Urgent care 4th street santa ana

Undiagnosed this doesn’t make sense to me
I am 28 F and have never experienced anything like this. At the end of April my kids and I got Hand foot and mouth virus. We all felt better within a week but then all of the sudden I woke up with peeling painful swollen hands and a fever that seemed to come and go. Then more pain in my wrist, knees, feet, shoulders. I also have jaw pain like tmj and wake up with my mouth so dry I have to guzzle water.
I went to an urgent care and they tested me for a couple of things. My AST level was elevated at 50 and I tested positive for ANA. They gave me a referral to see a rheumatologist and meloxicam.
While I waited to for my appointment I started the meloxicam and noticed it really wasn’t doing much. I also realized my resting heart rate was staying between 100-120. Then I noticed a pink splotchy rash on my forearms and cheeks. Later the rash appeared on my thighs as well. The rash seemed to come and go at first but now it’s sticking around from what I can tell, almost looks like hives but it’s not raised?
I finally saw the rheumatologist and told him I’m not taking meloxicam anymore it doesn’t nothing for me. So he decided to run blood work and gave me 10mg prednisone to take in the mean time.
This time my blood work showed my AST and ALT numbers around 150/200. I also have a high CRP <4.8. But he says I tested negative for ANA? The ANA result was <20 and the rheumatoid factor was <20. Yes negative but aren’t they right on the borderline of being positive or is that not how it works?
He says this reduces my chances of it being an autoimmune disease. I told him I’m still in a lot of pain it’s hard to bend my knees and hurts to walk, my hands hurt so bad in the middle of the night I started taking Tylenol arthritis before bed and prednisone around 4am.. maybe it helps a little but I can’t function. I lay around all day, I can’t do the dishes without my heart rate jumping to 140. I also notice if I take a deep breath it kind of hurts and I have to cough a little.
Im so lost and I feel defeated. Im a stay at home mom and I have been such a shitty mom, my 4 year old ask every morning "are you feeling better mommy?" and it hurts me to say no, but I tell her eventually I will.
My heart rate is scaring me, should I just go to the ER to have it checked?
Has anyone else experienced this or something similar?? I feel so alone in this.

I am 28 F and have never experienced anything like this. At the end of April my kids and I got Hand foot and mouth virus. We all felt better within a week but then all of the sudden I woke up with peeling painful swollen hands and a fever that seemed to come and go. Then more pain in my wrist, knees, feet, shoulders. I also have jaw pain like tmj and wake up with my mouth so dry I have to guzzle water.
I went to an urgent care and they tested me for a couple of things. My AST level was elevated at 50 and I tested positive for ANA. They gave me a referral to see a rheumatologist and meloxicam.
While I waited to for my appointment I started the meloxicam and noticed it really wasn’t doing much. I also realized my resting heart rate was staying between 100-120. Then I noticed a pink splotchy rash on my forearms and cheeks. Later the rash appeared on my thighs as well. The rash seemed to come and go at first but now it’s sticking around from what I can tell, almost looks like hives but it’s not raised?
I finally saw the rheumatologist and told him I’m not taking meloxicam anymore it doesn’t nothing for me. So he decided to run blood work and gave me 10mg prednisone to take in the mean time.
This time my blood work showed my AST and ALT numbers around 150/200. I also have a high CRP <4.8. But he says I tested negative for ANA? The ANA result was <20 and the rheumatoid factor was <20. Yes negative but aren’t they right on the borderline of being positive or is that not how it works?
He says this reduces my chances of it being an autoimmune disease. I told him I’m still in a lot of pain it’s hard to bend my knees and hurts to walk, my hands hurt so bad in the middle of the night I started taking Tylenol arthritis before bed and prednisone around 4am.. maybe it helps a little but I can’t function. I lay around all day, I can’t do the dishes without my heart rate jumping to 140. I also notice if I take a deep breath it kind of hurts and I have to cough a little.
Im so lost and I feel defeated. Im a stay at home mom and I have been such a shitty mom, my 4 year old ask every morning "are you feeling better mommy?" and it hurts me to say no, but I tell her eventually I will.
My heart rate is scaring me, should I just go to the ER to have it checked?
Has anyone else experienced this or something similar?? I feel so alone in this.

Hey guys, wanted to share an experience I had a few nights ago that still got me laughing and maybe feeling a little naughty today.
I recently got a hold of a 2017 ducati scrambler cafe. Not super fast but respectable 3.8 second 0-60. A little relevant to the story.
Anyway I was riding home here in Orange County, CA around 10p last Friday night and I hit a little traffic so I filter through to the front as is the custom here. I get to the front and there is an old van to my right and a 2004-06 Pontiac GTO to my left which I am yet unaware of. Light turns green and normally bikes here just take off much faster than cars so we don’t inconvenience them in anyway. But tonight this guy wants to race or maybe is annoyed I am close to his car riding the white divider of his lane. So he revs up and takes off full power even before the light hits green. I am a little taken aback which tends to happen when a car revs up and violently accelerates while your about 12 inches away from their front tires.
I regain my composure and accelerate as normal reaching the speed limit. I go a block and the pontiac is now at the next red light. There is 4 lanes. Another bike (sportster maybe?) pulls up to the 4th lane and the pontiac is on the 2nd. 3rd is open so naturally I pull up there. Now I normally avoid any sort of street racing or upstaging but I feel insulted and threatened even. And I got this sweet high revving ducati so I figure I should put him in his place.
Light goes green and I drop the clutch and rev it all the way through 1st going about 45 when I change to second. Obviously not really a competition but still feels good. I hit maybe 60 in second gear but immediately upshift and go down to maybe 50. I have had a few speeding tickets when i was younger and learned my lesson. As expected the pontiac zooms past me on the right side and the sportster on the left trailing the pontiac. Im feeling good with the outcome already but then as they get about 8 car lengths ahead:
A black and white Explorer scrambles out of a dark parking lot and struggles for grip behind the pontiac. It’s so sudden the sportster almost rear ends the cop. Catching up to the pontiac the explorer rides his bumper for like 30 seconds probably running his plate and then finally lights him up. Me and the sportster ride in our best behavior out of there. I would hate to be that guy.
Me and the sporster catch up at the next red and its all smiles and wide eye expressions as we are relieved it wasnt us getting an expensive ticket. I say take care and take off home.
I am still trying to figure out if I should feel guilty like I baited him or if it was instant justice for scaring me with his scary v8 car lol.
Anyway sorry for the long post but this has never happened to me and wanted to share with peeps that could understand as moto enthusiasts.

For context, I am a Catholic that got invited to Crossroads Church, a born-again ministry, back then in July 2022 here in Cebu when I was having a difficult phase in life. I was invited from a reformed schoolmate who used to do drugs, alcohol, not attend classes, and bully others. He is a pleasant person now and his transformation made him closer to God.
I was paired with a Cell Leader who is a good man at heart. His wife is a pastora in that ministry as well. I know that my Cell Leader is a good man with the best intentions.
By October, I started thinking twice about it because the church started asking many things from me such as my time, tithing, joining Life Class, and joining Life Coaching. They really plan to convert young people to become born-again Christians. In fact, many of the youth that join Crossroads are Catholics that are either curious or having a difficult phase in life. It got toxic to the point wherein the diehard pastors would demand we devote our Fridays to our respective cell groups, Saturdays for the youth praise worship, and Sunday for the Sunday service. I couldn't do this because I already have pre-planned some of my what limited weekends there were in my calendar.
Around November 2022, one of the newest members of our cell group is a known diehard. His story is that he used to be a former sacristan of a Catholic Church. He later left the Catholic church because of its corruption, worship of Saints and Mary, and the fact "Why does one get absolved of sin when he/she sacrifices?". He even stated that he got heartbroken because he allegedly broke up with his girlfriend. He was left to wonder until one person came to him and presented him a phamplet for Gravity, the youth ministry of Crossroads Church. That's when he joined Crossroads.
He's a nasty individual and he's proud to say that he is a diehard Christian who doesn't care being called out as a "weirdo" or an "extremist". At one point, he called out two of my cell groupmates (both being former Catholics) for doing un-Christian things.
First guy he called out, a waiter for a restaurant:

• The waiter for a restaurant is a native of Bantayan Island and during his Christmas leave, he joined with his childhood neighbors/barkada/friends in the annual Simbang Gabi. He did not join the Simbag Gabi per se. Rather, he just sat outside the iconic church in Santa Fe out of respect for his friends. When the diehard got a wind of this, he called him out, saying what he did was a sin because you cannot serve two churches at the time.

The second guy he called out is a banker:

• The banker attended a fiesta in his workmate's house because he was invited into it. He's a former Catholic that joined Crossroads/Gravity. He didn't attend the procession of the fiesta, knowing that it's against the Born-Again church to worship/honopraise Saints. When diehard cell groupmate got a hold of this, he promptly called him out. The banker said he was only there for the food and the gathering (not the procession), but the diehard guy said by merely celebrating the fiesta through food, the banker still sinned because the celebrating it even without the procession is honoring a saint, which is a sin because "thou shall not have false Gods before Me."

This asshole went so far as to say all religions are false. That Catholicism is a cult, Islam is a cult, Buddhism is a cult, etc.
He also tried to convince me NOT to celebrate the ultimate Sinulog comeback last January because it is "parading an image". Even though my purpose for celebrating Sinulog was to meet friends who may not be around by 2024 as many of them will leave the country. Keep note Cebu has been waiting for the return of Sinulog since 2020 due to the pandemic and on the personal note, six years for me because (Sinulog 2017-2020 wasn't as fun because there was a no-street party rule. I didn't go to Sinulog 2018 because I was in medical school, and there was no Sinulog in 2021 and 2022 because of the pandemic). There are diehard Christians from other born-again ministries every Sinulog that do militant street preaching in the middle of the fun festival. Often times, their preaching comes out as harassment to the festival goers. For him and the diehards, anything fun = earthly/worldly = sin because it is not "honoring Christ". In other words, even if you are in Sinulog to experience Cebu's culture or just to enjoy a street party, you are committing a sin.
I was roped into Life Class last February since they timed it onto the Friday cell group meeting. I didn't even consent to it. The Life Class is a 10-week session with one-class held every Friday. Looking at the calendar, the Life Class would have ended in the middle week of May. I already had planned out my vacations for the Summer of 2023.
I was then roped into joining the Encounter, wherein we are supposed to meet Jesus and experience the Holy Spirit. The Encounter took one whole weekend that spanned from 8 am to 5 pm (but we got late, because on the first day it ended at 8 pm). The fee was also 500 pesos. During the Encounter, they asked as thithing four times and I only have enough for myself since my salary is very menial. One of the diehard pastors there were asking us to fully devote our lives to this Church and invite two people every Sunday so that there will be more disciples of Christ. The diehard pastor went so far to say to decline all fun things and outings such as if you have a relative from abroad coming and wants to go to the beach on Sunday, we will have to decline because our priority is with the Church itself. We then had the typical Encounter activities. We also had things that are forbidden to do in their eyes such as celebrating festivals (Sinulog being their primary target), going to concerts, listening to rock and pop music, partying, pornography, gambling, drugs, alcoholism, practicising witchcraft, and the like. While I agree gambling, drugs, pornography, and witchcraft are bad, it's way too much to restrict people from watching concerts or going to street parties.
After the Encounter last March, I just ran away and never returned. I essentially ghosted them but later explained to them I was leaving the church. The cell leader was saddened because he's a good man and he really wanted me to be a disciple. We even finished Change 12 between October to December 2022. In other words, the cell leader was beginning to invest in me. I just couldn't stand the toxicity and the diehard fundamentalists in that ministry; my cell leader not one of them (he is a cool guy).
Anyways that's my take. Feel free to comment.
Apologies for the long post. Had to let this out.

The way I see it, if you don’t notice that I exist, then I’m doing my job correctly.
​
My name is Ben McFarlane and I work as a municipal sewer inspector in the town of Tevam Sound, Ontario. It's not the most glamorous job, but hey, somebody's got to do it and it puts food on the table.
​
You'd probably think that working as a sewer inspector isn't that exciting… and yeah, for the most part you'd be right. Most of the time, all I'm doing is checking the pipes for damage. Unless there’s a reason for me to investigate a certain area, most of what I do is routine inspection, which helps ensure that the sewers remain in good working order. Trust me, nobody wants to see what happens when they aren’t.
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Thankfully, a lot of what I do can be done without me needing to crawl through pipes. I can use a small camera to help me do the inspection. But with some of the larger pipes and cisterns, I need to actually go inside and take a look.
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It’s never the best part of my day, but like I said before: somebody’s got to do it.
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Going down into the bigger tunnels is always a little unnerving. Part of it is the claustrophobic atmosphere and part of it is the knowledge that you’re basically standing in a river of literal human waste. I can deal with it now, but back when I first started the smell alone was darn near impossible to deal with.
​
Ask most sanitation workers and I'm sure they'll have stories about what they've found in the sewers before. Heck, most of it isn't even stuff that people flush down the toilet. It's the stuff that people drop down manhole covers, or the stuff that gets washed into the sewers by the rain. Dead animals are surprisingly common, as are kids toys. I found an entire bicycle in the sewer once and I've got a buddy who found a loaded gun down there! Someone probably thought they'd get rid of it by just tossing it in the sewer.
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Someone was wrong.
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But of all the strange things I've experienced during my time working in the sewers… none of it compares to the stuff I see in the pipes on the southeast side of town.
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The things down there… I don't usually like to talk about them. Heck, I might not even be legally allowed to talk about them. I guess we'll find out, won't we? I've had a few drinks tonight and I'm feeling particularly chatty. So why not spill the beans? Hey, maybe someone out there will tell me something I don’t already know.
​
I’d been on the job for about a year or so before getting sent to the southeast side of town. It’s closer to the lake and the downtown area, so there’s some deeper pipes there. I’d always figured that that was the reason they only really ever sent certain people down there. I’d heard that those tunnels were old and a little labyrinthian. Anyone who didn’t know what they were doing could easily get lost.
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But after we got hit with a particularly nasty rain storm back in summer of 2013, they needed to send someone down to check on some sensors and I just so happened to be one of the guys who was available.
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A bad rain storm can push a sewer system to its limit, so it wasn’t really that surprising that we’d gotten that kind of call and at the time, I didn’t think that there was anything that strange about it. My supervisor told me to head on down toward the pumphouse on the southwest side of town like it was any other priority inspection, and I went along with no questions asked. It was a few streets away from downtown. I’d seen it before but never had a reason to go inside up until then.
​
I was working with a couple of other newbies at the time, a guy by the name of Stewart Long who’d only been on the job for a round three months or so, and another guy by the name of Tomas Opunui who’d started around the same time that I had.
​
We’d arrived at the pumphouse, and when we got there we noticed another team waiting on us. This wasn’t too shocking either. Depending on the size of the job, they might’ve sent some other guys in to help us handle it.
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The guy in charge was an older man who looked to be pushing sixty. He had sort of a ‘Santa Claus on summer vacation’ look, with white hair, a short white beard, a big beer belly and a no nonsense expression.
​
He watched us get out of his truck with a look of stern disapproval, before huffing and trudging over to us.
“Where’s the usual fellas?” He asked.
“I dunno, out. They called us,” I replied.
​
He didn’t seem to like that answer but didn’t say anything in response to it.
“You ever worked on the southeast approach channel before?” He asked.
“Yeah, we’ve been in the ones on the north side of town,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked, kid. You ever worked in this one before?”
​
Something about the way he asked this question struck me as a little odd. I’d worked in an approach channel before. I knew the drill. What did it matter which one I’d worked in?
​
For the unenlightened, an approach channel is a cistern filled with wastewater. They feed into a deep tunnel which feeds into a water treatment plant and they’re considered to be fairly dangerous, due to their depth (if you fall off the ladder on your way down, you’re in for a long drop into a biohazardous lake unless you’re properly tethered) and the harmful gasses that can accumulate in them. Standard operating procedure is to always test the air before entering one just to make sure that it’s even safe to breathe down there.
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Being reckless while going into an approach channel is a recipe for disaster, and I would have understood if the old man was concerned about us not having dealt with one before. But the way he spoke to us implied that this one was different somehow, which didn’t make a whole heck of a lot of sense to me.
“What’s the difference?” I asked. “Same procedure, right?”
“No, not the same procedure. We need people experienced with this approach channel. These tunnels are a little different than what you’re used to.
“Look, the boss sent us here. So I’m sure we’ll manage,” Tomas said. “You can show us what we need to know.”
​
The Old Man didn’t respond to him. He just shook his head and turned away.
“I’m gonna call this in and clear it with the boss first. You three, don’t move until I get back.”
I traded a look with both Tomas and Long as the Old Man trudged away. He said something to the two guys who were with him, before getting back into his truck to make a call.
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Part of me was obliged to try and just get to work. But looking at the other two guys that the Old Man had with him, I had a feeling that they’d try to stop me. One of them, another older guy with a receding hairline and a bushy moustache was watching us like a hawk.
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So we waited.
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After a few minutes, the Old Man got out of his truck again, said something to his buddy with the mustache and trudged back over to us.
“Bad news, fellas. Looks like our usual company’s retired… guess you’re the replacement.”
“So we can get to work?” I asked.
“Yeah. We can get to work,” The Old Man said. “Come on, let’s get going.”
​
With that, he turned and led us into the pumphouse.
“Suppose I might as well introduce myself. Names Troy. My colleagues here are Craig and Peter.”
He gestured to the two men who were with him, Mr. Moustache (who I assumed was Craig) and the other guy, who looked to be in his mid thirties and had sunken eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in a few days. The one who I assumed was Craig just gave us a nod, while the guy I figured was Peter gave a lazy half wave before they followed us into the pumphouse.
“So if you don’t mind my asking, what’s so special about this channel?” I asked.
“I guess you’ll be seeing for yourself soon enough,” Troy replied as he started down a set of stairs. “The guys you’re replacing… well, guy… a fella named Tom… he always had a set of rules for working down here. He passed ‘em on to me and Craig when we started. We’ve passed ‘em on to Peter. Guess it’s time we passed ‘em on to you too.”
​
“Rules?” I asked, “What kind of rules?”
“The kind you listen very, very closely to, kid.”Troy looked back at me, before his eyes shifted to Tomas and Long behind me.
“Very, very closely.”
He descended the rest of the way down the stairs, where there was a hatch in the concrete floor beneath us, along with a large locker on the far side of the room.
​
“Rule number one,” Troy began. “You don’t enter this part of the sewers alone. You stay in a group of at least three to four at all times. No more, no less. Too many and it slows you down. Too few, and you might not come back at all.”
He trailed off, watching as Craig cracked open the hatch to test the air inside.
​
“Rule number two: You do not enter this part of the sewers without a gun and a radio.”
He opened the locker on the far side of the room and I was taken aback to see a collection of several handguns inside, along with boxes of ammunition and one shotgun in amongst the usual PPE.
Troy clipped one of the guns to his belt, along with one of the radios, before handing a pair off to Peter and looking over at us.
​
“Who’s taking it?” He asked.
“Whoa, just hold up for a minute!” Long interjected, “What the hell is down there?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Troy replied. “Hate to say it but it ain’t our job to know. I leave that to someone else. Our job is to follow the rules. You follow them, and you’ll be fine.”
Long seemed skeptical, but I looked at the gun in Troy’s hand and took it. I wasn’t sure if he was having a laugh with us or not, but I was there to do a job and I intended to do it.
​
Troy gave me a quiet nod, before thrusting the second gun over to Long. He didn’t seem to happy to get it.
“Are we gonna have to use these?” He asked.
“Not if you do as I say, you won’t. Rule 3: If you see a pipe or a tunnel with heavy spiderwebs, don’t go down it. Doesn’t matter if that’s where the sensor is. You make a note of it, report it to your supervisor and leave it alone.”
​
Spiderwebs? What the hell was he talking about?
“Rule 4: If you find a body… and odds are, you will find a body, don’t touch it. Don’t try to move it. Hell, don’t even get close to it. And don’t waste the supervisors time reporting it. Only time the bodies get reported is when they’re human.”
“I’m sorry, you’ve been finding human bodies down there?” I asked.
“Rarely,” He replied. “But it’s been known to happen. And if we do find one… the same rules apply. Don’t approach it. Don’t touch it. Stay as far away as possible.”
​
I could see some of the color draining from Long’s face.
“Rule 5: If you see anyone else down there, you are not to interact with them. You do not follow them if they try to lead you somewhere, if they ask you for help, you do not help them. I don’t care if they’re crying and begging. You leave them alone. You report it to your supervisor.”
“There are people down there?” I asked.
“Normally, no. Far as I know, Tom only ever ran into a couple during his career. I’ve only ever seen one. Like I said, best to leave them alone.”
​
“Why?” I asked, “If there’s someone stuck down there, we have an obligation to help them!”
“That would be very ill advised,” Troy said. “You don’t want to anger the things that are down there… which leads me to rule 6: Avoid killing anything you come across down there. They’re not yours to kill. And if you have absolutely no choice, if you have to break that rule for the sake of self defense, then we leave immediately. That’s rule number 7.”
​
“Air’s safe down there,” Craig said, interrupting our conversation.
“Good. Let’s get suited up, then. Oh… and rule 8. Final rule. If anything happens to any member of our team, we leave immediately. We don’t go after them. We don’t try to help them. We leave immediately. Is that clear? I don’t care if it’s me, begging you for help. You leave me behind.”
​
Long and I remained silent, neither of us entirely sure how to react to this or even what to say. Troy had made it sound as if we were about to descend into a level of hell. I couldn’t imagine what the hell could possibly be down there to elicit a list of rules like that, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to find out either!
“Well? You fellas getting ready or not?” Troy asked impatiently as he put on his PPE. “The quicker we get down there, the quicker we can get out again!”
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“If this is so dangerous, why are they sending us?” Long asked, “Shouldn’t they be sending… I dunno, the cops or something?”
“They tolerate us being down there, so long as we don’t disturb them. They wouldn’t be so forgiving toward the local police,” Troy replied. “Listen, kid. Obey the rules and you’ll be fine, got that? We’ve been doing this for years without any problems. You keep your head on your shoulders, you do what we say and you go home safe. Alright?”
​
Long still didn’t seem convinced, but I did. By this point, I was morbidly curious about exactly what was down there… and Troy’s assurance that they’d come out unscathed before did set me at ease a little bit. These rules sounded kinda scary, but what could realistically go wrong? With Troy keeping us in line, everything would probably be fine and besides, I still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all some sort of elaborate prank the old man was pulling. I grabbed myself a set of PPE and got ready and after a moments hesitation, Long did the same.
​
When we were ready, Craig opened up the hatch in the floor, and Tomas helped get us tethered so that we wouldn’t plummet down into the waters below if we slipped on the ladder, then we finally began our descent.
​
Troy went first, climbing down the ladder and into the darkness below. I went second, followed by Peter and followed by Long.
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We climbed down into the approach channel in relative silence, only really speaking again once we made it to the bottom of the ladder.
​
Troy helped me get untethered, before doing the same for Peter and Long as they reached the bottom, and while he did that I got my first look at the dreaded southeast approach channel. I can’t say that there was a heck of a lot to see. The walls were boxy and flat, and the dirty wastewater trickled over my boots and into the pipe sending it even deeper through the sewer system.
​
The sensors should have been mounted on the ceiling, and I traced the black conduit line with my flashlight as I searched for the sensor they connected to. Peter and Long stayed back as Tomas and Craig lowered our tools down after us, while Troy came up behind me.
“Should be quick work…” He noted, “Rain doesn’t seem to have done much in here. Water level is still fairly low.”
​
I saw his flashlight shift upward toward the ceiling before he spotted the sensor. He trudged through the water to get closer to it, and I followed him.
“No external damage,” I noted. “Conduit lines look good too.”
“Yeah, we’ll run our tests and get out of here,” Troy said. “Approach channel is usually pretty safe… usually.”
“Usually?” I asked, and Troy pointed his flashlight up toward a set of silky spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling a few feet behind the sensor.
​
“They don’t typically come up here… but every now and then you might find some proof of some young ones, trying to get into the pumphouse.”
I looked over at him.
“They try to break into the pumphouse?” I asked, “Did they ever get in?”
“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Can’t imagine they’d stay long if they did. Nothing to eat in there.”
“What exactly are they?” I asked, “And don’t you tell me that’s not for us to know. You’ve seen them, right? What do they look like?”
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Troy had started to answer, when suddenly I heard Long screaming and swearing up a storm. Both of us turned to look, just in time to see something large skittering up the wall beside him. I only caught a brief glimpse of it, but it seemed to be roughly the size of a dog with more legs than I could count. Long stared at it with wide, horrified eyes as he fumbled with his gun, before pulling it free.
​
I saw Troy’s eyes widen before Long fired five times. Only one or two of the bullets actually hit the target. I heard Peter cry out in pain and grab at his arm before falling and whatever it was that Long had actually been shooting at collapsed into the shallow water, its pale body twitching violently.
“What did you just do?!” Troy demanded, running over to Peter’s side.
“I-it was coming for me!” Long protested, before noticing what he’d done to Peter. I saw his eyes widen in horror.
“Oh no… no, no, no… I didn’t…”
“Rule 6! You don’t kill anything down here! You leave them alone and they leave you alone!” Troy roared, before his attention returned to Peter. “How bad is it?”
​
“J-just a scratch, boss… I think I got hit by the ricochet,” Peter said, as Troy inspected his wound. I’ve never seen a gunshot wound before, but there was a lot of blood for it to just be a scratch.
“We’ll get you topside,” Troy said. “And come back down tomorrow with someone who knows how to follow rules!”
​
He shot Long a death glare before his radio crackled to life.
“Troy, everything good down there?” Craig asked.
“No, no it isn’t. One of the newbies got jumpy, shot at a centipede.” He huffed, “Put a hole in Peter in the process. Think you can reel him back up?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Hook him up. Tomas and I will bring him topside.”
​
Troy quietly hooked Peter up to the line, before helping him onto the ladder.
“You take it easy on the way up, and we’ll get that checked out,” He promised.
“Thanks boss,” Peter said quietly.
Troy’s attention returned to Long next, as he fixed him in a death glare.
“You, up the ladder behind him. And you…” He looked at me, his expression softening just a little.
“Behind him. I’ll go up last.”
​
Peter started to meekly climb the ladder, although it seemed like Craig and Tomas were doing most of the work, hoisting him up rung by rung. Once he’d made it part of the way up, Long started to hook himself up to climb behind him. Although before he could hook himself in, I saw him pause for a moment, staring at Troy.
“What is it?” Troy asked, before pausing.
​
Long craned his neck a little, his hand moving down to his gun again… and it was then that both Troy and I realized that he hadn’t been looking at Troy. He’d been looking at what was behind him.
​
I only saw a shadow, perched on the roof of the tunnel. But that was all that Long needed to see before he started shooting again.
“DON’T!”
But by the time Troy had gotten the word out, that trigger happy idiot had already started shooting again and this time, the thing that came for him didn’t drop dead.
​
Instead, it launched itself off of the ceiling of the tunnel, crashing into the ground a few feet away from me.
“WAIT!” Troy tried to protest before the thing in front of us knocked him aside, dashing him against the wall. Long scrambled away, retreating deeper into the tunnel while Peter frantically tried to unholster his gun.
“Troy? Troy, what’s going on down there?” I heard Craig calling over the radio, “Troy? Anyone, respond!”
​
The shape in front of us turned, looking over at me and Long. Eight eyes shone in the darkness and though I could only see the shadow of the creature before us, I saw enough. It had a body like a spider, with eight long chitinous legs. Only its body was much larger than any spider I’d ever seen before.
​
Much, much larger.
​
This creature was almost the size of a small car, but it wasn’t its size that terrified me. It was the humanoid torso coming out of the front of it. The two arms that ended in razor sharp claws, the snarling mouth that made noises that almost sounded human.
​
When this impossible thing looked at us, I saw real intelligence in its eyes. It was studying us, trying to determine how much of a threat we were…
​
Long kept his gun trained on it, hands shaking violently. I knew that he was going to shoot again, and hoping not to anger this thing, grabbed his arm, trying to force his gun down. He jumped the moment that I touched him giving me a hysterical look.
“Don’t!” I snapped, “You’re just gonna piss it off!”
​
The Spider took a step toward us, hissing as it did. Long pulled away from me.
“Stu!”
I tried calling his name, but Long had already made his choice and sealed his fate. He’d opted to fight this thing. And so, like the fool he was he shot at it again.
​
The Spider lunged for us.
​
I ran. Long didn’t.
​
He only had enough time to scream before it pounced on him, and then… all I could hear were the dying screams in his throat as he was pulled apart. I didn’t see him die. But I didn’t need to. I heard everything. I kept running, not even thinking about where the approach channel was going to end. And when it did end, all I could do was plummet into the darkness.
​
See, at the end of an approach channel is what is appropriately called a drop shaft. It’s where the water flows into a larger tunnel beneath the city. That tunnel, flows into the water treatment plant, eventually and the water down there… yeah… let’s just say that you don’t want to end up in the water down there.
​
Unfortunately, that was exactly where I was going.
​
I know that every job has its struggles, but I didn’t expect to need to choose between diving into raw sewage and fighting a giant spider monster when I woke up that morning. However the choice was presented to me and I did the best that I could given the circumstances.
​
Going into the wastewater was exactly an unpleasant experience as you’d think it would be. I’m inclined not to share the details of what it was like, simply because I genuinely do not want to remember them and I’m still not entirely convinced that dealing with the giant angry spider person wasn’t the better choice.
​
A small comfort was that the pain of hitting the water, combined with the confusing sensation of being flushed through a pipe and into an even larger pipe made the whole experience slightly less disgusting, at the cost of being considerably more painful.
​
At the end of it, I was washed out into the main pipe and collapsed into the water, covered in filth and gagging from the stench that had sank into my every pore. I felt disoriented and confused. I tried to stand, only to collapse back into the wastewater, before aimlessly looking around, hoping that maybe I could figure out what direction to go in. It was too dark to see much of anything and I’d lost my flashlight during my trip through the wastewater, so I was left to just wander aimlessly, following what I thought was the flow of the water as my eyes slowly started to acclimate to the darkness.
​
I could feel shapes in the water. Some of them I almost tripped over and I could smell rotting meat on top of the stink of human waste. In the darkness, I could make out shapes in the water and hear the buzzing of bugs around me. I could even feel a few whizz past my head and mindlessly swatted at them.
​
Old bones crunched under my boots, and I quietly thanked whatever God was listening that I couldn’t see what they’d belonged to. I wanted to assume they were animal bones… but who knew, right? I couldn’t shake the mental image of myself unknowingly stepping over the mauled corpse of Stewart Long… although that was more from the trauma of having recently witnessed a man die than any guilt over what had happened to him. Long had quite literally gotten himself killed. Although I was terrified that I’d be joining him at any second.
​
I kept listening in, half expecting to hear spider legs creeping up behind me. But it was impossible to tell if I was alone or not in that darkness and with the bugs buzzing past me. If there were anything after me, I truly would not know it until after it had pounced.
​
Still, I knew I couldn’t afford to let the fear get the better of me. So I just kept walking, hoping that maybe if I did, I’d somehow find myself at the water treatment plant and maybe then I’d get some help.
​
Maybe.
​
As I pressed on, I noticed a light ahead of me and picked up the pace, hoping to God that I’d finally found my way out of this mess. But as I drew closer, I became very aware that whatever the source of that light was, it was not from the water treatment plant.
​
In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. My first thought was that it was a fatberg (which is a solid mass of waste matter formed by an unholy mixture of wet wipes, grease, oil and every other piece of garbage people tend to flush down their toilets) but the longer I looked, the less certain I was about that.
​
Fatbergs usually didn’t have lamps embedded in them.
​
Fatbergs usually didn’t have thick spiderwebs clinging to them.
​
Fatbergs didn’t usually lead into a separate tunnel into the earth large enough for me to walk through.
​
And finally, fatbergs didn’t usually have dead deer protruding from them. Let alone dead deer with other bugs living in them. God… the sight of those corpses… the way the bugs crawled through the rotting flesh and exposed bone. The empty, hollow eyes… it was almost too horrible to look at.
​
And I swore that I could see things inside the corpses! Honeycombs of some sort, and the bugs who crawled around them looked almost like bees.
​
Was… was something cultivating some kind of bee in these things?
​
I thought back to Troy’s rules.
“Rule 4: If you find a body… and odds are, you will find a body, don’t touch it. Don’t try to move it. Hell, don’t even get close to it. And don’t waste the supervisor's time reporting it. Only time the bodies get reported is when they’re human.”
​
Suddenly, they made a little more sense. If those spider things were cultivating something in these bodies… of course we shouldn’t touch them. And if they were cultivating their food in the sewer… I paused, before staring down the tunnel that the corpses sat near the entrance of.
​
Dull lamps illuminated it as it wound down into the earth, and I could see several pale centipede things that looked a lot like the creature that Long had shot to get us into this mess in the first place. These things must have belonged to the Spiders too, although whether they were some sort of guard dog or another thing they were farming was hard to say.
​
I took a step away from the tunnel, before looking back to make sure that I was well enough alone and trudging onward. And that was when I heard the slow rustle of movement.
​
I paused, feeling a chill run through me as the imminent reality of my own death dawned on me.
​
Slowly I turned, just in time to see a dark shape descending from the ceiling. A fresh set of eyes settled on me, narrowing as they studied me.
​
I put my hands up, hoping that it might understand the gesture of surrender and slowly it drew closer to me. I wasn’t sure if it was curious, or looking to murder me and at that point, I don’t think it really mattered. I wish I could say that I faced my death with dignity, but I’m going to be honest, I didn’t. I sat there, quivering and praying to whatever God would listen that it wouldn’t, kill me.
​
And then… I heard a voice.
“Leave that one! He’s with me!”
​
Troy?
​
I saw a figure emerge from the tunnel in the wall, and against all logic, somehow it was Troy! He had a hell of a goose egg on his head from where he’d been hit earlier, but he was alive! He stepped between me and the spider person, arms outstretched.
​
“With me.” He repeated firmly.
The Spider stared down at him, before huffing and turning away. I watched as they disappeared down the nearby tunnel, and Troy watched them go, before quietly turning to me.
​
“Good lord, boy… I’m shocked to see you’re still alive!”
“W-what just happened?” Was the only thing I could stammer. “You can talk to them?!”
“Some of ‘em. I’ve been down here for long enough that they know me. Know I’m not a threat. But they ain’t too happy with us right now. So what you’re gonna do here is get up, follow me, and I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“How do you know they’re even gonna let us leave?” I asked.
​
Troy’s expression soured.
“Had to pay ‘em off…” He admitted, “Let them keep what was left of your friend. They considered it a fair trade, so long as we leave. Now, let’s go.”
I didn’t ask any more questions.
​
***
​
After I made it out of the sewers that day, I ended up in the hospital alongside Peter. I had some minor cuts and bruises, a burning rash over most of my body from all the sewage I’d been crawling around in… but I was still alive, and I figured that had to count for something.
​
Nobody said a word about what happened to Stewart Long down in the sewer. He got written off as a workplace accident and they never even tried to recover his body. I suspect what’s left of him is still down in the sewers, even now… feeding whatever it is that those things down there are cultivating, although I’ve never seen the body myself.
​
Yes… I have been back down beneath the southeast side of town. The next time they needed someone to go, they sent me and Tomas along with Troy, Craig and Peter. We know what’s down there and we know how to deal with them, after all. My second visit to those sewers was a lot less eventful, and most of my subsequent visits haven’t been all that eventful either.
​
Over the years, I’ve gotten better at dealing with the Spiders… they’re not the most friendly folk and I know all too well that if you cross them, they’ll rip your guts out before you even realize that you’re dead. But so long as you follow the rules and leave them alone, they’re content to live and let live. They can even be reasonable, to an extent. We’ve had a few small incidents over the years, but nothing like the one that Long caused.
​
Odds are, when Troy and Craig retire next year, Tomas and I will be training the next group on what to do when you’re down beneath the southeast side of town. So in preparation for that, I’ve made a point to keep a copy of Tom's rules in the pumphouse. I also keep a picture of Stewart Long in there. Not as a memorial and not out of spite either. Just as a grim reminder of what can happen when you don’t follow the [rules.](https://www.reddit.com/HeadOfSpectre/)

The way I see it, if you don’t notice that I exist, then I’m doing my job correctly.
​
My name is Ben McFarlane and I work as a municipal sewer inspector in the town of Tevam Sound, Ontario. It's not the most glamorous job, but hey, somebody's got to do it and it puts food on the table.
​
You'd probably think that working as a sewer inspector isn't that exciting… and yeah, for the most part you'd be right. Most of the time, all I'm doing is checking the pipes for damage. Unless there’s a reason for me to investigate a certain area, most of what I do is routine inspection, which helps ensure that the sewers remain in good working order. Trust me, nobody wants to see what happens when they aren’t.
​
Thankfully, a lot of what I do can be done without me needing to crawl through pipes. I can use a small camera to help me do the inspection. But with some of the larger pipes and cisterns, I need to actually go inside and take a look.
​
It’s never the best part of my day, but like I said before: somebody’s got to do it.
​
Going down into the bigger tunnels is always a little unnerving. Part of it is the claustrophobic atmosphere and part of it is the knowledge that you’re basically standing in a river of literal human waste. I can deal with it now, but back when I first started the smell alone was darn near impossible to deal with.
​
Ask most sanitation workers and I'm sure they'll have stories about what they've found in the sewers before. Heck, most of it isn't even stuff that people flush down the toilet. It's the stuff that people drop down manhole covers, or the stuff that gets washed into the sewers by the rain. Dead animals are surprisingly common, as are kids toys. I found an entire bicycle in the sewer once and I've got a buddy who found a loaded gun down there! Someone probably thought they'd get rid of it by just tossing it in the sewer.
​
Someone was wrong.
​
But of all the strange things I've experienced during my time working in the sewers… none of it compares to the stuff I see in the pipes on the southeast side of town.
​
The things down there… I don't usually like to talk about them. Heck, I might not even be legally allowed to talk about them. I guess we'll find out, won't we? I've had a few drinks tonight and I'm feeling particularly chatty. So why not spill the beans? Hey, maybe someone out there will tell me something I don’t already know.
​
I’d been on the job for about a year or so before getting sent to the southeast side of town. It’s closer to the lake and the downtown area, so there’s some deeper pipes there. I’d always figured that that was the reason they only really ever sent certain people down there. I’d heard that those tunnels were old and a little labyrinthian. Anyone who didn’t know what they were doing could easily get lost.
​
But after we got hit with a particularly nasty rain storm back in summer of 2013, they needed to send someone down to check on some sensors and I just so happened to be one of the guys who was available.
​
A bad rain storm can push a sewer system to its limit, so it wasn’t really that surprising that we’d gotten that kind of call and at the time, I didn’t think that there was anything that strange about it. My supervisor told me to head on down toward the pumphouse on the southwest side of town like it was any other priority inspection, and I went along with no questions asked. It was a few streets away from downtown. I’d seen it before but never had a reason to go inside up until then.
​
I was working with a couple of other newbies at the time, a guy by the name of Stewart Long who’d only been on the job for a round three months or so, and another guy by the name of Tomas Opunui who’d started around the same time that I had.
​
We’d arrived at the pumphouse, and when we got there we noticed another team waiting on us. This wasn’t too shocking either. Depending on the size of the job, they might’ve sent some other guys in to help us handle it.
​
The guy in charge was an older man who looked to be pushing sixty. He had sort of a ‘Santa Claus on summer vacation’ look, with white hair, a short white beard, a big beer belly and a no nonsense expression.
​
He watched us get out of his truck with a look of stern disapproval, before huffing and trudging over to us.
“Where’s the usual fellas?” He asked.
“I dunno, out. They called us,” I replied.
​
He didn’t seem to like that answer but didn’t say anything in response to it.
“You ever worked on the southeast approach channel before?” He asked.
“Yeah, we’ve been in the ones on the north side of town,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked, kid. You ever worked in this one before?”
​
Something about the way he asked this question struck me as a little odd. I’d worked in an approach channel before. I knew the drill. What did it matter which one I’d worked in?
​
For the unenlightened, an approach channel is a cistern filled with wastewater. They feed into a deep tunnel which feeds into a water treatment plant and they’re considered to be fairly dangerous, due to their depth (if you fall off the ladder on your way down, you’re in for a long drop into a biohazardous lake unless you’re properly tethered) and the harmful gasses that can accumulate in them. Standard operating procedure is to always test the air before entering one just to make sure that it’s even safe to breathe down there.
​
Being reckless while going into an approach channel is a recipe for disaster, and I would have understood if the old man was concerned about us not having dealt with one before. But the way he spoke to us implied that this one was different somehow, which didn’t make a whole heck of a lot of sense to me.
“What’s the difference?” I asked. “Same procedure, right?”
“No, not the same procedure. We need people experienced with this approach channel. These tunnels are a little different than what you’re used to.
“Look, the boss sent us here. So I’m sure we’ll manage,” Tomas said. “You can show us what we need to know.”
​
The Old Man didn’t respond to him. He just shook his head and turned away.
“I’m gonna call this in and clear it with the boss first. You three, don’t move until I get back.”
I traded a look with both Tomas and Long as the Old Man trudged away. He said something to the two guys who were with him, before getting back into his truck to make a call.
​
Part of me was obliged to try and just get to work. But looking at the other two guys that the Old Man had with him, I had a feeling that they’d try to stop me. One of them, another older guy with a receding hairline and a bushy moustache was watching us like a hawk.
​
So we waited.
​
After a few minutes, the Old Man got out of his truck again, said something to his buddy with the mustache and trudged back over to us.
“Bad news, fellas. Looks like our usual company’s retired… guess you’re the replacement.”
“So we can get to work?” I asked.
“Yeah. We can get to work,” The Old Man said. “Come on, let’s get going.”
​
With that, he turned and led us into the pumphouse.
“Suppose I might as well introduce myself. Names Troy. My colleagues here are Craig and Peter.”
He gestured to the two men who were with him, Mr. Moustache (who I assumed was Craig) and the other guy, who looked to be in his mid thirties and had sunken eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in a few days. The one who I assumed was Craig just gave us a nod, while the guy I figured was Peter gave a lazy half wave before they followed us into the pumphouse.
“So if you don’t mind my asking, what’s so special about this channel?” I asked.
“I guess you’ll be seeing for yourself soon enough,” Troy replied as he started down a set of stairs. “The guys you’re replacing… well, guy… a fella named Tom… he always had a set of rules for working down here. He passed ‘em on to me and Craig when we started. We’ve passed ‘em on to Peter. Guess it’s time we passed ‘em on to you too.”
​
“Rules?” I asked, “What kind of rules?”
“The kind you listen very, very closely to, kid.” Troy looked back at me, before his eyes shifted to Tomas and Long behind me.
“Very, very closely.”
He descended the rest of the way down the stairs, where there was a hatch in the concrete floor beneath us, along with a large locker on the far side of the room.
​
“Rule number one,” Troy began. “You don’t enter this part of the sewers alone. You stay in a group of at least three to four at all times. No more, no less. Too many and it slows you down. Too few, and you might not come back at all.”
He trailed off, watching as Craig cracked open the hatch to test the air inside.
​
“Rule number two: You do not enter this part of the sewers without a gun and a radio.”
He opened the locker on the far side of the room and I was taken aback to see a collection of several handguns inside, along with boxes of ammunition and one shotgun in amongst the usual PPE.
Troy clipped one of the guns to his belt, along with one of the radios, before handing a pair off to Peter and looking over at us.
​
“Who’s taking it?” He asked.
“Whoa, just hold up for a minute!” Long interjected, “What the hell is down there?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Troy replied. “Hate to say it but it ain’t our job to know. I leave that to someone else. Our job is to follow the rules. You follow them, and you’ll be fine.”
Long seemed skeptical, but I looked at the gun in Troy’s hand and took it. I wasn’t sure if he was having a laugh with us or not, but I was there to do a job and I intended to do it.
​
Troy gave me a quiet nod, before thrusting the second gun over to Long. He didn’t seem to happy to get it.
“Are we gonna have to use these?” He asked.
“Not if you do as I say, you won’t. Rule 3: If you see a pipe or a tunnel with heavy spiderwebs, don’t go down it. Doesn’t matter if that’s where the sensor is. You make a note of it, report it to your supervisor and leave it alone.”
​
Spiderwebs? What the hell was he talking about?
“Rule 4: If you find a body… and odds are, you will find a body, don’t touch it. Don’t try to move it. Hell, don’t even get close to it. And don’t waste the supervisors time reporting it. Only time the bodies get reported is when they’re human.”
“I’m sorry, you’ve been finding human bodies down there?” I asked.
“Rarely,” He replied. “But it’s been known to happen. And if we do find one… the same rules apply. Don’t approach it. Don’t touch it. Stay as far away as possible.”
​
I could see some of the color draining from Long’s face.
“Rule 5: If you see anyone else down there, you are not to interact with them. You do not follow them if they try to lead you somewhere, if they ask you for help, you do not help them. I don’t care if they’re crying and begging. You leave them alone. You report it to your supervisor.”
“There are people down there?” I asked.
“Normally, no. Far as I know, Tom only ever ran into a couple during his career. I’ve only ever seen one. Like I said, best to leave them alone.”
​
“Why?” I asked, “If there’s someone stuck down there, we have an obligation to help them!”
“That would be very ill advised,” Troy said. “You don’t want to anger the things that are down there… which leads me to rule 6: Avoid killing anything you come across down there. They’re not yours to kill. And if you have absolutely no choice, if you have to break that rule for the sake of self defense, then we leave immediately. That’s rule number 7.”
​
“Air’s safe down there,” Craig said, interrupting our conversation.
“Good. Let’s get suited up, then. Oh… and rule 8. Final rule. If anything happens to any member of our team, we leave immediately. We don’t go after them. We don’t try to help them. We leave immediately. Is that clear? I don’t care if it’s me, begging you for help. You leave me behind.”
​
Long and I remained silent, neither of us entirely sure how to react to this or even what to say. Troy had made it sound as if we were about to descend into a level of hell. I couldn’t imagine what the hell could possibly be down there to elicit a list of rules like that, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to find out either!
“Well? You fellas getting ready or not?” Troy asked impatiently as he put on his PPE. “The quicker we get down there, the quicker we can get out again!”
​
“If this is so dangerous, why are they sending us?” Long asked, “Shouldn’t they be sending… I dunno, the cops or something?”
“They tolerate us being down there, so long as we don’t disturb them. They wouldn’t be so forgiving toward the local police,” Troy replied. “Listen, kid. Obey the rules and you’ll be fine, got that? We’ve been doing this for years without any problems. You keep your head on your shoulders, you do what we say and you go home safe. Alright?”
​
Long still didn’t seem convinced, but I did. By this point, I was morbidly curious about exactly what was down there… and Troy’s assurance that they’d come out unscathed before did set me at ease a little bit. These rules sounded kinda scary, but what could realistically go wrong? With Troy keeping us in line, everything would probably be fine and besides, I still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all some sort of elaborate prank the old man was pulling. I grabbed myself a set of PPE and got ready and after a moments hesitation, Long did the same.
​
When we were ready, Craig opened up the hatch in the floor, and Tomas helped get us tethered so that we wouldn’t plummet down into the waters below if we slipped on the ladder, then we finally began our descent.
​
Troy went first, climbing down the ladder and into the darkness below. I went second, followed by Peter and followed by Long.
​
We climbed down into the approach channel in relative silence, only really speaking again once we made it to the bottom of the ladder.
​
Troy helped me get untethered, before doing the same for Peter and Long as they reached the bottom, and while he did that I got my first look at the dreaded southeast approach channel. I can’t say that there was a heck of a lot to see. The walls were boxy and flat, and the dirty wastewater trickled over my boots and into the pipe sending it even deeper through the sewer system.
​
The sensors should have been mounted on the ceiling, and I traced the black conduit line with my flashlight as I searched for the sensor they connected to. Peter and Long stayed back as Tomas and Craig lowered our tools down after us, while Troy came up behind me.
“Should be quick work…” He noted, “Rain doesn’t seem to have done much in here. Water level is still fairly low.”
​
I saw his flashlight shift upward toward the ceiling before he spotted the sensor. He trudged through the water to get closer to it, and I followed him.
“No external damage,” I noted. “Conduit lines look good too.”
“Yeah, we’ll run our tests and get out of here,” Troy said. “Approach channel is usually pretty safe… usually.”
“Usually?” I asked, and Troy pointed his flashlight up toward a set of silky spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling a few feet behind the sensor.
​
“They don’t typically come up here… but every now and then you might find some proof of some young ones, trying to get into the pumphouse.”
I looked over at him.
“They try to break into the pumphouse?” I asked, “Did they ever get in?”
“Not that I’ve ever heard of. Can’t imagine they’d stay long if they did. Nothing to eat in there.”
“What exactly are they?” I asked, “And don’t you tell me that’s not for us to know. You’ve seen them, right? What do they look like?”
​
Troy had started to answer, when suddenly I heard Long screaming and swearing up a storm. Both of us turned to look, just in time to see something large skittering up the wall beside him. I only caught a brief glimpse of it, but it seemed to be roughly the size of a dog with more legs than I could count. Long stared at it with wide, horrified eyes as he fumbled with his gun, before pulling it free.
​
I saw Troy’s eyes widen before Long fired five times. Only one or two of the bullets actually hit the target. I heard Peter cry out in pain and grab at his arm before falling and whatever it was that Long had actually been shooting at collapsed into the shallow water, its pale body twitching violently.
“What did you just do?!” Troy demanded, running over to Peter’s side.
“I-it was coming for me!” Long protested, before noticing what he’d done to Peter. I saw his eyes widen in horror.
“Oh no… no, no, no… I didn’t…”
“Rule 6! You don’t kill anything down here! You leave them alone and they leave you alone!” Troy roared, before his attention returned to Peter. “How bad is it?”
​
“J-just a scratch, boss… I think I got hit by the ricochet,” Peter said, as Troy inspected his wound. I’ve never seen a gunshot wound before, but there was a lot of blood for it to just be a scratch.
“We’ll get you topside,” Troy said. “And come back down tomorrow with someone who knows how to follow rules!”
​
He shot Long a death glare before his radio crackled to life.
“Troy, everything good down there?” Craig asked.
“No, no it isn’t. One of the newbies got jumpy, shot at a centipede.” He huffed, “Put a hole in Peter in the process. Think you can reel him back up?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Hook him up. Tomas and I will bring him topside.”
​
Troy quietly hooked Peter up to the line, before helping him onto the ladder.
“You take it easy on the way up, and we’ll get that checked out,” He promised.
“Thanks boss,” Peter said quietly.
Troy’s attention returned to Long next, as he fixed him in a death glare.
“You, up the ladder behind him. And you…” He looked at me, his expression softening just a little.
“Behind him. I’ll go up last.”
​
Peter started to meekly climb the ladder, although it seemed like Craig and Tomas were doing most of the work, hoisting him up rung by rung. Once he’d made it part of the way up, Long started to hook himself up to climb behind him. Although before he could hook himself in, I saw him pause for a moment, staring at Troy.
“What is it?” Troy asked, before pausing.
​
Long craned his neck a little, his hand moving down to his gun again… and it was then that both Troy and I realized that he hadn’t been looking at Troy. He’d been looking at what was behind him.
​
I only saw a shadow, perched on the roof of the tunnel. But that was all that Long needed to see before he started shooting again.
“DON’T!”
But by the time Troy had gotten the word out, that trigger happy idiot had already started shooting again and this time, the thing that came for him didn’t drop dead.
​
Instead, it launched itself off of the ceiling of the tunnel, crashing into the ground a few feet away from me.
“WAIT!” Troy tried to protest before the thing in front of us knocked him aside, dashing him against the wall. Long scrambled away, retreating deeper into the tunnel while Peter frantically tried to unholster his gun.
“Troy? Troy, what’s going on down there?” I heard Craig calling over the radio, “Troy? Anyone, respond!”
​
The shape in front of us turned, looking over at me and Long. Eight eyes shone in the darkness and though I could only see the shadow of the creature before us, I saw enough. It had a body like a spider, with eight long chitinous legs. Only its body was much larger than any spider I’d ever seen before.
​
Much, much larger.
​
This creature was almost the size of a small car, but it wasn’t its size that terrified me. It was the humanoid torso coming out of the front of it. The two arms that ended in razor sharp claws, the snarling mouth that made noises that almost sounded human.
​
When this impossible thing looked at us, I saw real intelligence in its eyes. It was studying us, trying to determine how much of a threat we were…
​
Long kept his gun trained on it, hands shaking violently. I knew that he was going to shoot again, and hoping not to anger this thing, grabbed his arm, trying to force his gun down. He jumped the moment that I touched him giving me a hysterical look.
“Don’t!” I snapped, “You’re just gonna piss it off!”
​
The Spider took a step toward us, hissing as it did. Long pulled away from me.
“Stu!”
I tried calling his name, but Long had already made his choice and sealed his fate. He’d opted to fight this thing. And so, like the fool he was he shot at it again.
​
The Spider lunged for us.
​
I ran. Long didn’t.
​
He only had enough time to scream before it pounced on him, and then… all I could hear were the dying screams in his throat as he was pulled apart. I didn’t see him die. But I didn’t need to. I heard everything. I kept running, not even thinking about where the approach channel was going to end. And when it did end, all I could do was plummet into the darkness.
​
See, at the end of an approach channel is what is appropriately called a drop shaft. It’s where the water flows into a larger tunnel beneath the city. That tunnel, flows into the water treatment plant, eventually and the water down there… yeah… let’s just say that you don’t want to end up in the water down there.
​
Unfortunately, that was exactly where I was going.
​
I know that every job has its struggles, but I didn’t expect to need to choose between diving into raw sewage and fighting a giant spider monster when I woke up that morning. However the choice was presented to me and I did the best that I could given the circumstances.
​
Going into the wastewater was exactly an unpleasant experience as you’d think it would be. I’m inclined not to share the details of what it was like, simply because I genuinely do not want to remember them and I’m still not entirely convinced that dealing with the giant angry spider person wasn’t the better choice.
​
A small comfort was that the pain of hitting the water, combined with the confusing sensation of being flushed through a pipe and into an even larger pipe made the whole experience slightly less disgusting, at the cost of being considerably more painful.
​
At the end of it, I was washed out into the main pipe and collapsed into the water, covered in filth and gagging from the stench that had sank into my every pore. I felt disoriented and confused. I tried to stand, only to collapse back into the wastewater, before aimlessly looking around, hoping that maybe I could figure out what direction to go in. It was too dark to see much of anything and I’d lost my flashlight during my trip through the wastewater, so I was left to just wander aimlessly, following what I thought was the flow of the water as my eyes slowly started to acclimate to the darkness.
​
I could feel shapes in the water. Some of them I almost tripped over and I could smell rotting meat on top of the stink of human waste. In the darkness, I could make out shapes in the water and hear the buzzing of bugs around me. I could even feel a few whizz past my head and mindlessly swatted at them.
​
Old bones crunched under my boots, and I quietly thanked whatever God was listening that I couldn’t see what they’d belonged to. I wanted to assume they were animal bones… but who knew, right? I couldn’t shake the mental image of myself unknowingly stepping over the mauled corpse of Stewart Long… although that was more from the trauma of having recently witnessed a man die than any guilt over what had happened to him. Long had quite literally gotten himself killed. Although I was terrified that I’d be joining him at any second.
​
I kept listening in, half expecting to hear spider legs creeping up behind me. But it was impossible to tell if I was alone or not in that darkness and with the bugs buzzing past me. If there were anything after me, I truly would not know it until after it had pounced.
​
Still, I knew I couldn’t afford to let the fear get the better of me. So I just kept walking, hoping that maybe if I did, I’d somehow find myself at the water treatment plant and maybe then I’d get some help.
​
Maybe.
​
As I pressed on, I noticed a light ahead of me and picked up the pace, hoping to God that I’d finally found my way out of this mess. But as I drew closer, I became very aware that whatever the source of that light was, it was not from the water treatment plant.
​
In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. My first thought was that it was a fatberg (which is a solid mass of waste matter formed by an unholy mixture of wet wipes, grease, oil and every other piece of garbage people tend to flush down their toilets) but the longer I looked, the less certain I was about that.
​
Fatbergs usually didn’t have lamps embedded in them.
​
Fatbergs usually didn’t have thick spiderwebs clinging to them.
​
Fatbergs didn’t usually lead into a separate tunnel into the earth large enough for me to walk through.
​
And finally, fatbergs didn’t usually have dead deer protruding from them. Let alone dead deer with other bugs living in them. God… the sight of those corpses… the way the bugs crawled through the rotting flesh and exposed bone. The empty, hollow eyes… it was almost too horrible to look at.
​
And I swore that I could see things inside the corpses! Honeycombs of some sort, and the bugs who crawled around them looked almost like bees.
​
Was… was something cultivating some kind of bee in these things?
​
I thought back to Troy’s rules.
“Rule 4: If you find a body… and odds are, you will find a body, don’t touch it. Don’t try to move it. Hell, don’t even get close to it. And don’t waste the supervisor's time reporting it. Only time the bodies get reported is when they’re human.”
​
Suddenly, they made a little more sense. If those spider things were cultivating something in these bodies… of course we shouldn’t touch them. And if they were cultivating their food in the sewer… I paused, before staring down the tunnel that the corpses sat near the entrance of.
​
Dull lamps illuminated it as it wound down into the earth, and I could see several pale centipede things that looked a lot like the creature that Long had shot to get us into this mess in the first place. These things must have belonged to the Spiders too, although whether they were some sort of guard dog or another thing they were farming was hard to say.
​
I took a step away from the tunnel, before looking back to make sure that I was well enough alone and trudging onward. And that was when I heard the slow rustle of movement.
​
I paused, feeling a chill run through me as the imminent reality of my own death dawned on me.
​
Slowly I turned, just in time to see a dark shape descending from the ceiling. A fresh set of eyes settled on me, narrowing as they studied me.
​
I put my hands up, hoping that it might understand the gesture of surrender and slowly it drew closer to me. I wasn’t sure if it was curious, or looking to murder me and at that point, I don’t think it really mattered. I wish I could say that I faced my death with dignity, but I’m going to be honest, I didn’t. I sat there, quivering and praying to whatever God would listen that it wouldn’t, kill me.
​
And then… I heard a voice.
“Leave that one! He’s with me!”
​
Troy?
​
I saw a figure emerge from the tunnel in the wall, and against all logic, somehow it was Troy! He had a hell of a goose egg on his head from where he’d been hit earlier, but he was alive! He stepped between me and the spider person, arms outstretched.
​
“With me.” He repeated firmly.
The Spider stared down at him, before huffing and turning away. I watched as they disappeared down the nearby tunnel, and Troy watched them go, before quietly turning to me.
​
“Good lord, boy… I’m shocked to see you’re still alive!”
“W-what just happened?” Was the only thing I could stammer. “You can talk to them?!”
“Some of ‘em. I’ve been down here for long enough that they know me. Know I’m not a threat. But they ain’t too happy with us right now. So what you’re gonna do here is get up, follow me, and I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“How do you know they’re even gonna let us leave?” I asked.
​
Troy’s expression soured.
“Had to pay ‘em off…” He admitted, “Let them keep what was left of your friend. They considered it a fair trade, so long as we leave. Now, let’s go.”
I didn’t ask any more questions.
​
***
​
After I made it out of the sewers that day, I ended up in the hospital alongside Peter. I had some minor cuts and bruises, a burning rash over most of my body from all the sewage I’d been crawling around in… but I was still alive, and I figured that had to count for something.
​
Nobody said a word about what happened to Stewart Long down in the sewer. He got written off as a workplace accident and they never even tried to recover his body. I suspect what’s left of him is still down in the sewers, even now… feeding whatever it is that those things down there are cultivating, although I’ve never seen the body myself.
​
Yes… I have been back down beneath the southeast side of town. The next time they needed someone to go, they sent me and Tomas along with Troy, Craig and Peter. We know what’s down there and we know how to deal with them, after all. My second visit to those sewers was a lot less eventful, and most of my subsequent visits haven’t been all that eventful either.
​
Over the years, I’ve gotten better at dealing with the Spiders… they’re not the most friendly folk and I know all too well that if you cross them, they’ll rip your guts out before you even realize that you’re dead. But so long as you follow the rules and leave them alone, they’re content to live and let live. They can even be reasonable, to an extent. We’ve had a few small incidents over the years, but nothing like the one that Long caused.
​
Odds are, when Troy and Craig retire next year, Tomas and I will be training the next group on what to do when you’re down beneath the southeast side of town. So in preparation for that, I’ve made a point to keep a copy of Tom's rules in the pumphouse. I also keep a picture of Stewart Long in there. Not as a memorial and not out of spite either. Just as a grim reminder of what can happen when you don’t follow the rules.

I need urgent help with my 3-month old kitten. The post might end up being long, however, please do give it a minute to read. Any help would be highly appreciated.
The mother cat gave birth to 5 kittens on my terrace, however she abandoned one. We have been taking care of the one for the last 3 months now.
The kitten has thus far received a single dose of his rabies vaccine (20 days ago) and was due with his second dose on June 4th, 2023, however, the vet put it on hold because of the acute onset of symptoms he presented with.
4 days ago, he suddenly became quite lethargic and drowsy, while he was vomiting clear foamy puke every few hours (See attached email below). He had stopped eating or drinking. The frequency of vomiting then quickly increased from a few hours to every 40 minutes.
The vet then prescribed him Rantidine and Ondansetron (See prescription below) However, he puked it out an hour later. He was then given Tazol, Aciloc (H2 blocker) and Ondansetron, IV. He ended up throwing up two hours later. The vomit was then yellowish-foamy with speckles of blood, immediately followed by clear-foamy vomit (See attached email below). We considered he might be severe dehydrated, so we gave him electrolytes and glucose in water with a dropper. Then, he peed and took a dump for the first time in days, which was also quit liquidy and had speckles of blood.
The second visit to the vet then tested him for FPV (Feline Protoparvovirus). A faint pink like appeared in 10-minutes, which later got darker on 15-20 minutes mark. The vet also gave him antibiotics and fluids (Prescription attached, please refer to it). However, he is unsure if it’s FPV and has now ordered a CBC and ultrasound for any obstruction (to be tested today).
Another speculation of ours is if he could have gotten some form of GI infection from unrefrigerated Whiskas (Cat food-Ocean fish and Mackerel flavour).
We need to figure out exactly what’s wrong with him and the best course of treatment as currently, there exists no treatment for FPV, and once progressed, can be fatal.
He keeps retching, it is too painful to watch let alone even begin to imagine what it must be like for him.
Please help out a little baby!

I need urgent help with my 3-month old kitten. The post might end up being long, however, please do give it a minute to read. Any help would be highly appreciated.
The mother cat gave birth to 5 kittens on my terrace, however she abandoned one. We have been taking care of the one for the last 3 months now.
The kitten has thus far received a single dose of his rabies vaccine (20 days ago) and was due with his second dose on June 4th, 2023, however, the vet put it on hold because of the acute onset of symptoms he presented with.
4 days ago, he suddenly became quite lethargic and drowsy, while he was vomiting clear foamy puke every few hours. He had stopped eating or drinking. The frequency of vomiting then quickly increased from a few hours to every 40 minutes.
The vet then prescribed him Rantidine and Ondansetron. However, he puked it out an hour later. He was then given Tazol, Aciloc (H2 blocker) and Ondansetron, IV. He ended up throwing up two hours later. The vomit was then yellowish-foamy with speckles of blood, immediately followed by clear-foamy vomit. We considered he might be severe dehydrated, so we gave him electrolytes and glucose in water with a dropper. Then, he peed and took a dump for the first time in days, which was also quit liquidy and had speckles of blood.
The second visit to the vet then tested him for FPV (Feline Protoparvovirus). A faint pink like appeared in 10-minutes, which later got darker on 15-20 minutes mark. The vet also gave him antibiotics and fluids. However, he is unsure if it’s FPV and has now ordered a CBC and ultrasound for any obstruction (to be tested today).
Another speculation of ours is if he could have gotten some form of GI infection from unrefrigerated Whiskas (Cat food-Ocean fish and Mackerel flavour).
We need to figure out exactly what’s wrong with him and the best course of treatment as currently, there exists no treatment for FPV, and once progressed, can be fatal.
He keeps retching, it is too painful to watch let alone even begin to imagine what it must be like for him.
Please help out a little baby!

Hi vet professionals.
My dog (5yo Male Neutered AmBully/GSD mix) is super susceptible to skin & ear infections (has had chronic ones for the last year-ish and ear infections since he was around 6mo due to allergies). And with that has come another can of worms, hematomas.
Usually our vet recommends to monitor the hematoma and if it continues to grow, they recommend urgent/emergent care as they are usually booked out weeks+. Until now this has never been an issue.
Unfortunately I came home from work tonight and the hematoma went from being quarter sized to taking up 80-90% of his ear, plus there now seems to be an active ear infection. (No infection smell, but gunky & wet.)
All of our urgent care vets only operate during business hours, so are closed. And every emergent vet I called in the next town over (mine doesn’t have one) don’t consider him emergent enough compared to the cases already in their care & said to call back in a few hours.
I’m assuming this isn’t something that can wait a few weeks for a normal vet visit? I should keep trying the emergent vets, yes? This is probably dumb to even ask, but after the 4th phone call I started feeling discouraged and thinking I was making a bigger deal about it than it is. It just looks so gross, uncomfortable, and like it could rip at the seams if it got any bigger.
(I’d attach a pic but it says they aren’t allowed in this community.)

Here is chapter 16 of Tight Money.
Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the universe and allowing fan writers to join the fun.
Additional thanks to u/BiasMushroom, u/YakiTapioca, u/cruisingNW, u/SavingsSyllabub7788, u/YaaliAnnar, u/White_Dragon_Coranth, u/Illwood and u/Redundant-Honse for letting me use elements from their fanfics in mine.
Thanks to u/Zyrian150, u/Saint-Andros, and u/Eager_Question for proofreading this chapter.
Today, I have 3 character updates for you. We get to see good things happen to Leena and Dani and we get another update on what Niit is up to as well as revisiting some old characters and introducing a new one. This chapter was my first in collaboration with u/Eager_Question. We are doing a crossover for the next few chapters of Tight Money. A huge thanks to them for entirely changing the trajectory of my plans for Niit and Leena. I'm excited for where this is going.
I love your comments so please tell me what you think so I can get better or if you have suggestions for future snippets of life on Venlil Prime you would like to see me cover, leave it in the comments.
First Previous
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Memory transcription subject: Leena, Human Refugee Host
Date [standardized human time]: November 7, 2136
The smell of delectable food woke me up before my alarm – a sweet scent with a hint of roasted vegetables. My stomach demanded a meal, and glancing at the clock, I could see that I had some time before the twins would wake. Eagerly walking to the kitchen, I saw Dani had placed out all manner of items on the counter. She stood in front of her ‘hot plate,’ stirring a steaming pot that emanated the delightful aroma.
“Good morning, sleepy head!”
“Good waking, Dani. What are you up to with all those fruits and jars?”
“Well, you remember how I told you I was going to make some chalk for the neighborhood kids? That’s what I am doing right now – I'm making colored chalk! It's a fun DIY project. You see…”
“That did not translate correctly. The translator said, ‘letters of the English alphabet ask for clarification.’”
“Oh, it is an acronym that stands for the English words, ‘do it yourself.’ A lot of humans are pretty handy and have the skills to make the things that most people buy from a store. Sometimes they make things to save money, some do it for the challenge to see if they can, some do it because they want to customize something, and a lot of people do it because they enjoy doing it.”
“Like you said at our meal, this last paw.”
“Yeah! First, I slice up these fruits and vegetables into thin slices and boil them in water for [10 minutes]. The boiling process helps extract the natural pigments from the foods. Once I've boiled the fruits, I strain the colored water and keep it aside.”
Dani reached for a strainer and gently poured the steaming water into another pot and put that on the ‘hot plate.’ She set the slices of fire fruit on a plate and took a tentative bite out of a slice. I followed suit and to my delight, the fruit had a new mellower flavor with a hint of sweetness. Looking over the counter while I snacked on the boiled slices of Firefruit I got a better look at the jars of colored water and a few with colored powders.
“Okay, I'm following so far,” I pointed to one of the powder jars. “What are the powders for?”
“I’m doing an experiment. I want to see if I can use the pigment water as is or if I have to bake it to remove even more of the moisture in order to get a good color. I’ve never used these vegetables before so I need to do some trial and error to get this right.”
Dani had received a small strayu forge a few days ago in the mail and was putting it to good use making all manner of things except strayu. Honestly, I had no idea you could do anything else with them. Humans think of the strangest things. The forge dinged alerting her that it was done with whatever it was doing. She pulled out a tray of shriveled up Firefruit slices and transferred them to an empty plate. Dani laid several more fresh Firefruit slices on the trays and began the process anew.
“Dehydrated slices make wonderful snacks. Now, I take plaster,” Dani scooped some white powder into a cheap plastic bowl and poured in two scoops of the colored water, “and mix it with the colored water we obtained earlier. The plaster acts as a base and helps give the chalk a solid form.”
“Dani, that's so clever! So, the colored water gives the plaster its colors?”
“Exactly! The colored water mixes with the plaster, and we end up with a mixture that has the desired colors. Oh, and while I'm doing this, I'm also pouring the mixture into these silicone molds.”
I watched as Dani mixed the blue water and white powder until it turned into a light blue soup. Dani poured the liquid into the cavities of the flexible trays and scrunched up her face the way she did when she was unhappy or thinking.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, it is supposed to be a much deeper blue than this. I think I’ll have to find something else to make a better dye or try the powder method. Oh well, live and learn.”
Dani began to clean up just as my alarm went off, informing me that I needed to get the children ready and fed. When I came out of my room after feeding the twins and grooming their fur, Dani had finished cleaning the counter and sitting on the couch browsing on her tablet. She looked up as I sat down.
“You get your cast off today right?”
Peering at the clock on her tablet, “Yes, my appointment is in quarter a claw at the out-patient recovery facility. It is only a short ride away. Would you?” I passed the twins to Dani before I stood. “I need to get ready.”
“Come here little babies, let's play hide and peek-a-boo.”
A quick shower later and I returned to find Dani loading the twins into the stroller; still talking to them in her higher pitch and smiling. Nothing out of the ordinary about that but what was out of the ordinary was that Vissa and Tas were also showing their teeth. Not quite a smile but not for lack of trying. I wasn’t sure what to say about that. I didn’t want Dani to stop smiling at Vissa and Tas but that behavior worried me.
“Okay, we’re ready.” Dani reached in and tickled my children. When they were done laughing they ceased to show their teeth much to my relief.
“Dani, when I get the cast off and return this scooter, is there anything you would like to do? I would rather not go back home and sit down once I can walk again.”
Dani’s eyes sparkled at my suggestion. “I would love to see some of your museums and I read about these places where people can make communal art. Could you show me one of those?”
“I would love to.” I’m glad I can do something nice for you, after all you have done for me.
​
​
Memory transcription subject: Niit, Capitol Spaceport Logistics Coordinator
Date [standardized human time]: November 9, 2136
I was fortunate. Only three claws after I was fired from the spaceport a new job presented itself. It was a temporary job but it would give me time to find something permanent and help my job history. Getting fired looked worse than the contract ending. They had advertised that they needed someone to come in and finish a new facility. I wondered what happened to the last coordinator. I sent in my application, trying to highlight that I had some experience in procuring building materials for the maintenance of the spaceport hangars.
I was given an interview time for the following paw. That didn’t give me much time to prepare and the place was a bit out of the way. I had to take the train out to the outer ring of the Capital and then walk [20 minutes] more but at least it was easy to find; I could hear the construction a [kilometer] away. A yotul was outside watching the construction crews, obviously impressed with the advanced construction equipment.
“Excuse me,” I tried to be respectful and not shout, “could you direct me to the project manager's office?”
The yotul looked at me and then pointed to a series of temporary buildings in the distance.
“The furthest of the temporary dwellings on the right," he said, "it has a label on the door.”
“Thank you.” I waved my tail goodbye.
I walked over to the white construction shelter the yotul indicated and raised my paw to knock when the door slid open and a large, dark gray venlil appeared in the doorway. I froze in surprise as he looked me up and down with his left eye.
“Are you Niit?”
“Y-y…” I flicked my ear in affirmation.
“Come in.”
The gray venlil stepped inside and motioned to a swivel chair opposite a desk near the door. I took the seat opposite him at the desk and he opened a file with my application on his datapad. The office was a mess of binders, tools, and open cases of energy snacks and drinks; I assumed for the crew. A large map of the block hung on the wall.
"You can call me Foreman Apec or just Foreman is fine too. I'm so glad you could come on such short notice, this project is rather urgent and our last coordinator was poached by one of those ghastly flesh factories they're building now."
The very mention of those atrocious places nearly caused me to lose my lunch. “I-I’m so sorry to hear that. Well, I can guarantee you that I will not be leaving to work in such a place.”
"That's wonderful to hear. Tell me more about your experience, how comfortable are you handling tight schedules?"
“Oh, very, when I worked at the Capital Spaceport I had to manage several tight repair schedules regularly.” I hope he didn’t call Director Cass. I doubt he would give me a positive reference.
"Wonderful to hear. Like I said, we're rather in a rush to get this all done as soon as we can. The good news is that human laborers can work for two, sometimes three claws a shift, so we should be able to manage."
He stated that so nonchalantly, waving his tail around like it wasn’t the most ludicrous thing.
“T-three claws? They can work that long? No,” he’s joking, “You are pulling my ear. There’s no way anyone can work that long.”
Foreman Apec leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"I could scarcely believe it myself! Between you and me, I believe they're what you'd call persistence predators, but they're all hush hush about such things, you know. Anyhow,” he sat back and resumed the interview questions. “You mentioned repairs–I assume for starships-- do you have any experience with buildings?"
Persistence predators? I’ll have to look that up later, focus!
“Some, yes. I managed the construction of hangars 17 and 18 two [years] ago and the repairs to some of the buildings when debris fell after the successful defense against the arxur earlier this [year].”
"Fantastic! And, of course, while the position does not require you to interact with many humans, it'll likely come up due to the nature of the project. Are you comfortable with that?"
“I’ll manage.” It’s only temporary and I have my secret weapon now. Let's see them crawl inside me now. Ha!
"You should be fine. Older fellows like myself seem to struggle much more than youngsters like you, and I have my first meal with a human every paw now! I'm afraid the compensation on the ad is as high as we can go due to the budget, is that also alright?"
He flicked his tail apologetically.
“Yes, I’m grateful for the opportunity to gain experience in construction and try something other than starship repair.”
"Fantastic. When can you start?"
“I can start immediately, thank you!”
"Well, then you're hired! I'll send you an information package as soon as I can, and you can start at the next claw. As I said, we are quite strapped for time."
I rose, my tail wagged with joy, “I won’t let you down. I’m eager to see what this place will look like when it’s finished.”
"As am I. The whole thing has been mired in secrecy. You'll have to sign an agreement when you accept the contract, it'll be in your information package."
A secrecy agreement? What are the humans building here? “Oh… mysterious.” I tried to wave my tail playfully.
"Yes indeed! We'll be able to talk all about it once you sign on officially, but suffice it to say that the building plans are different from any I've ever seen."
The foreman walked around the desk and opened the door to escort me out. As I left, I turned one last time to reply.
“Well, I am eager to talk with you about it next claw.”
"Wonderful. Go, read through the package. Rest up. You'll need it."
​
​
Memory transcription subject: Krin, Capitol Extermination Officer
Date [standardized human time]: November 9, 2136
Driving to another abandoned home, looking for another poor warto spawn for trespassing. Probably gonna have drugs too; they all do. Rigel was driving the truck and seemed rather quiet, well, more quiet than usual.
“This is wrong, Krin. Evicting someone from an abandoned house just feels wrong.”
Rigel you are naive and too emotional. These people have already left the herd and need to shape up.
“I get where you're comin' from, Rigel, but it's our job. Can't let folks squat in places that ain't theirs.”
We were headed to the poorer part of the city. Clean streets but smaller houses; some no bigger than an apartment. The homes had an artificial feel to them, lacking any sort of wood or stone, just fillcrete walls and plastic doors. The road was getting bumpier with potholes in the rubber asphalt and frayed edges. The paint was nearly gone in some places and sunbleached in others.
“But it's rough out there, Krin. The economy's tanking, folks are losing their jobs, the banks aren’t making allowances…. Is throwing someone out really the answer?
For herd’s sake, “Look, Rigel, I feel for 'em, I do. But ya gotta think bigger. This squattin' stuff leads to more crime, drugs, theft, vandalism, urban decay. Ain't good for nobody. It’s a breeding ground for predator disease.”
“I get that, but it's hard not to sympathize. People are struggling. Maybe we could help them instead of evicting them?”
You want to help them so much, go be a social worker and see how much help you can give these people. Social services were drowning. Everyone knew that but with less revenue from fees and taxes, agencies had to make cuts. Everyone just had to make do.
“Help 'em how? We ain't social workers, Rigel. We got our hands full already and the owners are breathing down our necks when they should've taken care of this mess in the first place!”
“I know, Krin, but it just doesn't sit right with me. Can't help but think there's a better way to handle this.”
“We can't solve all the world's problems, Rigel. Our job is to keep the peace, not save everyone. It's tough, but that's reality.” The simple reality that ain’t so simple anymore, stupid humans.
“I just wish we could do more, you know? Feel like we're caught between a cliff and a shadestalker.”
“Trust me, Rigel, I feel it too. But we can't change the system overnight. Gotta focus on what we can control and do our jobs. Besides, no point thinkin’ about it anymore, we’re here.”
I stopped the car and got out. Officer Rigel checked the front door and it swung open. We entered the house, announcing ourselves as we went, but saw no one. The place was rather clean for a squat. If it wasn’t for the makeshift bed in one of the rooms and the inflatable birthday pool in the bathroom with a stack of towels, we wouldn’t have even known there was a squatter here.
“Looks like we came all this way for nothing.” The frustration in Officer Rigels voice mirrored my own.
The water in this pool was almost gone, the towels were dry and we didn’t find any paraphernalia. Whoever had been here, was long gone.
“Yeah, let's call it in and go back to the office.”
We climbed back into the truck and pulled out of the driveway. As I drove us back to the guild, we passed a disheveled man. Is that our squatter? I slowed the car and looked in the mirror, from behind I could see he was wearing a dirty safety vest and carrying a trash stick. No, he’s not a squatter. Glad I’m not that guy though. Sanitation work is not for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First Previous

So I play an exec who grew up as the son of two sovoil execs. As a kid he hated corps and saw firsthand what they did to people and society (he grew up during the 4th corporate war and his father was a typical corpo and horrible human being). He eventually left home to live on the streets and be an edgerunner, but a very traumatic event happened (his sister died and he thought it was his fault) which caused him to run back to his parents and be a good boy and become an exec at sovoil.
Fast forward about a decade to the present, he has just uncovered evidence that his sister's death was actually at the hands of petrochem as part of a feud with sovoil. A petrochem exec/team kidnapped his sister to use as ransom agaisnt his father, but sovoil essentially said "dont care the project is more important" and never told his father and just let petrochem kill her. He now realizes that he has been hating himself and living a life he never wanted for no reason, as it was all the fault of the corps, not him, all along.
I think it makes sense for him to now be hell bent on bringing down both petrochem and sovoil. I have some cool ideas on things he could do to work against petrochem (currently he is in contact with fiona hayes and has a lot of info about a certain petrochem project), and petrochem is already after his team for unrelated reasons so that makes sense, but the problem is that as soon as he does anything major against sovoil he'll be out of a job and hunted by both of these corporations. I'm having a hard time figuring out a life path he could take that would allow him to work against corps, as the exec role ability is inherently built around being supported by some corp. He could do something to hurt sovoil from the inside, but I'm not sure how specifically I would do that.

Jin returned with red eyes and a red face that was contradicted by a smile, it wasn’t a strong one, but it was there. “Thank you, Kayobi.” He said with that weak little smile growing a little bit stronger.
“Don’t sweat it, just pick up my cookies when I need it, maybe help clean my place when it gets to be a little too much, we call it even, yeah?” I asked with a smirk. “You know how I hate chores.” I opened my mouth and stuck my pointer finger into the gaping face hole, then made a quick gagging noise.
He blinked a few times, “Yeah, yeah, no problem, no problem. I’ll handle the close up, you can go ahead and go home.”
“Great, but how is she?” I asked as I grabbed my purse and a handful of purchases that I’d made over the course of the day.
“I think you probably can guess.” He answered, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Just get going, I’d rather not talk about it. I’d be happier if you just let me work for a while.” Jin gave me an urgent nod, and I shrugged in response.
“Alright, and hey, chin up, my boy. These things have a way of working themselves out.” I promised, and made my way out of the store to the sound of his quiet…
“Yeah, right…” Being repeated several times.
It was evening out, not dark-dark, but dark enough.
But there’s no amount of dark that can outdo a swapper’s sense for the evil eye, that sort of ‘instinct’ that tells you when you’re being watched.
I made a show of stretching and followed my instincts, and much to my total lack of surprise, there was a car up the street that was way too nice for the neighborhood. Sleak, black, dark tinted windows. ‘They really are efficient.’ I thought to myself and chose to linger outside my door and lean over the rail, just watching the sky grow darker. ‘They’ll probably figure out it had something to do with that store. I probably should have gotten rid of them after all…’
I shook my head at the thought, that was a last resort, I could leave that place alone, at least… probably. I doubted the old man was responsible, I felt the fear in his throat, the way it pulsed and saw the sweat beading on his bald head with enough quantity to make it shine like a polished cueball.
‘He would have reported to his boss, however. And it’s only natural they’d want to investigate. But then, they didn’t come by, they’re just watching for now.’ I thought about what that might mean. They weren’t totally stupid, at least.
Smart people are easier to work with than stupid people, they have a greater eye toward their own self interest. As I watched them out of the corner of my eye, careful to ensure none of them left the car to come and bother Jin, I contemplated my options.
“I really don’t want to work on my vacation, damn it!” I muttered and furrowed my brow.
They were still watching me. I could feel it.
That was a relief, the cool air caressed my skin, and it felt almost blissful.
I hadn’t meant to get so involved, I’ve spent years just trading little favors for doing my damn errands… ‘Now look at you… great job, Kayobi, great… great… job.’
This is probably the most troublesome part of being a swapper, we mimic other species so well that we take on their emotional capabilities and many of their mental faculties, and humans' sense of community is stronger than that of my species.
So what else was there for it but to go along with what had already happened?
When I watched Jin make his way to his apartment, I waved a warm “Goodnight.” to him, which he barely acknowledged, and then I went into my home.
But, I didn’t close the door, not all the way.
Instead… I swapped. My body shrank, grew fur, tiny ears, cute little paws, and when I opened my mouth, a squeak came out.
I raced out the crack in my door and down the steps, then went on a roundabout journey toward their car. There was no reason for them to be suspicious of a mouse, but even so, why tempt fate, right?
I scurried underneath their car and I went straight for the tire. I gave a quick bite after hardening my teeth enough, and the puncture was clean. I repeated the act three more times in quick succession. Each time I was rewarded by a tiny ‘hiss’ noise in the dark.
Up above, I could hear them talking. “They said no. Just observe. See if there’s anything strange, then go. We keep her under surveillance, that’s all.”
“Asking questions is faster.” His colleague in the passenger seat responded.
“Lots of things are fast, they’re not always good. We can take her any other night as good as now, if there’s nothing strange. And if there is, we were smart to be cautious.” The driver said, and I wiggled my ears.
With that kind of work ethic… ‘He might have been a decent swapper. Oh well.’ I thought, and bit through their break lines. I didn’t envy them sitting there the whole time… and I really didn’t like the idea of them lingering around my neighborhood.
So as soon as I was done, I scurried away out of view, off to a direction they weren’t watching, then I swapped again. This time into the form of a young human male, old enough to be out late, but not much else, and I started walking up the length of the sidewalk.
I paused when I got to their car, then stopped to stare.
They noticed me pretty quick, and the window on the passenger side came down. “Go home.” The meathead in the seat said.
I pretended to be startled, scared, and moved my mouth a few times before I could say anything.
“S-Sorry.” I said, “I ah, I was just going to t-tell you guys…” I swallowed the lump in my throat as if I were fearful of what they were.
“What?” The passenger asked.
“Your tires, they’re flat.” I said, “S-Sorry to bother you, I’ll go home!” I swore, and ran off into the darkness until I was well out of sight and I could turn and watch them.
The pair got out of the car and a string of swear words came out of their mouths a few moments later.
“This one’s popped, and so is this one… what about that side?” The driver asked.
“Both are out… we must have hit something…” The passenger concluded.
The swearing renewed, and when I’d snuck back into my apartment, I ‘swapped’ back into my usual form.
I chuckled while I listened to them cursing up a storm, they maybe had one spare, but not four. I didn’t want them to call a tow, though. So I stepped back outside with my own phone. [E’grahcrevo] I cast the spell in their direction, frying their electronics. Their cellphones were as good as bricked.
More cursing for them. More mirth for me.
As it was getting late in Shinjai, there was a logical, obvious choice after concluding I’d gone to bed. Drive away as far as they could, borrow a phone, and call for a ride home, leaving the car to be towed in the morning.
But, them being Yakuza, they would almost certainly report to whoever sent them out, which meant going to that building.
I dialed the connection number to our satellite and waited while the call was routed to Celia. I was rewarded by her face in its natural state. “Celia, hey, how are you?” I asked with a very human grin.
“Fine… just… you know.” She mumbled.
“Oh, well I can improve that a bit. How about you come hang out here with me for a few days.” I suggested.
“Wait, really?!” She asked, so stunned that she leaned back from her device.
“Yeah, well, listen it won’t be all day every day, I’m doing a favor for someone, but we’ll have all evening, and you can binge watch all the stuff I’ve been enjoying, you know, catch up with me some!” I gave her a wide, encouraging grin, “And there’ll be plenty of snacks, just convert some of your credits to gold and, well you know how I do it, but you can pick up whatever you want to eat, from the store I’m helping out at. Then we can relax after I get back.” I promised.
She shivered a little, and I knew excitement in my species when I saw it.
“I do need you to pick up one thing for me on your way here though, just a small errand, nothing big, and I’ll pay for it, of course. Just grab me one of the Q-42 xenocrystalization vials, would you?” I asked.
She blinked her eyes at me. “Are you just trying to get me to do one of your chores for you?” She asked.
I held up my thumb and forefinger to the screen and made the space between the two very tiny. “Just a little bit, I promise. But I really do want to hang out with you, I just can’t take the time to come all the way out there and fill out those damn requisition forms.
“Fine, I’ll fill out a form for you and pick it up, but you’d better pay me back as soon as I get there.” Celia insisted, “I’ll be there in a few days. Just don’t get into any mischief while I’m gone, alright?” She asked.
I couldn’t blame her for the question, after all, the X-42 vial had an extremely flexible fluid inside of it, and the sale of those was strictly limited.
“Celia,” I said with my face deadpan, “when have I ever gotten into shenanigans or mischief of any kind?”
She only looked blankly at me from her screen, tens of thousands of solar systems distant from myself, and…
I gave in.
“I withdraw the question.” I mumbled, “But under protest that the mischief and shenanigans were both worth it one hundred percent of the time.”
“Objection noted.” She responded, and hung up.
I laughed, then poked my head out of the door in time to watch the car start to roll away on three bad tires, after they’d evidently used the spare on the front right tire. It wouldn’t do much good, but I suppose it was better than nothing.
“Alright. Time for some more shenanigans.” I laughed to myself and after stepping out of view again, I swapped into the body of a bird and began to follow after them.

Sodom and Gomorrah

The IDF Bombs the Gaza Strip

Amidst the relentless chaos that engulfed the war-torn landscape of the Gaza strip, a frail figure cowered in the shadows of a dilapidated building. His name was Youssef, a ten-year-old boy whose innocent eyes had witnessed more horrors than any soul should endure. The thunderous rumble of distant airstrikes echoed through the night, a haunting symphony of destruction that filled his heart with fear.
Youssef's trembling body sought solace within the narrow confines of a decaying room, its cracked walls offering a meager shield against the merciless onslaught from above. The air was heavy with smoke, its acrid scent invading his senses, choking him with every breath. Desperation clenched his tiny fists, his knuckles pale against the darkened bruises of a life lived in constant peril.
As the building quivered under the force of each explosion, Youssef's heart pounded in synchrony with the violent tempest outside. His youthful imagination envisioned the world beyond his sanctuary reduced to rubble, his neighbors fleeing in a frenzied dance of survival. Through the cracks in the walls, he caught glimpses of the flickering flames that licked the heavens, a macabre ballet of destruction.
Fear clutched at Youssef's chest, constricting his breath and stifling his voice. He pressed his trembling body against the cold stone floor, seeking refuge in the darkness. His wide eyes darted about, searching for some semblance of hope amidst the merciless chaos. His mind conjured images of a brighter future, a land where laughter replaced the cries of anguish and the echoes of gunfire were but a distant memory.
Whispers of prayers slipped from Youssef's lips, an offering to whatever divine power may listen. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to find solace within the depths of his own mind. Memories of laughter-filled evenings with his family played like fragile film reels, temporarily shielding him from the horror outside. The familiar scent of his mother's cooking, the warmth of his father's embrace—these fragments of a life once lived provided a flicker of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.
But even in the sanctity of his hiding place, Youssef could not escape the deafening symphony of destruction. Each deafening explosion shattered the remnants of his fragile innocence, leaving behind fragments of despair that pierced his tender soul. The nights seemed eternal, their blackened canvas an unyielding reminder of the world's indifference.

Israeli Campaign Results

Operation Sacred Thunder culminated in the Gaza Strip bearing the harrowing scars of extensive Israeli aerial bombings, leaving no corner untouched by the relentless onslaught. Critical infrastructure, encompassing roads, buildings, and residences, lay in ruins as a result of the widespread devastation. Tragically, the relentless pursuit of objectives by Israel came at a significant cost, with numerous civilian lives lost amid the chaos.
Streets that once bustled with activity now lay desolate, marred by the aftermath of the Israeli airstrikes that pounded the region without respite. The intricate network of roads, once vital for transportation and the flow of goods, now resembled a nightmarish labyrinth of debris and impassable obstacles. What was once a lifeline for commerce and mobility now stands as a haunting testament to the destructive power unleashed. Buildings, representing the rich cultural heritage of the Gaza Strip, were reduced to mere fragments of their former grandeur. The architectural marvels that adorned the skyline now lay in ruins, shattered by the unyielding assault. This destruction not only devastates the physical landscape but also erodes the collective identity and historical narrative of the region. The residential areas of Gaza bore the brunt of the bombings, turning homes into scenes of unimaginable devastation. Once peaceful havens and symbols of familial bonds, these residences now lie in ruins, leaving families grappling with the anguish of displacement. The civilian casualties incurred during Operation Sacred Thunder bear witness to the profound human cost exacted by this relentless pursuit of objectives.
However, the results did show some success. Mossad reported 4 weeks into the campaign that they had killed Marwan Issa, leader of the Izz ad-Din al-Qassam Brigades. Soon, officials from Palestine and Gaza reported the same, remembering Marwan Issa as a hero. News of Marwan Issa's purported death rippled through the Palestinian population, evoking a cascade of contrasting emotions. Due to his death in the campaign, in the annals of Palestinian struggle, his name became synonymous with unyielding determination. To many Palestinians, Marwan Issa personified a life steeped in the fight for Palestinian rights and self-determination.
After the bombing campaign began, Hezbollah responded against the Israeli forces with their own coordinated missile response using Iranian supplied missiles. Even though Israel had increased their surface to air defenses along their country, the missiles saw relative success. Most notably, a swarm of Fateh 360 and Fajr-5 missiles, a volume that had not been seen before in a simultaneous strike, saw the successful destruction of many valuable sensors at the Mount Avital SIGINT Base the deaths of 33 Israeli servicemen. Although a follow up barrage was attempted against Israeli airbases, these strikes were less effective. Only stray rockets and missiles passed through Israeli air defenses, with only 2 deaths and 5 injuries encompassing the rest of the strikes.

Summary:

Israel: 35 dead
Hamas: ~200 dead according to Israeli sources, ~50 dead according to Palestine sources
Civillians: ~30 dead according to Israeli sources, ~250 dead according to Palestine sources, ~170 dead according to international monitors

International Response

The international community has responded to the widespread destruction with large-scale condemnation, denouncing the Israeli bombings in the strongest terms. Numerous nations, human rights organizations, and global leaders have expressed outrage at the disproportionate use of force and the resulting civilian casualties. Calls for accountability, independent investigations, and immediate humanitarian assistance have resounded across the globe, underscoring the urgent need for a comprehensive response to address the crisis.
The following countries released an official response:
Saudi Arabia:

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia condemns the recent wave of Israeli airstrikes that have targeted the Gaza Strip. We express our deep concern and solidarity with the Palestinian people, who have endured immense suffering and tragic loss of life as a result of these relentless attacks. The destruction of vital infrastructure, including roads, buildings, and residential areas, exacerbates the already dire humanitarian crisis and hampers any prospects for stability and progress in the region.
It is crucial for the international community to take a resolute stance against these blatant violations of international law and to call for an immediate cessation of hostilities. We urge all parties involved to engage in meaningful dialogue and to pursue a peaceful resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The cycle of violence and the suffering endured by innocent civilians must be brought to an end.

Jordan:

The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan expresses its unequivocal condemnation of the recent Israeli airstrikes targeting the Gaza Strip. We stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people, who have endured unimaginable suffering and loss as a result of these relentless and disproportionate attacks. Jordan remains deeply concerned about the grave humanitarian situation and the escalating violence, and we call for an immediate cessation of hostilities to prevent further loss of innocent lives.
As a neighbor and a country deeply invested in regional stability, Jordan will continue its unwavering support for the Palestinian cause. We reaffirm our commitment to a two-state solution, with an independent and viable Palestinian state based on the pre-1967 borders, and with East Jerusalem as its capital. Jordan calls upon the international community to intensify its efforts to end the cycle of violence and to create an environment conducive to peace negotiations, based on international legitimacy and the relevant UN resolutions.

Bahrain:

The Kingdom of Bahrain categorically denounces the recent Israeli airstrikes carried out in the Gaza Strip. We express our deep concern and unwavering solidarity with the Palestinian people, who have endured immense suffering and tragic loss as a result of these indiscriminate and disproportional assaults. Bahrain firmly rejects any acts of violence targeting innocent civilians and reiterates its urgent call for an immediate cessation of hostilities to prevent further harm.

Egypt:

Egypt expresses grave concern over the Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, condemning the escalating violence and mourning the tragic loss of innocent lives. As a committed mediator between Israel and the Palestinians, Egypt underscores the urgent need for an immediate halt to the hostilities. The country reaffirms its steadfast support for a two-state solution, emphasizing the necessity of engaging in meaningful negotiations to achieve a lasting peace. Egypt will continue its efforts to de-escalate the situation, working tirelessly towards a comprehensive resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Additionally, Egypt highlights the paramount importance of providing humanitarian assistance to those affected and actively participating in reconstruction initiatives to alleviate the suffering of the Palestinian population.

Qatar:

Qatar vehemently condemns the Israeli airstrikes in Gaza and expresses deep anguish over the escalating violence and the alarming loss of innocent lives. The country stands in unwavering solidarity with the Palestinian people, reaffirming its staunch support for their just cause. Qatar urgently calls for an immediate cessation of hostilities, stressing the critical need for the international community to take swift and resolute action to address the underlying causes of the conflict. Furthermore, Qatar pledges its unwavering commitment to providing humanitarian aid and actively participating in reconstruction efforts, aiming to alleviate the immense suffering endured by the Palestinian population.

Syria:

Syria vehemently condemns the relentless Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, expressing profound outrage over the escalating violence and the devastating loss of innocent lives. The country's solidarity with the Palestinian people remains unwavering, grounded in its deep-rooted commitment to their cause. Syria urgently calls for an immediate cessation of aggression, highlighting the imperative of lifting the Israeli blockade on Gaza. Underscoring the significance of international solidarity, Syria implores the global community to take decisive steps to address the dire humanitarian crisis and work tirelessly towards a comprehensive and just resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Syria also reiterates its steadfast support for Palestinian resistance groups and their legitimate struggle for freedom and self-determination.
Israel cannot get away with indiscriminately bombing civilians without thought or care. Israel cannot escape accountability for its indiscriminate bombings that have targeted innocent civilians without regard for their safety and well-being. The relentless bombardment of residential areas and vital infrastructure demonstrates a blatant disregard for human life and raises serious concerns about the principles of proportionality and distinction in armed conflicts.

Oman:

Oman deplores the Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, denouncing the intolerable violence and tragic loss of innocent lives. The country's solidarity with the Palestinian people remains resolute, driven by its unwavering commitment to justice and lasting peace. Oman urgently calls for an immediate end to the hostilities, emphasizing the necessity of engaging in sincere dialogue and negotiations to achieve a two-state solution based on the pre-1967 borders. As a testament to its unwavering support, Oman vows to continue its efforts in providing humanitarian assistance and actively contributing to initiatives aimed at rebuilding Gaza, alleviating the hardships faced by the Palestinian population.

Tunisia:

Tunisia strongly condemns the abhorrent Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, expressing profound concern for the escalating violence and the grave loss of innocent lives. The country's unwavering support for the Palestinian cause remains steadfast, underpinned by its firm belief in justice and human rights. Tunisia urgently calls for an immediate halt to the hostilities, advocating for a comprehensive and equitable resolution to the conflict. Emphasizing the need for international solidarity, Tunisia appeals to the global community to take concrete actions to hold Israel accountable for its violations of international law. Moreover, Tunisia reaffirms its unwavering commitment to championing the legitimate rights of the Palestinian people.

Iraq:

Iraq strongly denounces the egregious Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, condemning the escalating violence and mourning the tragic loss of innocent lives. The country's steadfast support for the Palestinian people remains resolute, guided by its unwavering commitment to justice and dignity. Iraq urgently calls for an immediate end to the hostilities, emphasizing the imperative of meaningful dialogue and negotiations to achieve a comprehensive and just resolution to the conflict.

Libya:

Libya unequivocally condemns the reprehensible Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, expressing deep distress over the intensifying violence and the distressing loss of innocent lives. The country's unwavering support for the Palestinian cause remains unyielding, grounded in its commitment to justice and human rights. Libya urgently calls for an immediate cessation of the aggression, emphasizing the imperative of a comprehensive and just resolution to the conflict. Libya advocates for the establishment of an independent Palestinian state with East Jerusalem as its capital, and the right of return for Palestinian refugees. Libya implores the international community to assume its responsibility in protecting the Palestinian people and intensify efforts to achieve a sustainable and equitable peace in the region.

Not sure why a post designed to inform my community was down voted. But good for you.. whoever you are...
Obviously it's still really early.
Bur I will update this as I go along. I arrived at PDX in Portland on the afternoon of Sunday June 4th. I had not planned on renting a car for this week, but instead using Uber.
Well mid day on a Sunday Uber was a minimum of $68.00 usd. Doing some quick math and realizing that is equivalent to a full tank of fuel for my four door Jeep Wrangler I opted out. I asked one of the airport help people if there was a restaurant or lounge I could sit in and wait for high time to go down. Now I realize, but the time I order a meal and fries, I'd have probably made up the difference in cost anyway, but for me it was a matter of principal. They airport man suggested the train, which is $1.25 for half a day or $2.50 for a full day. I took the train as it was scenic.
After a 45 minute journey, I arrived at my hotel, Hotel Roae by Stay Pineapple. It's pretty cute and everything has a pineapple theme. 🍍 They allow dogs if you have a furry companion to join you. My room wasn't ready immediately so they held my bags and I went exploring. I went to the Portland City Rose Festival across the street. It was $15.00, entry with re-entry allowed. Lots of carnival food so instead I went to Paddy's Pub for nachos, they weren't great and the service was soso. Honestly I think I'd have enjoyed the carnival food more.
Later on I went for a walk and took some photos. Went to the Target and bought myself some yogurt, milk for tea, and drinks. I had dinner at Hubers, the oldest Cafe in Portland, the service was wonderful, the waiter was friendly and made brilliant recommendations. I had an American Style Thanks Giving Dinner, not what I am used to, but so yummy! Also bread with butter, a coffee and brownie fot dessert. Now I don't know about Texas, but based on this brownie, they're much bigger in Portland!
The next day, Monday June 5th, I had my 09:00am pre op with Dr Thomas. I finally met Estelle and Jonica, now I've seen them both and can pick up on the differences in their voice, I know who is who! Dr Thomas was really nice. I can see how some people might not click with him, but I totally did. I think it's because he is a very analytical and scientific person. I appreciated his honestly and bluntness. I definitely feel he was the right choice. The office is so cute and has plants so felt right at home. These clinical, white marble floors lab places make me feel like I'm in a Resident Evil film.. Not the games but the films. ("She's mutating, I want her in the Nemesis Program.") Sorry I'm a nerd.
So, following pre op I had breakfast, then went to my hotel to wash my hair and do my make up. I then went exploring I met loads of people I chatted to, I love how friendly people are here.
By 7:00 my friend and care giver while surgery is happening arrived. We put his bag in the hotel and then got dinner. Buffalo Wild Wings, because it shut down where we live. The service was.. not great. After that we went to the hotel, cleaned up and slept.
Then today, Tusaday June 6th we Uber to the Wilshire Surgery Centre, it felt like it was over in a jiffy, now I just cannot talk for two weeks.
More to come soon!

Obviously it's still really early.
Bur I will update this as I go along. I arrived at PDX in Portland on the afternoon of Sunday June 4th. I had not planned on renting a car for this week, but instead using Uber.
Well mid day on a Sunday Uber was a minimum of $68.00 usd. Doing some quick math and realizing that is equivalent to a full tank of fuel for my four door Jeep Wrangler I opted out. I asked one of the airport help people if there was a restaurant or lounge I could sit in and wait for high time to go down. Now I realize, but the time I order a meal and fries, I'd have probably made up the difference in cost anyway, but for me it was a matter of principal. They airport man suggested the train, which is $1.25 for half a day or $2.50 for a full day. I took the train as it was scenic.
After a 45 minute journey, I arrived at my hotel, Hotel Roae by Stay Pineapple. It's pretty cute and everything has a pineapple theme. 🍍 They allow dogs if you have a furry companion to join you. My room wasn't ready immediately so they held my bags and I went exploring. I went to the Portland City Rose Festival across the street. It was $15.00, entry with re-entry allowed. Lots of carnival food so instead I went to Paddy's Pub for nachos, they weren't great and the service was soso. Honestly I think I'd have enjoyed the carnival food more.
Later on I went for a walk and took some photos. Went to the Target and bought myself some yogurt, milk for tea, and drinks. I had dinner at Hubers, the oldest Cafe in Portland, the service was wonderful, the waiter was friendly and made brilliant recommendations. I had an American Style Thanks Giving Dinner, not what I am used to, but so yummy! Also bread with butter, a coffee and brownie fot dessert. Now I don't know about Texas, but based on this brownie, they're much bigger in Portland!
The next day, Monday June 5th, I had my 09:00am pre op with Dr Thomas. I finally met Estelle and Jonica, now I've seen them both and can pick up on the differences in their voice, I know who is who! Dr Thomas was really nice. I can see how some people might not click with him, but I totally did. I think it's because he is a very analytical and scientific person. I appreciated his honestly and bluntness. I definitely feel he was the right choice. The office is so cute and has plants so felt right at home. These clinical, white marble floors lab places make me feel like I'm in a Resident Evil film.. Not the games but the films. ("She's mutating, I want her in the Nemesis Program.") Sorry I'm a nerd.
So, following pre op I had breakfast, then went to my hotel to wash my hair and do my make up. I then went exploring I met loads of people I chatted to, I love how friendly people are here.
By 7:00 my friend and care giver while surgery is happening arrived. We put his bag in the hotel and then got dinner. Buffalo Wild Wings, because it shut down where we live. The service was.. not great. After that we went to the hotel, cleaned up and slept.
Then today, Tusaday June 6th we Uber to the Wilshire Surgery Centre, it felt like it was over in a jiffy, now I just cannot talk for two weeks.
More to come soon!