Eye doctor accept medicaid

I have migraines often and always on the left side. They’re not debilitating but they just stay with my for long. My doctor thinks it stems from my neck (I did a scan a couple of years ago) but one of my main symptoms is pain/pressure behind my left eye - enough that it feels like my eye is heavier(?) and my eyelid has more folds on it, although I’m not sure if the latter is directly a cause of migraines or just me smushing my face in a pillow.
Anyone else suffer from eye pain with their migraines?
And does it cause you recall issues? I find I’ll have a hard time recalling a name where it’ll take me 2-5 seconds when I’m usually pretty quick.

Inspiration can be a fickle thing. The muses may guide our hearts towards a particular passion, but they don’t always stick around to see us through it. As a child, Kousei Arima felt a natural attraction to the piano. He could play music by ear, was a gifted mimic, and had boat loads of potential to one day dominate the instrument. With the help and encouragement of a family friend, Kousei’s mom set him on his desired path, but life as a pianist was harder than he thought. Rather than playing for fun and expressing himself through music, she wanted him to be able to make a living through his music, so she went as hard on her little pianist as possible, going as far as to beat and abuse him if he underperformed or tried to play a piece in his own way. By the time the terminal illness she’d hid from him took it’s toll on her, his passion was gone, replaced with the cold, robotic delivery of one who could deliver a piece perfectly, but found no more joy in doing so. He lost his mother, along with his ability to hear the notes he was playing.
Two years later and about three feet taller(I’ll GET to that), Kousei still tinkers around with the piano, but hasn’t played it seriously, to the chagrin of all who enjoyed his work, or just hate to see him so incomplete. It’s at this point, like all down-trodden men who’ve lost their luster for life, that along comes that one girl to bring color back into his world. Her name is Kaori Miyazono, and she’s a violinist who cares nothing for rules or convention, finding childish but somehow wise joy in every aspect of life, and with this one chance meeting, Kousei finds a new muse… A capricious, cheerful beauty whose revisionist musical performances instantly connect with the crowds she plays for, and whom seems singularly obsessed with performing alongside Kousei, and helping him to relaunch the career that he’d so recently abandoned. But her dedication to helping him to overcome his tragedy hides a secret tragedy of her own, and one simple lie she told back in April will live on to define their relationship as they change each others lives through mutual inspiration.
I haven’t seen everything that’s been produced by A-1 pictures, but I honestly can’t remember seeing anything they’ve done that looked outright bad. Sure, Sword Art Online and From the New world looked a little sloppy at times, resorting to broken character models to show fluid motion at reduced costs, but if that’s the worst they can do, then they could do a lot worse. They seem to take a lot of care with their work, putting an admirable amount of effort into quality control, like letting a low budget get the better of them would be an insult to their pride or something, and if that observation is correct, then I like the way they think. I’ve noticed that they generally have a penchant for putting a lot of energy into special effects, and then using just enough budget saving tricks to compensate without going overboard or letting it become noticeable. Key frames are well drawn and pleasing to the eye, and they feature a little more than just flapping mouths, with occasional shifts in posture to keep the characters expressive.
Of course, there don’t need to be special effects in a show about musicians, right? Wrong. Not only are special textures like water given special treatment, but we often get visual representations of the emotions brought out by a piece of music, which use environmental and 3D effects to keep our attention during the sequence, especially towards the end when Kousei and Kaori are playing together in a fantasy sequence, and the camera liberally revolves around a beautifully 3D animated piano. The characters also have a lot of inner monologuing that’s shown to us in artistic fashion, reminiscent of His and Hers Circumstances, but what I found the most impressive was the actual animation of the characters playing their instruments on stage. I can’t confirm this, but I have heard from a few people that A-1 pictures used a technique similar to rotoscoping, and I feel no justification for doubting this rumor, as every movement of the performing musicians, from fingers on the keys to the way the bow’s movements perfectly matches the music of the violin.
It would be so easy to get away with having a still image on screen while only the performers arms moved, and more intense note being played offscreen while only the audience’s frozen faces of adoration are showcased, but as I said, that would be an insult to A-1. Kousei, Kaori and several others put their entire bodies into their performances, losing themselves in it, and you feel every drop of their adrenaline. Character designs are beautifully polished and easy on the eyes, with it’s only major departure from reality being that the musician characters look a little more distinctive and exuberant than non-musicians, like Kousei’s friends. Well, okay, there is one other unrealistic detail that bothered me a bit… The difference in height between 14 year old characters and themselves at 12 is fucking insane. My jaw dropped when they said that Kousei quit the piano at 12, because he was so short that when he sat on the bench his feet didn’t even touch the ground. I could have sworn he was, like, 6 or something. It’s my only real issue with the visuals, but it’s still a pretty jarring one.
The music of the series… Do I even have to say it? It’s a series about musicians, and you can’t do something like that if you don’t have the knowledge or resources to pull it off, and they seriously pulled it off. Not only is it full of classical music, you can tell the difference in the way these pieces are being played, and the music that is meant to inspire and astound people does exactly that to the audience as well as the characters. From what I gather, Yuna Shinohara, a decorated Japanese violinist who was only 21 at the time, played the music for Kaori, and her wealth of training and experience did not go to waste. I can’t find as much information on Eriko Kawachi, who played all of the piano pieces, which is unfortunate. The show’s actual soundtrack was composed by Masaru Yokoyama, and while it isn’t as memorable or powerful as the character-based performances, it’s still solid and well-orchestrated, so it’s a shame it gets overlooked in favor of the insert tunes.
The English dub was produced by Aniplex, and features a lot of newer actors from this decade, alongside a few industry veterans. I’d like to say these newcomers step up and use this show as a platform to make a name for themselves, but I’d be stretching the truth a bit, mostly on account of the many loops that Your Lie’s text throws them for. Their performances were not consistent, which is a direct result of their material not being consistent, and I don’t really think it was fair for them to be thrown into something this eclectic. For the most part, they do a fine job voicing the characters while nothing’s really happening. It’s just characters talking to each other, sounding like natural teenagers going about their lives. Where they really shine is during dramatic scenes, and ho boy are there a lot of dramatic scenes in this anime. There’s a lot of pain, insecurities, confusion, all of that fun adolescent stuff, but with a much harsher but still believable edge to it once you realize the kind of real life circumstances that they’re dealing with.
While some of these issues may be worthy of an eyeroll from the viewer… Most of the characters who are in love with Kousei fall into this category… They’re going through issues that you probably had to deal with as well, and you can scoff at it from your seat as a grown up, or laugh at how silly it is for this obvious harem to try and be something more, they’re feeling something you’ve felt at some point, whether you remember it or not, and they damn well make you feel it. The exception, where several otherwise amazing actors begin to falter… Is with the gag humor, when the characters go SD Chibi for exaggerated reactions, and I don’t think they were ready to transition the specific roles they were playing into it. Max Mittelman, for example, is one of the best voice actors to come out of the 2010’s, and even though he hasn’t been acting long, his voice control and dramatic chops have landed him plenty of leading roles. He can do comedy under the right circumstances… You’d know what these circumstances are if you’ve seen One Punch Man… But he sounds horrible during the gag jokes.
It’s even worse for Erica Lindbeck, who had a tough job playing such a nuanced character as Kaori, whose happy-go-lucky persona hides a darker interior, and she does a great job of it, but the gag scenes just make her sound like a despicable asshole. Smaller characters face the same issue, albeit on a smaller scale, but the few veterans are able to navigate the minefield a lot more skillfully, like Wendee Lee(Who, in all fairness, never has to do a gag scene), Stephanie Sheh and Carrie Keranen. They have the experience to stretch their roles beyond the appropriate tones, which comes in handy here. The adaptive script is loose, but still accurate enough, and changes the vernacular so everyone sounds more like contemporary English, without ever sacrificing the intent of the text. They make a handful of charming and character-appropriate references, like occasional nods to Charlie Brown and The Phantom of the Opera, although they also use the phrase ‘as you know’ a few too many times. They probably should have changes some of the text, as a lot of it, when translated, sounds weird coming from 14 year olds.
Okay, so, here we are again. It wasn’t too long ago that I was calling out modern anime fans for letting their emotions cloud their judgement, saying that they often give perfect scores to any anime that makes them cry. Seriously, you could give a critic a massage, a home cooked meal and the best sex of their life and you’d still be working harder for a 10/10 than most anime do. Back in 2016, I’d just uploaded my reviews of Clannad and Clannad Afterstory, and I asked social media to recommend an anime that had genuine feels… nothing manipulative, nothing manufactured, nothing too formulaic, just an anime that would touch me emotionally and make me cry with sincerity. The overwhelming answer was Your Lie in April, a show I’d been avoiding due to all of the hype. I finally gave it a watch, and did it stand up as a heartfelt masterpiece, or did it offer the same old same old? Well, to be honest,it’s a little of both. My feelings on this show were mixed the first time around, and the second viewing hasn’t changed that.
Unfortunately, Your Lie doesn’t get off to a great start. The first thing we see is a foul ball hitting our man character in the head, lying on the floor and bleeding with what has to be a serious concussion, but not only does he heal immediately, but he shares the blame for the broken window the ball flew through. That’s not just bad, that’s disturbingly bad. It sets an early precedent for him being a sad sack with no will of his own, which I guess is kind of accurate, but it also makes his closest friend look like a monster for taking advantage of it(Trust me, this feeling is only gonna get worse.) I try to move past this, but almost immediately, it becomes apparent that all three of Kousei’s friends are some of my least favorite cliches in anime history. His two primary friends are Tsubaki and Watari, and they are… Respectively… A childhood friend who’s hopelessly in love with the main character, and a girl crazy guy who exists to make the main character feel desirable in comparison. I am so sick and tired of these two archetypes being stuck in orbit around at least half of the main characters in the medium.
And Kaori’s worse, because she’s a trope that I usually don’t see in anime, and I’m not complaining about that. She’s happy-go-lucky, she’s childish, she’s an enlightened soul who’s able to see all of the simple joy in life, and she comes out of nowhere to dedicate her life to dragging the main male character out of the slumps. She is a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, which is to sexism what the Magical Negro trope is to racism. Granted, she deconstructs the trope a little bit, as she actually has a backstory and a reason to help Kousei, but she makes up for that small silver lining by taking the “Life begins at man” trope to a new extreme, as “Life begins AND ENDS at man.” I’ll give her this, she IS the reason I kept watching the series, as I was entranced by her violin performance in episode 2, and she made me want to keep watching so I could hear more of her work, which sounded even better when she played with Kousei. On top of that, she plays an important… Dare I say instrumental… Role in Your Lie’s deeper themes.
Your Lie in April is a story about inspiration, and it attacks this concept from every possible angle. As annoying and cliched as his friends may be, Kousei is a good character who has a great arc that deals with this theme. He begins as a child, having fun doing something that he’s gifted at, until he stops doing it for fun and starts doing it as a future career, being forced to perfect it and take it seriously by his mother, who pushes him to the point of abuse. She controls his life, making everything he does revolve around the piano, even taking away his cat and abandoning it somewhere so it can’t scratch his hands. He loses the ability to hear the notes he’s playing, and quits altogether to avoid his mother’s tyranny along with the intense pressure she put on him for not being good enough. On the surface, this is a very mature look at child abuse and the way it can have long term psychological effects on the developing mind, such as Kousei’s performance anxiety, and especially the fact that cats pose a trigger for him(And I mean the actual definition of trigger, not the bullshit internet definition), and the abuse in question is realistic, rather than cartoony or melodramatic.
Below the surface, this is a story for anyone who’s ever lost their passion for something they once loved. The idea that expressive and interpretive music is frowned upon, and only literal performances are acceptable in competition, which is enforced by both the competition committee and Kousei’s mother, gives an understandable reason for his loss of inspiration. His music was becoming routine, and pointless. I don’t think his inability to hear the notes he’s playing is realistic at all, but it’s symbolic for that loss of passion. When your work becomes routine, it becomes repetitive, and it finally becomes robotic. When your hobby becomes work, you fall out of love with it, which is why Kaori coming into his life was such a major turning point for him. She showed him that there was another way to play. She inspires him, breathing new life into his abilities, and helps him to separate his passion from the pain and sadness that he’d come to associate it with, and it changes his life in so many ways… He starts playing again, he comes out of his shell, and he even begins teaching a younger pianist… That he winds up inspiring her in return.
They also make an argument that you play even better when you’re playing for other people, and while I’ve never personally agreed with that, they make a compelling case. Your own music, your own performances, are not your only legacy. The music you inspire others with is just as important, as your work also lives on through their work. They make a great point when they say that it’s hard to play the piano when you compare yourself to Beethoven, but it’s not nearly as hard when you remember that Beethoven was once just like you, a rookie trying his best to measure up to the greats who inspired HIM. It’s a shame they had to resort to a manic pixie dream girl in order to pull this off, but it’s largely forgivable, especially considering certain reveals that happen in the final episode. So yeah, this is not a shallow series. There is meat to the story, and something meaningful that you can get out of watching it. I’d be happy to say that the series was also executed well, but sadly, this is where things start to break down.
The text of the series, for example, is severely lacking. The idea of inspiration and Kousei’s character arc are well written and exactly as subtle as it needs to be, but the other subplots… The romantic ones in particular… Are annoyingly obvious, and frankly, kind of arbitrary. I mentioned Tsubaki as a ‘childhood friend’ earlier, and while this should instantly telegraph that she’ll never get her guy… They never fucking do… She does absolutely nothing else to justify her presence. Everything about her revolves around her love for Kousei and why he won’t respond to it. Every aspect of her life ties in somehow to her love for him, and since it amounts to nothing, she could have been written out in the first half of the series. I won’t go into too much detail about the other romantic subplot, or how it offers Watari his only relevance to the plot(although he does have a few moments relating to the theme), but they commit one other huge mistake… They use constant, and I mean constant, voice over narration from the characters as they explain their feelings to the audience. It’s lame, it’s tedious, and it seems to be trying it’s best to keep YOU from thinking too hard about what you’re watching, because it doesn’t want the pointless teenage melodrama to lose it’s effect.
Another huge problem is the gag humor, which feels viscerally inappropriate and out of place. It makes the heavier themes of the show harder to swallow, and not just on an aesthetic level. For example: We see Kousei sustain head injuries during two of these gags, that result in him lying on the floor and bleeding out. We also see Kaori hit him right in the crown of the head with an axe kick, driving her heel down into his skull. Now, if these instances didn’t cause any lasting damage, and the people doing it are supposed to be seen as likable, how am I supposed to feel when his mother beats him in the head with her cane? I’ve seen him shrug off shit like that before, so I don’t care. Am I supposed to feel different because of the tone of the scenes? This isn’t the fucking Looney Toons. Hell, even the Looney Toons had consistency. I can’t be expected to believe that a portion of the material shown to me doesn’t count just because the writer was making a joke. That’s disgusting. I’ve complained about Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood making this mistake, but Your Lie is just as bad.
And then you have the plot, which did not work for me at all. Like, I said the themes were strong in this series, but they suffered one major setback. Kousei’s mother physically abused him and forced him to play music the way she wanted him to, all because she thought it was in his best interest. His friends, however, do exactly the same thing. Sure, they might not take away his beloved pet, but they still harass him, assault him, chase him, break into his room and generally act like complete assholes in order to get their way. He warns that his performance might not be good, he falters due to a psychological breakdown, Kaori has Tsubaki and Watari start roundhouse kicking him, and HE apologizes. How are they any different than his mother? Because it’s supposed to be comedic? I’m not exaggerating when I say that most of the interactions he has with his friends make me cringe, with their only justifications being ‘comedy,’ and the fact that they just happened to wind up being right. So the ends justify the means.
And then you have Kaori’s entire plot, which… Okay, I’m going to try not to go into spoilers, but if you’ve seen the show, you know damn well what I’m talking about. And this is the big one, the one that makes everybody praise the show out the wazoo, so I’ll try to be gentle. At the end of episode 4, Kaori faints on stage. At that moment, even though I was trying to enjoy the series despite it’s flaws, I couldn’t help it. I knew where this was going. I said, “Oh fuck, she’s gonna (censored), isn’t she?” I am dead serious about that. The beginning of the fifth episode featured her in the hospital, and folks, I predicted everything. I knew what was going to happen to her, i knew she was keeping it secret, I knew that it was going to be kept deliberately vague all the way to the end, I knew I’d never hear her play again(outside of maybe a dream or fantasy sequence), I knew what her backstory and connection to Kousei was going to be.
Knowing this stuff in advance took a huge damper off of the emotional impact of literally any point of the show. Granted, I did make one prediction that wasn’t true. I predicted we’d never meet her parents, which I wish had turned out true, because her parents are… Brace yourself for this… They’re Nagisa’s parents from Clannad. They are literally that. They own a pastry shop, they’re wacky and over-the-top, they live in said shop, and… Well, there’s one other spoiler connection, but that, along with a painful firefly sequence, made your Lie feel TERRIBLE at foreshadowing. I found myself, in both moments, shouting at my TV screen, “Okay, I get it, she’s gonna (censored), shut the fuck up about it!” So did the big bad tragedy work on me? No, of course it didn’t. The only part I got choked up at was a late scene when a cat died at a vet’s office, because it brought up painful memories for me. Don’t get me wrong, there’s something here, and it does make the experience a rewarding one, but it just couldn’t stick the landing.
Your Lie in April is available as a Rightstuf Exclusive, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the price is offensively high. Even on sale as part of the site’s holiday deals, it’ll still costed 130 dollars for each HALF of the series, down from 160 dollars regular price. Used copies on ebay go for as low as 60 dollars for each HALF, and I can not recommend you pay that much for an overrated series. You can watch it for free on Netflix, but if you absolutely need a physical copy, I’d actually go against my better judgement and recommend the Malaysian bootlegs on Ebay, which do come with a dub for a fraction of the official price. The manga is available from Kodansha comics, and volume 1 even comes with a sweet exclusive cover if you get it from Loot Crate. The live action movie is probably available stateside, but from what I’ve heard about it, I don’t care enough to check.
Your Lie in April isn’t a great anime, but it’s also not a terrible one. So, overall, is it good or bad? Well, to be honest, I didn’t enjoy the vast majority of it. I found the gag humor annoying and in bad taste, I found the comedic violence way too similar to some of the tragic material, there are too many cliches, and I caught on to some of the more important plot points way too early to fall for them. Having said that, I can’t say the experience was a bad one. The themes of Kousei’s character arc resonated very strongly with me, as someone who’s currently falling out of love with a long time hobby, and while I found his friends to be wholly unlikeable, his piano rivals were much more interesting, and I actually want to see more of him interacting with them. The final tragedy would have been a lot stronger if it hadn’t been so obvious, or if it at least had a proper explanation, and you can’t possibly deny that the audio and visual production went beyond top notch. It had a lot of problems, but honestly, it’s an okay show. It doesn’t live up to the hype, but it’s worth checking out. I’m being generous here, but I’ll give Your Lie in April a 6/10.

I am first trimester (9w) and I am on a work trip till tomorrow. I woke up with a headache behind my eye and have been suffering all day. To take the edge off (and be able to work without explaining to people who don’t know I’m pregnant that I’m pregnant) I have taken 4 extra strength Tylenol (not at once- at a 4 hour interval). I have to continue working here shortly and I want to take some more (it’s been 8 hours since my last dose). Is this ok?
Doctors say Tylenol is fine but I try to avoid overdoing it- but I can’t have a sick headache here

I've been having so much fun with this little story. Here's part one if you'd like to read it in its entirety! But to summarize:
Vr'ocria and Human Aldrick were sent on a survey mission together. Things went south, Aldrick made sure they were safe, and then Vr'ocria learned what human sleep is and how vulnerable humans are when they sleep. Vr'ocria's people don't sleep, but enter stasis, a form of rest in which they typically stand, and they are still slightly aware of their surroundings. Vr'ocria finds human sleep utterly adorable, and also decided she would protect Aldrick while he slept. And she also developed a massive crush on him. (Her scales turning purple is her version of blushing)
Vr’ocria ran the engine diagnostic again, and again it came back inconclusive. She slammed her fist on the dusty controls. “Blasted thing.” Of course she got stuck with the rusty, crusty old shuttle pod that no one else wanted. Why did these things always happen to her? She just wanted to do her job!
Not for the first time, she wished she had Human Aldrick for company.
It had been two moon cycles since Vr’ocria had last seen Aldrick. They’d only served on the one away mission together, and once they returned to the ship, they’d been sent their separate ways. They worked in separate departments, after all.
But that didn’t stop her from missing him. She’d only spent a few solar cycles with him, but somehow was already totally enamored by the human–the human who was supposed to be a terrifying, dangerous, nearly indestructible monster.
Vr'ocria had met a handful of humans during her service, and they were all polite enough. But Aldrick was the first human she'd ever spent any extended alone time with. It was on that away mission that Vr’ocria learned what “sleep” was: The human form of rest in which the human becomes completely unconscious, and thus, totally defenseless. Something about learning humans were even able of being defenseless at all, much less in such a complete way, had changed her entire perspective on them. She’d grown up always being told to fear the humans, the wild, indestructible humans.
She had been nervous enough to quake in her scales, but he was nothing but kind to her. And when she saw him sleep for the first time–planets, what a blasted cutie. During their few cycles together, she always stood by him when he slept and she went into stasis. Her people were still slightly aware of their surroundings while in stasis, so she would be able to protect him if there was danger.
She couldn’t help but worry about him ever since they separated. Who was going to keep watch while he slept? What if something happened, what if there was an ambush or a ship malfunction and he couldn’t wake up fast enough? She wanted to be there for him…
Vr’ocria cringed at the memory of when she asked her nestmate, Galek, about human mating rituals.
“You want to mate him? Are you insane?”
"No! I mean–well…" Vr'ocria reminded herself to keep her voice down; Aldrick was still sleeping in the next room. "I…Galek, listen–"
"He's a human!" Even through the communicator, she could hear his scales snap. "He's dangerous!"
"He's nice! When the away mission went wrong he made sure we were safe and–" her voice caught when she remembered the way Aldrick strolled fearlessly through a thunderstorm, one warm hand gripping her wrist, unflinching at every thunderclap and lightning strike in the sky that rattled her to her core, as he led them to a cave for shelter.
Galek sighed. "Vr'ocria, let it go. We are not compatible with humans, they do things differently anyway. They don't mate."
Vr'ocria stilled. "They don't?"
"No. Well, kind of? Ugh, why am I even telling you this…"
"Because I'm your favorite nestmate," Vr'ocria grinned.
"Shut up." There was no bite to his words. "Anyway, what I mean is that humans usually court each other first, and then mate. I think they call it 'marriage.' But that's all I know."
She hummed in thought. "This is good to know."
"Vr'ocria, I mean it." Galek was back in protective-nestmate-mode. "Drop it, it's a terrible idea. Humans are…it's just a bad idea, okay?"
"I'm not gonna do anything," she mumbled.
And what if he doesn't even like me anyway?
Her scales faded to a faint red and her shoulders slumped at the thought. Back in the present, she absent-mindedly flicked through the controls on the cracked panel in front of her. Maybe Galek was right, and she should just stay away from Aldrick altogether.
“Agent Vr’ocria, report.”
Vr’ocria jumped at the tinny voice that suddenly filled the cabin. She pressed the comm button. “Commander, this pod is–” she stopped herself from using a few choice words– “in a state of engine malfunction. I can’t even diagnose a problem. I’m not going anywhere in this thing.”
”Stand by.”
Vr’ocria drummed her fingers on the consol.
”Agent Vr’ocria, you’ve been reassigned to shuttle pod Delta. You will join a crewmate there.”
That’s right, Delta was a two-person pod. She groaned inwardly at the prospect of working with someone else in such a cramped space.
Vr’ocria tried not to drag her feet as she approached the Delta pod. The loading door was already open, and she climbed inside. “Hello? I’ve been re–”
“Vr’ocria!”
She turned towards the cockpit, and her scales flashed to purple in record time. “Aldrick?”
The human was beaming as he maneuvered through the tight space to approach her. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, silently urging her scales to go back to green. “Aren’t you in engineering?”
He shrugged, suddenly looking everywhere except her face. “I uh..I asked to be transferred to the survey department.”
“Why?”
His cheeks turned pink. They seemed to do that a lot. Vr’ocria really needed to ask the ship’s doctor if that was normal for humans or if he was getting sick. “Engineering just wasn’t doing it for me, y’know? Needed a change of pace. I volunteered for that one survey mission and it turns out I liked it, so why not try it full time?" He turned back towards the cockpit. “We should get going! I think this mission is gonna be more fun than the last one. The planet we've been assigned has a more stable atmosphere, so fewer storms."
So she and Aldrick would be working together, alone, again. Vr'ocria swallowed hard before following him to the cockpit. Oh, planets, why did these things always happen to her?
—
The trip to planet Theta-7 was quiet. Aldrick occasionally tried to engage her in conversation, but Vr'ocria pretended to be engrossed in her file pad. Guilt prodded her spine with every one-word answer and noncommittal grunt, but she was determined to keep her distance. Aldrick eventually fell quiet, and her scales nearly curled in on themselves in shame.
She avoided looking in his direction, but she still heard the sound of his canteen unscrewing and the slosh of liquid as he took a sip. Her nostrils flared at the odd, bitter-sable scent.
When she realized she recognized the smell, her eyes blew wide and she whirled to face him, dropping her pad. "What are you doing?" She nearly shrieked.
Aldrick lowered the canteen from his lips, looking startled. "Uh…drinking my coffee?"
"Coffee?" Another foreign word. "That's remfrylie! It's a deadly poison!" Her blood was rushing through her veins so fast she feared her scales would start to swell.
Aldrick laughed.
Laughed?
Her scales turned yellow and stood on end. "What is this?" She asked indignantly.
"I'm so sorry, Vr'ocria," he rubbed his eyes, still chortling. "I forgot, I should've warned you–humans call remfrylie 'coffee.' It's a beverage, we drink it. The caffeine in it gives us a boost of energy."
She stared at him.
As if making a point, he took another big gulp from the canteen, and smiled at her. "See? Totally fine."
Slowly, her blood slowed and her scales laid back down. But there was still a thrill of fear deep inside her–she'd become so enamored with him that she'd forgotten how dangerous he was. Drinking pure poison? Just for a boost of energy?
She turned away, embarrassed, a little afraid, and a little angry at him for scaring her like that. She bent over to pick up her pad from where it fell at her feet and went back to mindlessly flicking through her files.
Fabric rustled as Aldrick shifted in the seat next to her. "Hey," he said softly, "I really am sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to do that."
"It's okay." Her voice was clipped and short.
Aldrick was quiet for a moment. "Is everything okay?" He asked slowly. "Have I…I mean, have I done something to offend you? I'm really sorry if–"
Guilt washed over her again. "No, no you haven't done anything." She finally looked over and tried for a weak smile. Now that she was actually looking at him, she could see the way he'd turned his whole body to face her, his fingers fidgeting at the edge of his seat and his warm brown eyes filled with worry.
Oh, that's right, humans had color in their eyes. Her people only had large black pupils, but humans had pupils with–what's the word–an "iris." She'd seen humans with brightly colored irises before, and while she found them beautiful, they also freaked her out. It was just so very strange.
But Aldrick's eyes…
The brown was a little closer to her own black, making them feel more familiar. In the tiny, cramped cabin, she realized that this was the first time she'd ever gotten a chance to really study his eyes up close. The brown seemed to swirl, and she noticed that there were layers of shades and colors floating around his pupils. And when natural light from a sun shining through the window hit them just right–
Aldrick cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to face forwards again. "Looks like we're here."
Vr'ocria looked forward and saw Theta-7's solar system quickly approaching. Oh, right. They had a mission to do.
—
Theta-7 was warm, just how she liked it. The sand, not so much. She tightened her boot laces twice to keep sand from finding its way inside.
The mission, thankfully, went smoothly. Walk, scan, record. Walk, scan, record. Being out in the field was different from working aboard the ship like she usually did, but she found she enjoyed it. With the agreeable weather, she quite liked the peaceful repetitiveness of the work.
Although, things were still awkward between her and Aldrick. She fought the urge to make excuses to drift away from him–since it was just the two of them, they needed to remain within eyesight of each other in case anything happened. As a result, she had a front row seat to Aldrick’s human antics. He climbed trees like it was nothing, crossed a stream by easily hopping from boulder to boulder, nibbled on plants he claimed were edible but that still made Vr’ocria’s scales ripple with unease, and even insisted on approaching a ferocious, furry creature with his hand outstretched and cooing “Hi kitty! Hi baby! Come here, let me give you scritchies, come on–”
Vr’ocria didn’t know what a “kitty” was, but a baby it definitely wasn’t. “Aldrick, please,” she called weakly.
“But she’s so cute!”
“It’s got claws! And look at its big teeth!”
Aldrick grinned as the creature crept closer. Its head came to Aldrick’s hip from where he knelt, still reaching out with his fingers and making a scratching motion in the air. “Naw, she’s just a little baby, aren’t you sweetie? Come ‘ere!”
Vr’ocria trembled on the spot as the creature was finally within arm’s reach of Aldrick. He began scratching its sandy-colored head, and to her disbelief, the creature closed its big eyes and leaned into his touch. “Oh, yes,” Aldrick positively giggled, “you’re such a sweet little baby, aren’t you?”
Vr’ocria could only stare, stunned, as he continued scratching the creature’s head, then its cheek and chin–extremely close to its massive fangs.
“All kitties like scritchies, huh?” he cooed at the…kitty.
Okay, they were kind of cute.
It, she corrected herself. The ”kitty” was cute. Not him. Definitely not.
She didn’t notice her scales flushing a gentle pink as she watched him nearly pull the “kitty” into his lap, beaming and petting it. A gentle smile crossed her lips.
Aldrick glanced over at her and tilted his head. “You’re pink. That’s new, I haven’t seen that color on you before.”
Vr’ocria’s blood froze and her scales immediately flashed to purple. Blast. Shit. Fuck. Great, now she was picking up human curse words.
He blinked at the sudden change in color.
"Oh it’s–” she coughed, “it’s nothing. Just the heat, I think.”
“Are you okay?” He eased away from the creature as he stood, and it darted off into a hole in the rocks. “Do we need to take a break?”
Stop being so NICE, she growled inwardly. “No no,” she squeaked instead. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” She buried her head in her scanner and walked briskly towards the next scanning zone.
When night fell, the two of them made their way back to the shuttle pod. They still had scanning to do, but it wasn’t safe to work through the night, so they agreed it was best for them to take rest inside the pod.
Once they were safely inside, Aldrick laid out what he called a “bedroll” on the floor of the cockpit, between the two pilot seats. Still dressed in his uniform, he laid down and shifted until he appeared as comfortable as he could get. Tugging a blanket over himself, he glanced toward Vr’ocria. “Well...good night.”
“Sleep well,” she murmured. She stood in the short aisle in front of him, facing the door, and began to enter stasis. Despite how much she’d come to struggle with her feelings for him, she was still determined to protect him while he slept.
It was in the middle of the night when Vr’ocria snapped back to full awareness.
Thud.
There it was again.
Shuffle shuffle.
She whirled around and threw herself on top of Aldrick, clapping a hand over his mouth as he jerked awake with a muffled shout.
“Shh!” she hissed. “Something’s out there.”
He stared up at her with wide eyes as she slowly removed her hand. She didn’t move from her position on top of him as she looked up and around the cabin, trying to discern where the sound was coming from.
Thud.
“The door,” Aldrick whispered, looking over her shoulder.
There was one last thud, then a beeping sound.
”Shit!”
Without warning, Aldrick was grabbing her shoulders and flipping them so that he was on top, and before she could even react, there was a core-rattling BOOM.
She couldn’t hear herself scream as a shockwave blew fire and debris over them, and then everything went dark.
Vr’ocria groaned as she came to, her head pounding. She found herself sprawled in the sand, looking up at the night sky. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, her limbs heavy. “What…” when her eyes focused, she gasped in horror.
The side of the shuttle pod where the door used to be now had a big hole blasted through it. Debris and supplies were strewn out across the ground, and judging by the drag marks, it looked like someone had dragged her body out and thrown her haphazardly into the sand.
She leapt to her feet, stumbled, fell, and jumped up again. Forcing her legs to steady under her, she stormed into the pod, and came face-to-face with a Norvidian pirate.
“Fucking pirate,” she roared, drawing her fist back and punched him right in the face. He yelped and dropped the thing he was dragging, and with horror, she realized it was Aldrick.
Something deep and primal flooded through her veins, and she grabbed the Norvidian's head. She slammed it against the wall, once, twice, three times, before dropping him to the ground, where he oozed yellow blood.
“Well that was fucking scary.”
Vr’ocria snapped out of her haze.
Aldrick was struggling to climb to his feet, and she darted forward to catch him before his face hit the floor. “Oh planets, oh my–Aldrick, are you alright?”
He rubbed a hand over his face, still looking dazed. “Yeah, I think–I think I’m okay.” He laughed, and it sounded a little hysterical. “Did you kill that guy?”
She looked over at the pirate, and somehow, she felt no remorse. “I hope so,” she growled. Logically, she knew the pirate was probably just tossing the two of them outside so he could raid their supplies. But the sight of him dragging a limp and pale Aldrick was burned into her memory, and her bright yellow scales rippled with rage.
“Jesus, you’re fucking scary when you’re angry.” He laughed again. “It’s kinda hot.” He turned pink and his face twisted in an expression she didn’t recognize. “Uh, pretend I didn’t say that.”
Vr’ocria didn’t know what it meant for something to be “hot,” so she played along and pretended she didn’t hear that. “We need to get you cleaned up,” she said instead. “Can you stand?”
Aldrick started to shift his legs, then went tense and dropped his head to her shoulder with a groan. It was then that Vr’ocria was able to lean forward enough to see his back, and she gasped.
The back of his shirt was in tatters, stained red with blood. Cuts and burns raced across his skin, and Vr’ocria knew that if she had taken the blast like that, she would be dead.
“Aldrick–” her throat felt thick, “Your back…shit–”
His breathing was ragged against her shoulder. “Hurts like a bitch,” he ground out, “but it won’t kill me. Just need to disinfect and bandage it.”
She laid him down on his stomach as gently as possible and rushed to the cockpit, praying that the first aid kit was undamaged. “Thank the planets,” she breathed as her fingers closed around the handle of an intact box.
She tried to steady her shaking fingers as she gingerly cut his shirt away and began dressing the wounds according to the kit’s instructions for treating humans. She also dressed the few injuries that ran down the back of his legs. Luckily–or unluckily–the damage was concentrated on his back. While she worked, she could see his muscles tense tight enough to crack, his teeth grinding and his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles were white. She knew there had to be painkillers in the first aid kit, but she wanted to get his wounds dressed as fast as possible to prevent him from bleeding anymore. All she could do in the meantime was whisper quiet apologies.
Once she’d gotten him bandaged up, she finally dug through the kit. “Here,” she said as she fumbled with a bottle, “I found some pain killers, they’re supposed to be fast acting. You just let them dissolve in your mouth.”
She could tell he was in too much pain to move, so she held two of the pills up to his lips. He let her feed them to him, and after a few moments, he visibly began to relax. “Oh, that’s good shit,” he slurred into the floor.
“Feel better?” Vr’ocria asked hopefully.
“Yeah.” His voice was still crackly and weak. “Still aches a bit, but I don’t wanna scream about it anymore.”
“Good.” She stood and draped a blanket over him. “Now, stay put and don’t try to move. I need to figure out how to get us out of here.”
The shuttle pod wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. When she investigated the control panel, she found that the blast had knocked out communications, and their personal communicators were wrecked as well. “Great,” she mumbled.
Making her way back outside, she glanced around until she saw the pirate’s tiny craft a distance away. He must’ve landed out there so we wouldn’t hear him, she mused. She was reluctant to leave Aldrick alone, but she jogged the distance and pried the door open. The thing was a rust bucket, stinky and creaky, and she quickly decided she didn’t want to risk loading Aldrick up in that thing.
What to do, what to do…
Then she remembered: There was a survey outpost a few kilometers from here. She could take him there for professional treatment, rest, and to contact their ship.
When she got back to the pod, Aldrick was standing, leaning against the wall.
"How are you feeling?" She asked as she approached.
His eyes seemed clearer now as he looked up at her. "I've been worse," he said with a crooked smile.
Vr'ocria thanked the planets for human durability.
She let out a breath. "There's a survey outpost near here, due east. It's a few hours' walk. Do you think you can make it?"
Rather than answering, he stooped to pick up a blanket from the floor, shook out the dirt and debris, and threw it around his shoulders to cover his naked torso. "Let's go." He hopped easily out of the pod, and Vr'ocria could only shake her head in disbelief as she followed him. Humans truly were unbreakable.
It was still nighttime, but the clouds in the sky had cleared to reveal two big, bright moons that illuminated their way. Vr'ocria kept a close eye on Aldrick as they walked. While at first he seemed totally unaffected by his wounds now that they'd been dressed, she was beginning to notice the tight lines around his eyes, his white knuckles where he fisted the blanket, and the way each step he took was just a little shaky.
After walking in silence for nearly an hour, she finally found her voice. "Thank you," she said quietly, "for saving me back there."
He looked at her with those warm brown eyes and she thought she would melt. "Anytime."
Stupid purple scales.
They were halfway to the outpost when Aldrick collapsed. His knees hit the ground and Vr'ocria darted forward with a yelp to catch him before he went all the way down.
"Aldrick!" She shook him. "Look at me! Hey, hey…"
But all he could do was groan as his head lolled in her hands, slumping forward so that he sagged against her. Vr'ocria tried not to panic, but her scales stood on end anyway. "Aldrick!" This time her voice cracked.
Okay, okay, calm down, he's gonna be fine, he's human, it's gonna be okay… But doubt still twinged in her spine.
She ruffled her scales. Snap out of it.
"Okay. Aldrick," she took his face in her hands, "I need to put you on my back, but you'll have to help me."
He didn't respond.
She slapped him.
"Ow!" His eyes shot open. "Jesus, woman–"
"Look at me. I need to put you on my back, and you have to help me."
He blinked, eyes still cloudy, but finally nodded. It took some maneuvering, but Vr'ocria finally got him situated on her back–"piggy back style," he called it. She held his legs around her waist, and used the blanket to tie him to her. She could feel his warmth and heartbeat from where he was pressed against her back. His breath ghosted across the nape of her neck, sending tingles over her scales.
She tightened her grip around his knees as she walked. My human.
"You're pink again," Aldrick mumbled behind her ear.
Vr'ocria pressed on.
—
By the time they reached the outpost, her back was aching and her feet were sore, but she didn't care. She waved down the watchmen, and within minutes they were being swarmed by a med team. Aldrick was now fully unconscious and much too pale, and the medics wasted no time loading him up on a stretcher and carrying him to the med bay. When they tried to insist that Vr'ocria go to a separate room for evaluation, she snarled and snapped her yellow scales until they backed off.
She wasn't leaving Aldrick's side for a minute.
By the next morning, the med team had worked their magic and Aldrick was sleeping peacefully. He was curled on his side like he usually did, his face free of lines, lips parted, softly sighing with each breath.
Stupid human and his stupid cute sleeping.
She brushed his hair from his face, gently trailing her fingers across his cheek. Human skin was much softer compared to her scales, and warmer too. Aldrick had once explained that humans are "mammals," creatures that were "warm blooded." Her people were "cold blooded." Maybe that explained why she always wanted to touch him, hold him, feel his warmth…
Aldrick shifted and sighed, and her breath caught as he leaned into her hand. His eyes cracked open and he gazed blearily up at her. "Hi," he croaked.
She smiled. "Hi."
"You're still pink," he observed. "Are you okay? Did you get checked out?"
Blast all the planets. "I'm okay," she assured him. "My people turn pink when…when, um…I-I'll tell you another time," she stuttered. Galek was going to kill her.
Aldrick reached up to take her hand from where it still rested on his cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me."
She squeezed his hand. "Anytime."
This got so much longer than I thought it would 😂 How do we feel about one more part where these two idiots finally admit their feelings for one another?

You can see just how fake it is in every episode. If you guys knew anything about tv production, you’d see how All the “real moments” are totally staged.
Like they wouldn’t have a doctor in Torture. They’d be legally obliged to have a doctor who’d have to step in before either of them could take any actual damage they could sue the show or network for.
Or in Boxer. That TV camera in the prison room wouldn’t last for that long and would either rin out of storage (this is a full days worth of footage) or someone behind the scenes was keeping an eye on Spenny and feeding it new tape.
Octopus. Yes, you can show drug use on TV. But in this case Spenny would have to sign legal paperwork saying he won’t sue the show if he died on acid. Spenny basically knowingly took acid and let Kenny fuck with the trip.
They‘re both great actors, who can make everything look real, and that’s their biggest strength. Just look how easy it is for Kenny to fake heroin addiction in Cooler, with the crew totally in on it and props and everything.

A day late but we're here, my little cheeto eaters! Remember as always to grab your bingo cards and let's get our little long weekend slumber party going. This whole fucking thing is FORTY MINUTES LONG, you're all lucky that my sibling who was supposed to spend the day chilling at my place has apparently forgotten that plan.
​

• There's a new opening style than all her other vlogs. Not sure if that's because of Morgan but also I don't care enough to go hunt down exactly which influencer she cribbed this style from. It features a lot of horse butts. Also her using her phone in bed, which I thought she didn't do because she's mindful.
  • The music she uses is this song, which is DEFINITELY not copyright-free, so have fun learning how actual copyright law works, Paige! The lyrics playing over the are "there are times when/it feels right to/run away, run away/when you ask the same old questions/every day, every day/Why do I set the stage?/Why do I find my place on the pedestal?", because I guess Paige went to the Love is Blind school of "make sure the lyrics of whatever song you use are really, REALLY literal"
• Giveaway winners! Congrats to the three people who won a pile of Paige's old garbage! Don't worry though, if you didn't win her trash, she'll be doing a lot more of these because she "appreciates [us] guys so much" and "wants us to experience some of the things that I'm so grateful to get".
  • Nothing says grateful like giving away your extras to strangers and instead of doing anything to promote them like you were supposed to in return for getting them for free, using the existence of this stuff as a way to leverage yourself up on the algorithm.
    • There's also Dairy Boy in the giveaways, of course, because no one's buying it organically.
• She explains moving Louie, it's the same stuff she said on Instagram. Weirdly horses are like the only animal I've never gotten super obsessed with, so I have no idea how BS this is, but it's almost word-for-word her IG explanation, so it's the same level of BS that was. She does word this though as it being a "charity project" and "passion project" she "donated to", because there was a dearth I guess of places to keep your horse in the rich people part of Connecticut.
  • She has to first run to get a grazing muzzle so Louie doesn't overeat in the pasture. This sets off my internal bad animal treatment alarms in a huge way, but again, don't know enough about horses to know if this is warranted.
• Just kidding! Don't let Paige into a Tractor Supply unsupervised, she's too much of a ~country girl~ to not come out with "so much shit". She also got this beef jerky that looked "so good". It's Iowa Smokehouse beef jerky.
  • It apparently looked good because all she had for breakfast was coffee. Why she only had coffee I'm not sure, since it's not like she didn't have the time to get something better. Coffee and beef jerky for breakfast sure is a choice, and one I'm sure her intestines didn't make her pay for later. This summer is all about ~hot girl indigestion~.
  • Story time! This looks like "legit, real beef jerky", which Paige knows because when Paige was in boarding school she stayed with a family who had a lot of cows and they made their own beef jerky, which Paige was of course intimately involved in, I'm sure. Anyway this makes her have such high standards, which is why she loves when somewhere like Tractor Supply (an enormous fucking chain, Paige) or a "local country mart" sells jerky because it's always better.
    • Fun fact that took me less than thirty seconds to Google, this "real" beef jerky is also available on Amazon
• More of the same definitely not copyrighted song as she packs up Louie's stuff and moves him. There's a lot of woman laughing alone with salad shots as she packs up and pretends to talk to... someone and "carry stuff" (ie: stand around touching her own body awkwardly)
• Some weird things about this whole sequence - 1) the "farm" she moves Louie to appears to have very poor, dilapidated fencing, red flag for me. 2) Paige is wearing a white shirt and then a white cardigan the entire time while DEALING WITH A HORSE and it never gets stained or dirty, which tells me she did fuck all, 3) the only guy with her is this big bald much older man who I assume is the guy starting this venture, meaning he's almost certainly who films her cantering around on Louie without her wearing a helmet laughing, which is so unbearably awkward. Like imagine asking a random older dude to film you doing that in a pure white sweater, 4) when Paige brushes Louie he sheds SO MUCH. Is that bad? It feels bad. When a dog sheds that much, even in the spring, it usually means no one's been brushing it regularly, 5) Louie has such a dip in his back and it makes me wince every time, especially when Paige shows him next to another horse. I don't know what that's from, but I hate it and it doesn't look comfortable for him.
• Nance and Baloo are at home when Paige gets back so she's just going to "throw on a little outfit" and they're going to go out for Mother's Day in Brooklyn. Paige really, really didn't want to go into the city because I guess she's suuuuch a country girl (nice, Paige) but she's doing it for her mom and to see her sister
  • Oh my god she DOESN'T CHANGE HER SHIRT FROM THE BARN, she wears a white henley, what look like blue pajama pants, and a leather coat.
  • Nance steals some of Paige's clothes (how I don't know since they're totally different sizes) and according to Paige is"slaying the boots", a phrase I will pay actual cash money to never hear Paige say again
• Next morning, return of the out of focus camera, though it may have been by accident this time because it stays out of focus. Anyway serious business Paige with her serious business glasses is starting the day with some "desk work". Is that a thing? A phrase? What the fuck is "desk work"? Has anyone who actually does work at a desk ever called it that?
  • When she's in Europe it's definitely harder for her to sit and do computer work even though she has a laptop but starting the day on her desktop at the same time as her "whole team" (WHO) it really makes a difference for them being all on the same page.
    • Okay so my actual job in real life is doing shipping and order management for a small creative goods company. I know very intimately what goes into product development, order fulfillment, etc, and Paige is just straight up saying nonsense. Like I paused and gave serious thought to what possibly she could be talking about, and I don't know what all this "work" is. If she was making everything in-house that's one thing, but that's not work she could possibly be doing or overseeing from Europe. But if she's outsourcing stuff, having it sent to a warehouse, and, then paying someone to ship it out for her, I guess she's doing... development? But that makes no sense because again, she outsources everything. She isn't doing wholesale, there isn't a lot to arrange for pop-ups if everything is outsourced and pre-made and she's only supposedly having one this summer, she only has eight products so the website maintenance is pretty easy, as is accounting, and she only really sells stuff around a drop which she does maybe twice a year.......... like genuinely I'm baffled here. It's my job to do this exact same thing every day with products that aren't jeans or sweatshirts or whatever and I'm so, confused about what her "work" is.
    • Allegedly they're on the "final push" for so many big projects and you know what, if any of these projects involve Paige actually doing anything besides feeling three different samples of denim swatches or deciding which vendor she's going to outsource oven mitts to and saying "I like this" or "I don't like that", I will issue her an apology. I feel safe in the idea that I won't have to issue her an apology, but I will keep on on offer in the off-chance I'm wrong.
    • She just finished making a line sheet (genuine lol once I looked up what that was) and apparently we are going to freeeeak out when we see her new merch - sorry, elevated lifstyle products.
    • It's denim. She's been working on denim. She shows us the final washes but it's in direct sunlight so it's all blown out and out of focus so they look mostly white? But she got the "perfect color". IDK, it's a light wash. I prefer dark wash, actually. It's a lot more flattering and forgiving. But we've already determined my aesthetic and Paige's aesthetic are not the same aesthetic. She's nobly pushed back production six months because she refused to do a full run unless the wash was absolutely perfect. It was so expensive but she needed to love love love the denim, because it's really what she's passionate about and what she wants to do, she wants to be the best denim brand out there. You know, because she's hand-making this denim herself, not just sending instructions to low-wage Chinese workers while being afforded the privilege to fuss over the perceived quality for six months because she has parents who are willing to flush money down the toilet on this. Also, for the record, but denim is like... a choice? Like what is the vision, exactly, because every clothing retailer has some version of denim and people are already super married to their faves, so how exactly is this business model working for her, here. And it doesn't look like stretch denim either, which means it's going to fit a very, very narrow group of body types. Like speaking from ample experience crying in GAP dressing rooms over my "freakish" (read, not built like a popsicle stick) as a teenager in a time before jeggings, jeans are not forgiving and easily worn by everyone. The thing about what Paige is doing so far is that it's universal enough. You don't have to really tailor an oversized sweatshirt or trucker hat to fit you. Everyone can make room for another overpriced candle. But denim??? IDK girl, you do you.
• Paige makes Olivia a latte. Olivia comes in and say it's story time about coffee. Paige asks if she should turn off the camera for this and Olivia says no so Paige continues to film herself preening while Olivia tells her a story about how messy she is frothing milk. Paige spends the entire time interrupting her to go "no! No! No! No!"
  • They look at buttons and rivets and embossed leather patches for the back, and then sweatpants leg panel samples. Baloo hangs out with them and Paige tells him he's stinky. She eats toast.
    • WHAT IS THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS. She's not DESIGNING anything, she's just doing that thing like, you know when you're choosing your racer in Mario Kart and there are a couple hundred variations of wheels and chassis and you just choose the unique combos you want to put together? She's doing that but with generic clothing. I've been jokingly referring to her stuff as "elevated Zazzle" but this isn't even Zazzle because Zazzle you UPLOAD ACTUAL ARTWORK TO. Why is she re-inventing the wheel? What improvements does she think she's making TO A PROVERBIAL WHEEL.
• Not sponsored showing off gifting time! It's not in focus at all so we can't really see any of the products (professional!). One of the products she mentions is that she's friends with CYNTHIA ROWLEY'S DAUGHTER who has nepo baby'd her way into dropping oven mitts and aprons that look like Strawberry Shortcake's rejects. Like they're cute, but they're again little strawberries on white. Like tell me none of you silver spoon-ass bitches cook without telling me by making WHITE OVEN MITTS. Those will turn yellowish and burnt after, what a single batch of brownies? Taking a piece of toast out?
  • This haul includes her tennis Tommy bag. Not sure how she got it since she brags about it being "sold out everywhere even Poshmark and depop"
  • There is sooooooo much of this free bullshit. How does she even get this much free bullshit. Why do companies waste so much money sending this to people like Paige who don't fucking care and openly give it away. What is the point of an influencer. IDK at this point I'm spiraling, this vlog is like a third of the way through and nothing has happened.
• Paige unpacks with Nance. She has so many clothes and I don't think she's worn any of them. Full disclosure that this was the point I actually got annoyed and had to take a break and play some video games for fifteen minutes because while growing up comfortably or on the upper end of middle class in a generational wealth type of town has taught me a lot of patience for people with too much money, there is at some point a limit to how conspicuous over-consumption and waste I can handle, and that point for me came when I saw how many sweaters Paige has that look like they've never been worn. And the on top of this she has a giant suitcase of stuff she's going to depop! The environment? Never heard of her.
• Paige is going to get groceries. She's needed Nance's help to do all the hard stuff she's had to do today like going grocery shopping and having soooo many clothes. She goes to Trader Joe's, then goes to a horse shop and of course buys MORE SHIT SHE DOESN'T NEED. I'm not condoning what the French did when they invented the guillotine, like that was really violent and horrible, but the point is that the longer I watch this vlog the more I'm understanding their motivations.
• Paige goes on a sunset ride with her friend Lauren, this song plays in the background as a flagrant copyright violation, I realize at this point that there's no way this video is going to stay up without Youtube copyright striking it so I have to be extra detailed for posterity and we still have so much to go and this is going to take forever. Louie's back still looks horrible and as someone with inherited lordosis, I feel for him.
• Tommy facetime! He says exactly one sentence and catches a tiny fish, for those of you keeping track on your Bingo cards.
• Nance is still over Paige's house when Paige gets back because she never leaves. Paige is wearing old Dairy Boy sweats. At this point when I scrolled down to press the play button again I realized that Nance has posted a comment about how proud she is of Paige within seconds of the video being uploaded. I live with my mother and sometimes I still need her help on stuff like yelling at health insurance until they cover stuff for me and even I am confused by how codependent their relationship is. Like doesn't Nance have her own house? A husband? Other children? Paige has spent this entire vlog needing Nance's help to do everything from grocery shopping to folding laundry and acting like a teenager. It's a rich text for a therapist to one day unpack.
  • It's Taco Monday, this is just a dumb and boring version of Paige performing the white people taco night song. Also bewildering, Paige seemingly DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACO STUFF. It involves almost no cooking! She even bought the spices pre-packaged! She needs Nance's help on this too!
  • Undisclosed new cooking knife brand product placement. They are amazed that it............slices.
    • OH NO SHE SAYS SLAYING WITH BOOTS AGAIN ABOUT THE KNIFE END THIS MISERY
  • Ahahhahah the reason they're so impressed is because they've apparently been cooking with unsharpened knives. Like Paige didn't know you could sharpen knives. A master chef, ladies and gentlemen!
• Oh god we're only halfway through. Paige wakes up the next morning. She got so freckly yesterday (read: she's courting melanoma and is going to age like a raisin). She's going to go play tennis at a club in Greenwich her parents are members at (Note, she shows the logo which means you can spend five seconds googling to discover it's this club. Membership is invite only and it's gauche apparently to discuss how much membership costs, but the estimate is EIGHTY GRAND A YEAR. To be clear, that is nearly THREE TIMES the average American household income. Paige is the child of people who spend more in one year to play tennis a few times a week than most people do getting fucking doctorates, which clears up a few things for me: one, I've never gotten those texts where she casually demands Morgan Wallen pay her back tens of thousands of dollars like it's $50, but I guess to her it is like $50, and two, why everything about Paige and how she acts towards people and money in this video is a million times more effective at radicalizing people on economic policy than anything Bernie Sanders has ever lain awake at night dreaming of.
  • Camera going in and out of focus during this explanation.
  • Ah she's doing it with her mom. Again. Heaven forbid Paige breathe without Nance.
  • Oh also she has to shoot an ad in the tennis dress, but she definitely likes and would go to play tennis anyway.
• More unboxing undisclosed adver- I mean PR.
  • I'm so serious, tthe flagrant wealth being thrown around in this video and the amount of free stuff a trust fund baby with absolutely no merits or skills whatsoever is getting because she has 300K followers on Instagram that she probably bought half of is like the best argument for socialism I have ever seen.
• .Paige gets dressed in the third outfit of the day to go to the dentist. The pants are pointedly too big on her so they don't stay up in the waist and create this weird enormous kangaroo pouch around her crotch. She pairs that with a toddler sized medium t-shirt for a football team she's probably never heard of, a choker that looks like something a boy band member in the early 2000's would wear but out of fake pearls, and cowboy boots. It's... the look sure is looking, let's just say that.
• Paige opines on how much she prefers to do vlogs at home, but don't worry, she won't stop doing travel vlogs for us! (Oh thank goodness, where would we be without the insights we get from them.) She feels like they add variety to her channel (what, no, we LOVE coming with you to the barn to watch you ride without a helmet over unsourced music! five times a vlog!). Sometimes she feels like there's this pressure to show us as much as she can, which explains why all we see in her travel vlogs is hotel room bathrooms, tennis matches, and the tops of various tabletops in restaurants. Anyway she feels like there's pressure because in reality she's there for Tommy. Which we KNOW, that's the entire PROBLEM, Paige. If you were HONEST about the fact that being a WAG on tour sucks and you don't get to actually see the places you're pretending to really go and immerse yourself in, we WOULD HAVE FEWER COMPLAINTS AND YOU'D FEEL LESS ANXIETY, the problem is that you have to keep compulsively lying about how cultured you are and how you really ~got a feel~ for the location. Just stop lying!!! Stop!!! Lying!!! Challenge!!!!! The anxiety you feel and the reason you have to monitor this subreddit comes from your CONSTANT LYING.
  • Ugh she would NEVER have gone to ROME if it weren't for Tommy. I think this is a ploy for authenticity but boy is it coming across as privileged.
    • I do think in her own Paige way though this entire monologue she has is about something I've noticed her talking around a lot - I think she's afraid if she stops travelling and being a WAG no one will care about her. I think she's terrified of doing what makes her happy, which is being home, hanging out with her mom, riding her horses, and spending her parents' money. But if she just let herself do the things she actually liked and stopped trying to always pretend to be cooler and more interesting than she is, no one would keep paying attention to her, because it's not like she has a sparkling personality or wit or unique point of view. Like I'm an interesting person to talk to, but if I tried to make a vlog of my life it would be pretty boring. I work a 9-5 M-F job and the most interesting part of my life is when I go to a concert or craft fair on the weekend or one of my neighbors goes out of town and I watch their cat. It's not riveting, but I also don't need to be doing fascinating things in order to be or feel like an interesting person. But people like Paige who need to always be travelling and going to events and flaunting how busy they are are often really sad and empty people. They're not doing any of the little mundane things that make people happy and spending time connecting with the people around them, they're just always moving around because they're afraid if they stop for five seconds, people will see that the only thing they have going for them is all that movement and travelling. I think Paige is constantly torn between the anxiety that comes with constant travel and isolation and putting herself on display and removing herself from the things that bring her a sense of calm and security, and the anxiety that if she allows herself to feel calm and secure, she'll lose the attention she craves. IDK seems like a thing she shouldn't keep indirectly admitting to in vlogs, seems to kind of undercut half of her material, but what do I know.
  • Also she really is going to positively contribute to Tommy and his life and career, ie: she needs to go home and feels comforted by home because that's where her mom and Amanda wait on her hand and foot and everything is about her, which she misses when she's with Tommy because when she's on tour with Tommy she has to accept that he's the center of attention and she's not.
  • Her home vlogs have been performing the best, like, significantly. Since she probably buys views and comments, this just means she likes them better and therefore buys more engagement for them.
  • Apparently her analytics are telling her that 30% of her views are coming from the "explore" feature, which she says is YouTube rewarding her for being consistent, and, uh. No. Not how that works.
    • I mean yes if you buy engagement it will put you in the algorithm more, but this is the time in the video where she accidentally self-owns. If you're an actual channel getting actual views from people who actually enjoy watching you, then VERY LITTLE of your viewership should be coming from the "explore" feature, MOST of it should be coming from subscribers or regular viewers or people who watch similar content. That's how the majority of people watch YouTube or find new videos to watch. But if fully a third of your viewers are coming from what's essentially a randomizer button, that pretty much confirms Paige is buying views and/or that a lot of viewers leave after a minute or two. Because if her content was good on its own, people would see it and subscribe, and then she wouldn't need to rely on the "explore" feature. But if she, as she says, is consistently getting a third of her viewership from that feature, than that means that a third of people are just randomly watching whatever YouTube puts in front of them and not engaging with her at all, meaning the ONLY POSSIBLE explanation is that she's essentially buying enough engagement to keep appearing on the explore page, but buying the opportunity to be put in front of people isn't actually getting her a larger audience because what she's serving them is a warmed-over turd.
  • Anyway Paige is counting on you not knowing the extreme basics and trusting that she "knows someone who used to work at YouTube who told her that's how the algorithm works"
    • Um if you don't know about social media - no one who works at YouTube or any social media company knows how their algorithm works unless they're the ones writing it, and if they do know, they're not going to tell you because that's extremely valuable, proprietary information and also there's like a lot of papers and NDAs and non-competes they'd be breaking if they did. They're telling you to upload consistently because it's good FOR THE MEDIA COMPANY. The company is trading in being a content hub, so they need people to consistently be uploading content, ie: raising the value of their site in a way they don't have to pay for. That's the entire business model of every. Single. Digital media platform. Heck, that's how most dating apps work too. The product is data. They want you to be giving them free product.
  • "I don't know, like I don't like doing things just for social media anymore?" HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH
    • And a week later you spent a weekend attending influencer parties in the Hamptons for....... what exactly. The scintillating conversation?????
    • She's very quick to say that's not the case if she has to shoot an ad! Loves shooting ads! Please keep sending her free stuff!
    • God this is taking me multiple hours but at this point I've sunk too much time in and also am convinced this won't stay up for copyright issues, so I'm taking a break to like, stretch and clean the bathroom, anything to get me moving and listening to my own thoughts which are in complete sentences.
• I'm back after cleaning the bathroom. I've been at this so long that my sibling has shown up. But I only have ten minutes to go and I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. This whole completely unhinged and unintentionally revealing rant has approximately a trillion uses of the word "like" is from 21:00 to 26:00 and if you want to watch it you can. I probably should have transcribed it for a full AP Lit level analysis, but I'm tired. If we're lucky, when Paige tries to re-upload this with copyright-free music, she'll have kept that in there.
• Paige ordered a shed! She's so excited!
• The fence looks mildly less jacked up when they go back. Paige is brushing Louie constantly in this video. Fourth time I think we've seen her do this. I feel like there's a lot more to horse care than brushing them and she only shows us this part because it looks aesthetic and she doesn't do any of the actual hard or necessary parts like shoveling horse shit, but what do I know.
  • This sequence uses unsourced but definitely copyright song number three!
  • Fun fact: Paige is the same fake brown color as Louie's dappled neck. Aw, you know how pets eventually look like their owners? Cute.
  • Shout out to Paige's friend (perhaps Amanda? Olivia? Can't keep the preppy brunettes straight anymore) who actually wears a helmet riding.
• Next day, we open with a bit of this song (not sourced, copyright infringement number four, possibly more that at this point I no longer notice tbh). Paige puts on boots to go to the new shed and realizes the vlog is going to be so long because she's never done a whole week at a time before. Because I've made it this far, I'm the best. (Aw.)
  • Paige calls Tommy to wish him happy birthday and films it, which seems... odd. Especially since she doesn't film it in a way where he can see she's filming.
  • Paige gets tea for breakfast (nutritious) and a coffee for the guy at the barn we must have seen earlier. His name is Aaron. I could do some google sleuthing and find him probably, but I don't care. Paige met him going on trail rides at her old barn. Do middle aged men usually hang out at barns doing trail rides? Just scoping out young idiots with disposable income? The whole thing seems sus. Apparently he has like seven kids.
  • Paige never realized how expensive pre-made sheds were, but it's a local business that makes it by hand! I assume the local business is called Costco And Sons.
  • More uncredited The Shins plays as Paige only loads the shed with blankets and nothing heavy or unpicturesque.
  • Another Tractor Supply run, at this point they're who really should be sponsoring Paige
  • Paige goes to say goodbye to Louie and he HIDES FROM HER IN THE WOODS
    • Girl.
    • Oh my god no wonder he's mad at her, they've been staying somewhere WITHOUT A STRUCTURE. He's been sleeping OUTSIDE. It got into the 40's every night in New England last week!!!
• Out of focus Paige talking about how she had suuuuuch a long day "running errands". Olivia didn't get to join Paige on her little horse girl excursions because she had to be at the warehouse and onboarding a new DB employee. Anyway Paloma is in town now
  • Paige learns that apparently you're supposed to be washing veggies as she prepares things to grill. PAIGE HAS BEEN COOKING THIS WHOLE TIME NOT WASHING VEGGIES. I.......... I am going to need to be sedated after this.
• Paige exfoliates and puts on a definitely not sponsored face mask
  • She's wearing skiing pajamas. In case we forgot she was a skier. Did you know she was a skier????
    • PSYCH, these are from previous ads with PJ Place but actually she really likes these and this one ISN'T an ad she just loves the product so much
• Paige is doing her makeup! We're at the end stretch! I'm almost there!
  • She took a day off of vlogging to go see her grandparents, but immediately segues into her Ulta trip. Because of her stupid grandparents, she didn't get to go to the barn, frankly how can she survive in these conditions.
  • Dairy Boy phone case plug! She was soooo specific about what she likes in phone cases and definitely didn't just choose between Zazzle, Redbubble, or (insert other brand here)
    • It's a shitty thin cover that looks like it protects your phone from approximately nothing and should cost $10 but I estimate she'll sell it for at least $40
    • Of course because Paige was so super particular about the details and business-minded when it comes to quality it took a long time to make........phone cases.......
  • Tommy calls and says hi
  • Paige rambles about her day and makes coffee. Tommy sent her peonies because he's "so cute". We see the phone cases and they're weird and ugly. More "gifting" (undisclosed advertising) that came in the mail
• Paige makes pickled red onions, every time she does it she changes the recipe a little bit even though she totally has a recipe and isn't googling. She starts pickling carrots which she says are going to "go bad soon" (that takes like six months, how do carrots even go bad?) She also does it in a water glass which, good luck ever drinking from that again without it tasting like vinegar.
• And then with no warning, it cuts off. That took me three and a half hours. It's been a journey and I hate it. If there is ever a vlog this long, I'm doing it in segments across multiple days because I'm exhausted by this much wealth and inanity. Time to go touch grass, start dinner, wash my vegetables before I do so. You know. The little things.

31YO F trying to see if anyone has been through this. here's a breakdown w the timeline: 2020 lockdown: did NOOM, counted calories, HITT workouts regular= lost 16 pounds, felt amazing but I was so strict it was getting obsessive early 2021: back to work, lost that drive & gained only a few lb back november 2021: off nuvaring birth control for the first time in 5 years after discovering it was causing my GI issues & daily headaches. realized I gained weight post-birth control- not too much periods irregular for 6 months, took my first pregnancy test bc I was so late (negative) periods are TERRIBLE 2022: new GYNO, internal ultrasound & bloodwork- all normal. periods are just really bad. still not on birth control october 2022: started Lexapro, 5 mg daily after I went in for an ADHD eval but the psychiatrist wanted me to get treatment for OCD, PTSD & Anxiety first by March 2023: had 3 panic attacks due to weight gain & no clothes fitting (1 was in a dressing room) realized I had gained 30 pounds since 2020. 15 since starting lexapro decided to tell the psychiatrist I wanted off of it, weened off of it just fine I have been watching my food & going to the gym 3 times a week since february with NO change may 2023: due to my issues w lexapro, doc suggested buspirone 15 mg took 1/2 in the morning, felt high...thought it was just the initial taking took 1/2 evening, high again. disoriented, like my eyes wouldn't focus took 1/2 in the morning day 2, finally called doc to tell my experience I was told "This isn't buspirone side effects so go to a doctor now" ((but reddit users also had this same experience so....) i was NOT happy w that response so i quit that doc & stopped taking the med- i've been fine ever sense I am currently on nothing, noticing my anxiety more & more- had a few freak outs last week I had a bad day at the gym, super lethargic & couldn't finish my workout- had a full on panic attack, almost hyperventilated I am sitting at almost 170 pounds, my cholesterol has been high for years. I had blood work done in November (hormone panel, thyroid, etc) but nothing comes up except slightly high cholesterol (117 H). vitamin d & b12 levels are low- I take vitamins to help that. frustrated because i FEEL like something is 'wrong'- I am lethargic every day, I am super sensitive to heat (it's getting 80+ outside & I can't deal), even if i get 8 hours of sleep I am tired, I feel sluggish, I have no drive, weight is still piling on even though I am working out & eating well. I am happy, great home life, not depressed. anyone experience this? I've never "wanted" something to be wrong with me before now. I am waiting to get back into my PCP to discuss more. i'd love to just feel good. or feel OK. 6 out of 7 days a week I feel like ick. anyone?

Hey All - I hope this message finds you well. My FND is pretty much always in full force with daily episodes and when it’s ovulation or cycle time… forget about it… I can barely walk, tremor, eyes shut, neck and jaw locks, body freezes, and incontinence at its finest.
However, as of four days ago I was prescribed KLONOPIN at a small dose in the am and pm and ITS HELPING! It’s crazy, I don’t know if it is a coincidence - but the doc says sometimes it works for some but not others. It’s helping and I am trying to be okay with accepting that this is maybe something I will need for a lil while.
I am not someone who likes anything prescribed especially a med like this. I am a believer of natural and CANNABIS does wonders, unfortunately it’s not something widely acceptable. If you haven’t tried it, please do consider in moderation and see if the relief happens. It can be in a simple tincture, gummy or flower form.
Anyhow - all the best!

The Anomaly was stable.
That's what the government called it, the magic field around the town that turned people into Kobolds. The rules we had ascertained at the beginning of this were still consistent, a Human could enter and leave as many times as they liked and they would remain Human, there was no known process to reverse this, except a spell called True Polymorph, but that would take years, perhaps even decades, of experimentation, innovation, and- possibly- killing, if the players were correct.
It was the realization that I wanted to remain a Kobold that had allowed me to realize I had been fixated only on my kind, our little village in the town. I distinctly remembered living as a Human- even though the memories caused me nothing but grief- knew how to navigate, how to speak with our Human neighbors, how to use technology.
My understanding of the world wasn't being overridden, it was just that, culturally, me and my people were regressing, and even understanding that, we couldn't stop because we didn't want to stop, it felt more comfortable.
The term 'medieval stasis' was tossed around, the idea of a setting remaining locked in a culturally and technologically medieval state. This didn't feel true to me, if I had a microwave that didn't take up a shit ton of space, I'd definitely use it over cooking over a fire. The flatscreen in my old house was practically like sitting in a theater, the bed was disproportionately huge, like going from a twin to a really long queen size.
I didn't see it as technological regression, so much as nothing was made for us, there was no way to accommodate us in a modern society. Even just going to the nearby city was distressing because we're really fucking small, and even scampering across a road on all fours was just asking for someone to get run over or stepped on.
Not to mention, the Humans were also distressed at our presence, even though it was explained what had happened. That said, there were people who came to our town, people who specifically wanted to become Kobolds. Even knowing that it was a very permanent and life-changing experience, even having us explain that there was nothing to accommodate them out in the wider world, they simply accepted that, yes, we were very much a minority in the world that couldn't possibly be accommodated because we were so rare.
But they were insistent, they were fully willing to abandon their prior lives for this, and reluctantly, they were allowed in.
The process was always painless, they just walked in, shrank, and turned into a Kobold, and could just walk over to us and fit right in. The people who wanted this just seemed to be more natural at it, or maybe they were just aware of what we were supposed to act like and knew how to do it, unlike me, who had been completely blindsided.
It was a month into the second year, when one of the Human kids to the Kobold parents turned into a Kobold. Of course, everyone freaked out because it was against the rules, this was an illegal action and changed everything.
Except, it didn't.
The kid simply didn't want his parents to be alone anymore, so he started trying to figure out how to become a Kobold. Well, we had already established anyone who wanted to become a Kobold, aside from that initial mass transformation, would become one, he wanted it, so he became a Kobold. His brother tried as well.
Simply saying he wanted it didn't work, but when he became distressed that he couldn't to it. Pop! Instant Kobold.
Throughout all of this, Brutus just stuck to my side as a very good boy and just did not seem to mind or care that people were changing into Kobolds around him.
I woke up one morning from a sudden surge of magic within myself. At first I was freaking out, thinking I was going to explode, but then I felt myself calming down as the power settled.
Everyone freaked out when I got onto the roof of the nearest tallest building. I mean, even I was a little freaked out because this was entirely new to me, but I ran and took a flying leap off, and with a big-add feather in hand, I spoke a word, and my rapid descent slowed until I touched the ground.
Of course, everyone was pissed at me, told me that I should never do something so recklessly stupid again. Seeing everyone's concern filled me with shame, and I explained that I knew it was stupid, but I felt I had to do it. That if I tried to tell anyone, they'd just lock me up in a room or something.
How do you rationally explain you want to throw yourself off a building so you can make yourself glide to the ground?
The anger turned into excitement as people realized that meant I knew another spell, that I had hit second level and that I should be able to restore the spell I just used, which I was able to.
This of course led people to give me a player's handbook for D&D and told me to read it because my sudden growth of power meant it was absolutely consistent with it and that I should be able to figure out what all I could do.
Which I did.
It certainly outlined a lot of stuff, but it wasn't particularly useful for me, and I had a feeling that at best it was an abstraction of what our reality was, and at worst, an unreliable guide into life. So I just kind of set it to the side, said "That's nice." and went about my life.
It was the third month of the first year that the mine collapsed.
It was a dull roar, a distant rumble.
We all knew what it was the moment it happened, and every single one of us ran to the mine. Human or Kobold, we all lived in constant fear of a collapse. Our family members were competent, this was a generations-long job that a large portion of us learned just to keep the economy going.
I remembered the sound of someone screaming, there was someone trapped under a large boulder, still alive, but unable to get himself out.
Now, I had never bothered to learn the trade, that was something my father did that I was too terrified to do. I remembered, at that moment, that even though a lot of the people who became Kobolds had been miners, they refused to go into the mine, saying they just didn't feel safe in it.
We'd all just passed it off as an understandable fear that a small creature like us could get easily lost in there. But as I looked at the pile of rubble, I knew how to get him out without causing the whole thing to bury him.
I didn't hesitate, I ran forward, throwing off my clothes because I felt they would get in the way, and grabbing hold of rocks I was absolutely certain were stable, I began to climb and began grabbing the rocks that were most likely to fall and potentially kill the man and got them out of the way.
I only registered there were other Kobolds with me when I handed the rock to one of them, who passed it on to another, and another. We cleared out the immediate danger first, while other Kobolds jerry rigged something to get the boulder off the man and drag him to safety.
It goes without saying, that if I could use magic as what the players called a Sorcerer, others could use magic as something called a Cleric, and well, if the man being healed wasn't a sign that there actually was some sort of divine force in the world, I didn't know what was.
We continued to clear out the entrance, not even one rock fell as we instinctively grabbed what would cause a rock slide and got it out of the way.
When I began to feel exhausted, another Kobold came up and told me to rest. I did, carefully climbing down and only passively realizing I'd been up there for a solid four hours just working my ass off to clear the rubble.
It only occurred to me then, as I drank some water and ate some meat, that my father was down there. Saving him hadn't even been on my mind, all that ran through my mind was that I had the knowledge to help, so I helped.
A tool used for smashing the larger rocks to pieces snapped, I barely registered I was running over to them, I just took the broken tool from them and fixed it.
It didn't even matter that I was fucking exhausted and sore, I was up and over there because I was the only one that could use magic to fix things.
Nobody stood idle, There was a group of Kobolds who were waiting, certainly, but they were watching intently, hopping up and running over to relieve someone who was getting exhausted, or running food and water to someone who needed it.
We saw the first hand poking out of the rubble six hours into clearing up the entrance, focus shifted to getting them out immediately, because they were still moving, Within minutes, they were being carried down the rocks to the ground, it was clear to me they were in critical condition, and if they weren't healed, they were going to die.
The spell used on him was called 'Spare the Dying' according to the players. He instantly stabilized, the worst of his wounds- while still bleeding- simply stopped oozing out blood.
I overheard one of the nurses from the nearby city's hospital remark that- by all rights- that man should be dead. It only occurred to me that people from the hospital had come the moment the news of the collapse reached them. None of them had turned into Kobolds, but I could see on their faces that it hadn't even been a concern.
I continued fixing any tools that broke, which allowed everyone to use them again when they did break.
I saw a rock suddenly break loose, I didn't even register the word I spoke, or my hand flying out. All I knew in the next moment was my Magic Missiles hitting the rock head-on. Once, to knock it off course, and the other two times to ensure it completely missed hitting anyone. A few Kobolds looked at me with surprise and gratitude.
I simply nodded, continuing to repair things as they broke.
We found more people, most of them still hanging on by a thread, the Clerics standing by to stabilize them before having them moved over to the doctors and nurses, who were doing their best to make sure they were in a position to be taken to the hospital, where their injuries could be more properly addressed.
The fact of the matter was, we didn't have enough spells to go around to heal everyone, even among the more naturally inclined Druids.
There were people who had died. Family, friends, every time we found them, there was a pause in our work before they were dug out and brought out. We kept working, bolstered by the wails of the bereaved.
We couldn't save everyone, but we'd be damned if we didn't try.
We heard the first muffled voices of the survivors who had managed to avoid being crushed under several tons of stone. We didn't work faster, we kept up the sustainable pace we had, because hurrying would just lead to injuries.
The first hand that reached out from the darkness was briefly grasped before drawing back in. The hole was gradually widened, those of us who could fit went in, working from the inside to safely widen the hole, to shore up the unstable mine enough to keep people safe.
One by one, the trapped miners were carried out, but it wasn't even half of them.
"The rest are still in there." One of them said. "The whole thing is unstable, there's no way we can safe them."
"There's no way you can save them." Kassa, one of the Kobolds who had been a miner, said. "But we're sure as hell going to try."
I could feel the weight of the earth above me as I entered the unstable mine. It terrified the shit out of me that at any moment, it could cave in and probably kill me instantly.
Still, they needed me to fix their tools, because they were sure as hell going to break again.
It was ten hours into the rescue, we had only just gotten maybe a fourth of the people out, and a further fourth of them were dead. We had instinctively known the mine was going to collapse, we avoided it like the plague, but we didn't realize it at the time.
The earth shifted above us, small stones raining down on us. I set to work repairing the cracked timbers, I could feel that weight lessening slightly, it bought us maybe minutes, maybe seconds, but it was enough to get support struts in place.
The plan was simple, we all knew it needed to be done. We would rescue the miners, and then we would collapse the mine.
The Humans argued that the mine was our lifeblood, that without it, the town would dry up, there would be nothing.
"We can always dig more mines." I said. "We can't waste more lives on one that's just going to collapse."
As hellish as it was to make our way down into progressively more dangerous tunnels, being out of the sunlight was doing wonders for my stress. We knew where it was the most unstable, the miners knew where to put the struts to be the most effective, and when we came to the first collapse, we worked our tails off to clear it out.
We silently passed the dead along, those unlucky few who had been crushed. but the survivors who managed to cling on to life were stabilized and taken out with yips and yaps of encouragement and comfort.
When we broke through and saw the wide, terrified, yet hopeful eyes of more of the miners, we immediately knew if we proceeded, their section of the mine was going to collapse, rendering all of our hard work moot.
"We need to pass them a strut." Kassa said. "Listen, and listen carefully. We need to pass a strut through this hole to you. You need to ensure on your end it does not hit the rocks, otherwise, the section you're in will collapse."
"Just pass it through."
It was easily the most stressful thing I'd ever taken part in. Dozens of small hands keeping the damn thing stable, while the miners on the other side tried their damnedest to keep it steady. Kassa directed them to where to put it, and once it was firmly in place, we cleared the rocks out, urging the miners to get out.
They looked back at us when we didn't follow.
"No, absolutely not. You are not going in there." One of the miners said.
"Kobolds don't abandon family." My brother, Tallyn, said firmly. "We'll all die before we consign them to death."
Even though our every instinct screamed at us to turn tail and run, we pressed onward, the struts only barely keeping the ceiling above stable.
I began to hyperventilate, requiring someone to help calm me down. I was welcome to go, but I needed to stay, I needed to be present to ensure our tools could be repaired.
As if to illustrate my point, one of the struts broke, the mine groaned, and I immediately leapt up to repair it.
We went deeper.
The next collapse was reasonably stable, for what it was worth, we were able to clear it out, and thankfully without any other casualties. I had to resist the urge to run over to my father and hug him, but I did grab his arm and gave it a squeeze.
I think that was the first time he'd ever looked at me with such pride in his eyes.
Eighteen hours into the rescue, we reached the end and got everybody out. The sudden jolt of terror that ran through my body told me we needed to leave immediately. We ushered the miners out, tried not to panic as we slowly ascended to the surface. Struts began to crack, it was all I could do to keep them whole while everyone got out.
I began to smell fresh air, and that's when the mine behind us began collapsing. There was no time to waste, we ran for the surface, my exhausted and hurting body screamed at me to move, but just as I was almost out, I felt something heavy hit me, and then I was buried.
I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew I was going to die, but the moment I realized that, all fear of dying just... went. I had stabilized the mine for as long as I could, I had worked my tail off to keep things going, and I was proud of what I had accomplished.
Still, I only had the merest trickle of air, and my brain was still in survival mode.
I fell unconscious at some point, I wasn't going anywhere, and I was too tired to fight it. But when I opened my eyes, it was to the faintest shaft of light peeking in, the sounds of rocks being moved.
It was just me in here, the chances of me being alive right now was completely slim, I would have forgiven them for leaving me to tend to the wounded, but they resolutely kept working.
They had to be exhausted, at the end of their rope, there was nobody capable of continuing.
There was nobody who could save me.
"I don't care if he's dead, I'm not leaving my boy in there!" The voice was muffled, but it brought tears to my eyes. I tried to call out, but all I could manage was a weak sound.
Still, I kept breathing, kept trying, even as the rocks shifted around me dangerously, threatening to finish me off.
There was a brief pause, an indistinct voice, and then silence.
I cried out, my voice barely a audible even to me, there was no way they could hear me.
Still, I cried out, I couldn't manage a single word, but I tried regardless.
"Did you hear that?"
I cried out as loudly as I could, and then I could hear the rocks moving again, I felt the weight around me shift, I could get more air in. I cried out, louder, straining to push myself out, and then, the finally gave way.
All I could manage was pushing my snout out into the fresh air and managing another sound, I felt a hand on it, smaller, a Kobold's hand. They were still trying to reach me.
I was pulled out, my breath rasping, my body in utter agony, I was blind in one eye, and against the hellish light of the bright morning sky, I saw a Kobold leaning over me.
"Family doesn't abandon family." He spoke with my father's voice.
I felt relief as my body was healed, but I was still absolutely weak from fighting to survive.
"You became... a Kobold..." I rasped.
"I kept thinking to myself, if only I knew how to get to you." He said. "If only I could find you. I could feel myself on the cusp of transforming, and I ran headlong into it because it was the only way to save you." He hugged me, crying, overwhelmed with relief.
Of roughly 2,000 Humans, 786 died.
The miners had found a new vein, silver, certainly more than enough to keep the town going.
But they dug too deep, they weren't careful enough.
There was no resentment from the Humans for us not realizing the mine was unsafe. We didn't know at the time what the aversion was, so it was just chalked up to fear due to being in an unfamiliar situation
With the mine utterly collapsed, there was no real way of salvaging it, it would probably cost more to excavate it and make it stable than that silver vein would be worth.
Incidentally, the moment everyone was out and safe, every single Kobold had 'gained a level', the players explained that we had solved a significant crisis, and that gaining a level was usually the result of such.
They then said, with the kind of manic grin I only saw from gamers who liked games with punishing gameplay, "It's only going to get harder to earn them from here."
Getting used to life with a blind eye was a bigger adjustment than learning how to live as a Kobold was. Still, it was a small price to pay for saving as many people as we could.
We started scoping out another location for a mine, somewhere close enough that we wouldn't have to go far.
When the Human miners heard that we had an instinctive sense of when a mine was safe or not, they all instantly transformed. Even the merest prospect of having that kind of ability had led to such a strong want for it, that they just flat out changed.
Of course, like my father, they had to adjust. Some of them were upset that it happened, but like me, they learned to accept it and appreciate it.
I threw myself into honing my spellcraft, every day I practiced, getting creative with my spellwork and just generally improving in my reaction times.
My fellow Kobolds all looked at me with respect and gratitude. We all knew that my dogged insistence on going with the rescue party to make sure our tools were in top condition had prevented a lot more deaths.
It wasn't that they thought I was the only reason we succeeded, but they understood my absence would have led to catastrophe.
Having achieved this third level of power, I had gained access to something called 'metamagic', as well as second level spells.
I didn't really have any control over which spells I gained insight into, but I could sense that any spells I knew prior I could change one of them into something else.
Thus, I gained an understanding of the spells 'Witch Bolt, Vortex Warp, and Enhance Ability'. Which meant I could conjure a steady stream of electricity, teleport someone to another spot near me, and enhance someone's physical and mental attributes, of which there were apparently six.
The 'metamagic' that I learned granted me the ability to cast certain spells near-instantaneously, and to extend the duration of an effect.
There was a hard limit on what I could do, but it was useful when applied correctly. If someone was going to be doing heavy lifting, I could bolster their strength for an hour- two, if I used metamagic- or bolster the intelligence of someone who just couldn't figure something out.
The scientists who had come to study us wanted to make exclusive use of this, but I very firmly told them, "Unless you're absolutely stuck on something, and nobody else needs it before I need to sleep, then I'll do it."
That being said, I did absolutely test the spell on myself so I had an idea as to what it did.
That all being said and done, we did have a town meeting.
The Players had something important to tell us, something we needed to be aware of, before we did anything with the dead.
"There are two spells we do not have access to yet, that can return the dead to life."
Resurrection, a 'Seventh Level' spell, and True Resurrection, a 'Ninth Level' spell.
"As a Cleric, I will be devoting my all to reaching Level 13, which is the earliest that Resurrection can be learned. It is entirely likely it will take more than a year to even learn this spell, let alone get to a point where I could cast it more than every long rest."
"Roughly eight hours of rest." Another Player helpfully clarified.
"I want you all to understand, it may be entire years until I can learn it. At that point, I will only be able to restore three people to life per day. It would then take a little over nine months of non-stop effort to bring them back."
"We did the math, three people per day with just one person, that's twenty-one per week, or eighty-four per month. Seven hundred and eighty-six people divided by eighty-four is- rounding up to the nearest tenth- nine-point four."
"This is with the understanding that there is no guarantee of bringing them back. If the soul is free and willing to return, then they will return to life. Otherwise..." The Cleric trailed off.
"Otherwise, they will remain dead." His aide spoke solemnly.
"I want everyone to weigh the choice I give. I can't say they'll be appreciative of being brought back, they'll more than likely be upset that they've missed years of their life, or even if they will get the missing years back."
He looked at everyone, who sat in silent shock. "Either make your peace with the dead and move on, or wait knowing that as long as I draw breath, I will bring them back." He paused. "I will be conducting a funeral at the end of the day. May the Platinum Dragon grant you comfort, and may any Gods you worship do the same."
With that, he bowed his head and left.
​
[Navigation for 'Dragon Rising'- [1] [2]]

Chapter 1
Camila
I cursed under my breath when my car suddenly stopped in the most dangerous place in L.A.
I was in the middle of the road in a popular neighborhood where the enemy held a stronghold. They must not know a girl like me was stuck here — a lady carrying drugs worth hundreds of thousands in the trunk of her car.
I began to hit the steering with my fist and stared at the front of the car as if I would understand the problem by looking hard. Then, I sighed again. This was indeed a terrible situation. But I had learned not to panic in dire circumstances like this. All I needed was an idea of what I should do and do it fast.
I picked up my phone from the holder and dialed Lucio's line. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. That was Don, the man who sent me on this mission. He was a busy man and wouldn't answer random calls unless it had to do with successful delivery.
But I was in danger, and he could lose me and the goods in the car.
I looked out of the window to have a clear view of my location. The Gerrard Lorenzo cartel dominated these areas. I would be skinned alive and fed to the dogs if they knew I was one of Lucio's girls.
I removed the key from the ignition and tried again, but the car only stuttered for a few seconds and stopped. My heart had begun to beat fast and repeatedly. The time was getting late, and I began to imagine wild and dangerous stories — of assaults and girls who lost many things or their lives for being the mafia moll for a cartel. What would happen if a swarm of boys (drug dealers) came around and found out I was that girl?
I was the girl who pushed drugs for Lucio — the Spanish guy who terrorized them, the enemies, with his ways.
I picked up my phone and dialed his line again. He had told me to move the drugs to those who would sell them in Beverly Hills and return home as soon as possible. My job was to be fast and carry the money home without hassle. The phone rang for a few minutes, and I said to myself, “Please, Lucio, pick up, pick up,” many times.
He didn't pick up the call, though, and my anxiety multiplied.
I looked out the window to my left and saw a four-story building. I could not step down and ask for help, and I dared not leave the car alone to look for help. I couldn't open the trunk for any stranger because of the bags in the trunk. There were four of them, and all of them were fully stacked. This was my job, using my beauty as a tool to drive safely through the street and handling drugs for those who paid for it.
Trying to start the car again, I said a little wish as I turned the ignition. It stuttered like it did before and stopped. I needed to update Lucio pretty fast. I had been on the road many times and on long journeys, and I knew when it wasn't safe.
I heard a car coming along, so I pulled out my pistol from my pants. I had rarely fired a gun except some years ago when I was made to punish a guy who tried to assault me. Lucio made me do it.
The car drove past without care that another vehicle was parked and the occupant was a young woman.
I put my pistol back in my pants and tried to start the engine again. For the hundredth time, it failed to start. The only option was to call for help, the fastest I could get. So, I picked up my phone and called the only person I knew could answer on time. David. He was one of the soldiers and lived some hours away from here. He had helped many times like this. Sometimes, he would send a boy to come around, and sometimes, he would go around himself and bail me out. Not usually in cases of stuck cars, but those involving police and street fights. He had been the guy.
I called him thrice and listened to the phone ring each time, but he didn't answer. My hands began to shake as I put the phone down. The night would get late, and when it came to moving drugs, this amount of drugs, I should have a way to protect myself in case anything went wrong. The night, too, was my best bet.
I pulled out the gun again and stepped out of the car. First, I put it closer to my left hand and stood outside the vehicle. Then, I opened the hood, trying to see if there was something I could touch that would miraculously save the day. Then, I would run the errands, return to my place, and text Lucio I had delivered the package. Once my job was done, I would get paid.
Nothing made sense under the car hood. They were just metals and bolts and wires.
I heard footsteps coming along the road and looked up toward the place. They were boys, and you could tell they had been drinking from the slurry words they threw around to how they laughed like they were being paid extra if they could sound a little louder than the person beside them.
I was fucked. They were five in number, and my mind went to the last time I had a moment like this. If Lucio hadn't intervened, three boys could have assaulted me ten years ago. That was the beginning of our relationship.
I put my hand on my waist and grabbed the gun's handle. I wouldn't pull it out if they didn't do anything stupid. But if they did, so help me, God, they would be dead in a minute.
"Ma'am, do you need help?" I heard the voice from a distance. Before I could turn my head, two boys were beside me, looking down at the inside of the car. "Try to start the car, ma'am," one said.
I rushed to the driver’s seat and tried to start the engine. The boys told me to stop, and they began to do a few things. They were probably college students returning from a party? I couldn't figure out what they were doing with the car. All I knew was I would be happy if they could start the engine.
The engine started. They worked on it for a few minutes, and it made a blaring sound and started. I almost jumped for joy. Then, I got out of the car.
"Thank you so much," I said.
"If you have booze in the car, we will appreciate it," one of them, who had done nothing with the car, said.
"I don't have booze, but I've got this," I said, bringing out five hundred dollar notes. I handed them the cash, and they thanked me. Then, they walked away in the other direction.
I started my car and drove toward Beverly Hills, where I would deliver the drugs.
The road was quiet because it was in the dead of the night. I was a little late to deliver the drugs, but this usually happens. Sometimes, you get to where you want to go on time. Sometimes, you must take a different route because you got tipped that the cops were on the way. The bags of drugs were stacked with some bar soap, too. It had never helped during the search, but I had never been stopped and searched for the past two years I worked for Lucio.
I arrived at my destination some hours later and drove into the compound. There was the usual flirting with the guys. Then, they took the bags out of the vehicle. The drugs were tested, and I was allowed to go. I texted Don instantly. This time, he read the text but didn't reply.
Soon, I was on the raid again, like the driver that I was. One delivery in the middle of the night, and I had been paid more than I could earn as a bartender. I could have stopped working at the bar, but Don owned the place and needed me there. He trusted me with his affairs and business. We could get married in the future when he was ready, but I was sure that was a big lie.
I was close to the road that led to my house when I saw a car behind me. I saw the light flashing before my eyes. I tried to keep it off, but it followed like a parasite would follow its host. This was a chase, and driving was one of my favorite hobbies besides dancing on the pole. Stripping was my job some years back.
So, I hoped the car wouldn't fail me again as I began to speed. This was the road between Beverly Hill and San Diego., and it was dark and lonely.
Eventually, my car failed me and pulled over when I needed it to start moving fast. I held my pistol and looked at the inner mirror.It was too late to fight, and it was time to accept defeat. Holy Mary, forgive my sins, I said. Damn, I had forgotten how to pray the rosary or anything related to the church.
I put my gun down and waited.
Then, someone corked a gun from a dark distance. Footsteps began approaching, and I shut my eyes and raised my hand. This was probably a message for our Don, for something he had done wrong or had been doing. A gun was pointed at me through the side window, and I looked up to see it.
More tears pushed out of my eyes, and I shut them tighter like I was ready for a final call. Then, the sound of a gunshot followed. I was not the one who fell, but the man standing by the car door.
I looked around the area and saw a man coming along. He corked his gun again, and the vehicle behind started, and a few gunshot exchanges followed.
I didn't know what to do, but sitting and screaming didn't help. So, I lay down in the car and stifled my screams by biting my lips hard.
Some minutes passed, and everything died down. I got up slowly and looked out of the side mirror and at the road. Two men were on the floor, the one who had tried to shoot me and another man who had appeared like an angel and shot at the first man.
One was dead, and the other was bleeding out by the side of his arm. At first, I wanted to drive off. This was what Lucio would have wanted me to do. He would like it if I had run for my life. But if this other man had not risked his life as he did, it would be my body lying dead now and not his.
I opened the door of the car and looked at the man. He was still breathing but on the floor, almost dead.
"Hello, sir," I asked.
He didn't answer, but I noticed he tried to move or lift his hands up.
So, I ran closer to him.
"Sir, I can get help," I said.
He shook his head. He got on his feet as if he had not been shot or bleeding badly. He stared at me like he was not there, just a moving body without life. A ghost. "You should get out of here. They will come back for his body," he said. Then, he began to walk down the road. He only took a few steps when he crashed on the floor and collapsed completely.
I rushed towards him and noticed he had passed out. If I could get him home, I could get him some help. So, I began to drag his body toward his car.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C41F6W2W

I felt myself losing consciousness, and it started to feel like my life was slipping away. Immediately after I felt I "fell asleep", I "woke up" somewhere more beautiful than I could ever imagine. I saw an angel asking me to come with him. When I asked him where he was taking me, he said "You are about to enter the Great Hall of the White Throne of Judgement. The Son of God who sits on the throne has beheld your heart. He knows your innermost thoughts and desires. Nothing is hidden. May your name be found."
My life was one of a double-sided Christian since childhood, so when I approached the throne, I said "I served you, Lord. My whole life has been about serving your name. It's been an honor, my Lord."
Jesus then asked one of the angels "Gabriel, is his name found in the Book of Life?" Gabriel looks through a book for a minute or two, and then responded "No, it does not, my Lord."
Jesus then faced me directly and said "You are guilty of denying me. You will be taken to the Lake of Fire where you will spend eternity away from my presence; in the company of Satan and his demons, and all those who have denied me."
I then fearfully asked "But, Lord, how have I denied you? I accepted you as a boy. I've been a Christian my whole life. How can this be?"
Jesus then turned to the angel and said "Gabriel, reveal the works of his life."
I can then see all of my sins flash before my eyes. An emphasis was put on those I committed to support my drug habit.
I saw thefts from stores and loved ones, and then the words "You shall not steal."
I saw the lies I told to manipulate others into enabling my addiction, and then the words "You shall not lie."
Finally, I saw many images of me getting high, and how it was the most important thing in my life. After those images, I saw the words "You shall have no other Gods before me."
When it was over, Jesus told me "I would have gladly delivered you from this disease. And if you had come to me with a broken and contrite heart for salvation, I would have erased these deeds from all memory. But you never knew me. And these deeds are merely evidence of what was in your heart all along. I gave you many chances to repent in life, but out of your lust, you refused. You prayed a prayer decades ago, but it meant little. You never followed me. You never knew me."
All I could say was "I am so sorry."
The Lord continued "You do not know me, and I do not know you. My Word is clear. You have made your choice. Therefore, you must depart from me and go to your enteral punishment. You must go to the place reserved for thos who reject me. For many are called, but few are chosen."
I was then dragged away to the edge of a cliff, and I got closer, I could see I would be tossed over it into a fiery place I instantly recognized as Hell. When I was tossed from the cliff I yelled "What kind of God are you?"
But before I actually reached the flames, I woke up and was alive again. I had been Narcanned.

Male, 30, smokes cigarettes about half a pack a day but just started using patches to quit about 4 days ago, has history of high blood pressure but doctors have dismissed it as a one off even tho it's constant, eats healthy a little overweight but nothing concerning. This morning he woke up complaining of chest pain and fullness said it felt like someone was pushing down on his chest and dizziness. While talking to him I noticed his eyes were rapidly darting and he said he couldn't tell so I urged him to go to the ER for the chest pain and eye darting because that just freaked me out. He put it off as maybe he's tired he's been very fatigued this last week. I finally convinced him to go an hour ago. EKG, blood tests and chest x-ray all came back normal they're going to discharge him soon and they said they're not sure what's going on chest wise but dizziness and the eye darting is probably inner ear issues. His pulse is 50 and BP right now is 148/120. What could be going on? Should we get a second opinion? I'm worried about his health but he doesn't want to go to another doctor.

It was the letter arriving that set everything in motion, an invitation to a dinner date with a ghost.
Amongst the mounds of catologues and over due bills that were shoved into my mailbox, and then into my handbag upon retrieval by me, was a handwritten letter, marked with calligraphy I recognized straight away.
It would have been easy to put it in the bin, without reading it, without even opening it. But maybe it would have been dangerous, too. A risk I couldn’t take.
I dressed in all black, it seemed fitting after all. Nancy watched me with inquisitive eyes, but remained silent. At 7, she already knew better than to ask questions.
I didn’t leave her with a sitter, there was no need. Just a plate of pizza and the TV set on SpongeBob SquarePants, her favorite, it would keep her distracted long enough. I told her I loved her as I breathed in the strawberry scent of her shampoo. She giggled.
I saw him straight away, my heart fluttering at the sight it him. Lyal was dressed in all black too, and for a moment I remembered us how we once were – young, hopeful, in love, the world at our feet.
Now, his teeth were falling out, crumbling as he spoke. He smelt of death, decay and wet dirt. Seeing him reminds me of how much I love him. What I haven’t let myself think about for the last 7 years.
“It’s time.” Lyals voice is gravel. He speaks slowly, sounding each word.
I nod.
In my hands, he puts his. Cold, damp. I see the last 7 years flash through my eyes. My sweet little girl. My Nancy.
When the doctors told us she was sick, and we were out of options.. We did what we had to do. A life for a life..
7 years with mum. They had been wonderful. Now it was time for little Nancy to have 7 years with dad.
As I watched the Colour drain back into lyals face, his grip on my hands became stronger, warmer. I felt my heart shudder, my own body start to slow, turn cold.
It hurt, but I smiled through the pain.
I hoped my little girl would have fun with her daddy.

Diretide/TI8/TI9/TI10/Nemestice/Aghanim's Immortals & Collector's Cache Sets FOR SALE
...........................................................................................

• We need to be friends for at least 30 days to be able to send the item/set as a gift
• To reserve an item/set you need to pay 25% of the price in advance
• Can do Dota2/CSGO/TF2 items/Skrill/Paypal
• You can add me if you have any questions

Link to my spreadsheet, with all my prices, stock and reservations already made
TI8 COLLECTOR’S CACHE II SETS

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Shimmer of the Anointed (Nyx Assassin)	4$	12	-----
The Rat King (Chen)	5$	10	-----
Pattern of the Silken Queen (Broodmother)	5$	12	-----
Shackles of the Enduring Conscript (Axe)	6$	9	-----
Fires of the Volcanic Guard (Ember Spirit)	8$	11	-----
Loaded Prospects (Brewmaster)	10$	12	-----
Ire of the Molten Rebirth (Phoenix)	10$	8	-----
Pitmouse Fraternity (Meepo)	10$	6	-----
Raiments of the Obsidian Force (Underlord - Rare)	20$	9	-----

TI8 COLLECTOR’S CACHE I SETS

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Grasp of the Riven Exile (Weaver)	4$	9	-----
Insights of the Sapphire Shroud (Dark Seer)	4$	9	-----
Pillar of the Fractured Citadel (Spirit Breaker)	5$	7	-----
Primer of the Sapper's Guile (Techies)	6$	3	-----
Trail of the Sanguine Spectrum (Bloodseeker)	8$	4	-----
Molokau Stalker (Venomancer)	10$	10	-----
Raptures of the Abyssal Kin (Queen of Pain)	10$	4	-----
Morbific Provision (Witch Doctor)	10$	5	-----
Fate Meridian (Invoker)	15$	2	-----
The Murid Divine (Necrophos)	15$	7	-----

TI9 COLLECTOR'S CACHE II

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Automaton Antiquity (Broodmother)	5$	3	-----
Prized Acquisitions (Batrider)	5$	6	-----
Directive of the Sunbound (Clockwerk)	6$	4	-----
Tribal Pathways (Warlock)	6$	4	-----
Verdant Predator (Venomancer)	7$	2	-----
Sight of the Kha-Ren Faithful (Drow Ranger)	12$	4	-----

TI9 COLLECTOR'S CACHE I

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Riddle of the Hierophant (Oracle)	5$	1	-----

BP 2020 COLLECTOR'S CACHE II

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Secrets of the Celestial (Skywrath Mage)	5$	19	-----
Clearcut Cavalier (Timbersaw)	5$	17	-----
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade (Rubick)	5$	20	-----
The King Of Thieves (Keeper of the Light)	5$	16	-----
Blaze of Oblivion (Phoenix)	5$	25	-----
Blacksail Cannoneer (Sniper)	5$	18	-----
Beast of the Crimson Ring (Bristleback)	7$	14	-----
Evolution of the Infinite (Enigma)	7$	19	-----
Wrath of the Fallen Ones (Doom)	7$	15	-----
Crown of Calaphas (Shadow Demon)	7$	17	-----
Talons of the Endless Storm (Chaos Knight)	9$	18	-----
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler (Arc Warden)	20$	8	-----
Horror from the Deep (Tidehunter)	20$	8	-----
Master of the Searing Path (Ember Spirit)	20$	8	-----
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber (Templar Assassin - Rare)	15$	26	-----
Claszureme Incursion (Faceless Void - Very Rare)	50$	2	-----

BP 2020 COLLECTOR'S CACHE I

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Songs of Starfall Glen (Enchantress)	5$	7	-----
Beholden of the Banished Ones (Warlock)	8$	5	-----
Herald of the Ember Eye (Grimstroke)	8$	6	-----
Apocalypse Unbound (Ancient Apparition)	8$	6	-----
Fury of the Righteous Storm (Disruptor)	10$	2	-----
Heartless Hunt (Bounty Hunter)	10$	1	-----
Flashpoint Proselyte (Huskar)	10$	3	-----
Fissured Flight (Jakiro)	10$	3	-----
Mindless Slaughter (Pudge)	15$	2	-----
Ancient Inheritance (Tiny - Rare)	20$	4	-----
Forsworn Legacy (Ares - Very Rare)	50$	1	-----

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Twilight Hex (Dark Willow)	5$	3	-----
Caerulean Star (Enchantress)	5$	5	-----
Silence of the Starweaver (Oracle)	5$	3	-----
Astral Terminus (Enigma)	10$	2	-----
Litany of the Damned (Doom)	10$	1	-----
Desert Bloom (Nature's Prophet)	10$	1	-----

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Secrets of the Frost Singularity (Ancient Apparition)	3$	7	-----
The Chained Scribe (Grimstroke)	4$	5	-----
Forgotten Fate (Mars)	8$	4	-----
March of the Crackerjack Mage (Rubick)	8$	3	-----
Blightfall (Abaddon)	10$	1	-----
Cosmic Concoctioneers (Alchemist)	10$	1	-----
Widow of the Undermount Gloom (Broodmother)	10$	1	-----
Apex Automated (Clockwerk)	10$	1	-----
Days of the Demon (Axe)	10$	1	-----
Perils of the Red Banks (Chen)	10$	2	-----
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected (Ogre Magi - Rare)	15$	5	-----

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Grand Suppressor (Silencer)	2.5$	15	-----
Darkbrew´s Transgression (Alchemist)	2.5$	16	-----
Transcendent Path (Oracle)	2.5$	15	-----
The Wilding Tiger (Brewmaster)	2.5$	15	-----
Dawn of Darkness Foretold (Doom)	2.5$	15	-----
Cursed Cryptbreaker (Pudge)	2.5$	14	-----
Feasts of Forever (Night Stalker)	2.5$	16	-----
Withering Pain (Clinkz)	2.5$	16	-----
Freebot Fortunes (Ogre Magi)	2.5$	14	-----
Acrimonioes of Obsession (Vengeful Spirit)	2.5$	14	-----
Sacred Chamber Guardian (Huskar)	2.5$	16	-----
War Rig Eradicators (Techies)	2.5$	14	-----
Darkfeather Factioneer (Phantom Assassin)	5$	11	-----
Bird of Prey (Legion Commander)	10$	4	-----
Grudges of the Gallows Tree (Treant Protector - Rare)	10$	16	-----
Brands of the Reaper (Anti-Mage - Rare)	10$	13	-----
Sublime Equilibrium (Void Spirit - Very Rare)	25$	3	-----

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache I

SET(HERO)	ITEM VALUE	STOCK	NOTE
Hounds of Obsession (Chen)	2.5$	18	-----
Seadog's Stash (Clockwerk)	2.5$	18	-----
Chines of the Inquisitor (Faceless Void)	2.5$	17	-----
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt (Ursa)	2.5$	16	-----
Crimson Dawn (Phoenix)	2.5$	18	-----
Fogotten Station (Terrorblade)	2.5$	19	-----
Dirge Amplifier (Undying)	2.5$	17	-----
Champion of the Fire Lotus (Monkey King)	2.5$	16	-----
Deathstitch Shaman (Witch Doctor)	2.5$	18	-----
Spoils of the Shadowveil (Spectre)	5$	10	-----
Scarlet Subversion (Riki)	5$	8	-----
Whippersnapper (Snapfire)	8$	8	-----
Shadowleaf Insurgent (Hoodwink)	10$	4	-----
Starlorn Adjudicator (Dawnbreaker)	10$	5	-----
Blue Horizons (Marci - Rare)	10$	11	-----
Angel of Vex (Invoker - Rare)	15$	4	-----
Dark Behemoth (Primal Beast - Very Rare)	25$	4	-----

SteamRep

A family member is looking for a Cantonese speaking family doctor who is accepting new patients. This is a long shot but does anybody know or someone who is located in Toronto or North York? If contact information is available that would be great.

It’s a beautiful day here and I wanted to spread some positivity.
A few days ago, after a day of deadnaming and micro aggressions, I decided to fully own being an out queer transfem woman, and be unapologetic about it. To fully show up as myself in all situations. To make eye contact, to dress as I like, to politely insist on my pronouns and name and to call out unacceptable behavior. To publicly identify as QTW professionally and personally.
I recognize I have enormous privilege in being able to do so. I am accepted by most of my family, I can afford most of the costs, my job has embraced my transition openly, I have friends and allies, and I am physically safe.
The other day, I met a young and very vulnerable racialized transmasc man. Rejected by his family, precariously housed, poor, with a history of trauma.
I did my job for him as I would for any other person. Nothing special. The dignity of treating somebody as a person, not more, nor less.
Afterward, he told me how glad he was to meet someone in a position of some power who was openly and visibly trans. That’s it, really.
But it meant so much to me. First, that I got to use my privilege for good. And second, that the decision to be out and visible made a difference to someone else, not just to me.
Visibility matters and is deeply consequential to others in ways we may never know. We do not have a moral obligation to be out. Everyone’s circumstances are different. I am very, very fortunate to mine.
But being there, just being, and being known, in any capacity, is an act of goodness.

--- 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.

Poorly Hidden
First Prev
There were very few things to do in quarantine.
Alex had spent his last two days sleeping as much as he could. There were six movies available to watch and nothing else. His techs steadfastly refused to tell him anything about the outside world, which was standard procedure. Nothing that would get him riled up, as Shawn put it. That sort of riled him up.
Aside from sleeping, the only thing that broke the monotony was meal time. First he would get scanned and then one of the nurses would drop off clean scrubs and a steaming hot bowl of nutragel in the small airlock. In the morning it tasted sort of like a cinnamon roll. The lunch nutragel bore some resemblance to chicken soup and the dinner nutragel was similar to but distinct from beef stew.
Nutragel was easily more dissatisfying to eat than anything else a dispenser produced. It provided everything he needed to live and made things easier on the scanner, but lacked any other redeemable features. Freedom could not come soon enough.
So he thought.
Being released was nearly as strange as being brought in. Shawn gave him his marching orders - There’d be a representative from the Civilian Pilot Program waiting for Carbon and him once he was out of the secure portion of the station, and said his goodbye before turning the airlock on. It cycled automatically around him and he walked from the quarantine room down the hall to the patient elevator. Even before the doors opened, he could smell the cleaning chemicals. A minute later his eyes were stinging and his scrubs smelled like something that would denature a prion, but it did deposit him in front of the first human he’d seen since the day he arrived.
The nurse behind the counter was not operating under the same conditions, and seemed pretty bored by his arrival. He pushed a bag with Alex’s name on it across the stainless countertop, and pointed out where the changing rooms were before turning back to his terminal.
There was technically a shower in the quarantine room. One of those dry ones that used ultrasonic waves and a vacuum. It allegedly did the job. The changing room had a real shower, towels, and the most generic little bottles of soap and shampoo Alex had ever seen. Even if everything was a little threadbare, this still felt like luxury. It had been longer than he cared to think about since he’d gotten the chance to take an actual water shower, and he was not going to skip the opportunity to wash the stink of chemicals off his body.
Once again clean, though looking a bit scruffy from nine days of stubble growth, he donned the same clothing that he had been brought in with, now so thoroughly decontaminated it appeared a shade lighter than it had started, and immediately sat down in the waiting room.
Carbon arrived about fifteen minutes later, slightly damp and visibly exhausted. While she did perk up when she spotted him, a brief flash of a smile tamped down as she glanced over at the attendant operating the elevator to the rest of the station. Alex followed suit, keeping it professional as he requested access to leave quarantine.
Once alone in the elevator, a brief look of longing may have been exchanged.
“Oh. It’s real.” Alex murmured to himself as the doors opened to the main deck of the small station, the smell of cooked food wafting through the air as they stepped out. They had arrived just in time for breakfast. He inhaled deeply. “I think they have bacon. And pancakes? You’ll like both of those, I’m sure.”
“Pilot Alex Sorenson? Shipmaster Tshalen?” An older man wearing a button down shirt and nice slacks stepped forward before Alex could determine which way to go to get to the food. He smiled affably, extending his hand. “Dae Yeong, I’m with the CPP.”
Alex barely kept his shit together and shook his hand. “Oh yes. We were told you’d be here.” He didn’t manage to keep the disappointment out of his voice, though.
Dae gave Carbon a short bow, which she returned, and he handed them both new CPP access badges. They were clearly labeled PILOT and ENGINEER respectively, with photos. Alex grinning like he’d won the lotto, Carbon straight-faced and looking a bit like she was getting a mugshot taken. It wasn’t necessary on the quarantine station, but they’d be needing them for access in secure areas elsewhere. “If you both don’t mind, we should be departing for McFadden station immediately. Traffic is already bad and there’s a lot to do.”
Alex did mind, but he kept it to himself. It was a short walk to the hanger, and they quickly found themselves wedged into the back of a four seat transport. It was an inexpensive but serviceable civilian model with CPP branding all over the outside. Mr. Yeong kept his hands on the controls even though the short jaunt to McFadden station was likely to be entirely autopilot.
“I still cannot believe it is so large.” Carbon leaned over as far as her seat’s safety harness would allow, whispering to him as the station grew on the main screen, already lined up with one of the bays on the docking arc. Parking lot speeds were strictly enforced this close to a structure, they were still 30 minutes from actually coming aboard.
“Third largest in system, twelfth in all of human space.” Alex suppressed the urge to make that joke, keeping his voice down too. It was probably pointless, Mr. Yeong was just over an arms length away in the pilot’s seat and could easily hear them. It still felt sort of conspiratorial, almost fun.
“I am aware of that, but I do not know why.” She shifted back into her seat properly, ears twitching as they pressed into the headrest. Carbon had curled her antenna over her shoulder, preferring that to crushing them between her back and the seat that had not been made with that particular biological difference in mind.
He shrugged. “They had to make room for all the old spacecraft in the Exploration museum.”
Carbon straightened up and looked at him, perplexed. “A museum?”
“Uh huh.”
“You put a museum in space? In a station that some of your most advanced spacecraft are based from?” Carbon was starting to get that tone that said she may be offended by the very idea being discussed.
“Not me personally, no. But it does seem like a reasonable place for it.”
“I did not mean you specifically, Alex. I meant as a species. Space is not a reasonable place for a museum, no matter the subject.” She was adamant about that, a finger
“Space is the perfect place for a museum about space exploration. That was the jingle they used during construction.” He cleared his throat and sang, off key. “Space... is the per-fect place.”
Mr. Yeong chuckled quietly.
Carbon’s jaw set and she huffed with frustration. “Your species is so cavalier about so many things. Space is dangerous, it is no place to leave a collection of historical knowledge.”
Alex looked out of his window with a snort, watching a row of single-container cargo drones waiting for access queuing up as he dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand. “Oh yeah, nothing of value has ever been destroyed on a planet before, right?”
The back seat got very quiet.
When he looked back, Carbon was staring down at balled fists with deadly intensity, normally blue lips pressed so tight they were pale.
He figured out where he had fucked up a moment later. “I didn’t mean- Not like, I... Hell.”
Her words came slowly, precise. “I know you did not mean it that way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. The statement is true, disaster or not. A planet can still oversee untold destruction.” She closed her eyes and exhaled, her body relaxing. ”It has been a difficult week.”
He had forgotten that isolation is hard on the Tsla’o. It had been annoying for him, but being nearly completely cut off from interaction in what was ultimately an alien prison cell must have weighed heavily on her. “Is it alright if I feel bad?”
Carbon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly again, watching her hands uncurl and fingers stretch as she recentered herself. She straightened back up, ears unfolding from being pressed tight against her head before she glanced over at him with a brief nod. A thin, wry smile slowly working across her short muzzle. “That is acceptable as long as you are done by the time we arrive.”
Alex laughed just as Mr. Yeong looked back at them over his shoulder. The older man gave them a bemused smile. “Has anyone told you two that you sound like a married couple?”
That shut both of them up for the rest of the trip.
 
First Prev
*****
That's right, I wrote the P word.
They're really not good at keeping things under wraps.

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15
Memory transcription subject: Salvek, Human-Venlil Exchange Program Candidate
Date [standardized human time]: September 3, 2136
I hate banks. Or, more specifically, I hate the United Banking Service. I've never really used another bank, on account of my mother signing me up for a twenty-five year family plan for a cash bonus that never came (it was twenty-five thousand credits, I can't really blame her) but that just makes me hate this one more.
The fat, lazy Gojid on the other side of the bulletproof glass teller window tapped away at his keyboard in order to process my application for a loan. Above him I saw the UBS logo and motto: "Speed, Security, Success." All a load of vyalpic if you ask me. (I will die of old age before this loan ever comes through)
"Sooooo....." Thank the Herd, he was finally talking. I was worried his fat ass had a heart attack and died with how little moving he did. "Your credit score issss....." Oh Protector, just spit it out already! Now I get why predators have such violent impulses. (What if I can't control mine? What if we're worse than them?)
Brahk my intrusive thoughts. How does Jack control his so well? I resolved to ask him when my loan got processed, assuming neither of us starved to death in the meantime. (Speed, security, and success this dick)
"Seven hundred and ninety." Oh, thank Inatala. (Inatala hates predators, can I still say that with one as my best friend?) Venlil credit scores go from zero, being applied to people who took out million-credit loans and blew all the money on gear to unsuccessfully rob the bank they got the loan from, to one thousand, which went to those who panicked over a two credit overdrawn balance and had a heart attack whenever they were a week away from a loan's due date and it still wasn't paid.
Seven hundred and ninety was above average, since my parents had always taught me to manage my finances well, but only slightly above average since Jack's presence and the constant racism that came with it were more trouble than the government stipend was worth. (I would never send him back home, he's better to me than many Venlil)
I thanked the Gojid with sincerity that I meant none of, and asked "Is my loan approved?"
He told me "Yes, it's been approved at..." Oh Herd, not this again. How do his coworkers interact with him? "5% quarterly interest." That's not even bad. (Five percent might be a robbery, but for UBS banks it's decent) "You'll have six months to pay it off in full... or the interest will double every quarter." (Somebody should disband the United Banking Service)
I agreed to these terms, since they were the best I was going to get, and left without another word. Eight thousand Federation credits had just entered my bank account, making me a very rich man. (Not really, but it was the most I'd ever had)
Jack was sitting on a bench outside the UBS building tapping away on his pad. A more skittish Venlil would have assumed that he was plotting something or bathing in the virtual blood of his prey, but I knew better than to assume the game he was playing was predatory.
Never mind, it was absolutely predatory. An army of huge winged beasts descended on what looked like a walled fortress in the middle of a hellish landscape, and lightning rained down from the skies at Jack's command to pick apart what I assumed were strategic defenses. (He might not actively do predator things, but he is excellent at them)
Within thirty ticks of the timer at the top of the screen, the beasts were above the fortress raining destruction on whatever they pleased. A few soldiers ran out of a building near the center of the base, attacking Jack's army, but they were quickly dealt with. Without the defenses that were destroyed by what I assumed was orbital bombardment, the base was helpless against the conquering predator.
A chill ran down my spine as I saw the defenders being slaughtered. A Venlil general or admiral (there were actually surprisingly many when compared to the rest of our military) could accomplish such results but those types of Venlil were very few and often had mild cases of Predator Disease. (That needs a new name. Maybe Arxur disease? No, too scary)
Seeing an average human, whose only military experience was four years serving on a war boat (They still have a boat military? Herd, those predators love their weapons) complete what many Federation officers would struggle to do terrified me for good reason.
We Venlil had treated Humans like they weren't even sapient, just dirt or pests that we had to tolerate. And the rest of the Federation treated them even worse. What if they decided peace wasn't worth it? What if, in our fear of the Arxur, we unleashed a threat worse than them? (Could Jack spare me from a human cattle farm? I'd have to kill myself if he couldn't)
Venlil Prime would be the first world to fall. We'd all die of our own hubris.
"Hell!" Jack turned his pad down so I couldn't look over his shoulder anymore. "I'm sorry you had to see that." Why did he have to be sorry for everything? The way my species, my Federation, treated him and his kind always angered me.
I told him "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault your hobbies are so... you know." I didn't like using the word "predator". At least, not to describe humans. Jack was cool with me using it as long as it wasn't in a derogatory way, (since they are predators) but it just reminded me of how unjustly he and his kind were treated.
Jack clearly didn't listen when I said not to be sorry because he kept apologizing. "Yeah, but it's not your fault you're so damn skittish either. And it is my fault I played Clash... I mean the game here. I should've known better." Herd, why did he never stand up for himself? The exterminators can't be that bad!
I explained to him "You don't have to apologize, Jack. You never meant to scare anyone." and before he could keep apologizing (I know him too well to think he wouldn't) I changed the subject. "We have money at our disposal now, we can buy something from the Mellow Firefruit on our way to the train station."
Jack agreed, but he was worried about "spacists". (Oh Herd, has he lost it?) I asked "What in the Arbor is a spacist?" In case you don't know, the Arbor is where followers of the Great Protector go when they die. It's a huge forest with plentiful and delicious food, and no predators.
When I finally mustered up my courage and told Jack that the god I worship hates his kind, I was half expecting to die horribly by his unusually short claws or extremely dull fangs. (Are they so peaceful because of their lack of natural weapons, or do they lack natural weapons because they're so peaceful? I should ask Jack that)
Instead, he shrugged it off and told me that, apparently, "Jesus still solos." When I explained the Arbor at his request, he had the brilliant idea to convert to worshiping the Protector and then kill himself in order to appear there and scare the afterlife out of everyone else. He quickly and profusely explained that he would never actually do that, but Inatala would never have accepted him anyway so it didn't matter.
Anyway, back to real life. Jack told me "Oh, spacists? They're just space racists except I mushed the two words together. It's a play on words type thing." The words 'space' and 'racists' do not fit together in Venlilese, and frankly, I was astounded that the translator even gave me the concept. (I bought it second-hand from a Mazic who stepped on it one too many times, but it was incredibly cheap)
I told him "If you told anyone but me that the words 'space' and 'racists' fit together then you would be screened for Predator Disease." and he covered his mouth in the gesture that was universally recognized as a prey-safe predator's laugh.
"God, sometimes I forget you guys have a sense of humor."
Just then, I started walking. I was tired, like any Venlil would be after a long walk, a long wait in line and the anticipation of another long walk, but the thought of the sweet, delicious food at the Mellow Firefruit kept me going. (I have to get Jack some, he's been underrating Venlil cuisine ever since he first tried my subpar cooking)
Jack fell in behind me, then he moved up to be at my side as an equal. Us Venlil didn't care where you were in line, but I guess predators have different priorities. (Is thinking 'predator' as bad as saying it? That's a dilemma I need to deal with later) I asked him "How come your claws and... uh... those pointy front teeth are so small?" (I don't like talking about fangs, sue me)
Jack turned to look at me, jerked his head away a little, then he turned and looked at me again. He responded to my question, realized I was a Venlil, and realized I was Salvek, in that order. I was good at reading people. He told me "First of all, they're called nails and canines. And second of all, we've never needed claws so they never evolved." A predator never needing claws was absurd! When would Jack learn that he didn't have to lie to me?
I interrupted my friend's explanation by telling him "Jack, I'm not going to run away or faint just because you tell me that ancient humans hunted. I get it. Just tell me how you lost your claws."
Jack sighed. He didn't sigh a lot, only when he was driven to the end of his very long rope (Turns out that's a human idiom too! Who knew?) by someone else's, usually my, stupidity. "Salvek, we didn't lose them. We evolved to eat fruit from trees, and by the time we were eating meat we had at least developed the art of throwing rocks at things. There was never any need for them, and they never appeared as a result. Satisfied?"
Developing weapons early on did make sense for humans, given how good they are at combat, so I nodded. It wasn't really a Venlil expression, but those in the exchange program had learned everything they could about their human partners. (I'm saying human instead of predator! Progress!) "Yeah, that makes sense."
Jack continued, explaining about human 'canines'. We just called them fangs. "Canines were originally fangs, yeah," He lowered his voice when he mentioned fangs. "but when we made fire around a million years ago, we didn't need them anymore and so they got smaller. I'm no expert, but that's what I know."
That actually made sense. I knew the Arxur didn't eat cooked meat, since I found uncensored raid footage on an internet rabbit hole when I was fourteen, (I peed myself and had nightmares for weeks but no one has to know) but I always assumed humans shared that trait. Maybe I was just like the rest with how I kept comparing humans and Arxur. (Why am I capitalizing one and not the other? No one knows!)
Maybe I was just like the rest. Maybe one day I would lose control and run from Jack, or freeze up, or worse, call the exterminators, and then it would all be over. I could never live with myself if my damned instincts got him to hate me or got him killed. I've only known him for a few weeks, but when we met we just clicked.
It's still weird to me how the concept of platonic soul mates doesn't exist yet.
"That's it, right?" Jack asked while pointing to a red restaurant a few blocks away. That was it. I was about to eat good.
"Yeah, that's it. Come on, let's go!" I ran to the Mellow Firefruit faster than most humans could, on account of my species being designed for sprints, (or we're just better than them) and Jack tagged along in a brisk walk. He was probably trying not to be mistaken for chasing me and shot dead, or worse, set on fire.
I know most predators don't feel pain, but humans do. Why in the Herd didn't exterminators at least have the decency to kill them humanely?
A couple seconds later, Jack was waiting outside the restaurant and looking at his pad while I waited in line (In case nobody noticed yet, I hate lines) for my meal. Jack's meal too, since nobody wanted their entire customer base to leave the second they began serving humans. At least, that was the official reason. The real reason is that most Venlil are still racist.
After an agonizing minute and a half of waiting, since the Mellow Firefruit was a popular restaurant (for good reason, as Jack was about to discover) I finally got to order my food. "I'll have two yaccay salads, and two red fires please." Jack only asked for a salad, but red fires were excellent drinks and if he said no to one I would drink both. I was being smart with this.
"Okay, that will be 43.8 credits." All right, maybe not so smart.
I asked "44 credits?" in shock as my mind struggled to wrap itself around this sudden increase in price. The last time I got a meal here it was only twenty credits.
The cashier, a large green Krakotl who was a tiny bit taller than me, explained "Inflation. Those damn predators brahked up the economy and now we have this." Putting hate on my friend Jack wasn't something I would normally tolerate, but my father had always said it wasn't wise to anger the people who made your food. I just swiped my card across his card reader and stayed silent, like dad would have wanted.
"If you ask me, Sovlin was right."
Was my father really that wise? He probably didn't know what he was talking about.
"How can you say that? No one deserves what he did to Marcel." I shot back, managing to contain the venom in my voice.
The cashier retorted "No one sapient. But those... things that Tarva's dumb ass let roam our planet don't qualify." with barely-contained hatred. (Thank the Herd Jack doesn't have to hear this)
Before I could respond, however, the manager came with my order and reprimanded his subordinate. "Don't get into politics with customers, and certainly don't spit those lies in my establishment!" Maybe the Great Protector was still looking out for me.
The manager handed me my items and apologized profusely. "My cashier here is still new to Venlil Prime. He hasn't gotten used to the... the new arrivals yet. Herd, even I struggle sometimes, and I'm in the exchange program!"
I thanked him, explaining that it wasn't a big deal but the cashier should still be reprimanded, and brought our food to Jack. He wasn't playing that predatory (it was predatory, but predatory didn't necessarily mean bad) game again, but he was scrolling through his account on UHerd.
UHerd was the Venlil's main addition to the galaxy at large, being a huge social media service that Jack had described as "just like Instagram." when he first heard of it. Bleat was another large website just like it, but it was much less known than UHerd. (Fun fact: the U stands for Internet! Maybe not in English, but in Venlilese it does)
Jack never posted much, but he had me and a few mutual friends from the Program followed and he liked hearing what we were doing. I plopped down next to him and handed him his food. "Here, I got you something."
He picked up the salad nonchalantly, but when I handed him his drink, he inspected it curiously. "What in God's name is this doohickey?" He asked.
I told him "Try it, it's a red fire. It's good." and he did try it.
Jack exclaimed "Holy christ!" and the look in his eyes was comparable to what I saw the first time I agreed to being pet. "This is heavenly!" He guzzled the spicy fluid with hunger that would have terrified me if I hadn't seen him devour meals a dozen times before, (He'll eat me next I have to run I have to run run run run for it [oh, shut up already]) stopping only to praise its taste. "This is like the nectar of the gods!" Then "Shit, this is what I was missing out on? We gotta desegregate the restaurants immediately!"
That got him thinking, and I could almost see the money-making gears turning in his head. "You know, Salvek, what if we opened up a restaurant? You could be the official owner and waiter, I could cook some delectable earth recipes, and as long as no one saw me, we could make bank!"
I didn't like that idea. It sounded a lot like a recipe for disaster. I told him "Nah, it would be too hard for just the two of us. And besides, we already have the clothing business." Selling shirts online is a lot easier and cheaper than owning a restaurant.
Since Jack asked me a question, I figured I could ask one too. "Hey Jack, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
Jack didn't care, and he told me as much, so I continued. "How do you keep yourself in check all the time? How can humans control themselves so well?"
He paused for a bit, causing me to involuntarily panic, (he's looking for weak points, or exterminators, he's going to snap my neck for this) but I quelled these thoughts and there was no visible change in my expression. Finally, the colossal man spoke. "How do you do it?"
"W-what?" I stammered, and he picked up a leaf that was blowing in the wind before cherishing his last sip of the red fire.
He held the leaf up to my mouth. "How can you resist the temptation to just chow down on every plant you see? It must be exhausting." I took a brief nibble of the plant, despite it being completely unappetizing in nature, and he told me "See? Your herbivore instincts made you eat it! How can you keep them in check all the time?"
I wasn't a fool, not by any means. I knew he was mocking me. But the thought of a predator not having any predatory instincts was an entirely unheard of concept, bordering on heresy for some. It would probably have gotten me screened for Predator Disease if I spoke of it aloud, but I still spoke of it aloud. (There were no exterminators, I was fine) "So you're trying to say that you don't have predatory instincts? But what about the drive to hunt?"
Jack sighed again, muttering "So smart, but so damn stupid." in a low tone before he explained to me exactly what I wanted to know. "We have the need to eat meat in the same way you need to eat plants, because if we don't do it we die." That made sense. "But just like you don't have a primal urge to devour all the greenery in sight, we don't have any instincts of our own. Make sense?"
It did, but I was still struggling to wrap my head around it, so I just nodded and finished off my salad. Jack had apparently forgot about his salad, as he hadn't touched it. He opened the plastic carton, looked at its contents weirdly, and took a bite.
"This is mid." He told me, point blank. "Like, I don't mean to offend anyone, but it is mid. I'm not even hungry."
I was mildly offended, but there wasn't much I could change about his honest opinion, so I just told him "I thought it was good." and left it at that.
Jack slid his salad over to me (I love these things like my only son) and offered "You can have it. I don't want it." I would have accepted, but I wasn't hungry. Jack didn't really mind, so he threw his salad out and told me "Then we should get going. We have only [1/8 of a claw], I mean... 1/8 of a claw before our train leaves."
I agreed, getting up and walking to the train station, and Jack followed. I was well rested by then, so the brief walk was easy. Jack... Jack was Jack. He never got tired.
We actually made a pretty good pace to the train station, and within 1/16 of a claw we were on our way back to my home district and my third-floor apartment. I had money to my name, I had a huge predator (Human! Damn, those words get mixed up too much) friend, and he and I were about to make a truckload of credits. Life was good.
Previous Next comes when I say it comes

So I got my results back from my biopsy on Thursday of last week, and the diagnosis was “Fibroepithelial polyp with verrucoid features”, but then one of the doctors assistants wrote at the bottom “consistent with HPV/genital warts”. So I spent the last 4 days trying to accept this diagnosis and dealing with that mentally and emotionally. It was pretty tough.
So when I went in today for my follow up from my procedure, my doctor goes “are you just as confused as I am?” Because the diagnosis is not technically a genital wart, but for some reason someone wrote in there that it’s consistent with HPV/GW. After a lengthy discussion and having her educate me, she said based on the results, I don’t have warts/GW, but it was a Fibroepithelial polyp with verrucoid features just as the report said. She said they would have been able to see if it was HPV or not, and would have/should have written that down if it was the case.
The pathologist did leave a comment down below saying “Condyloma cannot be entirely excluded.” Which to me is kind of BS because Condyloma are warts, and fibroepithelial polyps are not. They’re two different things. So, kind of odd they would include that as a comment.
Not going to get too thrilled about this just yet, and I’m going to keep an eye on everything down there going forward, but still I can’t lie to say I’m at least relieved a little.

Hi everyone, i wanted to hear some opinions on what to do exactly..
So since December my left eye has been annoying me SO much, i can’t really 100% compare it to anything but a few things that feel similar are like putting an oil on ur face and getting it into ur eye or a contact lens that’s not the right size. So it feels kind of blurry and i see double sometimes, but the thing is some days are not as bad as other days. It’s not constantly the same kind of blurryness. I don’t know if it makes sense.
My symptoms actually happened a week after i had covid so my logic was oh it’s probably a side effect of covid so i’ll probably wait until it goes away..until March. I couldn’t study normally anymore so that’s when i made an appointment with my GP. He gave a referral to an eye clinic and they gave me an appointment 6 weeks later.
They did a few tests and only told me i had dry eyes and to use Terra-Cortril for my complaints for 2 weeks which i did. My eye was doing really well and my symptoms were 100% gone.
Then i had my check in a month later, on May 23rd, and literally a day after on May 24rd my symptoms are slowly starting again. I really don’t and can’t wait with these symptoms again for 6 weeks :/ So my question is can i just start with Terra-Cortril again? Cuz my symptoms went away when i used it. I will try to make an appointment asap but i have no idea when they will have space for me
edit: forget to add this, but at my check in the doctor gave me: Zaditen eyedrops for my hay fever. And i’ve been using Hylan eyedrops for 5 years now.

My son(4.5) was diagnosed with autism on Saturday, and the doctor described it as a “high mild”. I don’t have the report to see what kind of support he’ll be needing yet, but was told speech therapy will be one of them. He gave me a form with ABA therapists in my area, and I have reached out to one hoping to hear back after the holiday. Is ABA like school? Will he be doing that instead of preschool? Is it something that lasts all day like preschool? Does this also affect my Medicaid and food stamps? (Do I need to tell mdhhs this information?[in Michigan])