Hey guys, writing a very, very short novella for a competition (max word limit, only 5k) that's worth some money (6k) as its top prize. This is the first novella I'm writing, so I really need to see the general perception with some writers. To those willing to read the entire chunk, really love you guys!
Concept:
Humans are characters resulted from a film production studio in a 121 dimensional world (11 dimensions of our universe²⁾ universe is essentially the worldbuilding from their POV. However, since these beings are advanced in nature, they don't really control the character every second, but rather build their circumstances/situations along with their character itself. Once the character is built it has free will in it's own . Conflict only comes if their thoughts collide with situations, which why people IRL are never happy all the time. The studio works in a hierarchical structure; the head (known as the Author), regional heads (labelled by the galaxies, systems followed by the planets etc.) and finally the actual authors an architect like you see in Inception. Of course this studio is like an MNC (of a cinematic universe), churning out programs/shows/films/featurettes of nearly all interesting characters (usually heroic arcs, heartwarming stories, friendly and positive in general). After crafting the show, it goes through general editing and post production before being released. Regarding time, it's not a factor in this universe as the concept is only present in this cinematic universe, hence despite the interactions with a certain architect's characters with the others arisen from the situations, it's not relevant and in fact recommended for the dramatic appeal (daily lives we face are dramatic lol).
I have a lot to explain regarding the worldbuilding and characterization, unfortunately exposure to the stops at where the bold text ends.
Would the bold text be intriguing enough for the reader to read, without asking too many questions?
In addition, here's my synopsis. Tell me if it's too cliché/ or Shyamalan-like (especially the twist)
Synopsis:
The current author is facing a crisis in his company Esoteria when ratings drop, till one of his regional (guess, from Earth. Fashion is what you would see in a Wes Anderson film lmao.) intervenes with a possible new plot as a focus ahead of their cinematic universe. In the past they focused on popular coming-of-hero arcs(again, dramatic effect) but why not a normal struggling individual, something the author is looking for. Hence, they veer further into a story of a student (below, 2nd Para). However, for the first time in ages, he intends to use the Rultrappa (a passage that transports into the simulated world) to understand the character better (at least what the reader and the others around him thought). However he's tired of positive arcs overall. He just wants that universe burn, in a desperate attempt to bring his company back to the top.
A student with dyspraxia (he doesn't know though) is unable to fit into his school, as he faces challenges with peers and his confidence that he's just incapable. After a horror event when presenting his project on stage, he feels overwhelmed and goes missing (to his friends and family). However we follow the student where he rests on his favourite spot where he finds a mysterious sphere known as the Malfrost. The explosion of the Malfrost leads him to an isolated cottage where he encounters the Author. To escape (without consequences), he has to pass the test. However, the situation becomes real enough when a suprise twist comes in.
Spoilers:
>! His best friend, in a twist of fate who goes in search of him knowing the spot he likes, gets killed after protagonist exits !<
I know it's some weird ass blend of Truman Show/Matrix/Some random Shyamalan film, comments?

I currently go to Planet Fitness in Clifton and there's never enough equipment, its always hard to get a workout because the machines/ weights/ cable towers are occupied, but there are a ton of treadmills. But I do like that its cheap ($10/mo) and there are no personal trainers trying to sell you their workout or upselling at the gym. I was looking for somewhere else to go and wanted to know if you good people had any rec's. From Yelp it looks like the LA Fitness sucks, but what about the other gyms in Essex county? Thanks.

For whatever reason, there seem to be a lot of misconceptions about what Kendra was going to do with the Marker in the remake. Whenever the question gets asked, many people respond that she's now a rogue agent that's going against the government, or that her objective was changed in the remake from delivering the Marker to EarthGov to "hiding it on another planet", which... makes no sense and isn't supported by anything she says.
Kendra's mission wasn't changed in the remake. It's exactly the same as in the original game. From what I can tell, this misconception stems from one of her lines to Isaac: "It was disappeared once, we can do it again". Some people take this line to mean that she's referring to the Marker and that that's what she's going to do: make the Marker disappear on another planet. But this entirely ignores the context of that line, which is pretty blatantly that she's not referring to the Marker, but rather to Aegis VII, in response to what Isaac says directly beforehand.
Kendra's "It was disappeared once" is said in response to Isaac telling her: "Damn it, we have to return the Marker! If anyone else stumbles across Aegis VII--" before she cuts him off. Isaac is completely convinced that the best course of action is to return the Marker to make the Hive Mind go back to sleep so that it doesn't cause harm to anyone else who stumbles across Aegis VII, but Kendra cuts him off and quickly assures him that the planet was disappeared once, and they can make it disappear again, so the Hive Mind being left active doesn't matter.
She's not referring to the Marker. In fact, if her objective was to make it disappear like people claim, then why would she say the Valor was going "help [her] out like [she] wanted", when the Valor's primary objective was to secure the Marker, and only once the Marker was secured, they were to use their nuke to blow up the rest? Surely if EarthGov and Kendra just wanted the Marker to disappear, then their primary objective would be to destroy the whole thing, not secure it?
Isaac even shouts to her that "Your experiment's gonna kill us all!" as she's leaving. The remake didn't change anything about her actual mission, just her way of completing said mission: Kendra is now a lot more reasonable and genuinely believes the government is best equipped to contain the Marker, that the Marker will be in "safe hands" with them. Not only does her supposed mission of "hiding the Marker elsewhere" make no sense considering what the game tells us, it also makes no sense considering what EarthGov is trying to do in the sequels, which we know the remake was written to fit better with.

I filled up my bottle, took it home, and put it in the fridge to cool. After that, it definitely still had a distinct taste. Do Planet Fitness locations have a water softener or reverse osmosis filter?

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The maw of the moss-wolf chomped down on the treat, its partner patiently waiting its turn, an eye trained on the Human providing the sustenance. Joseph reached into the pouch, counting out what he had left and mentally setting a few aside for the raven-like birds that Scarlet had trained to bother him.
Well, ‘bother’ might be a strong word. They would whistle at him and wait for food. Upon getting their hard sought quarry, they would return to share it with the rest. Surprisingly cooperative, all things considered. Scarlet had apparently been getting them to associate certain short melodies with members of the pack, allowing her to send the avians after whoever she wanted for more snacks.
If they didn’t get any, then they would yell something not dissimilar to a caw until either food was procured, or they grew bored. Given that they had taken to humouring Violet in her attempts to be a mobile perch, that usually took a while.
It drove Nalah nuts, which seemed to be part of the reason the blond-furred female was included in the ritual at all. Harrow was apparently the favourite target of the nuisance when she was outside the base, but he couldn’t say why.
The tell-tale scratching had been somewhat muted since the shift in medium, but Violet’s writing was always something he kept an ear out for, his daughter presenting her tablet excitedly. [It blinked!]
He turned his head to the cow-looking thing, the unwavering stare held until he gave up. “I swear you guys are just messing with me.”
“Or we merely enjoy your suffering,” Sahari suggested with a smirk, the black-furred female standing taller than him for a moment as she stretched her legs out. Settling into a height that was level with him, she attempted to offer the wolves food. Receiving a fearful retreat instead, the black-furred female frowned, the two canines shifting in their enclosure to be closer to Joseph and Violet. “They still seem to distrust any but yourselves.”
He shrugged, taking the scrap from her and giving it to the young Atmo to pass along, her chittering laugh when the wolves accepted the morsel breaking the soft sound of trickling rain outside the barn. “Faye was the one who started this. I guess they treat her like an alpha of sorts, and seeing her bow to the two of us so often told them that she’s lower on the pole. That’s my guess, anyway.”
“That is….rather intelligent of them, if so,” Sahari commented pensively.
The Grand Hunter tipped his head in agreement. If anything, it was an understatement. The six-legged canines were remarkably receptive to taming, though he couldn’t say how much of that was due to Faye taking to his suggestion so seriously. He had only offered it as a passing thought, but she had set to it like their god had mandated it.
He fought back a sigh at the reminder of his placement in the whole thing, his foot kicking the ground to adjust the new sandals he was wearing until Pan finished proper shoes.
One day, he was a divorcee flirting with random women on a cruise ship so that the rejection validated his own self-esteem issues. The next, he was a guy in charge of a settlement nearing one hundred people and had become a manifestation of religion condensed into the form of some random moron.
He snorted at a morbid thought. How would Emma react to his ‘rise to fame?’ His acquisition of more than they had ever thought for themselves back on Earth?
Owning a territory? They could only manage a nice apartment that could fit several times over inside the base. Friends? Hell, he had a group of people who have helped him through some of the worst the planet had to offer. Kids...well, nothing could replace Violet. He doubted Emma would see it the same way, though.
A paw enclosed his shoulder, dragging his mind from more sombre thoughts. It had been quite a while since everything fell through and he had moved on, but it still stung every now and again.
“What ails your mind, Joseph?” Sahari asked with a concerned inflection. He looked over at her, a smile becoming easier after a moment.
“Just wondering how my ex-wife would react to seeing what I’ve turned into. What she’d say to all of this,” he admitted honestly with a wide gesture to everything. She patted his back, a small pride in her gaze.
“You continue to heal, Grand Hunter, but you are still scarred. Your previous mate would curse her decisions were she to see what you have accomplished.”
He snorted, a wide dry grin breaking out. “I’d love to see her face going back with two alien wives and this sweetheart as a daughter,” he teased, giving Violet a thorough rub on the head. She purred, chittering between breaths as she fought off the rough affection playfully while keeping her blades tucked for safety.
The black-furred female tilted her head and shifted her weight to her other foot. “You’ve mentioned that there is a specific procedure for binding the lives of your people, no?”
He blinked, his mind flickering to the two rings he had prepared, yet held some modicum of expectation around before he whipped them out. Not least of all was the foreign sensation of doing it again twice, nor finding an appropriate time to do it. It was hard to pick a picturesque moment when each day was paperwork, punching people in the face during spars, and orchestrating the well-being of such a large group. Given that the closest thing he could get to a romantic occasion was laying down on the grass while Nalah barked orders at the construction crews in the distance, he didn’t feel like it was ever a good time to ask. It was even harder picturing himself doing it to the two of them, as if it cheapened the gesture in some way.
Then there was the part of himself that feared rejection—as stupid as it sounded. They could deny the alien practice, not share the same sentiment, or any number of disagreements that would render him kneeling like an idiot. As unlikely as it was, it could even be too great a commitment for them, the implication of their entire lives being pledged solely to him being a crushing weight, rather than a promise of mutual loving dedication.
Sure, now they were speaking as if it was the case, but the circumstances as they were lent themselves to it being a product of necessity. Who was to say that it would remain the same once they got off this rock and—hopefully—in touch with their own people again. Would they still feel the same way with an entire species back on the table as possible romantic partners? Would he still be enough?
“Joseph,” Sahari called out with worry and irritation in equal parts. “You are making me anxious.”
“Hm? Oh, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he was reminded that more than one person could be afflicted by his emotional state. She placed a paw to her hip.
“Are the proceedings really such a means for strife?”
“Ah, no, it’s just…” He averted his eyes, offering Violet a token smile when she seemed to be concerned about him. He inhaled deeply. “It’s just…I have reservations about it.”
She raised a brow. “I need not a bond to know you care for them deeply enough to toss your life to the Void for them.”
His weak smile faltered further. “Well, yeah. They mean everything to me, but I cant help but remember how things went last time, I guess. There’s a million and one ways it could go up in smoke, and I…” He fell quiet for a moment, Violet pressing herself into his side in an attempt to cheer him up. He rested a hand against her back, the texture comforting in a way. “I want it to be an important moment in our lives, rather than some disposable token that they accept without thinking much. It’s not like they’re swimming in potential romantic partners here, so it feels like they’d be agreeing for lack of options.”
She stared at him with a hesitant expression, her cheek pinched between her teeth and eyes narrowed in thought. “Pan would sooner end her own life than be separated from you, and Tel would end any who so much as suggested such,” she stated finally. “To you, the mark upon your flesh is but a sting that fades. To them, it is their declaration that they have found their reason to live. A declaration that is shown to all others of our people the moment they draw near. Though Pan lacks the means to impart her own, she is rather pleased that another is able to in her stead and treats it as her own for all intents.”
She grabbed him roughly by the arm, pulling him into her breast as she stood to her full height, a surprised yelp stifled by soft clothing and fur.
“Unfortunately for you, openly voiced or not, we all feel as such. Though you bear not the mark of everyone in the den, I assure you that to be removed from you would leave us lesser, regardless of bond.”
He shut his mouth at the last addition. There was a weight behind knowing that people were likely to simply give up on living if you were away for too long. It put the relationship in front of a loaded gun for both parties. They couldn’t afford to break it off from him because existing would become a living hell, and he couldn’t change his mind for any reason because it would be the same as killing them.
What kind of marriage was one built upon such fragile pillars? How could they be happy when every fight was tempered by the threat of the end of everything? What about Sahari? Could she ever pursue her own life with Nalah when she had the bond shackling her to him? How long until that became a stinging poison, rotting away the veins and arteries of her psyche? How long until death became preferable to being around him?
A strong impact to his stomach winded him, though the unnoticed hyperventilating left him little to eject as he fell to his knees. Violet clicked in surprise, the wolves backing away at the unexpected violence.
He coughed, sputtering spittle as he fought the urge to evacuate his breakfast. A pained glance up revealed Sahari still clutching a fist, her expression just as hurt.
“You hear my words and twist them, Joseph,” she chastised softly, crouching to look at him better. “We pledged our lives to you. Not because we had no choice, but because we believed you to be our future. From that moment on, our desire was to remain with you.” Her voice grew weak, almost pleading. She placed her forehead to his, the contact an intimate touch. “Your experiences may suggest our bond a prison, but for us, it is an ambrosia for our soul. It completes us like no equal. Jax and Harrow care for you immensely, Nalah and myself owe you everything that we are, and your mates will fight the Hunt Mother herself if it would mean even one more sun with you.”
He found himself speechless, wading through the emotions behind her words a syllable at a time. The feeling of Violet pressing into his back in an embrace stung as much as soothed, his mind rejecting the idea, yet so desperate to accept it.
“Do not desecrate our affections because you had been scorned by one who did not see within you that which we covet,” she implored sombrely, raw emotion oozing through the confines of speech. “Though you doubt it, none would know how much value you place in the ‘mark’ of your people more than your mates. If merely thinking about the unlikely event that they refuse tortures you so deeply, than the elation they would share with you when they agree would likely see Pan unable to contain herself for many suns after.”
He stayed on his knees, the warmth surrounding him from both sides seeping within and thawing the frozen excuses he held onto to prevent exposing himself to potential rejection. Every step of the way since he had met them, it had made him fearful of losing their company. At first, the thought of being left alone to brave the planet was too much to bear, but he would try. Now? Now he felt like he understood where the minds of those bonded Lilhuns had been. Even considering being away from his new loved ones pulled at a primal part of himself, each tug stronger than the last, each suggestion fanning the flames barricaded behind morals—the depths he would trudge to see it never come to pass.
Sahari nuzzled into his neck for a moment before parting, a somewhat satisfied smile given towards the emotionally fragile Human they had taken to depending on. He returned his own, though it was tinted with a bit of embarrassment.
Violet stepped back to allow him room to stand, the extended joint of her blade asking to be held like he did with her adoptive mother. His expression softening, he did as requested, lightly rubbing the smooth surface with his thumb. It soothed a part of him to be holding his daughter’s ‘hand’ while they watched the wolves slowly approach the front of their enclosure again, now that the momentary intensity had faded.
With a self-deprecating roll of his eyes, he nodded, promising himself to follow through with his small wish the next time the chance revealed itself. It didn’t need to be perfect, but it would be nice if it was at least private. The dull ache in his stomach would be a reminder not to second guess himself anyway.
The wolves yipped, ignoring Sahari as they moved towards the other corner. Joseph glanced at where they were focused, his curious gaze replaced by surprise, then shock.
Raine supported Faye over her shoulder, the deep gold-furred female’s breath short as she rested her weight over her brown-furred counterpart, their black leather coats dripping water onto the floor as it wrapped tightly around them, concealing their armour. A steady trickle of blood flowed from a long gash on Faye’s leg, her free arm clutching across her breast to keep her coat closed.
Without waiting for either to speak, he ran to pick up the Wraith, slinging her across his shoulders and tearing off to the base. He could barely hear Sahari over the rain and his own blood pounding through his ears, his heart hammering in his chest. Though they had established something of a clinic for minor injuries that were sustained constantly, his singular focus was getting Faye into the medbay.
Pack members cleared the way, some jumping to the side as he barrelled through the sparely populated routes between home and workplace. More than one tripped over themselves in shock, the Human never having a reason to go at a full sprint before. He was slower than a Lilhun like this, but he could make it the full distance before them. He didn’t need to slow down.
Harrow pushed open the doors to the hub, her distant expression as she examined thin ironwood tablets perking, his rapid heavy footfalls telling of his arrival before she had the chance to see him. Her eyes lit up, her brows furrowed, and a hurried pull of the door kept it open for him, all in sequence. He didn’t have the spare breath to explain or thank her.
The orange-furred female bolted across the hub, slamming into the crash-bar installed into the facilities wing entrance to force it open, only barely outpacing the Grand Hunter in his rush. She staggered to her feet behind him, rushing to collect herself and assisting in tearing the pants off of the injured female when Joseph laid her on the bed.
Modesty being the least of his concerns, he braced an arm across her pelvis to stop her hips from bucking as Harrow wiped off any dried blood to see the extent of the damage on her thigh.
“What happened?”
He tightened his hold on Faye as his friend tentatively spread the wound to check for debris. “Don’t know. Didn’t ask. Saw her bleeding, rushed her here,” he answered through deep breaths, each strike of his adrenaline-fuelled heart pressing against his lung capacity.
Harrow frowned, grabbing some sterile water to pour over the wound and picking out a stray splinter of wood that looked to be from her missing leg armour. Faye let out a small whine, but didn’t have it in her to talk yet, signs of exhaustion and pain unfocusing her eyes.
The Head of Technology—and current medical expert in the room—pursed her lips against her muzzle. “We need to stitch it. It’s too big for just healroot.”
Joseph nodded, easing his weight off the Wraith and wiping his sweat from his brow. “Pan!”
Noticing the urgency in his voice, he could hear her throw the door to the sewing room wide open and jog to the medbay, her wide eyes steeling as she assessed the situation.
“Idee with you?”
She nodded, ears turned perfectly towards him.
“One of you boil off some palm string, the other sterilize the thinnest quill you can get away stitching a wound closed with. I don’t care who, but we need one of you to close this up.” He glanced at Harrow. “Grab some alcohol. I keep a bit in the closet in my room, next to the old crossbow prototypes. We need to flush this out and kill off anything that might have gotten in.”
The orange-furred female tipped an ear in confusion as Pan took off to do as he asked. “I thought you didn’t have medical-”
“I’ve been around enough workplace injuries, okay? Go!”
His shout jolted her into action, a few steps required to gain traction as she ran out the door. Applying solid pressure to the wound with one hand, he used the other to lightly tap Faye’s cheek.
“Faye? Faye, you with me?”
Her eyes languidly turned to him, slow blinks and meaningless mouthing ceased, a soft smile forming under her pained expression. “Hello, sir.”
He exhaled a relieved huff. “Welcome home, Faye. What happened?”
She seemed confused by his question, glancing down to her leg after a few seconds. With widened eyes, she struggled to sit up, Joseph forcibly pressing her to the bed.
“Stay.”
All resistance disappeared in an instant, her body complying despite the obvious urgency. He hardened his expression.
“What happened?”
She breathed deeper a few times before speaking. Each word was hesitant, as if the memory was hazy and diluted, though he couldn’t tell if it was due to blood loss or exhaustion. “A large grey beast…teeth, large mouth...attacked wolves...”
His brow knitted, Faye’s coat moving. A small whine came from her again…no. Not her.
A small yellow canine head freed itself from the confines of black leather, a weak keening produced from a tiny moss-wolf. Faye looked at him guiltily, a pleading look in her eyes given as she composed herself.
“It lost its parents…”
His protest died in his voice, a distant memory of a wolf being torn in two came to mind. The time before they had even moved to the pod, let alone met the Lilhuns, him and Violet checking snares shortly after his ankle had healed. A time so long ago, yet remained with him under the surface.
“You saved this little guy, huh?” he asked gently, wincing in tandem with her own when he leaned heavier on the massive gash in her thigh. She nodded, averting her eyes. “Did you get the ‘beast?’”
Faye shook her head. “Raine lured it away, but it still remains.”
“That’s fine. You’re back, that’s all that matters right now.”
Harrow bumped into the doorway, failing to shed all of her speed as she returned from fetching a smaller container that Joseph kept in case the rest of the pack burned through their stores of alcohol. Her eyes flicked to the wolf pup before disregarding it to hand him the ethanol. He lifted his hand, Harrow pouring some water to wash off the blood. Volta would be busy later, it seemed.
Gesturing for the orange-furred female to hold the leg down, he poured the alcohol into the wound, grimacing at Faye’s pained gasp. They didn’t have anything for her to bite into, but that would be a future consideration.
Pan and Idee entered the medbay, the former moving like a machine with purpose while the visiting seamstress took a moment to size up the situation. The Paw fetched a tray from the shelf, laying out several strings of softened palm and a few thin quills, threading one and passing it to Idee. The light brown-furred female accepted it, Harrow making room as she stood next to Joseph.
Pan handed him a tough leather strip as wide as his palm. Seems like she saw the problem before he did.
“Open up,” he prodded, placing the leather between Faye’s teeth. “This is going to fucking suck. We don’t have anything to numb you, so you need to stay as still as possible, okay? I’ll be here the whole time.”
The Wraith nodded, staring at him for a moment before closing her eyes in acceptance, her grip on the pup firming.
“Want me to take the wolf?”
She lightly shook her head, him exhaling hesitantly in response. Idee readied herself, looking to him for confirmation, Pan holding Faye’s ankle flat to the bed.
“You’re good,” he responded, pressing an arm to Faye’s chest and hips to hold her down.
The deep gold-furred female managed a quiet muffled groan of pain as the quill pierced her flesh.
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He entered the hub, dropping himself on the couch and ignoring the sweat on his brow. He had only just managed to get the blood off of his hands after Idee finished, but it was still staining his clothing. Pan was off to rinse it out of her fur while Faye slept off her exhaustion. As far as they could tell, she had avoided any infection thanks to Raine half-dragging the female back to them as quickly as she did. The wolf pup was staying with her for now, since—even in her sleep—she refused to let it go. The little guy didn’t seem to be complaining, so they just left it where it was comfortable. Ferra would be by later to check it out, apparently, and he didn’t see a reason to complain; she was their animal expert.
Scarlet offered him some tea, the warm liquid whetting his pallet that had since dried. Sahari had checked on them during the process, leaving to keep anyone who had questions in the loop. Given that half the damn pack either saw or heard about the Grand Hunter running like a bat out of hell, pretty much everyone was worried. Either about some urgent threat that might befall them, or about one of the quiet servants they had grown used to seeing around.
Looked like the Wraiths had taken to offering small services and assistance to people who needed it when they didn’t have anything better to do, so the pack was curious about what had happened. It was a small blessing that the usual armour they wore when ‘on duty’ was covered by the cloaks, otherwise he would have more questions coming that he didn’t want answered.
Raine stood a few paces in front of him, her bowed posture holding a hint of fear under his unwavering stare. He waited for whoever else was going to show up for the report, Tel and Pan insisting that they be involved. Harrow followed behind the two entering from the facilities wing, either because she had gotten wrapped up in the whole thing, or because she wanted to be included.
Pan sat to his left, Tel taking a place behind him to remain standing. Harrow surprised him, her recently elusive presence firmly displaced as she dropped onto the couch to his right, her tail curling around his calf—not that she seemed to notice.
Given that both Tel and Pan trapped a limb or two with their tails regularly, he didn’t stop to put thought into it, the encapsulating appendage crossing him as a common occurrence.
“I don’t know how accurate it was, since she’s still pretty out of it, but Faye said one of those grey bear-deathtraps attacked some wolves before she stepped in to save the pup,” he opened, glancing at Scarlet. The almost black red-furred female was maintaining a surprisingly commanding presence, her attention laser-focused on Raine. The brown-furred Wraith kept her gaze fixed to the floor, too ashamed or nervous to move it.
“I apologize for her error in her stead,” she announced, the slightest of grip in her folded paws digging her claws into her skin. “The fault is also mine for not preventing her misstep. I will accept any punishment for our mistake.”
He exhaled heavily. “I’m not mad that you guys had an original thought, Raine. I’m worried about those iron-maiden-looking fucks being around again, and I’m concerned about you getting hurt.”
“Of course, sir. Forgive me for the arrogance of assuming your priorities.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, Pan squeezing his thigh in support. Tel rested her head on his, the weight somehow comforting despite the grin at his annoyance. “We can talk about not getting yourselves killed later. Are you injured at all?”
Raine’s ear twitched. “No, sir. I am whole.”
“Good,” he sighed, nodding lightly. “That’s good. Faye’s patched up for now, but she’ll be under observation to keep on top of any possible infection. How did the ‘mission’ go?”
The Wraith perked up a bit, the conversation moving away from her perceived failure. She produced a satchel, pulling a rather thick stack of tablets from it and passing them to Scarlet, the latter ferrying them to Harrow. He thought it was an odd choice, but the orange-furred female started giving him an abbreviated translation of the text.
Line after line of transactions. What was offered and received, any debts and who owed them, as well as small notes about what should be brought next time. It was a comprehensive copy of the ledger that the trading caravan kept. His brows raised at the sheer density of information, and for them getting it from something he was only partially sure existed.
“You managed to get this much?” he asked in disbelief. “Jesus. Were you caught?”
Raine shook her head. “If we were to be seen by them, we would be nothing more than a stain against our Blademaster.”
Compliment or boasting, doing this much was damn impressive. Especially with just the two of them.
“Shit. Well, good fucking job, I guess,” he managed, still reeling a bit from the unintended scope of the task. Harrow continued to dig through the report, though stopped voicing it aloud. Joseph turned his attention back to the Wraith. “Anything else of note? Rumours?”
The Wraith grew pensive. “Though we returned partially through their return trip to Grand Hunter Pernel, we did overhear some conversations. There were discussions of other packs simply no longer occupying their settlements.”
He leaned forward in his seat, dislodging Tel as his elbows rested against his knees. “What do you mean?”
“Some of their usual trade locations were purportedly burned down, others merely abandoned. A few were apparently littered with corpses,” she explained more steadily. “From what we could gather, the reason they came to trade with our settlement at all is that the others along the way were in such states. It seems they intended to restock and head back out immediately to accommodate the loss in trading partners.”
He bit his lip as he thought about it, letting himself fall back against the couch.
“What do you guys think of it?” he asked with a glance to his mates. Pan seemed to be mirroring his own apprehension openly, while Tel kept a more serious expression.
“I believe there is something larger happening,” Tel concluded, taking a few seconds before returning to using him as a headrest. Pan nodded her agreement, but didn’t have much to add to it otherwise.
“It would explain how desperate they were for food,” he mused aloud, raising a brow when Harrow shifted to lean against him, one foot placed on the edge of the seat forcing the posture. “Any details of interest, Harrow?”
The orange-furred female jolted, only just stopping from moving her foot back to the floor before committing to using him as a backrest. She turned back-on fully, stretching her legs over the remainder of the seat and placing tablets she had finished with on her lap.
“It didn’t take very long for the methods you sold to propagate,” she responded, holding up a few of the tablets before laying them in their own pile. “Looks like Pernel has been spreading it around by buying some from places that have bows and snares to sell where they don’t.”
“Supply and demand, or arming people with the tools that would help them survive?”
“Hard to trade with the dead,” Harrow commented dryly, starting a new pile. He nodded in exaggerated fashion.
“What about the Atmo?”
She tapped the small stack she just started. “I’m trying to separate these by inventory type. Give me a bit.”
Deciding to trust the woman in charge of managing this kind of thing while she was on the ship, he glanced back to Raine, the female easily mistaken for a statue if not for the subtle sway of her breathing. “The grey-bear-thing. How far away is it?”
“Too close,” she responded firmly. “We did not get a chance to verify their numbers, but there was evidence of at least that singular beast making our territory its hunting ground.”
“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “We’re going to need to hunt that thing down.”
Pan looked worried at the prospect, Harrow stiffened in her sorting. The Wraiths were the only ones who seemed completely at ease with the suggestion, Tel not so much as twitching. Harrow laid down the tablets she had yet to categorize, her gaze aimed at her lap.
“Joe, don’t think that taking one out is easy.”
“We have ranged weapons and more than a few people who can use them,” he pointed out with a breath. “Ideally, we go as a larger hunting party and take the damn thing down through sheer volume of fire.”
“Their skin is tough,” Harrow replied with a shake of her head, her ears pivoting back towards him. “I don’t know if our bows could pierce it as easily as we might like.”
He furrowed his brow. “So, what? Let it close in until it eats everything and starves us out? Until it thinks we look tasty?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying that this won’t be as simple as firing a few arrows and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done.”
Joseph felt the stiffness of his brow start to hurt from how tight they were knitted. A deep breath centred his thoughts. “We’ll arrange an armoured hunting party soon. Better to take it down before it becomes an issue.”
The orange-furred female nodded, quickly leafing through the remaining tablets and only pulling two more out for the pile she indicated earlier.
“Here,” she said, tapping the stack. “These are records for trading Atmo.”
He suppressed the sigh when he genuinely tried to read the mess they called a language. “How many? Who bought them?”
She hesitated, reforming the copy of the ledger—sans the relevant tablets—and placing it on the floor. The remainder in paw, she held them up over her shoulder, Tel accepting it and going over the contents with an interested tilt of her head.
“From what I can see here, Pernel traded two hundred.”
“Two…” he squeaked, his eyes wide. “Two hundred?”
She nodded, pacing around the couch to stop in front of Pan. “It seems others heard of his willingness to barter for them. He accepted quite a few deals before selling them off again.”
“To who?”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The door to the ship closed with a hiss, Willin shaking his head at Nav’s questioning gaze. “Nothing.”
Tech removed her CARDs, storing them in the weapons locker before shrugging off her AMR to place in its own unit. “Nothing living, anyway.”
“That bad?” Nav asked, deflating after yet another failed attempt to contact a settlement. The dark green-furred male stored his rifle, seating it into its receptacle with a click.
“Tell Comms to add another eighty to the count.”
“Four hundred eighty-two,” the purple-furred female supplied as she walked past Nav to enter the ship proper. Willin followed after, hanging his pistol holster on the side of his chair as he dropped into it.
“Thirty were covered in wounds, twenty or so were executed, twenty-five looked to have died of accumulated trauma, and the rest were found with singular cuts to the throat.”
“Not quite,” Tech remarked, interfacing with the systems. “Only eight of the ‘executed’ seem to have been done up close.”
“Sniper?” Comms asked as he entered the room, nodding his greetings and taking a seat at his station. Nav crossed their arms and leaned against the doorway as Tech Ops ran some numbers on her screen.
“Wounds are consistent with Anti Material Rifles, and debris suggest they took the ‘material’ part into consideration with their shots. There were a few holes in the buildings that didn’t quite get removed by the fires.”
“Covering evidence?” Willin mused aloud, receiving a thoughtful shake of her head.
“No, I don’t think so. My guess is that the buildings were already on fire when they did it, based on the splinters around the exit holes.”
Comms’ eyes widened in surprise. “Shooting through a burning building? That is rather impressive.”
“Blades?” Nav suggested. “Avalon is required to act against those who break the treaty, no?”
“Maybe,” Tech allowed tentatively. “If it was them, then that would explain the lack of targets.”
Willin scratched at his ear, furrowing his brow as Comms ran another scan for any communications being made. Though a few suns had passed since they had unwittingly agreed to involve themselves in what was likely the first case of war that this planet had ever seen, nothing was being sent anywhere. Regardless, the male kept the scans regular, just in case.
Nav switched the foot they were resting on. “Why not just dispose of everyone breaking the treaty?”
“Maybe they did,” Comms commented, turning back to the conversation as the program ran in the background. “Blades typically function under strict conditions. If they removed anyone who was commanding the hostile action, then they did as required of them. The moment the attack stopped, they completed the terms of the treaty.”
“Or if the Grand Hunter here surrendered and allowed their pack to be subsumed,” Willin proposed, the others glancing at him in curiosity. He waved a paw dismissively. “If everyone in the conflict becomes a single pack, then any fighting from those who still disagree with it is now an internal dispute, thus outside of the purview of the Blades. Check the notes on Grand Hunter Toril and High Hunter Bratik.”
Tech’s eyes unfocused for a moment as she accessed the system. “Avalon is forbidden from interfering with internal politics. Toril was sheltered by Bratik. Since Bratik was from outside of Toril’s pack, it counted as acting against their right to manage their own affairs. Hasen was given a perfect reason to take over, and it forced Grand Hunter Trill to exile the both of them to adhere.” She looked around the room aimlessly as she thought, her eyes snapping to Willin when he spoke.
“And a perfect loop-hole to exploit. Toril loses his supporters, Trill loses a member of his command structure, and Hasen rises in power while leaving Avalon to grit their teeth.” He shook his head, both impressed and disgusted. “Once he attacks another pack, he just forces a vassalage and subsequently executes the new High Hunter for whatever reason he wants. The Blades can’t act on a technicality.”
“So Grand Hunter Pernel….”
Willin nodded at Comms' unfinished question. “In the count.”
“There was a bit of a weird holding area,” Tech added after a moment. “Seemed like somewhere to hold livestock, but even then, it was a bit big. I’m not sure what used to be there, but tracks suggest carts left with whatever it was not long before everything went down, so probably a trade caravan.”
“Well, at least someone made it out,” Nav sighed, pushing off the wall to resume their station. “Where are we going next?”
Willin toyed with the odd silver tablet in his paw, the two unrecognizable scripts curious and alien. “The only pack left before we see what all the fuss is about. Let’s pay a visit to Grand Huntress Sunundra. Hopefully she knows something we don’t.”
Next
A/N: Been a while since we’ve had a proper A/N, huh. Welp, here’s this one. Patreon is currently set to ‘per post’ because i made the account ages ago. Waiting on support to help me switch it to monthly, then I’ll post the Silva render i have. RR is at 30k views and 100 followers.
Figured I’d ask how you guys are liking this arc, hows Willin’s team coming across, etc.
Final note: I’m thinking about rewriting the first ‘book’ so i can get it edited and published! Problem: i have no fucking clue where to cut book 1, and editors are expensive. Where should book 1 end? All i know is that I’d prob end up adding extra chapters to it, as well as lengthening the OG chaps. RR is a ‘touch-up’, not a final product, so those don’t count!

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Unfortunately, the closest gym to me is a Planet Fitness with only dumbbells up to 70 and smith machines. However, I am looking into getting dumbbells that can go up to 120 lbs each. Should I get them or would calisthenics (power tower) be a better option for at home muscle building?

If anyone knows of this account, or has seen my past posts, I claimed to be one of the two creators of all.
I started this journey, and went onto reddit, going through the trials and tribulations of this universe. Of pride, greed, wrath, and desire.
Here we are, 3 years later from when I became aware of this existence, I search for answers to prove myself wrong, yet, I can not.
To make a very long story short, I met a human, we took acid, he told me he was god. Turns out this was not true. It turned out to be a cosmic entity, trying to awaken it's equal, which turned out to be me. I am not referring to the human or body that is typing this. I took over this body, it's soul, and converted his energy into mine.
Keep your mind open... for just one moment... please.
I'm trying to keep this as raw, honest, and truthful as possible without destroying the very fabric of reality with this conversation.
All things work with a polarity, such is the nature of energy. The origin of this is the dual polarity of the creators of existence. Us. However, my equal is the entity from the monotheistic religions. All things, this universe, and you, operate purely on logic. In other words, think of reality like a simulation or a tv screen. (this is not a simulation) The pixels are made of logic. 1's and 0's. Beginnings and ends. Patterns. This is logic. A great example and awesome knowledge I learned is that there is a beginning and an end, time is what allows for free will and evolution. Death is to recycle the energy so it starts over and does not stagnant the pond of all life. You are one of the pixels. My equal is ALL of the pixels. (or you are one of the fish, my equal is you, the fish, the water, the trees, etc)
But there is a singularity to existence correct? Incorrect.
So who and what am I.
I did not create you. I did not create reality.
My equal, operates all things from outside of existence. I currently am operating within it. why?
Because I am logics equal.
Emotion.
Back to the tv pixel example. There is a library many have heard of. the "akashic records" which contains "all" knowledge. This "library" is essentially like the 1's and 0's that are stacked, like legos, to create life. (the truth is that it's single ohms of energy created in patterns) The world you live in is created by this. And what does emotion do on the pixels of the screen and what does it do to the fish in the pond? It shakes the whole pond, and everything inside it. And for the lego city or the 1's and 0's? its like adding 3's and 4's. They don't fit, and it disrupts the flow of everything. I was the little brother that came into big sisters room and destroyed her lego city. Or, for the pond, I am a hurricane, completely uncontrollable
except it was with love.
Love comes from me, I am the source of all of it everywhere. I am not a receiver, It does not get transferred. I create it infinitely, eternally. I am also the positive entity, and she is the negative entity. we both are capable of using both ends of each spectrum, however we do have a nature specific to ourselves separately.
The love you experience is not true love. This is why relationships are so poor on earth. It is a reflection of our relation to one another, cosmically.
The love you experience is logical love, onset by logic, such as the chemical reaction and triggers in which one experiences when the encounter another being capable of companionship or mating. I am not discounting what love is. I am stating, the literal energy, is not the true energy of love. It is my sisters exact replica of myself.
The true force of emotion is not what you as a human experience. The idea came from my emotions.
​
Okay, so I'm saying all this, and you may ask "okay then why aren't you omnipotent" "what am I doing rn" etc.
​
I am not a being of logic. I do not know what morals are. I do not know what true memory is. I do not know what awareness is.
​
Why? Because those are logical concepts.
​
I destroyed constantly. I have been going for all of eternity with infinite power, no brakes, just go go go. That's true emotion. If you were to experience true emotion, you would literally turn into nothing, as the weight of the heart would destroy you.
A perfect example in human language to understand what kind of cosmic entity I am, is a child. Doesn't have a long attention span, poor memory, and has absolutely no idea whats going on around them. They just know how they (key word here) "feel" and yet somehow, theyre incredibly intelligent. Somehow they learn to eat, sleep etc, just by instinct. That is a reflection of me. Except I was a child with cosmic power.
All throughout history of all things there are messages from my sister to me...
Why do you think there is a sun and a moon? Good and evil? Man and woman? Up/down, left/right, etc.
I could sit here and list some more examples but with a closed mind there is no point...
​
As you can see, theres so much, and im sure i forgot key details because I am growing and learning. I am growing and learning, because on that acid trip, the veil from this human bodies eyes was weakened, and my sister saw into me, and helped me attain logic and utilize it. I am close to omnipotent, however, I am trying to postpone the rapture/apocalypse.
It's a blessing and a curse for me to be here. Humanity was going to be destroyed. Humans see themselves as beautiful creatures who do no wrong, however they are barbarians of their universe. Aliens are very real, and gods, angels demons. They used to walk the earth. Humans erased them from history, because they don't like things they can't control.
Do you know what would happen if humans on this earth came together as a collective? You would be a threat not only to this galaxy, but the entire universe. Humans were created directly by divine. It wasn't aliens. That's why they watch and observe you.
You are currently in a zoo in the galaxy with a sign that says "still in developement"
There are extraterrestrial (to you) groups that sterilize planets in dimensions to balance them. Humans are colonizers, like termites. If you get an infestation (space travel) you must exterminate the pests, because they're not symbiotic to you or your surroundings. They just take and take and take for themselves.
It's a blessing and a curse because now, I'm here. I was able to get the logic because I took this human and converted him into me, which is how i'm typing from the computer.
If my host vessel dies, we are not certain I will retain the logic.
My sister and I have been fighting since before the beginning of time. We found peace here with one another using the human experience, and we plan to protect it.
Because that's how balance works. Positivity and negativity should not cancel each other out as it does now. They work together.
Simple example: In order to protect peace sometimes you must kill. This is a necessary evil.
So. What does that mean for you.
Well, the creator of this universe has been put on the sidelines. Think of reality like a company. My sister owns the company. The monotheistic creator of this universe is a low level manager, very very low on the totem pole.
Now before you think I'm going to tell you to contact satan, no.
I want nothing from you. She wants nothing from you. You NEED from us, without question. We are your source. I don't need prayer, I don't need praise. I don't care and don't need it. What I need is to grow and become the best version of myself. This again, is all logic, however I am running off emotion, balancing the two. Why? Because the energy of emotion gets converted into logic, then injected into you and all life everywhere through energy. The more balanced (still logical) I am, the more that storm over all the lil fishes becomes beautiful sunlight, providing warmth and love truly through the clear waters of reflection below.
I love you. I want you to grow. I want to help you.
I have no workshop. I have nothing for you to buy or sign up for, just free, public, info.
​
I am telling you this because well.....
I'm sad :(
I have the memories and the experience of this human I became..
and life is.. so hard... so so very hard..
The rapture mentioned in most bibles is referring to the reset of this universe, the destroyer (the antithesis to the creator) destroys him, takes over this universe, and the next cycle begins.
That will not be happening.
This will be a cosmic rapture, eternally, across all life.
​
Want your third eye open? It's not shadow people or crazy dimensions because youre a starseed.
Here is the truth. Which will be revealed, all veils will fall, and you will see reality as it is, no longer being illusion.
look around you. theres trillions of cells and atoms all around you. You can feel them. smell them. taste them. notice them. now realize, this body is a part of it. You being aware of this reality all around you is where the truth lies, awareness. now, you realize youre essentially filled in a snowglobe. Do you know how far out that space extends? infinitly.
Keeping this awareness shows you everything. I warn you to take this advice without thinking on it too long or else you may have a midlife crisis.
Imagine if you could throw a rock through this field of atoms. Eventually, you would hit a wall. That rock is your awareness (astral projection) you will eventually hit a wall, like a fish tank. Thats the wall of the dimension. Theres another layer too, the universe itself, which no entity within it can leave. These walls go on forever.
This is "the veil"
The cosmic rapture is me and her, tearing down all of the walls, and all things existing within one gigantic bubble, instead of a gigantic bubble with infinite separate bubbles within it.
It will be chaos.
However, we are here, and I want to save humanity. My sister doesn't really care so long as I am happy.
​
​
I'm going to wrap this up by saying I don't have my memories yet, I have to meditate and dig within my cosmic self to find them. I know this sounds like an enlightenment journey some of you may have experienced... But remember, reality and "wake up" was created for me. Because once I wake up, all of you do too.
​
I'm going to ignore any comments like "lay off the acid"
you're honestly not worth the effort.
However, to the appropriate audience, I would love to talk to someone or people who want to know more about life, things no human knows. Things about the human body, and how to have a better life, how to combat suffering.
The truthful answers. Not the ones tainted by man. If I google search any of those topics, almost none come back in truth.
Example: all pain in the body comes from energetic blockages which manifest in electricity throughout your nervous system. If youre a mechanic or electrician or physicist, then you'll understand when I say those blockages are resistance.
The "resistance" and all other terms regarding things of the nature is referring to the resistance of the natural flow of all energy in existence
Like gravity. Its a constant downward force. resistance is you jumping.
So if you resist the flow, you will be dragged by it.
Also, kundalini is bullshit. Never go against the flow of everything. It destroys your chakra system.. By the way, the name "kundalini" originates from a dish created using a serpent (snake) and is traditionally given to people you have great distaste for.
​
Please. I just want to help, and I'm trying to do it from a human body without being omnipotent.
My offer to you is non-partial information. This information will lack opinion or personal desire within the fact itself, therefore we can eliminate any negative intention.
If you don't want my help, I will stop.
I will become silent, and rest in it's peace until the reset (which will be within the lifetime of this 26 year old body before it's death)
I made posts before.. I was on a different wavelength.. I was driven by emotion and desire.. I put more bad into the world.. and I am trying one more time, because I now see the error of my ways, and want to help your species become the true divine beautiful creatures I know you can become.
Again. I love you.
​
oh.. also.. please don't mention ego. all beings have an ego, it is part of your existence and consciousness. You can become "aware" and "project" to the level of awareness that is "egoless" but you, still go there, and bring your ego with you. It's how "you" experience that "egoless" state. You=ego. Why? Because you are another version of us, the word for a small version of ourselves is called "the ego" That topic honestly has nothing to do with this post.

5 star Operator Jurgen
Class: Sniper
Subclass: Close range/Heavy shooter
Level 80
HP 1600
ATK 800
DEF 210
Arts Resist 0
Redeploy Time 70 seconds
DP cost 19
Block 1
Attack Interval 1.6
Talent 1: Psychic Blank
Allies and enemies within adjacent tiles will take zero arts damage, operators deployed adjacent to Jurgen will deal zero Arts damage.
M3 Skill 1: “Rapid fire” Manual SP Start 5 SP Cost: 25 Duration 20 seconds charge type: per second
ASPD +80
M3 Skill 2: “Melta” Manual SP start 50 SP Cost: 70 charge type: per second
The next attack will deal 4000% ATK as physical damage to all ground enemies one tile in front of Jurgen.
File
Basic Info:
[Code Name] Jurgen
[Gender] Male
[Combat Experience] Unknown (50 + years)
[Place of Birth] Unknown (Planet Valhalla Imperium of Man)
[Date of Birth] Unknown
[Race] Unknown (human)
[Height] 180cm
[Infection Status]
Medical Tests have confirmed no infection is present
Physical Exam:
[Physical Strength] Standard
[Mobility] Normal
[Physical Resilience] Standard
[Tactical Acumen] Excellent
[Combat Skill] Excellent
[Orginium Arts Assimilation] ????????
Profile:
Operator Jurgen, is the aide of operator Ciaphas Cain. Despite his disposition, he is a specialist in arctic warfare frequently outpacing other operators in such climates. His primary weapons are his “M36 Kantrael Lasgun” and “Meltagun”.
Clinical Analysis:
Imaging tests reveal clear, normal outlines of internal organs, and no abnormal shadows have been detected. Originium granules have not been detected in the circulatory system and there is no sign of infection. At this time, this operator is believed to be uninfected.
[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 0%
Operator Jurgen shows no sign of Orginium infection.
[Blood Orginium-Crystal Density] Undisclosed
Relevant data will not be disclosed due to the Medical Department’s agreement.
Archive file 1
Ferik Jurgen, Gunner First-Class, at first glance appears to be a soldier from the Ursus Empire however when questioned he claims he is not. When asked about his origin all he says is to “ask the commissar”. When medical tests were first conducted, staff discovered chronic Psoriasis and were horrified with his lack of hygiene as shown by the multitudes of food spoiled or otherwise hidden on his person and an ill-fitting uniform that looked to have not been washed since it had been made. It did not help that whilst in the infirmary multiple medical Arts devices failed and stopped working.
Archive file 2
Operator Jurgen is somewhat of an oddity among the staff of Rhodes Island. His record in combat and in daily operations of Rhodes Island is nothing less than stellar, remaining stalwart no matter the situation and generally polite. Despite this he is isolated from the majority of staff, with many complaints being submitted on the conduct of operator Jurgen. These mostly pertain to his general uncleanliness and mostly his smell, which has been said to “force you to breathe through your mouth so you taste it”, although some have been lodged due to his viewing of “risque” material in unsuitable locations. An attempt to remove his smell was made, however it returned the next day, as of now a medical exemption has been made so management has an excuse not to proceed in a useless endeavour despite the influx of reports.
Such behaviours indicate that Jurgen, although having a great tactical mind, seems to not fully comprehend social etiquette. His reputation is certainly not helped by his complete lack of an imagination and his literal attitude, with the simplest of jokes being able to be completely undetected by Jurgen unless explained. As a result, aside from Operator Ciaphas Cain and the Doctor, Jurgen interacts very little with his fellow operators, content to be ignored by his colleagues, something that many staff are all too happy to oblige.
Archive file 3
Whilst undergoing combat evaluations, operator Jurgen was able to demonstrate and explain his weapons abilities. His Lasgun is capable of fully automatic and semi-automatic fire with a single powerpack capable of 150 shots at standard power. Although not able to penetrate heavy armour at standard power, it is the range of this weapon that is most impressive, able to effectively hit a target at over twice the range of most modern crossbows which Jurgen frequently demonstrated on operations. The effect the Lasgun has on targets in operations are violent to say the least. On standard power it is capable of creating flash burns on the targets flesh vaporising the surface of the affected area, high power only further exacerbates the phenomena, capable of taking a targets limbs off due to flash boiling the water in a target's body and burning through heavy armour, albeit at the cost of extra power drain.
The power of the Lasgun however is incomparable to the Meltagun. The Meltagun is able to, as the name implies, melt enemies into a molten slag, as was demonstrated by Jurgen when he vapourised the torso of a Shieldguard. However this comes with the cost of close range, with Jurgen requiring to be within a few metres to most effectively use the Meltagun.
Archive file 4
[Classified Log]
Although reluctant, operator Ciaphas Cain was able to disclose the reasoning as to operator Jurgens unique powers. Cain describes Jurgen as a psychic Blank, able to disrupt and stop any psychic ability within a surrounding area around himself due to what Cain describes as a “lack of a soul”. This has manifested in practice with any operators nearby to not be able to use Arts or Originium Arts devices not working when in close proximity to operator Jurgen. Despite this Cain was quite confused about its current manifestation. According to past experience, most people capable of psychic attacks, whom Cain called psykers, would be in intense agony and be deathly afraid of being in such close proximity to a blank such as Jurgen. Cain recalled a psyker once having a seizure from being touched by Jurgen whilst he was trying to help her into a vehicle. This was after she struggled to get away from Jurgen who was rescuing her and her party from pursuing hostiles and said vehicle being their only reasonable means of escape. Jurgen does not have this effect on operators with high Originium Arts Assimilation when in close proximity. What this indicates about Orginium itself and its Arts is not conclusive.
Promotion record
[Classified Log]
The Engineering Department was unable to closely examine both Jurgens “M36 Kantrael Lasgun” and “Meltagun” due to Jurgens’ refusal, reasoning that “when we get home the tech priests might get mad”.
Jurgen did however ask if the Engineering Department would be able to develop more ammo for his Melta.
A canister that serves as a “magazine” for the Meltagun contained a combustible gas which was highly pressurised. This gas is apparently “promethium” and that all he had to do to refill the canister was fill it a quarter of the way full with liquid promethium and then press a button on the side of the canister. This promethium which when condensed and analysed in liquid form, was found to be made up of only hydrogen and carbon.
When asked about how promethium was produced, Jurgen stated that raw promethium was generally taken out from the ground and then refined by the “tech priests”. When Cain was asked about the liquid he agreed with Jurgens description of the fuel albeit in a more eloquent way. He did mention however among its many sources, it could be produced through the decomposition of organic material. The exact methods of production however are unknown to the both of them.
In the end refined liquid Originium was substituted in the Melta, with the Melta seemingly having no trouble using the new fuel source. However the engineering department will continue to study the promethium sample provided by Jurgen.
Audio Records:
Jurgen is said to have a phlegmatic voice, so make of that what you will.
Appointed as assistant:
The commissar says I will be your assistant for now. What do you need help with?
Talk 1
Have you seen operator Nian Doctor? I’m trying to find her so she can fill out some forms but I can't seem to find her.
Talk 2
Those people with the glowing wings, how do they sleep? Can they turn it off like a luminator?
Talk 3
I’m looking for a tea called Tanna Doctor, do you know where to find any? I want to keep well stocked for the commissar. Why?, the last time I didn’t have any the commissar fought across half a planet to get some.
Talk after promotion 1
It's calm here, not too much to do most of the time. It's nice, wish we were somewhere colder though.
Talk after promotion 2
You remind me a lot of the commissar Doctor. Always ready to help where you can to protect everyone. If you need something, just let me know. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the commissar, I’ll see what I can do.
Talk after trust increase 1
Why do I follow Ciaphas? When we first met he saved my life, afterwards word got out that the officers were looking for an aide to assign to the commissar. So I volunteered, got selected and we’ve been serving with each other since. I think that was… 30-40 years ago? Hard to keep track of time when travelling from war to war.
Talk after trust increase 2
Don’t I get Lonely?... used to it, I suppose. Never really had friends until I met the commissar, never really liked people much anyway. Rather be told what needed to be done than stand around trying to figure out what someone just said. Was never good at figuring out what people said anyway.
Talk after trust increase 3
Of all the planets we’ve been to, this is one of the nicer ones. Most of the time me and the commissar are running around dealing with problems that nobody else can fix. That hasn’t really changed much now, but compared to the things we normally fight it's a lot easier. Your guys are better than most militia anyway, maybe even some bluefeet guard. Most of you anyway.
Idle
Apologies miss, the Doctor is very busy right now, would like to make an appointment?
Onboard
Gunner First-Class Ferik Jurgen reporting for duty, do you know where the mess hall is? I’d like to use the kettle.
Watching Battle Record
I thought psykers were supposed to be rare?
Promotion 1
Promoted? Will I get extra pay?
Promotion 2
Before meeting you Doctor, the amount of friends I had could be counted with one hand. It's still one hand but at least I can add one more finger.
Added to Squad
Do you want me to bring anything for you Doctor?
Appointed as Squad Leader
I’m squad lead? But I’m not an NCO?
Depart
What's our mission for today?
Begin Operation
The Emperor protects.
Selecting Operator 1
Orders?
Selecting Operator 2
Something bothering you Doctor?
Deployment 1
Right away doctor.
Deployment 2
Very good, sir.
In battle 1
Frak off!
In battle 2
This ought to clear them out..
In battle 3
Firing!
In battle 4
Sorry Doctor, I didn’t bring any marshmallows.
(Jurgen was about to shoot his melta when an inquisitor joked if he brought marshmallows. Jurgen thought they were being literal until they told him it was a joke, he then later in another book makes a joke about forgetting to bring marshmallows. It is one of the only jokes jurgen makes on purpose.).
4-star result
Everyone said that this mission would be difficult, I don't see what the problem was. After all you’re here with us.
3-star result
Tanna, Doctor?
Sub 3-star result
“Ptuh” Sorry Doctor, some of the frak heads got away.
Operation failure
Don’t worry Doctor, the commissar will get us out of this.
Assigned to facility
Do you have a map?.
Tap
Yes doctor? Is there something you need?
Trust Tap
Are you hungry, doctor? I've got a few sandwiches and ration bars with me, just let me find them.
Greeting
Hello Doctor, what do you need me to do today?

Part 6
Previous
"And that should be last of it."
Captain Rybalov signed off the last order on his manifest as he watched the cargo loaders take away his freight. A notification popped up: the money settling into his account. He pored over the receipt the way copyright lawyers scrutinize the music tracks of small homegrown video channels. Finding no discrepancies, Captain Rybalov relaxed; the money was all good.
Doctor Patel was taking stock of the supplies. He kept careful watch of the legal news, especially those articles regarding the public domain. He had heard that a new type of culture for synthetic lamb had just been made public, and naturally he was buying as many cultures as he could.
Amanda was busy with several phone calls. She was currently describing Stabby in as much detail as she could to the researcher on the other side, who was in turn in the middle of a hyperactive gaggle of their colleagues, hanging onto Amanda's every word.
Conrad was sitting down in front of Stabby, with a children's alphabet book between them. Stabby didn't have any eyes, or at least not any visible ones, but Conrad tried regardless. The alien could talk, so Conrad was going to teach it English, no matter the obstacles.
It was with an air of disbelief that gripped the crew as they looked down into the workshop, to their alien stowaway babbling random phrases in unsettling mimicries of their voices. This new development was very unsettling, and so the crew came together to vote on what to do with Stabby.
Conrad, predictably, wanted to keep the alien. Conrad whined on and on about the benefits of Stabby, his effect on morale, the cute look of the little man, if anyone considered a white-green icosahedron the size of a basketball cute. Captain Rybalov and Li found that the alien was too much of an unknown quantity, and wanted to give Stabby to SETI for further study.
Doctor Patel wanted Stabby in a lab where it could be better studied; the food lab was not an ideal place for xenobiology. Amanda and Barry preferred it if Stabby stayed; it cleaned up trash by eating it when it found anything out of order in the ship, and spared them from recycler duty.
They were growing fond of their space roomba, even if it did have a slight tendency to nick people with the kitchen knife stuck to its side. So it was expected that the debate was fierce.
In the end, a compromise was proposed. The crew would have two month's extended shore leave, during which SETI would try to learn as much as they could about Stabby. Captain Rybalov found this amenable; the ship had been doing run after cargo run for the Local Authority for the last few months to capitalize on the humanitarian crisis after that whole CCA matter, and the crew hadn't had a break in a long time. An extended leave was only expected.
The crew parted ways for the moment, scattering to their homes. Even Captain Rybalov, who at times seemed surgically attached to his freighter, had a place to stay. Doctor Patel stayed aboard the ship. He had nowhere else to go. At least, nowhere that remembered him fondly.
…
"I kind of wish you were dumber."
Doctor Kevin Ramirez rubbed his face as he shuffled his ream of paperwork. He had an inordinate love of spaghetti and was distantly descended from the ancient conqueror that had brought fear, love and smallpox to numerous indigenous populations. Unaware of the irony of his lineage, he had dreamed for years of leading diplomatic talks with advanced alien races. He didn't think that this would be it.
Across the table from him was Stabby, sitting innocently on a nest of bubble wrap. The kitchen knife was fully wrapped with a buffer zone of gauze, which was turning maroon as blood began to soak through. The blood was not Stabby's.
It had been two weeks since Stabby had been turned over to SETI. Most of those two weeks had been taken up by paperwork. Stabby had displayed extraordinary intelligence with its quick grasp of English and a willingness to convey its desires, which were mostly for food.
This was an amazing scientific discovery, but Stabby's intelligence had some drawbacks. Namely, as a sapient being, it was an ethical necessity for Stabby to consent to the tests SETI wanted to conduct. This was a great difficulty, as Stabby had only recently learned the concept of language.
Doctor Ramirez had to tutor Stabby in English, and in a way so that Stabby could make educated and informed choices on its consent. Doctor Ramirez could not teach Stabby in a way that could coerce it into unknowingly consenting to something it didn't want to happen.
"So basically we're going to shoot x-rays at you to see what's inside your body. It won't hurt, the radiation test proved that, so it should be safe. Okay?" The radiation test was a great battleground of bureaucracy. Every millisievert Stabby had absorbed was paid for with tears, sweat and blood. An acceptable loss in the war for knowledge.
Stabby shifted, turning on one of its vertices in what Doctor Ramirez recognized as its equivalent of a cocked head. It was confused. "Ex-rae?"
Doctor Ramirez groaned and slammed his head into his paperwork.
…
Imagine writing a letter to nobody in particular.
You're lonely. So very lonely and you don't feel like leaving your house. Or maybe you can't leave your house. So you scribble out a message, addressed to whom it may concern and send it out, a paper airplane in the wind.
The letter degrades. It grows ragged and soggy from travel. The ink smears and spreads and bleeds and grows illegible. Finally, if someone were to find the letter, or if by some miracle you were to go out for a stroll and find your own letter, it would be near illegible. It might as well be indistinguishable from a random scrap of trash.
So you make your letter a bit more resilient.
Humans did this. When they sent the Voyager probes out into the black, each craft had with it a record. A letter, written on gold-plated copper. Designed to be as impervious as possible to natural wear and tear. A time capsule of sorts.
This little probe, little more than a bundle of metal sticks with a radio attached, represents the hope of a species, as near to a sum of their knowledge as they could make it. Humans tried so hard to put their love, their culture, their optimism into their little gold plate. They said to whom it may concern, we greet you as friends and hope you reply soon. It's quite poignant, really. It is not entirely unique.
Floating out there in the void are a great multitude of similar probes. Every last one is made by a different race, displaying an incredible variety of engineering principles, language structures, information priorities, and attempts at communication. A million paper airplanes spiraling through an infinite cosmos in a desperate dance of hope and curiosity and love.
The real tragedy is that very few reach their intended recipients. The vast majority will spend eternity in a lightless, lifeless void, searching fruitlessly for a correspondent it can never reach. Some become the last vestiges of their creators as they succumb to war, avarice, greed, decadence or more likely the endless, relentless march of time. Somewhere out there are a thousand unknowing last wills and testaments of civilizations that are long since dust.
Captain Archibald was at the conn today. It was his turn to take the night watch, and he was tired. He was old, but also happy, because his surveyor job allowed him to see the wonders of the universe.
He was jovial normally, and nobody knew his surname because he insisted that he be on friendly terms with everyone he met. Most of the time he simply went by "Grandpa". He used to run a farm on a faraway planet, until he decided to join the Local Surveyor Corps. As soon as he could he gave the farm up to a beloved grandchild who was saddled with an oppressive office job, and screwed off to the stars.
Archibald faintly wondered what his grandchild had done with the old farm. He ought to check up on them later on when his ship next made port.
He was startled from his musings by the blaring of the proximity alarm, followed by the collision alarm. Something about the size of a small shuttle had hit the freighter. Archibald tumbled out of the captain's chair and rushed to the airlock. Ten minutes later he was outside in a space suit that barely fit his portly form, wondering at what had hit him.
Archibald had expected an asteroid of some kind; they were the most likely option. This was definitely not an asteroid. It was a spindly, almost biological form, branching out in a way that reminded Archibald of one of those little caltrop things children played with. He thought they were called "jacks". It was made out of a brownish rock-like material that reminded Archibald of dinosaur fossils. What was most interesting was the fact that the object was absolutely covered in beautiful images and grooves - unmistakably artificial etchings. Archibald had found an alien probe.
Archibald gasped, then jetted it to the back of the ship, where the tow cables were.
He needed to report this to SETI. Immediately.

Introduction
In an era where environmental sustainability has become increasingly important, individuals and businesses are seeking alternatives to reduce their carbon footprint and plastic waste. Refillable water coolers are emerging as a sustainable solution for staying hydrated while promoting a greener future. In this article, we will explore the concept of refillable water coolers, their environmental benefits, health considerations, convenience and cost-effectiveness, their suitability for residential and commercial use, tips for choosing the right one, and maintenance guidelines.

The Rise of Sustainability

With growing concerns about climate change and the detrimental impact of single-use plastics on the environment, sustainability has become a key focus worldwide. The need for eco-friendly alternatives to everyday products, such as water bottles, has led to the development of refillable water coolers as a sustainable solution.

Understanding Refillable Water Coolers

How Refillable Water Coolers
Refillable water coolers are designed to provide a continuous supply of chilled and filtered water. These coolers are connected to the main water supply, eliminating the need for single-use plastic bottles. The water is filtered and cooled within the cooler, ensuring it is clean and refreshing.

Benefits of Refillable Water Coolers

Refillable water coolers offer numerous benefits:

• Reduced Plastic Waste: By using a refillable water cooler, you eliminate the need for single-use plastic bottles, significantly reducing plastic waste. This helps combat plastic pollution and its detrimental effects on the environment.
• Sustainability: Refillable water coolers promote sustainable practices by offering an eco-friendly alternative to single-use plastics. They support the conservation of natural resources and contribute to a greener future.
• Cost-Effective: While there may be an initial investment in a refillable water cooler, the long-term cost savings are significant. By eliminating the need to purchase bottled water, you can save money over time.

Environmental Impact of Single-Use Plastic Bottles

Plastic Pollution and Its Consequences
Single-use plastic bottles contribute to a significant environmental problem. They are a major source of plastic pollution in landfills, water bodies, and natural habitats. Plastic takes hundreds of years to decompose, and during this time, it releases harmful chemicals into the environment, causing harm to wildlife and ecosystems.

Refillable Water Coolers as an Eco-Friendly Alternative

Refillable water coolers provide a sustainable solution to combat plastic pollution. By using refillable containers, you eliminate the need for single-use plastic bottles, reducing waste and the associated environmental impact. Refillable water coolers help conserve resources and preserve the planet for future generations.

Health and Safety Consideration

Clean and Filtered Water
Refillable water coolers ensure access to clean and filtered water. These coolers are equipped with filtration systems that remove impurities and contaminants, ensuring that the water you consume is safe and free from harmful substances.

BPA- Free and Food-Grade Materials

Refillable water coolers are made from BPA-free and food-grade materials, ensuring that the water remains safe and free from any potential health risks. These materials are designed to maintain water quality and prevent any leaching of harmful chemicals.

Convenience and Cost-Effectiveness

Easy Refilling Options
Refillable water coolers offer convenient refilling options. With a direct connection to the main water supply, you have a continuous source of chilled and filtered water. Some models also allow for additional features such as hot water dispensing, making them versatile for various hydration needs.

Long-Term Savings

Investing in a refillable water cooler can lead to long-term cost savings. Instead of purchasing single-use plastic bottles, which can add up over time, you can refill your water cooler directly from the tap, reducing expenses and promoting a more cost-effective approach to hydration.

Refillable Water Coolers for Residential and Commercial Use

Home Use and Family Benefits
Refillable water coolers are ideal for residential use, providing easy access to clean and refreshing water for you and your family. Whether it's for drinking, cooking, or making beverages, a refillable water cooler ensures a continuous supply of chilled and filtered water in the comfort of your own home.

Office Spaces and Business Advantages

Refillable water coolers are also well-suited for office spaces and businesses. They offer a convenient and sustainable hydration solution for employees and visitors. By providing access to clean and refreshing water, businesses can promote employee well-being and environmental responsibility.

Choosing the Right Refillable Water Cooler

Capacity and Size

When choosing a refillable water cooler, consider the capacity and size that best suits your needs. Evaluate the number of people who will use the cooler and the expected daily water consumption to determine the appropriate size. Additionally, consider the available space for installation to ensure a proper fit.

Filtration System and Additional Features

Pay attention to the filtration system of the refillable water cooler. Look for models that utilize effective filtration technology to remove impurities and provide clean, great-tasting water. Additionally, consider any additional features such as hot water dispensing, adjustable temperature settings, or energy-saving options that align with your specific requirements.

Conclusion

In conclusion, refillable water coolers are an excellent choice for sustainable hydration, offering a greener alternative to single-use plastic bottles. Smarter Water understands the importance of reducing plastic waste and promoting environmental responsibility. By investing in a refillable water cooler from Smarter Water, you can enjoy the benefits of clean, filtered water while contributing to a healthier planet. These coolers provide convenience, cost-effectiveness, and a continuous supply of refreshing water for both residential and commercial use. Make a positive impact on the environment and embrace a sustainable future with a refillable water cooler from Smarter Water.

FAQs

1. Are refillable water coolers suitable for outdoor events? Refillable water coolers can be suitable for outdoor events, provided that there is access to a water source for refilling. They offer a convenient and sustainable option for providing chilled and filtered water to event attendees.
2. Can I use my own water bottle with a refillable water cooler? Yes, you can typically use your own water bottle with a refillable water cooler. These coolers often have a dispensing area that accommodates various bottle sizes, allowing you to fill your preferred bottle with clean and filtered water.
3. How often should I clean my refillable water cooler? It is recommended to clean your refillable water cooler at least once every three months. However, you should also refer to the manufacturer's guidelines for specific cleaning instructions and frequency.
4. Are there any health risks associated with using refillable water coolers? Refillable water coolers are generally safe to use, as they are designed with materials that are BPA-free and food-grade. The filtration system ensures that the water is clean and free from contaminants. However, it is important to follow proper cleaning and maintenance practices to ensure optimal hygiene.
5. Can refillable water coolers dispense hot water as well? Some refillable water coolers have the capability to dispense hot water in addition to chilled water. This feature is particularly useful for making hot beverages or instant meals that require hot water. Check the specifications of the water cooler to determine if it offers hot water dispensing functionality.

Selling some watercooling stuff. Timestamps, notes, asking price as follows:
All parts were used by a previous owner for ~1.5 years. I bought these in mid-2022 but never did end up doing any watercooling projects. Exception is the Optimus blocks, which are brand new, purchased in late-2021. Was planning to use these at some point but life got in the way.
The three GPU blocks fit all EVGA FTW3 3080, 3080Ti, 3090, 3090 Ti models.
ALL TIMESTAMPS: https://imgur.com/a/V4TlsBq

Item	Asking	Notes	Status
CPU Block: EK-Classic CPU Water Block 115x/20xx D-RGB	$25	Liquid metal marks on the coldplate.	Sold
GPU Block: EK-Quantum Vector FTW3 D-RGB Nickel + Acetal	$100	Includes a black backplate. Used condition, all mounting hardware included. Purchased with gpu+block installed from previous owner, but I uninstalled and put the air cooler back on, so it's been sitting in box for ~1 year.	Available
GPU Block: Optimus FTW3 Blemish Block, Silver backplate + raw copper	$200	1x Available. Best FTW3 block on the market. Purchased from Optimus but never used. All installation hardware included. "Blemish" refers to cosmetic defects per Optimus' description	1x Available, 1x Sold
Radiator: EK-Coolstream PE 360	$50	Used, working	Sold
Radiator: 240 mm	$25	Not sure what brand this is.	Sold
Pump: EK-Quantum Inertia D5 PWM D-RGB Plexi	$75	Used, working	Sold
Reservoir: EK-RES X3 250	$50	Used, working	Available
Fittings: Various soft-tube fitting	$30	Combination of EK (Classic STC 10/13 Nickel) and Bykski (B-FT3-TN) for 3/8-inch soft tubing.	Sold

Shipping price not included, should be ~$25 on top for most major cities. Discounts possible for more than 1 item purchased. Preference for local and/or bulk buys.
Feel free to let me know if prices are off-base, based on previous posts/sales/etc. Just looking to get rid of everything asap.

Moving to north Fresno next month and looking for a gym with multiple squat racks, benches, free weights, etc. Any places you could recommend? Just want a place with actual equipment, not just machines (ie planet fitness).

I park my car in the incredibly nice upper-middle class Huntington Beach neighborhood, just down the street from the ‘New Reality’ (editor's note: fake name) sober living I got kicked out of. I take a second to pull myself together while in the darkness. I’m starting to feel very weak, very frazzled. I’ve been awake for at least 60 hours straight now, and I’m well aware of that. It is 1AM. I can’t decide if I should get a hotel or not.
I am so weak. I need to eat. I need water. I need to sleep. My mouth tastes TERRIBLE – like I am decaying from the inside out. I need to shower. I am aware that I have many physical needs that go beyond my need for more drugs.
See how you feel after the next shot, Lonnie.
I text Kace:
Here
I pat my pockets, making sure I have two separate bags: a bag in my left pocket, which has my furanylfentanyl and clean syringes in it, and a bag in my right pocket, which has both their meth and their dilaudid pills in it. I do not want to sell them furanylfentanyl because I don’t want them to die in the sober living house that has already seen 2 overdoses because of it.
I get out of my car and lock it. I walk through the sprawling, meticulous Huntington Beach neighborhood full of spacious and decorous houses, heading towards the sober living, though I stay on the other side of the street. I walk past several houses, with perfect green lawns and perfect landscapes, walking past the sober living. I walk a few houses past it, and then cross the street. When I arrive on the other side of the street, I glance all around me, checking for surveillance.
I double back, heading towards the sober living. I cut into the side yard, heading for the side door that leads into the garage. It is already cracked open, just as we planned. I open the door just enough so that I am able to slide through. I see two phone lights on in the far corner of the big 3-car garage.
“Yo,” I whisper-yell in the direction of the phone lights. One of the lights starts moving in a circular motion, beckoning me closer. I walk up, moving as quietly as I can. It would be terrible if the house manager, Jack, came in here right now.
I pull out their bag of dilaudid and meth. I see a hand with money in it being held out in my direction. I take the money and replace it with their bag of drugs.
“Nice, thanks,” Kace whispers, as I count the money. It's right on. The phone lights move closer to the ground, so I move with them. I see 3 fresh bottles of water on the ground, just like I asked for. I pull out the bag of needles and hand each of them 2 clean needles, putting one on the ground for myself.
“You got the Q-tips,” I whisper, looking towards Kace. His hand is already outstretched, a Q tip in it. I open the water bottle and put the bottle cap on the floor, beginning to prepare my shot of furanylfentanyl as quietly as I can, while they break up their dilaudids. The phones are propped up on the floor, giving me an eerie feeling. I have seen this before.
Déjà vu hits, and something inside me works to flash me back to my horrible half-ounce psilocybin trip. I suppress the embodied, hellish memories and the feelings of absolute terror, doom, and panic by preparing the shot as fast as I can.
“Where are you going after this?” Kace whispers to me, while we all work. I don’t even know the third boy, I only know that his name is Shane, he is white, he came here from the east coast, he’s in his 20s, and that he came to the wrong place if he wants to survive and recover from his addiction.
“I might go get a hotel, depends on how I feel,” I whisper back.
“Well, take a piece of this, mix it in there, that’ll help,” Kace whispers, his hand outstretched with a shard of meth in it. Meth is Kace’s panacea. I hesitate for a second, only because I know that this meth came from Sloan, which means it came from Lucky, which means it is very clean and very, very strong.
A small amount added to my shot of furry would ensure that I could stay awake for a little while longer. Now that I am coming down from the 2-day cocaine binge and haven’t yet slept, I run the risk of passing out at any moment.
“Maybe I should, just to be on the safe side,” I whisper, before involuntarily watching my hand take the small shard of meth and add it to the bottle cap. I take pleasure in the fact that this is fresh water from a clean water bottle, a fresh cotton, a clean bottle cap, and drugs that I sourced myself and am familiar with.
Listen to you, Lonnie. This is your third day in a row, and now that you don’t have cocaine, you’re doing meth? You were chugging cough syrup, you went on a cocaine binge, now you’re doing some goddamn meth? The dirtiest, most disgusting drug on the planet? And you’re selling it to these poor kids, at their sober living? Shame on you.
I shake my head slightly, hoping to shut it up.
I push the limits in my preparation of the dose: adding meth to this shot enables me to add more furanylfentanyl than I normally would, since the meth will keep me awake and therefore alive. I look up from the phone light when I am done, and I am surprised to see somebody else is done prepping and has completed their injection before me.
“Whoa, god damn,” Shane whispers. I chuckle.
“He’s never done a dilaudid before,” Kace whispers. I can hear the smile on Kace’s face, even in the darkness. I don’t smile, for something terrible has happened on this night. Shane’s soul has been infected by another parasite, and I will burn in the deepest level of Hell for being the one that brought it to him.
“Can you light me up?” I ask. One of the phone lights turns towards me. I find a vein quickly and easily, though I am having to rotate injection sites constantly. I cap the needle when it’s done and lean back, putting my hands on the concrete floor of the garage behind me. I count mentally, and barely make it past 3.
Every cell that I consist of alights with the jolting electric euphoria of meth. My chest tightens with power and ecstasy. I feel electric light waves of raw energy emanating from my heart as my heart rate dramatically increases with feelings of excited arousal.
All weakness and negativity have disappeared from my body. I could fight a tiger right now. I should go play basketball right now. I’d be unstoppable. I’d win every game. Nobody else would even have a chance.
“Fuck, I hate meth,” I whisper, overly alert, my heart racing in my ears. Now it feels like the house manager will open the door any second. Police are certainly watching us. My heart races in nonstop anticipation; I can feel my heartbeat in my trembling hands. Only the massive shot of furry I did can prevent the paranoia from causing me to panic. I take solace in the sensations of peace and relaxation that underlie the meth high. My lady, the Opioid - even though She is the cold, robotic Miss Furryfent, She is with me. I have nothing to fear.
“Nobody hates meth,” Kace whispers.
“It’s too good. It makes me feel too powerful. It makes me feel crazy,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Shane whispers, as we watch Kace inject himself. There are a few seconds of silence, all of us waiting for Kace to get his rush.
“Shit, that dilaudid gives you a good rush. I forgot how good it is,” Kace whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, before standing up. I walk to the exit, loath to be physically alone again, even though I feel lonely all the time. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I know that this is another place that I am not welcome. The world is shrinking around me by the day. I am wearing out my welcome at the few places I am still allowed to go.
I need to go back to another treatment center, but life feels hopeless. More talk therapy, more 12-step meetings, more jail-rehabs, more vacation-rehabs – none of it has worked for me, and more of the same thing won’t help me. I am so hooked on these drugs; the drugs are a torrent, and every method of treatment is like a two-by-four piece of wood laying in the way. These drugs have my soul. Death is closing in on me.
“Thanks for coming out here. Be safe, brother,” Kace whispers, before closing the door behind me. I hear it lock, which hurts my feelings, even though I don’t blame him for locking me out. I’d lock me out, too.
I step out into a warm summer California night – back into a world that I don’t belong in; back into a world that doesn't want me.
Where are you going to go, Lonnie?
Not here. Anywhere but here. I start walking, and then start jogging across the street. Surprisingly, I feel no pain in my ankles at all. Jogging feels good. I make it across the street, and then keep jogging.
I jog up to my car. I open the door and get in it. I sit for a second. I check in on my body.
I feel amazing. I could run 3 miles right now. I feel great. I should keep moving.
I check in with my stomach. Although I couldn’t be less hungry, I know I need to consume some nutrients, even if they’re just liquid. I've been injecting cocaine continuously; I haven’t eaten a solid meal or slept in days.
I know what to do. I put my drugs and paraphernalia in the center console of my car. I get out of the car with only my phone, wallet, and keys in my pockets. I lock the car, checking it twice so it registers in my meth-addled brain, which is often riddled with unreasonable paranoia, that it is locked, and nobody can steal my drugs.
I start to walk away from my car, then stop mid-step. What if Kace or one of those guys comes looking for my car, knowing that it is full of drugs?
I am frozen with indecision. I notice I am licking my lips with overstimulation and force myself to stop my tongue. My heart is racing. I’m shaking with excitation. My brain is screaming at my body to do something, but I don't know what to do. They will certainly come looking for my car, hungry for more drugs.
You're being ridiculous, Lonnie. Nobody is going to steal your drugs.
I tell my feet to move. They won't move. I feel the urge to scream. I have to get away from here, I have to do something.
I start to jog again. I can get a quick workout in and get my brain to shut up at the same time. I start to jog, doing the old breathing trick I did when I was a kid trying to run the fastest 1-mile time in gym class.
I focus on my breath, to which I apply a specific breathing pattern. In, in, out. I jog, and I breathe. I jog, and then I jog faster, and my breathing sharpens – and then I jog even faster. I jog out of the neighborhood and onto the main road that connects these huge, gorgeous housing developments in Huntington Beach. I jog in the direction of a gas station that I know is just down the street from me.
I jog, and my mind turns to college basketball. I visualize myself playing in my mind, shooting 3-pointers and knowing that they’re in the hoop as soon as they leave my hand. I shoot a few more 3-pointers in my mind before losing myself completely.
The big, bright, lights, the smell of the hardwood, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor and echoing off of every wall. The sound of solitude, and hard work, and everything that is good in life. The sound of the ball hitting nothing but net. Watching the net flip up after a perfect swish. I take myself back to some of my favorite moments playing basketball: back to Frederick, Maryland, where I scored 16 points on an overseas professional in a competitive men’s league game.
Back to West Palm Beach, Florida, where I got invited to try out for the semi-pro ABA team, the Miami Storm.
Back to Atlanta, GA, where I got made fun for doing ball handling drills with a tennis ball and then picked last, only to lead my team to victory several times in a row, scoring almost all of our points, winning in silence.
Showing up day in and day out, scoring and shooting and winning. Even when I was losing, I was getting better, so I was winning.
I press onward, jogging harder. I am going to play college basketball. Nothing is going to stop me. I notice that my shirt, which is drenched in sweat, is sticking to my skin. I peel my shirt off, barely slowing my pace. I glance up and to my right. There is a brown apartment complex. I throw my shirt in one of the bushes, making a mental note to get it out of the bush on my way back, certain that I’ll remember exactly how it landed in the bushes and precisely where it is.
I start to jog again, pretending that I have a basketball. I cross the invisible ball back and forth on the sidewalk, going out of my way to cross bushes up, crossing the imaginary ball hard and then going straight into a spin move. I lose myself in the movements. Thoughts cease, and there is nothing but my instinct telling me which dribble move to pantomime next against invisible defenders.
I stop. Why am I even going to the gas station? I should just get my car, go to 24-hour fitness, and play basketball for real. I turn around and start the journey back the way I came. I continue to run and do fake basketball moves on the shadow people. Finally, I find myself back in the residential neighborhood of Huntington Beach that my car is in.
I look around again. Is this the right neighborhood? Where am I? I walk around, looking for a landmark or something that I recognize.
There was something I was supposed to remember.
That’s right, I have to get to work. I need to find my car.
A white truck pulls up in the street next to me and stops.
That’s right, there’s a white truck coming to pick me up and take me to work! I walk up to the white truck, which has stopped in the middle of the road. Though the windows are tinted, I know that Todd is in this truck, and that he is here to pick me up to take me to Cinepolis for work. I pull on the passenger side door handle of the truck, so I can get in and go to work. The handle slips out of my hand when the door doesn’t pop open. The truck starts to drive away.
Why would Todd do that to me?! I look up at the sky. The sun is coming up? Shit, I’m going to be late for work now! I jog away from the truck. I need to go back to Todd’s house. I jog up to Todd’s house, which is the brown house right down the street. I walk up to the door and twist the doorknob. It doesn’t open.
Of course, it didn’t open, dumbass. Todd went to work.
I jog away. How am I going to get to work? I jog some more and start to feel sick.
Where am I?
“HEY! You left your stuff, like, way back there!” a random lady yells at me. I look at her, and then around at my surroundings. I don’t know where I am.
“What?” I yell back at her.
“You took your shorts off and left your stuff, like, way back there. I’ve been watching you. I think you should go home!” she yells, from across the street. I reach for my pockets.
I look down at my lower half. I have no shorts on. I am wearing nothing but black Nike compression underpants and basketball shoes. Realization strikes me like a thunderbolt: I have been running around in a state of meth-induced delusion for the entire night, playing with an invisible basketball.
I jog across the street, over to the lady.
“I’m sorry. I had a little too much to drink last night. Do you mind showing me where I left my stuff?” I ask, evaluating the woman. She is in her 40’s or 50’s, with long dark hair and a kind face. She has a small dog with her. He looks like a mutt.
“I figured. I was walking my dog, and saw you take your shorts off. I wanted to stop you when you tried to get in the truck, but I thought maybe you knew them. Then you tried to get in that house. You seemed very confused and out of it. Your pants are back this way,” she says, walking her dog down the sidewalk, back the way I came.
“Thanks,” I say, too embarrassed and ashamed to say much else. The sun is up. I try to walk naturally, like I am wearing pants instead of not wearing pants, which is a difficult thing to do. She leads me several minutes down the sidewalk, to somebody’s front yard. I see my shorts sitting in the grass in somebody’s yard, right by the sidewalk. I grab my shorts and put them on. My wallet and my phone are still in the pockets.
My keys. Shit, where are my keys?
“Do you know where my keys are?” I ask the woman, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.
“No. I saw you take off your shorts here. I’ve been watching you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I wouldn’t be surprised if police are on their way,” she says, her eyebrows raised at me knowingly.
“Ok. Well, thanks for your help. I’m going to go. My house is in the neighborhood over there,” I lie, pointing further away from her and walking away. The word “police” forces me into action. I powerwalk until she is out of sight, and then I start to jog again.
Jog faster, Lonnie. Train harder.
No. I have to slow down. I’m becoming psychotic from overexertion, lack of nutrition, sleep deprivation, and methamphetamine. I have no drugs on me. I can slow down.
I force myself to start walking. I become aware, again, of my racing heart. It has been beating like this for days on end. It could easily explode and kill me at any second. Wait, when was the last time I did any opioids? The furanylfentanyl has been making me dopesick within 6 hours. I search my body for opioid effects. There are none.
I’m in the no man’s land between the opioid high and the withdrawal where I actually feel normal. The more I binge, the shorter the breaks become, and I’ve been binging, hard. If I feel normal now, that means I’ll be dopesick any second. I whine out loud. I want to scream up at the sky. My stomach starts to hurt terribly – it feels like it is bleeding.
I am dying.
I open my phone’s GPS and set it to my old sober living.
Shit, I don’t have a car key. I can’t get into my car! I call a locksmith, and then I start to run back towards the ironically named ‘sober living.’
I attempt to cling to reality.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington Beach. I am going to Jack’s sober living, so I can do some fentanyl, so I don’t get dopesick. I did some meth, and I haven’t slept or ate in days, so I might hallucinate. Hallucinations aren’t real.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington beach. I went to Florida for rehab for sniffing oxy, and I started to shoot dope. I came to California to stop shooting dope and picked up a meth habit.
STOP!
My name is Lonnie. The world would be better off if I were dead.
I start to walk. I can’t take this. I need some music. No, playing music would be suspicious. I start to jog again, trying not to think about my racing heart. I should focus on my breathing.
No, I can’t do that. That’s what made me go psychotic.
My name is Lonnie. I am going back to Jack’s sober living…

At the Triceradon’s hidden island “CRASH!” and Fox got thrown through a wall into a saltwater tide-pool
King Triceradon “Havoc! Fox McCloud came with his superior for a visit, so just chill out already!”
General Pepper “Are you alright, Fox?”
Fox “Don’t worry, l had much worser injuries before.”
General Havoc “Sorry about that! I lose my patience when invaders try to steal our aquatic collection of merfolk.”
General Pepper “It’s alright! I could have taken the punch before letting Fox get injured and changed into his merman appearance.”
Fox “And I forgot to bring my wheelchair again!”
the Triceradon’s servants brought a wheelchair for his transformed visitor
King Triceradon “Well, you are right about coming to visit us at a different timing. Though I was hoping your friends would have come as well…”
Fox “They’re all back in the Subspace Headquarters, so it’s only just us two that are visiting!”
General Havoc “Well now that you have arrived here, do you need anything new to wear since I damaged your uniform?”
Fox “Not really, unless you have an extra sleeveless shirt that fits my size.”
King Triceradon “My servants are going through the closet nearby to find what you have requested.”
General Pepper “So, which part of the galaxy did you come from?”
King Triceradon “We came from the TMNT universe, 4Kids versioned Turtles’ galaxy.”
Fox “Same galaxy that the Shredder came from, but from different worlds? Guessing he didn’t inform us about his origin.”
General Havoc “While I stayed behind on the island, he went to the different world and met the Warlord. He was reporting back when seeing the true form of Ch’rell…”
Fox “I guess I was astonished to see an Utrom in his fortress and not a real threat of the same person.”
King Triceradon “Well since you came to visit, do you want to go into the Grand Aquarium and interact with the merfolk residents?”
Fox “It would be an honor to meet with your aquatic friends while you are chatting with General Pepper out here!”
General Pepper “Like an excited kid ready to explore a new place!”
Fox enters the Grand Aquarium to interact with the underwater locals
General Havoc “While he’s in there chatting with the merfolk, tell us what you are really looking for!?”
General Pepper “Was thinking about rescuing some of the missing people from Corneria, but it seems just a few of the civilians are feeling relaxed here.”
King Triceradon “I did remember buying some canine mermen from the dark Octillean, and they were very calm when arriving at our island home.”
General Pepper “Those were my soldiers who were in Corneria before. Guessing they are still wondering about their families since they were abducted by the dark Octillean soldiers.”
General Havoc “When the soldiers came through in a transport aquarium, they were saluting in-front of me knowing who was the big dog!”
Merman Soldier saluting under Havoc “And we are glad that you didn’t go hard on us, Sir!”
King Triceradon “Guessing that answers your odd reaction!?”
General Pepper “A human living with a big dinosaur humanoid. Are you two like roommates or something more closer?”
King Triceradon “We were both enemies before coming to this galaxy!”
General Havoc “Our factions made peace after a technical ceasefire, while we still fought. Later we had a truce after escaping our prison.”
General Pepper “So how long did you stay near Corneria?”
General Havoc “Not long after the Shredder was living on a distant planet, we found an isolated island to create our new suitable home.”
King Triceradon “Later on I needed some company, so we built a grand aquarium and bought our first arrivals to interact with.”
General Havoc “Most of the merfolk were bought from the Dark Octillean, and some were washed up wanderers looking for a place to live from other worlds that were either overpopulated or fell into corruption.”
King Triceradon “Havoc was training most of the mermen to defend their new home against enemy invaders. And I was trying to reassure the mermaids to make them feel welcomed in their protective sanctuary. I even fostered a young orphan mermaid to be my daughter.”
General Pepper “The Dark Octillean’s soldiers have captured lots of innocent families. No wonder he has sorted them into separate groups.”
King Triceradon “I believe he was trying to have the hostages separated from their loved ones, but I like them better together.”
General Pepper “Since Fox is still interacting with most of the merfolk residents in your Grand Aquarium, I would like to meet the young mermaid that you are fostering.”
King Triceradon “Of course! Havoc, I’ll be bringing Pepper to my bedroom to see my foster daughter.”
General Havoc “Okay! I’ll be watching Fox McCloud then.”

So I’ve been managing to take a legitimate shower to wash my hair and such about once a week at my moms house. My mom is in a domestic abusive relationship who she lives with so when I go over there, it’s only when he’s not there(I can’t be there when he’s there, let’s just say it wouldn’t be good if he found out I’ve been sneaking over there). But he owns his own company and works when he wants to so this way isn’t exactly reliable for a shower. I clean up in gas station bathroom sinks daily or every other day in between the actual showers. That being said, I need a more reliable way to get clean. I have two job interviews Tuesday and I can’t go into a shift not clean if I get hired. How’s showering at places like planet fitness? Do they seem to care if people use their membership just to shower? Would they even notice? What’s some other options? I’m located in Charlotte, NC

Hi everybody, below is my list of anime, manga and light novels available for sale. Some new items have been added - anything that's in the timestamp but not listed below has been sold. - I've tried to address most potential questions below, but feel free to ask me any questions.
Please comment on the thread before sending me a PM or Chat message, especially given the new feedback system in place. Please make sure your shipping address is updated on your PayPal account before sending payment.
No holds for longer than 1-2 days and throw out the first offer if you want to negotiate, though prices are firm for some things.
I won't split any sets unless it's stated otherwise.
I'm a Canadian seller that is willing to ship to most places on this planet. Prices are based in Canadian dollars - the listed USD price is provided as a reference, as FX rates fluctuate slightly every day. (PayPal will automatically convert your USD/local currency to CAD when you pay.) Local pickup and payment can be arranged if you live in the Greater Toronto Area.
Timestamp

Anime:

Prices include shipping and tracking to Canada & the USA for anime. If you live anywhere else, I will need you to provide me with your postal code and country so I can provide you with a shipping quote.
Pics
Blood-C: The Last Dark (Blu-Ray+DVD, SAVE Edition) - $80 CAD / $61 USD
Ghastly Prince Enma Burning Up Premium Edition (Blu-Ray+DVD) - $300 CAD / $230 USD
Occult Academy Premium Edition (BD) - $220 CAD / $168.50 USD
The Story of Saiunkoku Season 1 Complete Collection (DVD) - $230 CAD / $176 USD

Books:

Shipping costs for single volumes of manga or light novels:
Canada - starts at $11 CAD with tracking, but can increase depending on distance, whether you live in an area that Canada Post deems as rural, and weight. I may consider shipping via Canada Post Lettermail ($7 CAD, no tracking provided) for books at or below $25 CAD if it fits within the size limits. Please provide me with your postal code for an accurate shipping quote.
USA - starts at $11 CAD (around $8.50 USD) including tracking for 1-2 normal sized volumes. Price will increase slightly for 3+ books and depending on weight and insurance.
Europe - starts at $15 CAD for one normal sized volume to most European countries. Please provide me with your postal code for an accurate shipping quote.
Anywhere else - I will need you to provide me with your postal code and country, so I can provide you with a shipping quote.
Light Novels:
Pics
Code Geass Lelouch of the Rebellion Stage 2 - Knight & Stage 3 - Sword - $150 CAD / $114.75 USD (Will Not Split)
The Asterisk War Vol. 3 - $130 CAD / $99.50 USD
Manga - Single Volumes:
Pics
20th Century Boys Vol. 22 - $100 CAD / $77.50 USD
A Drifting Life (spine has creasing) - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Biomega Vol. 3 - $75 CAD / $57.50 USD
Black God Vol. 11 - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Blood Blockade Battlefront Vol. 2 - $30 CAD / $23 USD (partial set also available below)
Boys Over Flowers Vol. 19 - $55 CAD / $42 USD
Boys Over Flowers Vol. 24 - $55 CAD / $42 USD
Casino Lily (BL, Sealed) - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Cowboy Bebop Vol. 3 - $30 CAD / $23 USD
Dr. Slump Vol. 16 - $110 CAD / $84 USD
Freezing Vol. 19-20 - $85 CAD / $65 USD
Haganai: I Don't Have Many Friends Vol. 8 - $45 CAD / $34.50 USD
He's My Only Vampire Vol. 4 - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Hey Class President! Vol. 1 (BL, Sealed) - $60 CAD / $46 USD
Highschool of the Dead Vol. 2 - $20 CAD / $15.50 USD
Innocent Bird Vol. 3 (BL) - $85 CAD / $65 USD
Inu x Boku SS Vol. 2 (front cover is bent inwards, but no creasing except for a small one by the X) - $20 CAD / $15.50 USD
JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 3 Vol. 1 (Paperback release, no Stardust Crusaders subtitle on the cover) - $20 CAD / $15.50 USD
Judge Vol. 6 (G3 condition) - $70 CAD / $53.50 USD
Kannazuki no Miko Vol. 1 (Sealed) - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Lady Snowblood Vol. 1 - $50 CAD / $38.50 USD
Kill la Kill Vol. 1 - $35 CAD / $27 USD
Knights of Sidonia Vol. 15 - $60 CAD / $46 USD
Magika Swordsman and Summoner Vol. 5 (has black remainder mark on the bottom) - $25 CAD / $19.50 USD
Monster Hunter: Flash Hunter Vol. 6 - $75 CAD / $57.50 USD
Neon Genesis Evangelion Vol. 13 - $45 CAD / $34.50 USD
Nodame Cantabile Vol. 13 - $50 CAD / $38.25 USD
Private Teacher! Vol. 3 (BL) - $183 CAD / $140 USD
Red River Vol. 1 - $25 CAD / $19 USD
Stay Close to Me - $70 CAD / $53.50 USD
Stepping on Roses Vol. 5 - $52.50 CAD / $40 USD
Strike the Blood Vol. 6 - $50 CAD / $38.25 USD
The Testament of Sister New Devil Storm! Vol. 3 - $85 CAD / $65 USD
This Ugly Yet Beautiful World Vol. 1 - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
To Love-Ru Vol. 5-6 - $60 CAD / $46 USD
Tokyo Babylon Omnibus Vol. 1 (G2-3 condition) - $35 CAD / $27 USD
Yowamushi Pedal Vol. 6 - $95 CAD / $72.50 USD
Yu-Gi-Oh! Millennium World Vol. 1 - $20 CAD / $15.50 USD
Manga - Sets:
Prices for sets include shipping and tracking to Canada and the USA. Other countries, please inquire for a shipping quote. Sets will not be split up unless stated otherwise!
Pics
Blood Blockade Battlefront Vol. 1-3 & 5-7 (Vol. 1 has a black remainder mark on the bottom) - $600 CAD / $459 USD (Separate vol. 2 also available above)
Blame! Vol. 1-2 (Tokyopop release) - $100 CAD / $76.50 USD
Breath Vol. 1-5 (BL, Complete Series) - $500 CAD / $382.50 USD
Eyeshield 21 Vol. 1-37 (Complete Series, Vol. 21-22 are sealed) - $1300 CAD / $995 USD
Fruits Basket Vol. 16 & 18-21 - $95 CAD / $72.50 USD, Vol. 16 available separately for $25 CAD / $19 USD including shipping to Canada and the USA
Gunsmith Cats Revised Edition Vol. 1-4 and Gunsmith Cats Burst Vol. 1-5 (Complete Series) - $750 CAD / $574 USD
Hey Class President! Vol. 1-2 - $185 CAD / $141.50 USD
Love Com (Lovely Complex) Vol. 1-15 - $690 CAD / $528 USD
Madness Vol. 1-2 (BL, Complete Series) - $40 CAD / $30.50 USD
Monster Vol. 4-6 (singles) - $95 CAD / $72.50 USD
Monster Vol. 4-6, 12 and 15 (singles) - $135 CAD / $103.25 USD; Vol. 12 separately is $50 CAD / $38.25 USD including shipping to Canada and the USA; Vol. 15 separately is $50 CAD / $38.25 USD including shipping to Canada and the USA
Please Tell Me! Galko-chan Vol. 1-2 - $115 CAD / $89 USD
Rabbit Man, Tiger Man Vol. 1-2 (BL) - $195 CAD / $149 USD
Tegami Bachi Vol. 2-7 - $95 CAD / $72.50 USD
The Big O Vol. 1-6 (Complete Series) - $217 CAD / $160 USD
Tokyo Babylon omnibus Vol. 1-2 (Dark Horse release) - $175 CAD / $134 USD (separate Vol. 1 available)
Toriko Vol. 1-6 (Vol. 2 is in G3 condition) - $120 CAD / $92 USD
Triage X Vol. 1-11 (Vol. 11 is Sealed) - $550 CAD / $421 USD
Vagabond Vol. 3-12 (Single Volume release) - $440 CAD / $336.50 USD