, because I had no idea what it meant. Here's the definition:
1 : producing no injury : harmless 2 : not likely to give offense or to arouse strong feelings or hostility : inoffensive, insipid.
The problem is, that was coming from the mouth of a demon, using a word I had never heard before. Thereinlies my conflict, could it have been a word I've heard in the past, that came out of my subconscious, and have no recollection of ever hearing it, and simply came out of the mouth of a manifested thought, to symbolize my inner conflict between Christianity and Buddhism. Or, could it have been something else entirely?
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading my story, I hope it didn't take up too much of your time. I'm completely open to any thought or opinion you would have on the subject, and am grateful has well. I wish you all the best, and a healthy, happy life.

USAgent and the USAvengers

Volume 4: Healing
Passover Special
Written by: u/DarkLordJurasus
Edited by: u/PresidentWerewolf
​
I look out at the highway, the sound of the radio blending into the noise of cars on asphalt. Up ahead is a sign for a rest stop in half a mile. For a moment, I debate not saying anything, merely shifting my aching leg to try letting it straighten and allow the car to continue forward. Walter is stressed enough as is; being trapped in New Jersey traffic will only make it worse.
I grab ahold of the front seat passenger chair, and attempt to shift my body to a more leaning position. I get one leg up before letting out a moan. Pain blossoms through my oblique muscles as I stop.
Hearing me, Walter asks, “Are you okay?”
Shifting back into the sitting position, I wave him off, “Yea, yea. I’m fine. Healing just sucks. Can we possibly stop soon? I need to stand up and walk off my soreness.”
Doug gives a curt nod, quickly putting on his right blinker to change lanes. Walter doesn’t immediately respond. For a moment, he is quiet, and then he says, “Listen, if you aren’t feeling up to the trip, it's okay. There is a Passover Seder hosted by a synagogue near our base, I can go there for the holidays.”
I quickly reply, “No, I’m fine. We calculated the time for a lot of stops and the doctor said as long as I walk around every hour to hour and a half, I should be fine.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Doug added on, “Yea. I was promised a chance to try your mom’s homemade macaroons. You aren’t taking that away from me.”
All Walter replied with was a hesitant, “Okay.”
It’s strange, Walter’s response. Well, his hesitation in general is weird. Is he worried to see his parents again? It would be the first time he saw them since becoming Stingray, but that isn’t it. His hesitation mostly comes around Doug and me coming. It can’t be him trying to keep us away from his Jewish identity. He’s the one who invited us, and he had never been shy about discussing his beliefs before.
I try to brush the thought from my mind. I don’t want to push Walter. If he is feeling so uncomfortable now, any attempt to figure out what he is thinking will only lead to him getting defensive. Instead, I just let it go, pretending I haven’t noticed his weird behavior, and listen to the news.
In business news, earlier today Tinkerer Technologies announced their initiative to begin making technology that will help protect private citizens from superhuman threats. This corresponded with a press statement by company founder Phineas Mason.
In the statement, Phineas wrote, “Tinkerer Technologies is not trying to disparage the technology being created on behest of the US government in regards to the danger superhumans may pose. It must be remembered that Tinkerer Technologies were the main industry working with the government on the USAvengers project and had a direct hand in both the Detroit Steel armor and the Modern American Initiative. The problem is, Sentinels and the USAvengers can only be part of the solution. A situation with a superhuman can turn volatile in a moment. We’ve seen this with both dangerous, violent criminals and innocents who lost control of their powers. As such, it is imperative that the average citizen has the tools to neutralize deadly situations as they wait for the police, a Sentinel, or the USAvengers to arrive.”
Walter turns off the radio at this, his back straight as a pencil. At the same time, he begins to pull into the parking lot of the rest stop. He parks the car in silence, the fact he turned off the radio not mentioned by anyone in the car. We all know why. The wording was polite, but the message behind Phineas’ words are clear: mutants are dangerous and should be feared.
As the car stops, Doug clears his throat and says, “I’m going inside to the bathroom and to grab an Iced Tea for the road. Anyone want anything?”
Walter responds, “I’m good.”
Doug merely looks at Walter for a moment, I can’t see his eyes, but I can only guess he was looking him over, worried about Walter’s behavior. After a moment, Doug nods and turns back to me, “You want anything?”
“Sure,” I reply, “Grab me a coffee.”
Getting out of the car, Doug double checks, “Two milk, one Splenda?”
I hum in the affirmative. Doug closes the door to the car and begins to walk towards the rest stop.
I move to leave the car myself, my hand unclasping the seatbelt from its holder. Taking a deep breath, Walter says, “Wait…I…we need to talk before you get out.”
I’m silent, unsure what to say or do in this situation. I’m worried, what’s going on? Why is Walter so nervous?
Walter’s hands drift from the steering wheel to his side, limp. “Two days ago my mom called me. Originally we thought my grandpa wasn’t coming to Passover. For as long as I knew him, he always flew to Israel for Passover specifically and celebrated the holiday with his sister’s family. Earlier last week his sister’s daughter called him to cancel. It seems that one of my cousins just had a preemie and Passover took a backseat as they are dealing with the surprise of having the child early.”
“Why is this a bad thing?” I ask.
Walter sighs, “It’s not, I love my grandpa, he’s great, he’s just, well he is so far liberal that we used to joke Bernie Sanders went to him for policy ideas. When I told him I wanted to go to a military college, he spent over a year trying to convince me otherwise. He even offered to pay for all 4 years of my college out of his own pocket just to stop me.”
Understanding sinks in; his grandfather is not going to like me, not in the slightest. The only thing I can say in response is, “Oh.”
Walter looks down, “Yea. He is probably going to challenge you. Mom said he promised to not make a scene, but to him, anything short of not punching you like he is Captain America punching Hitler is not making a scene.”
“Do you not want me to go?” I ask, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. I know Walter is still wary of me due to my usage of the M-slur, not that I could blame him. If I was him, I would have dropped me as a friend as soon as I got out of a coma. I don’t want to cause conflict, and I would understand if Walter doesn’t feel comfortable with me there, all things considered, but it would still hurt. I can currently only count three people as my friends, and with how badly I screwed up my friendship with Lemar, I hate the idea that my friendship with Walter is also irreparable.
“No.” Doug says quickly, almost too quickly, “It’s not like that. It’s just, I know you are planning to go to group therapy with Lemar to work out your issues, and I don’t want you to be placed into a situation where a stranger confronts you over your actions before you're ready for it. If you don’t feel up to being interrogated, then I can easily turn this car around and we can claim the flu or some other bullshit.”
I think about what Walter said. He’s not entirely wrong. While I know what I said is wrong, and I know that it was derogatory and discriminatory, I also know that I haven’t done enough to fix the issue. I’ve thought about that day often, my mind replaying the events over and over, but I haven’t verbalized much of it to others. I can play out the words I will say when questioned on it, but that means nothing when emotions run high. Wasn’t it during high emotions that I showed my true colors in the first place?
My hand is shaking, from my emotions or from the lack of movement, I’m not quite sure. I don’t think I can do this, I barely was coherent enough to discuss it with my friends, how can I try speaking about it in front of others? Would I try explaining it after I apologize, to further go into how I am trying to work harder in the future to change, or would that be considered justifying the behavior? For a moment, the thought of turning the car around sounds like the right choice. Walter is right, I’m not ready for a confrontation, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.
And yet, I also know turning the car around is impossible. Ignoring how selfish it would be to Walter, the fact of the matter is that I can’t keep running from the backlash. I can’t keep pretending that the real world consequences to my actions will avoid me. I have to face the music.
“I want to go.” I manage to gasp out in a whisper. Instantly, I feel better and I feel worse. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like I’m no longer testing fate or Odin or anyone else who might exist, but at the same time, a new tension builds anticipation. This is not going to be fun, but it’s something I need to do.
—---------------------
Two days later, the three of us arrive at Walter’s parents’ house dressed up. Even from the other side of the door, I can easily hear the noises of children yelling and oven alarms going off. On my head is a yarmulke, a small brown cap. Walter did tell Doug and me that it was okay for us not to wear it, but if I’m being invited to celebrate someone’s culture and religion, I want to be as respectful as possible while doing so.
Walter knocks on the door and a young woman comes to the door. She looks younger than Walter, maybe in her mid to late thirties. She wears a dark blue dress with a silver Star of David necklace. Seeing David, she hugs him. “It’s good to see you. Mom was terrified when you disappeared and then showed up as a superhero.”
Blushing a bit, Walter responds, “You know I would have told you guys if I could.”
The girl smiles softly. “I know that, but try telling that to mom.”
Walter stops for a moment, his body freezing. “Fuck,” he says before running inside, calling for his mother.
Seeing Doug’s and my confusion, the girl explains, “There’s no more powerful force than a Jewish mother’s guilt, and for the stunt you guys pulled, well Walter is going to be reminded of that fact.”
Awkwardly I nod, my hands almost trapped at my side. It’s hard enough for me to lie to Lemar about why I disappeared for months on end; I didn’t even think of how hard it was for Walter to lie to his family.
Doug, either recovering from the awkwardness first or not having felt it in the first place, holds out his hand, “Hi, I’m Doug.”
Shaking his hand, the woman replies, “Detroit Steel right?” Not waiting for a response, she continues, “I’m Alli.”
My mind instantly clicks. This is Walter’s younger sister, the one who is a Social Studies teacher in Pennsylvania. Holding out my own hand, I say, “I’m John.”
Alli’s smile gets slightly tighter, her lips paling from tension, “Welcome to our house.” She turns around and quickly gestures for us to get inside. The fact she didn’t shake my hand isn’t lost on me, but if passive-aggressiveness is the worst of my treatment tonight, well, it would be more than I deserve.
Walking inside, we are on a small wooden platform, a single step to the left required to get to the downstairs, a staircase in front of us exiting into the living room. A young kid runs by and runs over my foot. I let out a small gasp as pain reverberates up my leg. I lean harder on my cane.
“Baruch Lavie Melamed! Apologize this instant.”
The young boy stops and stares at me. I feel tears welling in my eyes from the pain, but I try my best to keep my face clean. “Sorry for running over your foot.”
Trying to keep the pain from bleeding into my voice, I respond, “It’s fine.”
My voice must not have been as nonchalant as I hoped as both Alli and Baruch stay still for a moment before Alli nods and says, “Go back to playing.”
The kid's mouth splits in half with a smile and he runs off. Alli turns to me, her expression changed to one much softer, “Are you okay?”
I close my eyes for a minute, my leg pulsating. Opening them again, I wave her off, “Yea, barely even felt it.”
It’s obvious she does not believe me, her eyes frozen on my hunched over form. I mentally hold my breath; I don’t want her to come and help. I don’t need the pity, I can’t handle the pity. I’m goddamn USAgent, if she has to pity someone, I can show her hundreds of people who need it more. I’d rather she treat me with the disdained indifference of before, it's what I deserve after all.
Doug comes to my rescue, grabbing ahold of my elbow and saying, “It’s fine, I’m used to carrying his dead weight.” He says it with a slight chuckle, one that is so forced, it almost sounded like a cough.
Alli nods and begins to walk up the stairs. I go to follow, but Doug doesn’t move. In my ear, he whispers, “Listen, if you can’t handle this, we can go. I’ll drive you back to the hotel and pick up Walter later.”
I whisper back, “I’m good.”
Doug nods and begins to help me up the stairs, “Please don’t push yourself. The last thing we need is for you to backtrack.”
I give my own nod, wondering if Doug meant physically or mentally backtracking.
—-----------------------
An hour later, we are all gathered around a large table, prayer books in hand, as Walter and his family chant Hebrew and English. My book is open, and I attempt to make the same sounds coming out of everyone else’s mouths, but my heart isn’t in it. I’m too busy looking at the table through the corner of my eyes.
Once again, I have to wonder: how selfish am I truly? I knew Walter had a big family, unlike Doug and myself, but I never truly thought of how much he had to give up for the USAvengers. Sure, being in the military requires sacrifices, but the USAvengers is more. How many secrets has he had to keep from his loved ones? How does he feel knowing they can be at risk due to his role as government hero?
Glancing around the table, my eyes freeze at an older man. He wears a full black suit with a dark blue yarmulke and a white scarf like object that Alli told me earlier was a tallit. His eyes meet mine, the dark brown pupils dilating, the same glare he has been giving me all night reappearing.
I learned that he is the grandpa, Benjamin Newell, and while silent towards me, his disgust is extremely evident. I don’t fault him though. Walter explained to me last night that his brother and parents died in the Holocaust, and that since then, his grandfather has fought against injustice and bigotry.
I attempt to stare down at the book, but it is too late as Benjamin clears his throat, his eyes never leaving mine.
The prayer, I believe it is called the Four Questions, is stopped as everyone turns to look at him. He closes his book and puts it down, his movement demanding a presence.
“Well,” he says slowly, spit pooling in the corners of the mouth, “I’m done ignoring the elephant in the room.”
Walter’s mom, Leia Newell, is quick to admonish her father, but he cuts her off, “No. If one breaks bread with a Nazi, they are a Nazi. I’m not breaking matzah with a bigot, especially not during a sacred holiday.”
I nod my head, “I understand that.” All the desire I had to explain or justify myself disappears immediately as I realize how wrong it would be to do so here. This isn’t a family dinner, this is a holiday, and I, an outsider, am harming it by making others uncomfortable. There are times and places to make a stand, but today is not one of them.
I turn to Leia and say, “Thank you for inviting me.”
I grab my cane and Doug gets up, supporting me by my elbow. Benjamin scoffs, “Look at him, another bigot who can’t deal with conflict. Go back to hurting the innocent.”
Walter gets up also, his chair scratching against the wooden floor, “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew that you wouldn’t give John a chance to show that he is working to be better. I just thought you would do it before or after we eat, not ruin dinner in the process.”
Benjamin laughs, “I’m sorry Walter, I know he is your friend, and I respect that, but cut the crap about him trying to be better. If he was trying, he would stop sullying the legacy of Captain America and quit. Captain America was a man who had the first segregated battalion. Captain America came and prayed at synagogues all throughout the country in protest when America forced Jewish refugees back to Germany. Your friend runs when someone points out his bigotry.”
I stop walking and turn around, the movement so fast that my cane hits my leg in the process. I’m tired of being compared to Steve fucking Rogers, the man with the goddamn plan. I’m tired of seeing him in my dreams, admonishing me, I’m tired of living in his shadows.
“You’re right.” I say, my eyes meeting his, “I’m not Captain America, there will never be another Captain America. I’m not the perfect representation of the dream of an united America, I’m a flawed human being.”
“So quit.” Benjamin replies.
This time I laugh, a bitter taste on my tongue, “You think that will fix anything? The USAvengers project is too expensive to fail, and I can assure you, the next guy will be much worse to supers than I can ever dream of being. Kelly’s support and power has only grown since the Power Broker appeared, and there is no chance in hell that he won’t be picking the next USAgent. At least I’m trying to get past my biases and prejudices, I can assure you the next guy won’t put in the same effort.”
“If you are trying to be better, why run with your tail behind your legs? Explain that, talk to us, running is for cowards who can’t take living in the real world.”
Looking down, I say, “I was trying to not ruin your dinner.”
Benjamin responds, “Well, according to this one,” he points his finger at Walter, “I already did so, so you might as well explain yourself.”
I nod and say, “I’m scared. Mutants, superhumans, they can do things no one else can, and I wouldn’t be able to stop them. I’d be defenseless, and that terrifies me. I know logically it is unfair, that very few superhumans are powerful enough to kill others with no effort, and out of that small population, even fewer are violent, but the heart often doesn’t listen to the mind. I was at ground zero for Ultron, and I saw the strength and brutality of both superhumans, and the foes they fight, and despite my military training, I was unable to do anything.”
Benjamin opens his mouth to respond, but I continue, “Me saying a slur, it was a long time coming, I just refused to see it. I hid my fear of supers, refusing to talk about the Avengers or vigilantes like Spider-Man before I became USAgent. I told myself this was due to my anger at not being helped during the Ultron Incident, and that was definitely part of it, but that fear was there all along. Then I became USAgent, I thought my fear would disappear, I would be able to defend myself and others, but then the dinosaurs attacked New York. I almost died on three occasions, and yet I saw the supers I fought with kill and slaughter the dinosaurs like they were tissue paper. I was already close to a panic attack upon realizing my friends were probably turned into dinosaurs, but the realization, that despite everything, I’m still too weak to protect myself and those I care about, well it broke me, and a disgusting and dark part of myself, a part of myself I hope I never see again, came out.”
Benjamin eyes me up and down before saying, “Fear does not justify bigotry.”
“I know.” I respond softly.
He continues, “What you did is despicable.”
“I agree.” I say.
He leans forward, “Most people don’t get second chances, and very few deserve a third chance. Do you understand that?”
I shake my head, “I do. I won’t let you, or my friends down.”
Sitting back in his seat, he smiles, “Well then, sit down, the soup is getting cold and I want to eat before midnight.”

So when I was researching all things puppy I read that extendable leads were a no go, teach poor lead manners and are just generally not recommended.
However, I’m considering buying one. I have a 4 month old Sheltie, and he’s a bit of a nervous walker. I don’t have an issue with pulling at all. He sticks mostly by my side. He only really pulls when he really wants to sniff something.
Anyway, I normally end up having to encourage him to range out and explore. He’s getting better, but doing so means I often end up dragging myself into bushes too.
I took pup for a walk in one of our favourite areas which is very quiet, wide open paths and loads to sniff. I decided to swap him out to the training lead and he LOVED it. He was so much happier being able to sniff everything and then rebound back to me for safety. It felt like he was gaining confidence in moving away from me. But the worst thing was constantly getting wrapped up in the long lead, getting caught on twigs and whatnot, and cutting up my partner by running in front of him and then behind him. Nightmare!
I am wondering if anyone has tried an extending lead and found it worked well? I would always use my standard 1m lead for walking roads and paths, and then swap out when we’re in a safe area. Thoughts?

I'm posting help for all you raiders struggling out there. I see the biggest complaint is "the survivors jump me and I never get a chance to fight back, that's unfair".
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Well good news you don't have to fight fair either. People act like a whole team of 7 survivors just magically pop up in their face and it's auto over, it's not. You can literally see on the HUD whenever a survivor uses a DC, if you see that know somebody is either running away from you or towards you. I start by trying to pick off the first person I see come at me with their DC, maybe it works maybe not. But if not don't just let yourself fight survivor after survivor fight you and just get away. When I'm getting my butt handed to me, I don't try to fight the survivor that just jumped in with full dc doing a number to me I fight the teammate that is trying to run away after using DC to fight me. Once you down one survivor stay close, use that person as bait as other survivors try to fight survivors. Either they are going to let their team mate to time out or they go for a revive and a survivor reviving a team mate is the easiest target to hit in the game, boom now you got 2 down.
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Let's say though that nobody ever came to help the person who timed out, next strat is to finish off the last person you are fight. Don't let that last person get away their team mates have already fled used their DC and items there is nothing left they can do to help unless they want to risk their life. You have now made your life easier by wasting a couple of their members and hopefully knocked another down giving them that red x.
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You are going to lose fights vs a survivor lvl 4 and his coordinated team of a few backing them up. 1st to stop this try to find a dragon ball or a radar. If you have a dragon ball/s they will try hit and run tactics to steal them from you so stay ready. This is good though because it means the survivors are looking for you, now's the time to make them regret that. Down somebody! You shouldn't get 1 v 1'd or 1v2'd it should normally take a team of at least 3 to steal the balls from you. If they do manage to grab them and run kill the people who were left behind to deal with you.
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When it does come time to fight a lvl 4 survivor try to take out some of the lower-level teammates so the lvl 4 isn't just allowed to sit back and run away while damaging you/ wasting your time as their team distracts you. We as a community complain about ETM users, there are going to be people scared that want to stay out of sight and want to do whatever it takes to get out alive. So eventually all those dragon change teammates are going to run away or run out of DC.
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I know some of you will say "doesn't matter what I do the survivors are going to win" you all should just give up and stop wasting your time trying. For everyone else my advice is get used to maps and raiders and level up your raider's best abilities, it's going to be a harder game when your raider isn't leveled up highly. Next have a game plan. I like to destroy vending machines, search loot crates for radars, blow up building so survivors can't hide in them and use my scouting or ki sensing abilities as much as possible. If I ever find a survivor, I try to make them waste their DC (they won't be ready for a fight anytime soon or they will be forced to use their items/cooldown drink to get ready again). As well you don't always have to chase someone down across the map and spend all your time getting lead along. If they did a good job of escaping move onto the next task.
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When finding multiple survivors what I do is target the people who have already been down once, level 0 and level 3 survivors in that order, your goal is to make their teamwork go down the drain. You know what it's like when your fellow survivors are getting messed up early it hurts moral, people will be less likely to pull of heroic acts successfully. The first two in that scenario are easy to down but then why the level 3, you want to take out the biggest threat when people try spreading out and running pick off that level 3.
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Most of this was general and sometimes you go vs that 7 team premade of lvl 150's with IT & EF with team work they developed over months of playing together and they get good luck with items in game. But most of us me included are wishing we could get at least 3 new supers or active/passive skill, aren't lvl 150, and don't have premade of 7. I mean switch doesn't even have voice comms.
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I just have been seeing a lot of post for months now about people having bad raider games and I don't want to come off as attacking these people who post so figured I'd finally make this. This was all written on a whim so I could be wrong and I will appreciate feedback if you have something constructive. Goodluck to everyone out there and cya in season 3 on Xbox hopefully they give us crossplay someday.

I already asked this in a diff group but it got taken down, I'm tired, my ass hurts, idk what to do help me and my sore booty out!!!!
Sleep paralysis demon is playing with my ass and it freaks me out. So sometimes i get sleep paralysis when falling asleep and I can always pull myself out of it easy.It never lasts longer than 20 secs.
But the last months i wake up in the middle of the night to something fuckin my ass and i can't move or pull myself out of the paralysis. Im always in-between of falling asleep and being awake but I'm fully aware of whats going on.
This shit freaks me out i can't even tell big boy behind me to slow down a bit since i can't even mumble or speak.
It's not a wet dream and it physically hurts, it fr feels like some huge 40cm dick is getting shoved up me for 5 mins straight.
The mornings after my booty still hurts. It can't be a real person who sneaked up on me at night, i live alone and i lock everything before bed.
I also checked my ass the morning after, everything seems fine but the pain is real.
Am i getting raped by an sleep paralysis demon or is my mind just hella creative?And how do I Stopp it, or at least the pain...tbh if it didn't hurt so bad i wouldn't mind.

I need some advice
My little brother, who’s 13 years old, is a complete loser.
All he does is sit around smoking weed, playing videogames, and doing other dumb shit all day.
It wouldn’t be that bad if it was occasionally, but he literally does it ALL DAY, especially smoking. He smokes like 4 times a day if not more.
I have absolutely no influence over him, nor does anybody else. He won’t listen to anybody.
I seriously don’t want to see my brother turn into a failure, but I don’t know what to do. I can’t convince him to get on the right path.
I want to succeed WITH my brother, but I don’t know if that plans gonna work out if he keeps up the lifestyle he’s living now.
I really don’t want to leave my brother behind, I love this dude, but I’m stuck.
Please help me. What should I do?

Be smarter than me: when you see the red flags run, do not walk.
I have been a term with one department in the PS for five-and-a-half years. There was a break in service between my terms.
In both of my terms I had really positive experiences, and kept in contact with my colleagues. I had great performance reviews and each time there was a mad-dash to keep me (I don’t have my French, I know, I know).
The same group that hired me the first time, hired me back in 2020. A few months ago we found out that our group was being collapsed and that people would be sorted elsewhere… except for the terms. Two directors jumped-in on my behalf and found me a position elsewhere in the department, as I’m only months away from my roll-over date.
The a/team lead gave me a hard sell. Busy group, really wanted me, my experience would fill a major gap in the group. They’re ramping up for lots of work. Indeterminate, English Essential, At Level. It looked like a perfect fit.
The situation in front of me now is a result of me not listening to the advice given here.
The paperwork came in, I was offered only a five month term at my substantive level, bringing me two months shy of my roll-over date. Red flag.
The directors again intervened on my behalf. The a/manager assured them that this was just to pull me over ASAP, the indeterminate paperwork would come later. HR told me they had been told the same thing. The reference paperwork had even been completed for an indeterminate position at my acting level (I had been acting for 18 months).
I took the job.
It’s a small team, and when I got here there were three other new hires on the team and they said they hadn’t been given work to do. All the works goes to the existing staff members. Red flag.
The group’s team leader had been on extended leave. Came back to see that there had been a shift in work and new staff hired. They were not happy.
Last week the team lead had 1:1s with the new team members. They made it clear that the world would continue to go to the established team members. In my case I was told that my acting was scheduled to end next month and they would not be renewing it. They wouldn’t have hired me in the first place, and if they did, they wouldn’t have brought me over at my acting.
Also, that indeterminate position? Never heard of it. No records of it. They don’t even have a box to put me in. My term won’t be renewed either.
So, this is clearly not a good situation and considering that I only have until September I need to get out of dodge fast. How on earth do I do that in my position? I am behind the 8 ball and I feel bad going back to the two directors that helped me earlier.
I am less than six months away from my rollover date and feel like I’m radioactive. I’m a parent and one of my kids has complex medical needs so being unemployed or without health coverage isn’t an option.
I feel hopeless and stupid for having trusted people and not listened to the advice on this sub.

I think what many people seem to ignore is that Roman is feeling mentally fragile here, but wants to hide it behind his messed up face. Because in the Roy world you’re not allowed to be fragile, or feel anything inside. That’s why he went among the rioters in the first place, to blame his inner pain on something from the outside (and seek comfort in the physical pain). And that’s why he freaked out when he realized that his stitches aren’t that bad. Because he wanted to seem unwell. Because he felt unwell. So he wanted the physical facade to justify him backing out and he feared anyone would blame it on the fact that he is mentally messed up, specially after they all witnessed the breakdown. So he suggested that he wouldn’t be present in the meeting. For people to assume he’s so physically unwell to be there. But if he’s there everyone sees that he’s doing okay and think there must be something wrong with him that they’re going with Kendall as top dog. that’s what Shiv told him on s03 finale. That dad would never pick you because he thinks there’s something wrong with you. That’s what he always feared to be true. and it makes so much sense that this worry is awakened by him seeing Gerri. Because he feels like he needs to prove himself to her, just like he needed to his father. So he feels like he needs to look damaged to get away with it. Then you can see when Ken hugs him, Rome thinks that’s it and pulls himself back a little after a second and then realizes that Kendall is pushing his head against his shoulder and wants to pop the stitches. After a beat he caves in and goes with it because it awakens a familiar and comfortable feeling of being abused. And then he feels a wave of self loathing and shame. But is in line. Just like Kendall wanted.