Life size picture of a metric ruler
Fridge Detective
2018.10.11 23:01 KadenCG Fridge Detective
A subreddit where you post a picture of what is in your refrigerator and people deduce things about you and your life based on your fridge.
2013.01.29 00:24 aelendel Is it a meteorite, or is it slag?
Dedicated to identifying mysterious rocks and minerals.
2018.03.23 05:49 specfreader From cute to majestic
For before and after pictures of kittens as they grow up.
2024.04.29 00:05 ok-toe6280 Not a call for action or consolation
Just a hope that you can see my bigger picture . Can I get a “ohhhhhh I see”? Cause I’m on the brink you see. Of completely and utterly losing hope. Of believing.
That I have the ability to make life good. That my remaining years mean something. That I’m a good person. That I can make it through this world. That I can be happy again.
This has no connection with romance or lack of it. This is about waking up and living my life, going out to the world and being somebody. It’s about how I connect and relate to others. It’s about my will and zest for life. My inner light dimmed. My joy reduced. My belief in myself shattered.
I feel it stronger than I ever have before. I feel desperate. Is this my existential crisis? Unlike you, I have absolutely no one. I don’t have people I can talk to who can help me get better. I honestly thought you were my new person who understood me and believed in me. I was excited, until that was replaced with the complete opposite: suspicion, negativity, judgment and not understanding. On top of everything I was already going through, it was pretty devastating. Recently if you had a negative tone I couldn’t even hear what you were saying because whether you mean to or not your words always cut deeply. The ongoing campaign just killed me inside. I’ve heard you justify this and that killed me too.
When I did approach you, I needed us to take a different tack but you don’t take it easy on me. Always testing me. Except I didn’t have the stamina to get through your disapproval of my improv. I didn’t know it was possible to get it wrong. After my 400th try, I just gave up. You never thought it through and helped me to succeed, just made it hard and blamed me when I failed. This is deeply unfair. Are you surprised with the outcome?
It wasn’t exactly what I wanted but you left me no choice. I still think of you. I still love you. I still think of us. But Ive lost my spark. Im sorry.
submitted by ok-toe6280 to Unsent_Unread_Unheard [link] [comments]
That I have the ability to make life good. That my remaining years mean something. That I’m a good person. That I can make it through this world. That I can be happy again.
This has no connection with romance or lack of it. This is about waking up and living my life, going out to the world and being somebody. It’s about how I connect and relate to others. It’s about my will and zest for life. My inner light dimmed. My joy reduced. My belief in myself shattered.
I feel it stronger than I ever have before. I feel desperate. Is this my existential crisis? Unlike you, I have absolutely no one. I don’t have people I can talk to who can help me get better. I honestly thought you were my new person who understood me and believed in me. I was excited, until that was replaced with the complete opposite: suspicion, negativity, judgment and not understanding. On top of everything I was already going through, it was pretty devastating. Recently if you had a negative tone I couldn’t even hear what you were saying because whether you mean to or not your words always cut deeply. The ongoing campaign just killed me inside. I’ve heard you justify this and that killed me too.
When I did approach you, I needed us to take a different tack but you don’t take it easy on me. Always testing me. Except I didn’t have the stamina to get through your disapproval of my improv. I didn’t know it was possible to get it wrong. After my 400th try, I just gave up. You never thought it through and helped me to succeed, just made it hard and blamed me when I failed. This is deeply unfair. Are you surprised with the outcome?
It wasn’t exactly what I wanted but you left me no choice. I still think of you. I still love you. I still think of us. But Ive lost my spark. Im sorry.
2024.04.29 00:05 HughEhhoule Bait Dog
“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.
submitted by HughEhhoule to nosleep [link] [comments]
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.
2024.04.29 00:04 HughEhhoule Bait Dog
“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.
submitted by HughEhhoule to Pituniverse [link] [comments]
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.
2024.04.29 00:03 Tiara8840783 23M - Birmingham. I miss my dog and would love to see some dog pics
Seeking long-term friends who share a passion for movies and art and can share "captivating" stuff (books, philosophy, music), including adorable dog pictures. Must be 18+. Feel free to reach out with your age, gender, and location. I like - cigarettes after sex, arctic monkeys I loved - tree of life, fight club, lord of the rings
submitted by Tiara8840783 to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]
2024.04.29 00:01 BoredomMinusZero $45k budget - I'm researching myself to death and would love to know your opinions!
I have a 2013 Honda Civic with 150k miles on it that I planned to drive into the ground. I'm at a place in my life where it makes more sense to upgrade now and pick out my ideal car instead of waiting for the Civic to die and have to make a quick decision.
I'd like a bigger vehicle but I don't want to sacrifice fuel efficiency. I'm not a car guy at all so I'm fascinated to learn about all of the new tech and safety features in modern cars. I love a HUD, 360 camera, adaptive cruise control, lane assist, etc. The following cars are on my short list that seem to check the boxes for size, efficiency, tech, and price range but would love to know what cars I may be overlooking.
submitted by BoredomMinusZero to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]
I'd like a bigger vehicle but I don't want to sacrifice fuel efficiency. I'm not a car guy at all so I'm fascinated to learn about all of the new tech and safety features in modern cars. I love a HUD, 360 camera, adaptive cruise control, lane assist, etc. The following cars are on my short list that seem to check the boxes for size, efficiency, tech, and price range but would love to know what cars I may be overlooking.
- Tesla Model Y Long Range
- I wish the interior had a little more character but other than that I love everything about it. I drive about 300 miles per week and pass 3 superchargers on my daily commute but would only be able to level 1 charge at home for the first year of ownership.
- Toyota Rav4 Hybrid (and Prime)
- Really like how these drive, the size is ideal, and has options for all the tech I like. This is annoying, but I don't like that everywhere I look there are 10 other Rav4s on the road - I'd prefer something a little more unique.
- Jeep Grand Cherokee 4xe
- To me, this car is like the Rav4 Prime but with an extra cool factor. Jeep's reliability concerns me and is it even worth it to get a PHEV if I can only level 1 charge for the first year?
- Toyota Crown
- The only sedan I'm considering. Checks all of the boxes except for size. It's an awesome car, but if I plan on owning it for the next 10 years I can see myself outgrowing even a large sedan.
2024.04.29 00:01 deuxdrop0000 Sooo
 | Remember the Kali and Jorja Tour? I was still a fan at this point and when they announced a joint tour with THIS picture I was like “ikyfl”. Jorja looks gorgeous and completely normal, Kali on the other hand, girl are you serious? I knew she looked insane but I haven’t thought much about how odd this picture was in a while. But I was doing some research for another post I was planning on doing when this stopped me in my tracks. The full poster did have a bit of a grain effect, but the first pic as you can see here is a clear cropped picture of both of them with no effect on the picture. Jorja looks normal, but you can see Kali has some weird stuff going on around her face. Like there is literally nothing on Jorja’s face in comparison. Kali has this weird glitter like thing around parts of her face that look the least like her natural features. So I decided to do some shitty editing (sorry I don’t have photoshop or anything professional), and you can see it looks a bit more like Kali. A normal sized neck and face, wonky eyes, a not super perky nose, a not super pouty pout (even though she was getting fillers at the time), a wider face. This was the “photoshop, butt pads, and ‘what work?’” era to prep for all her work that she would eventually get done later in 2019. The Kali Jorja Tour was May 2019 and if you watch literally any clip or look at any pics from the tour, Kali is wearing her funky butt pads and her belly/waist looked completely different from how she would photoshop them to be, so that when she got her bbl and could have “proof” she’d been “slim thick” for a while. She’d been prepping since at least 2018 as I’ve posted a video of her performing in 2018 with obvious butt pads. Calculated, photoshopped Kali. submitted by deuxdrop0000 to kaliuchissnark [link] [comments] |
2024.04.29 00:00 FappidyDat [H] TF2 Keys & PayPal [W] Humble Bundle Games (Also Games From Past Bundles), Bad Rats
Notes:
I pay with the following:
TF2 & PayPal
IGS Rep Page:
https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/ggsaik/fappidydats_igs_rep_page/
SteamTrades Rep Page (1000+):
https://www.steamtrades.com/use76561198097671494
GameTrade Rep Page:
https://www.reddit.com/GameTradeRep/comments/ggrz1y/fappidydats_gametrade_rep_page/?
SGSFlair Rep Page:
https://www.reddit.com/sgsflaicomments/ggag04/flair_profile_ufappidydat/
submitted by FappidyDat to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]
- I am EXTREMELY busy. I try to check my messages at least once per day, but sometimes it could take up to 3-4 days. Please be patient if I don't get back to you immediately. Thank you!
- I buy only in Unrevealed Key Link Format or Plain Steam Keys. No gift links.
- For PayPal, I am in the US region and I only send via G&S. Please note there will be PayPal fees (including international/conversion and purchasing fees) to consider.
- All games that you sell to me should ideally be REGION-FREE. Please ensure the games are not region-locked/bound to a specific country.
- You must be willing to fill a spreadsheet with steam keys.
I pay with the following:
TF2 & PayPal
| I BUY HB Games | with TF2 | with PayPal | Currently Active Humble Bundle? |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7 Days to Die | 0.8 TF2 | $1.55 PP | - |
| A Little To The Left | 2.2 TF2 | $4.14 PP | - |
| Airport CEO | 5.0 TF2 | $9.55 PP | - |
| Alien: Isolation | 2.7 TF2 | $5.12 PP | - |
| Aliens: Fireteam Elite | 1.4 TF2 | $2.69 PP | - |
| Arma 3 | 4.2 TF2 | $8.0 PP | - |
| Assetto Corsa Ultimate Edition | 1.7 TF2 | $3.28 PP | - |
| Automobilista 2 | 1.6 TF2 | $3.04 PP | - |
| BIOMUTANT | 1.5 TF2 | $2.85 PP | - |
| BROFORCE | 0.6 TF2 | $1.21 PP | - |
| Baldur's Gate II: Enhanced Edition | 0.9 TF2 | $1.74 PP | - |
| Baldur's Gate: Enhanced Edition | 0.7 TF2 | $1.38 PP | - |
| Barony | 3.1 TF2 | $5.8 PP | - |
| Barotrauma | 4.1 TF2 | $7.87 PP | - |
| Batman - The Telltale Series | 1.3 TF2 | $2.43 PP | - |
| Batman Arkham Collection | 2.0 TF2 | $3.74 PP | - |
| Batman: Arkham Knight | 0.8 TF2 | $1.44 PP | - |
| Batman: Arkham Origins | 0.6 TF2 | $1.22 PP | - |
| Batman™: Arkham Knight Premium Edition | 1.0 TF2 | $1.94 PP | - |
| Bayonetta | 0.7 TF2 | $1.3 PP | - |
| Bendy and the Dark Revival | 0.4 TF2 | $0.75 PP | - |
| Beyond Two Souls | 1.7 TF2 | $3.15 PP | - |
| Blasphemous | 1.3 TF2 | $2.53 PP | - |
| Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night | 0.6 TF2 | $1.17 PP | - |
| Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition | 4.9 TF2 | $9.32 PP | - |
| Borderlands 3 | 2.6 TF2 | $4.86 PP | - |
| Borderlands: The Handsome Collection | 3.5 TF2 | $6.56 PP | - |
| Celeste | 0.8 TF2 | $1.55 PP | - |
| Chernobylite Enhanced Edition | 0.9 TF2 | $1.76 PP | - |
| Cities: Skylines | 2.2 TF2 | $4.23 PP | - |
| Code Vein | 1.2 TF2 | $2.26 PP | - |
| Company of Heroes 2 | 0.7 TF2 | $1.38 PP | - |
| Conan Exiles | 2.1 TF2 | $4.01 PP | - |
| Contractors | 2.3 TF2 | $4.35 PP | - |
| Control Ultimate Edition | 2.4 TF2 | $4.52 PP | - |
| Crusader Kings III | 4.6 TF2 | $8.77 PP | - |
| DARK SOULS™ II: Scholar of the First Sin | 4.8 TF2 | $9.16 PP | - |
| DEATH STRANDING DIRECTOR'S CUT | 4.4 TF2 | $8.35 PP | - |
| DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE 2 | 2.6 TF2 | $4.94 PP | - |
| Dark Souls III | 6.7 TF2 | $12.78 PP | - |
| Dark Souls III: Deluxe Edition | 9.9 TF2 | $18.86 PP | - |
| Darkest Dungeon | 0.6 TF2 | $1.18 PP | - |
| DayZ | 10.9 TF2 | $20.73 PP | - |
| Dead Island - Definitive Edition | 0.5 TF2 | $1.01 PP | - |
| Dead Island Definitive Collection | 1.0 TF2 | $1.99 PP | - |
| Dead Island Riptide Definitive Edition | 0.6 TF2 | $1.18 PP | - |
| Dead Rising | 1.0 TF2 | $1.92 PP | - |
| Dead Rising® 2 | 1.0 TF2 | $1.81 PP | - |
| Dead by Daylight | 3.3 TF2 | $6.19 PP | - |
| Deep Rock Galactic | 3.0 TF2 | $5.68 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: Beyond Light | 1.1 TF2 | $2.09 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: Bungie 30th Anniversary Pack | 1.3 TF2 | $2.48 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: Forsaken Pack | 1.0 TF2 | $1.97 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: Lightfall | 4.2 TF2 | $7.97 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: Shadowkeep | 1.1 TF2 | $2.04 PP | - |
| Destiny 2: The Witch Queen | 2.0 TF2 | $3.77 PP | - |
| Destroy All Humans! 2 - Reprobed | 0.7 TF2 | $1.41 PP | - |
| Devil May Cry HD Collection | 1.8 TF2 | $3.45 PP | - |
| Devil May Cry® 4 Special Edition | 1.2 TF2 | $2.32 PP | - |
| DiRT Rally | 0.6 TF2 | $1.17 PP | - |
| Disco Elysium - The Final Cut | 1.6 TF2 | $2.95 PP | - |
| Doom Eternal | 2.2 TF2 | $4.17 PP | - |
| Dragon Ball FighterZ | 2.1 TF2 | $3.93 PP | - |
| Dragons Dogma - Dark Arisen | 1.1 TF2 | $2.06 PP | - |
| Dungeon Defenders | 3.0 TF2 | $5.78 PP | - |
| Dusk | 0.7 TF2 | $1.38 PP | - |
| EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 5 | 4.3 TF2 | $8.2 PP | - |
| ELEX II | 0.8 TF2 | $1.57 PP | - |
| Europa Universalis IV | 3.2 TF2 | $6.16 PP | - |
| Expeditions: Rome | 0.5 TF2 | $0.9 PP | - |
| FTL: Faster Than Light | 0.7 TF2 | $1.41 PP | - |
| Farming Simulator 19 | 1.9 TF2 | $3.54 PP | - |
| For The King | 0.5 TF2 | $0.92 PP | - |
| Forager | 1.2 TF2 | $2.3 PP | - |
| Frostpunk | 1.0 TF2 | $1.97 PP | - |
| GRID 2 | 1.9 TF2 | $3.69 PP | - |
| Gang Beasts | 2.6 TF2 | $4.97 PP | - |
| Gas Station Simulator | 4.3 TF2 | $8.22 PP | - |
| Generation Zero® | 0.7 TF2 | $1.36 PP | - |
| Ghostbusters: The Video Game Remastered | 0.5 TF2 | $0.98 PP | - |
| Ghostwire Tokyo | 1.4 TF2 | $2.69 PP | - |
| Goat Simulator | 0.5 TF2 | $0.97 PP | - |
| Golf It! | 1.4 TF2 | $2.68 PP | - |
| Gotham Knights | 1.8 TF2 | $3.39 PP | - |
| Graveyard Keeper | 0.7 TF2 | $1.32 PP | - |
| Grim Dawn | 2.5 TF2 | $4.66 PP | - |
| Hell Let Loose | 7.5 TF2 | $14.32 PP | - |
| Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice | 1.4 TF2 | $2.69 PP | - |
| Hitman Absolution | 0.4 TF2 | $0.79 PP | - |
| Hollow Knight | 3.1 TF2 | $5.82 PP | - |
| Homeworld Remastered Collection | 0.4 TF2 | $0.77 PP | - |
| Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number | 0.7 TF2 | $1.34 PP | - |
| Hotline Miami | 0.5 TF2 | $0.88 PP | - |
| House Flipper | 2.0 TF2 | $3.81 PP | - |
| Injustice 2 Legendary Edition | 0.6 TF2 | $1.22 PP | - |
| Into the Radius VR | 2.6 TF2 | $4.95 PP | - |
| Jurassic World Evolution 2 | 2.7 TF2 | $5.15 PP | - |
| Just Cause 3 XXL Edition | 1.5 TF2 | $2.79 PP | - |
| Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes | 1.6 TF2 | $3.11 PP | - |
| Kerbal Space Program | 1.7 TF2 | $3.17 PP | - |
| Killing Floor 2 | 0.5 TF2 | $0.94 PP | - |
| Kingdom: Two Crowns | 1.0 TF2 | $1.92 PP | - |
| LEGO Marvel Super Heroes 2 - Deluxe Edition | 0.8 TF2 | $1.61 PP | - |
| LEGO Star Wars : The Complete Saga | 0.5 TF2 | $1.03 PP | - |
| LEGO Star Wars III: The Clone Wars | 0.6 TF2 | $1.07 PP | - |
| LEGO® City Undercover | 0.8 TF2 | $1.5 PP | - |
| LEGO® Jurassic World™ | 0.8 TF2 | $1.5 PP | - |
| Labyrinthine | 1.7 TF2 | $3.16 PP | - |
| Lethal League Blaze | 1.2 TF2 | $2.25 PP | - |
| Life is Strange 2 Complete Season | 1.4 TF2 | $2.59 PP | - |
| Life is Strange: True Colors | 1.5 TF2 | $2.93 PP | - |
| Little Nightmares | 1.1 TF2 | $2.05 PP | - |
| Loop Hero | 0.9 TF2 | $1.65 PP | - |
| METAL GEAR SOLID V: THE PHANTOM PAIN | 3.5 TF2 | $6.59 PP | - |
| METAL GEAR SOLID V: The Definitive Experience | 3.5 TF2 | $6.62 PP | - |
| MONSTER HUNTER RISE | 3.6 TF2 | $6.88 PP | - |
| Mad Max | 0.7 TF2 | $1.26 PP | - |
| Mafia: Definitive Edition | 2.5 TF2 | $4.67 PP | - |
| Mass Effect™ Legendary Edition | 4.2 TF2 | $8.01 PP | - |
| MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries | 2.6 TF2 | $4.9 PP | - |
| Men of War: Assault Squad 2 Deluxe Edition | 1.1 TF2 | $2.06 PP | - |
| Metro 2033 Redux | 0.5 TF2 | $1.01 PP | - |
| Metro Exodus | 1.5 TF2 | $2.83 PP | - |
| Metro Redux Bundle | 0.8 TF2 | $1.56 PP | - |
| Middle-earth™: Shadow of War™ Definitive Edition | 0.9 TF2 | $1.65 PP | - |
| Midnight Ghost Hunt | 0.8 TF2 | $1.53 PP | - |
| Monster Hunter: World | 2.3 TF2 | $4.35 PP | - |
| Mordhau | 2.2 TF2 | $4.17 PP | - |
| Mortal Kombat XL | 0.7 TF2 | $1.28 PP | - |
| Mortal Shell | 0.5 TF2 | $0.99 PP | - |
| NASCAR Heat 5 - Ultimate Edition | 0.4 TF2 | $0.72 PP | - |
| NBA 2K23 | 5.3 TF2 | $10.16 PP | - |
| Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 4 | 1.9 TF2 | $3.58 PP | - |
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https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/ggsaik/fappidydats_igs_rep_page/
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2024.04.28 23:58 TheRealSuperbaum CHODIAC decoded Part 1 of ?
 | What we know so far up to and including Ep.247 (Episode 4 / Part 3 of the Zodiac Series; Part 5 of Project 8.) submitted by TheRealSuperbaum to ChilluminatiPod [link] [comments] Project H or Project 8 consist of a series of episodes about 8 themes, hinted at with 8 clues: HIDDEN, HEAVYWEIGHTS, HORSE, HEAD, HELLO, HUGE, HIMAGAIN and HERO. 5 of these 8 clues have been revealed to be concerning 5 episodes (incl. multipart episodes): * HIDDEN - Alien Conspiracy, Ep.218 * HEAVYWEIGHTS - Wrestling, Ep.219 * HORSE - The Denver Airport Conspiracy, Ep.228 * HEAD - The Dreams Series, Ep.237, Ep.238, Ep.243 * HELLO - The Zodiac Killer Series, Ep.245, Ep.246, Ep.247, Ep.248 In episode 1 of part 1 of the Zodiac Killer Series (Ep.245) we received 2 spoken clues: TYRSFVCTZYQDHIPGQIPDOZZZ and BAVHETMHORIUIQ Together with these 2 ciphers we received 3 hints: * DECIPHER - points to the idea that the letters are in fact ciphers. * ROT - points to the ROT-Cipher, most prominently known maybe is the Caesar cipher. Which is a basic letter shift cipher (e.g. ROT1= A=B, B=C, C=D ... you shift the alphabet 1 letter up). * VISIONARY - Mr. Vigenere was a prominent smart dude back in the days and made a more complicated cipher using a key that was ROT decoded on top of the text being decoded. Just google "Vigenere Cipher" and you will find all the info you need. :-) For Example: The first Project 8 clue HIDDEN and apply a ROT8 encode (because H is the 8th letter of the alphabet) and it becomes PQLLMV. The letters PQLLMV are the key for the 1st Chodiac clue TYRSFVCTZYQDHIPGQIPDOZZZ. You can manually decipher this, using a fancy cipher table, or if you are lazy like me, you find a gazillion online tools to decode Vigenere ciphers. The clean decoded text becomes: EIGHT AND ONE IS SEVEN AND ONE. Or in short: HIDDEN PQLLMV TYRSFVCTZYQDHIPGQIPDOZZZ EIGHT AND ONE IS SEVEN AND ONE HEAVYWEIGHTS PMIDGEMQOPBA BAVHETMHORIUIQ MONEY PARACHUTE HORSE PWZAM IDHRFNBHVQRKUEDJL THIRTY FIVE COVER UP HEAD PMIL IUOSIEPZTEWYITMZITMCUAWE TIGHT SHOES ON THE OTHER FOOT HELLO PMTTW Ep.247 picture cipher HUGE PCOM TGBDTPWMPQMSRCHAPCOQXQWMSOQXCNRAGTRDKOFYPXGZTTWU HIMAGAIN PQUIOIQV Ep.248 picture cipher EIGHTANDONEISWHENTHISISALLDONEANDWHENSEVENHAVEGONETHELASTONEISFUNSEEYOUSOONYOUALREADYHAVEEVERYTHINGYOUNEED HERO PMZW not used yet? still HIDDEN? Am I slowly going insane? So come August it looks like Project 8 comes to an end. With maybe a two part finale? "By August 1th and 7th, this is all done." Also emphazied with the final? clue from Ep.248: EIGHT AND ONE IS WHEN THIS IS ALL DONE AND WHEN SEVEN HAVE GONE THE LAST ONE IS FUN SEE YOU SOON YOU ALREADY HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED
Anyway the message is a long rant about to seek Chodiac in person jadda jadda ;-) but it includes another long cipher see 6. for the HUGE/PCOM clue.
This is what PCOM gets you: EENRENIAAOYGCATOAAAEIOIADMCLNLDORRDRVMRMAVSNERII Sorry but maybe I made a mistake somewhere? No clue.
My predictions are for now: Episode 8 - HERO - Real life super heroes (saw the idea in a different post) Episode 7 - HIMAGAIN - D.B. Cooper Episode 6 - HUGE - JFK or in any other order, Cooper = Hero, RL Superheros = Huge... IDK. Or the clues that I was unable to decipher give more clarity. Maybe? I spent way too much time looking for hidden messages in audio spectrograms, and Steganography. !!! But there is a hidden Bat in the Ep.248 picture cipher :-) !!! Chodiac is Batman!? Tools I used: Audacity, GIMP, decodedotfr, AZdecrypt (the tool that was used to decipher Zodiac), Google doc for OCR detection. Yes I do things like this for fun :-) If I find anything else I'll reply to this post. But I am also looking forward to input from all of you. Yes, also from you, "Chodiac", if you dare!!!! ;-) Cheers <3 and be kind to each other! |
2024.04.28 23:56 kkjjkkjj1 Need recommendations
One of the things that gives me the greatest pleasure in life is saying yes, in a "have you seen [blank]" conversation. I'm on a mission to see all of the "oh my god how have you not seen [blank] everyone has seen [blank]" for instance despite being a (self proclaimed) Cinefile, I have never seen "Rocky horror picture show" and I need recommendations of the least popular movies that the general public has seen. I'm sorry if this doesn't make any sense.
My letterboxd is https://boxd.it/4kqyZ if you wanna see if I've seen a film and be extra helpful (if you disagree with my rating or challenge my opinion I will cry)
submitted by kkjjkkjj1 to Letterboxd [link] [comments]
My letterboxd is https://boxd.it/4kqyZ if you wanna see if I've seen a film and be extra helpful (if you disagree with my rating or challenge my opinion I will cry)
2024.04.28 23:55 FormalSoft1328 Hey I need help finding a good Laptop for school and gaming.
LAPTOP QUESTIONNAIRE
My budget is 700€ and the country of purchase is Germany.
Are you open to refurbs/used? Yes i am, If they are not damaged that bad.
How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?
Weight is not so important, but it should BE rather thin.
Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A
N/A
Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.
Video editing, gaming, school (homwork, Powerpoint etc.)
If you're gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?
FPS (CSGO, APEX Legends), Minecraft, Sea of Thieves, Red Dead Redemtion 2 (If possible at 30FPS), medium and high graphics with 30-100FPS.
Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
A good Keyboard and reliable build quality would be nice.
Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.
I am all open for your suggestion!
submitted by FormalSoft1328 to laptops [link] [comments]
My budget is 700€ and the country of purchase is Germany.
Are you open to refurbs/used? Yes i am, If they are not damaged that bad.
How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?
- Performance 2. Build quality 3. Battery Life
Weight is not so important, but it should BE rather thin.
Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A
N/A
Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.
Video editing, gaming, school (homwork, Powerpoint etc.)
If you're gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?
FPS (CSGO, APEX Legends), Minecraft, Sea of Thieves, Red Dead Redemtion 2 (If possible at 30FPS), medium and high graphics with 30-100FPS.
Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
A good Keyboard and reliable build quality would be nice.
Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.
I am all open for your suggestion!
2024.04.28 23:52 NNeeccttaarriinnee [F4M] Romance between an alien felinoid and a human man. [Anthro, size difference, muscular female/andromorph, role reversal, story driven, sci-fi, multi-para]
My normal posts are 2-5 paragraphs. This is long because it's a starter.
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The sloping ground around the Kiaurk family mesa had been sculpted into shelves or terraces, and it was on one of those upper terraces that Kiaurk Nshurr now lounged beneath a pergola anchored to the striated stone face behind her. The mesa rose at her back: an enormous, looming, almost sheer outcrop that her family's dwellings had been carved into the face of. Wide, shallow steps cut into the artificial (but entirely convincing) sandstone wound their way up between landings and porticos leading inward, between tiny balconies shaded by bright solid-colored canopies, between rooms with flat walls and rounded corners that came jutting out to shadow the steps below. Rriigkhans rarely used glass as window barriers; smooth-edged holes had been cut through the rock in varying shapes and sizes. It could be difficult to tell which apertures were windows and which were entryways. A physical barrier that kept out the elements was obsolete in all but the crudest dwellings, though some of these larger holes were curtained with braided string or strips of cloth that served a purely decorative purpose.
From her high vantage point Nshurr could see the shelves stretching out below her as the base of the mesa leveled out to flattish terrain that was a wonderland of vegetation in muted rainbow colors: mustard yellows, clay reds, earthy browns and the occasional dash of sage or dusty blue. This scrubland lay like a blanket around everything below that was not part of the village between the mesas. Down there, adobe compounds never taller than two or three storeys seemed so squat compared to the mesas that Nshurr could see towering in the distance, many of those family mesas only a few hours walk from her own if she traveled by foot. The village sprawled, with tile parkways winding in serpentine fashion between the various buildings, courtyards, parks, and ponds. There were no property lines, no clear division of the land into neat little plots owned by the individuals who lived and worked in these places. It all seemed to be part of a whole, with a single unifying aesthetic. The village housed those rriigkhans of the lower castes, the kharratah and chelhautah, and the humans which were a caste all their own, haukagh-ar, except for a small number who lived with their masters in the caverns of the mesas or up on the plateau.
This planet, Sgarrl, terraformed over three hundred years ago, was home to more human servants than any other Ssaarian world – aside from Earth, of course, discovered eighty years ago. The fact that humans shared so much in common with rriigkhans made them the perfect species to incorporate into the rriigkhan caste structure as servants. They breathed the same mix of gases and required similar gravities, and their nimble little fingers were very useful for all sorts of work.
The rriigkhan language was not necessarily too complex for humans, but it was wholly unfamiliar – too many phonemes that did not fit comfortably in human mouths, from grunts to huffs, to rolling trills that might by voiced or not, sometimes rumbling out like a purr. To a human, Nshurr's name was a sigh and a trill, and yet she was accustomed to humans vocalizing her name in their heavy, slurring way: Na-Shuurr! Nasher! Sometimes simply: ɽ͡r! which she recognized more easily as her name, or at least part of it, and not some random sounds.
Still, despite the weird pidgin humans had made of her language and their English, she liked the little creatures. She had come to live with her Grandmother on Sgarrl only days ago, and had never encountered them before. The males only stood as tall as her collar. The females were shorter still, much like the males of her own species.
To human eyes Nshurr was felinoid, with a muscular swimmer's body and the broad muzzle of a big cat, with watchful, forward-facing predator's eyes that seemed unexpectedly expressive, because rriikghans had almost as many muscles around their eyes as humans did around their mouths to convey the nuances of emotion. Despite being larger than even many Earth men, she was considered sleek by rriigkhan standards. She made up for that with her broader crest.
The rriigkhan crest was something like the crest of Utahceratops – a keratinized plate growing up out of the skull, except divided into three lobes instead of two, with scalloped edges along the outer rim. Unlike depictions of Utahceratops, the rriigkhan crest was not covered by skin. At least, not on the top. Thick ropy veins squiggled under velvet fur on the underside, closer to the neck. (A thick, arching neck muscular enough to support the weight of that crest meant that Rriigkhans walked with a stoop that made them seem hunchbacked, to humans.) The surface of the plate on top was often rough, even bumpy or corrugated like deer antlers in some areas, smooth in others. Every female crest had four tines jutting from the front – a pair several inches above the eyes, and another pair further up. Directly above the lowest set of tines were twin holes, the howrf channels, just big enough for a human to insert a finger. These holes were very much like nostrils – much deeper, but damp inside, and lined with short, fine hairs to protect the sensitive mucous membrane from debris. The organs housed within these channels were the heart of rriigkhan culture, the foundation of all relationships, of sex.
Male rriigkhans, of course, had only their neotonous crests: diminutive, mostly smooth with rounded edges, without tines or howrf channels. Cute.
Nshurr's crest was wider than average, her upper tines spaced further apart, and combined with a compact face this made her look top-heavy. (A human might say that she was more snow leopard than lion.) Most female crests did not interfere with the movement of the ears – highly mobile, highly expressive paddle shaped things – but the edges of Nshurr's crest did jut out enough to almost shield them.
That her crest was weighty, that it was inconvenient, that she was often aware of it – this was Nshurr's pride. Her long tail curled in pleasure when she caught males looking at it. Humans seemed to be intimidated by it sometimes, as if she might decide to gore them with her “horns.” She considered herself a confident person; not a braggart, but self-assured, and to carry her jhekaah so visibly pleased her to no end.
Her fur was an almost peachy off-white, but a mask of pale peach shaded each seafoam green eye. The mask blended into the white further up her forehead until fur gave way to bone-tan crest, and was split between her eyes by the white of her nose. Oblong spots in that same peachy color, each blending from dark to light, streaked down her sides.
These weren't the natural colors of her distant ancestors. It was unheard of to see a rriigkhan who was not gene-modified in some way, even if those modded genes had been part of rriigkhan life for so long that no one thought of them as mods any longer. She also thought nothing of the subtitles her augmented reality implant displayed whenever a human spoke, AI translated to help her decipher the pidgin. AR was simply a part of her, had been since she was a kit.
Reclining as she was on a padded lounger in front of an iron brazier, full of cold ashes from last night's fire, Nshurr was dressed in a pale coral shift only a few shades darker than the peach of her fur. Medallions trailing fringes of cloth had been sewn onto the front bottom half of the knee-length garment. A row of those ornate medallions defined a plunging neckline that bared much of her chest, muscular and broad, possibly even masculine to a human. Her breasts were lower on her body and similar in appearance to a mare's udders: long nipples on a pudge of fat nestled close together on the pelvis, just above the place where her thighs joined her body. They were only small lumps beneath the shift when Nshurr stretched out her legs so that the thin fabric fell across them. It was the roundness of her hips and buttocks that marked her female to the human eye. (As if her crest didn't make that obvious!)
She was listening to the sound of two younger female cousins wrestling on a nearby terrace, and although from her vantage point Nshurr could not see them, she could imagine the scene from what she heard: Fherou and Lahk growling while they grappled with their arms, the crack of crest hitting crest and then the scrape of tine sliding against tine. Each was fighting to control the other's head, each trying to bite the other. It wasn't easy when each had a shaggy ruff to protect her neck, and any attempt to bite the other's face would be thwarted by an interposing crest. Rriigkhan hands were less dexterous than human hands, more pawlike with stubby fingers, but capable of delivering hard blows, and once or twice Nshurr heard a cousin snarl in response to a strike against her body.
The competitive pheromones her cousins exuded from their unextended howrfs, quite unconsciously, were beginning to make Nshurr's own heart beat faster. The end of her long tail, where it hung down from the reclining chair, lashed in agitation. She was beginning to imagine sinking her teeth into someone's skin herself, and if her cousins had not been so much younger and smaller than herself she might have gone down to their terrace to show them a thing or two. It was putting her off the human flute music she'd been listening to, fed directly into her own brain through her implant for her private enjoyment. (Certain aspects of human culture were very popular here on Sgarrl; she'd been curious about it.)
She did not feel like going inside to escape the pheromones; Nshurr craved the warmth of the sun on her fur, not the cool stone and artificial light of those warrens. Most of her male cousins had gone into the village for boating today. Well, perhaps she would go down and join them after all.
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OOC Information:
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For this prompt I imagine you'd play a human servant, probably a new arrival to Sgarrl but maybe someone who was born there. Even though I've set up a situation where my character would have a lot of power and yours very little, I want to clarify that I'm not interested in abusing your character I am looking for a slow burn interspecies romance that develops naturally. This story may deal with power imbalances and even speciesism, but I'd like to explore those topics realistically.
I want to explore all aspects of loving relationship... Flirting, cuddling, kissing, lots of romantic scenes and character growth. My “type” that I'm most attracted to are men with average bodies in the 40-60 age range, with realistic personality flaws. I am more than willing to tailor my character's personality and physical attributes to suit your tastes, within reason. I appreciate partners willing to do the same.
I prefer to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths vary according to need. If I'm introducing a new character or setting a scene, my post might go up to 1,000 words.
Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine. Click here to PM me!
submitted by NNeeccttaarriinnee to AdvLiterateRP [link] [comments]
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The sloping ground around the Kiaurk family mesa had been sculpted into shelves or terraces, and it was on one of those upper terraces that Kiaurk Nshurr now lounged beneath a pergola anchored to the striated stone face behind her. The mesa rose at her back: an enormous, looming, almost sheer outcrop that her family's dwellings had been carved into the face of. Wide, shallow steps cut into the artificial (but entirely convincing) sandstone wound their way up between landings and porticos leading inward, between tiny balconies shaded by bright solid-colored canopies, between rooms with flat walls and rounded corners that came jutting out to shadow the steps below. Rriigkhans rarely used glass as window barriers; smooth-edged holes had been cut through the rock in varying shapes and sizes. It could be difficult to tell which apertures were windows and which were entryways. A physical barrier that kept out the elements was obsolete in all but the crudest dwellings, though some of these larger holes were curtained with braided string or strips of cloth that served a purely decorative purpose.
From her high vantage point Nshurr could see the shelves stretching out below her as the base of the mesa leveled out to flattish terrain that was a wonderland of vegetation in muted rainbow colors: mustard yellows, clay reds, earthy browns and the occasional dash of sage or dusty blue. This scrubland lay like a blanket around everything below that was not part of the village between the mesas. Down there, adobe compounds never taller than two or three storeys seemed so squat compared to the mesas that Nshurr could see towering in the distance, many of those family mesas only a few hours walk from her own if she traveled by foot. The village sprawled, with tile parkways winding in serpentine fashion between the various buildings, courtyards, parks, and ponds. There were no property lines, no clear division of the land into neat little plots owned by the individuals who lived and worked in these places. It all seemed to be part of a whole, with a single unifying aesthetic. The village housed those rriigkhans of the lower castes, the kharratah and chelhautah, and the humans which were a caste all their own, haukagh-ar, except for a small number who lived with their masters in the caverns of the mesas or up on the plateau.
This planet, Sgarrl, terraformed over three hundred years ago, was home to more human servants than any other Ssaarian world – aside from Earth, of course, discovered eighty years ago. The fact that humans shared so much in common with rriigkhans made them the perfect species to incorporate into the rriigkhan caste structure as servants. They breathed the same mix of gases and required similar gravities, and their nimble little fingers were very useful for all sorts of work.
The rriigkhan language was not necessarily too complex for humans, but it was wholly unfamiliar – too many phonemes that did not fit comfortably in human mouths, from grunts to huffs, to rolling trills that might by voiced or not, sometimes rumbling out like a purr. To a human, Nshurr's name was a sigh and a trill, and yet she was accustomed to humans vocalizing her name in their heavy, slurring way: Na-Shuurr! Nasher! Sometimes simply: ɽ͡r! which she recognized more easily as her name, or at least part of it, and not some random sounds.
Still, despite the weird pidgin humans had made of her language and their English, she liked the little creatures. She had come to live with her Grandmother on Sgarrl only days ago, and had never encountered them before. The males only stood as tall as her collar. The females were shorter still, much like the males of her own species.
To human eyes Nshurr was felinoid, with a muscular swimmer's body and the broad muzzle of a big cat, with watchful, forward-facing predator's eyes that seemed unexpectedly expressive, because rriikghans had almost as many muscles around their eyes as humans did around their mouths to convey the nuances of emotion. Despite being larger than even many Earth men, she was considered sleek by rriigkhan standards. She made up for that with her broader crest.
The rriigkhan crest was something like the crest of Utahceratops – a keratinized plate growing up out of the skull, except divided into three lobes instead of two, with scalloped edges along the outer rim. Unlike depictions of Utahceratops, the rriigkhan crest was not covered by skin. At least, not on the top. Thick ropy veins squiggled under velvet fur on the underside, closer to the neck. (A thick, arching neck muscular enough to support the weight of that crest meant that Rriigkhans walked with a stoop that made them seem hunchbacked, to humans.) The surface of the plate on top was often rough, even bumpy or corrugated like deer antlers in some areas, smooth in others. Every female crest had four tines jutting from the front – a pair several inches above the eyes, and another pair further up. Directly above the lowest set of tines were twin holes, the howrf channels, just big enough for a human to insert a finger. These holes were very much like nostrils – much deeper, but damp inside, and lined with short, fine hairs to protect the sensitive mucous membrane from debris. The organs housed within these channels were the heart of rriigkhan culture, the foundation of all relationships, of sex.
Male rriigkhans, of course, had only their neotonous crests: diminutive, mostly smooth with rounded edges, without tines or howrf channels. Cute.
Nshurr's crest was wider than average, her upper tines spaced further apart, and combined with a compact face this made her look top-heavy. (A human might say that she was more snow leopard than lion.) Most female crests did not interfere with the movement of the ears – highly mobile, highly expressive paddle shaped things – but the edges of Nshurr's crest did jut out enough to almost shield them.
That her crest was weighty, that it was inconvenient, that she was often aware of it – this was Nshurr's pride. Her long tail curled in pleasure when she caught males looking at it. Humans seemed to be intimidated by it sometimes, as if she might decide to gore them with her “horns.” She considered herself a confident person; not a braggart, but self-assured, and to carry her jhekaah so visibly pleased her to no end.
Her fur was an almost peachy off-white, but a mask of pale peach shaded each seafoam green eye. The mask blended into the white further up her forehead until fur gave way to bone-tan crest, and was split between her eyes by the white of her nose. Oblong spots in that same peachy color, each blending from dark to light, streaked down her sides.
These weren't the natural colors of her distant ancestors. It was unheard of to see a rriigkhan who was not gene-modified in some way, even if those modded genes had been part of rriigkhan life for so long that no one thought of them as mods any longer. She also thought nothing of the subtitles her augmented reality implant displayed whenever a human spoke, AI translated to help her decipher the pidgin. AR was simply a part of her, had been since she was a kit.
Reclining as she was on a padded lounger in front of an iron brazier, full of cold ashes from last night's fire, Nshurr was dressed in a pale coral shift only a few shades darker than the peach of her fur. Medallions trailing fringes of cloth had been sewn onto the front bottom half of the knee-length garment. A row of those ornate medallions defined a plunging neckline that bared much of her chest, muscular and broad, possibly even masculine to a human. Her breasts were lower on her body and similar in appearance to a mare's udders: long nipples on a pudge of fat nestled close together on the pelvis, just above the place where her thighs joined her body. They were only small lumps beneath the shift when Nshurr stretched out her legs so that the thin fabric fell across them. It was the roundness of her hips and buttocks that marked her female to the human eye. (As if her crest didn't make that obvious!)
She was listening to the sound of two younger female cousins wrestling on a nearby terrace, and although from her vantage point Nshurr could not see them, she could imagine the scene from what she heard: Fherou and Lahk growling while they grappled with their arms, the crack of crest hitting crest and then the scrape of tine sliding against tine. Each was fighting to control the other's head, each trying to bite the other. It wasn't easy when each had a shaggy ruff to protect her neck, and any attempt to bite the other's face would be thwarted by an interposing crest. Rriigkhan hands were less dexterous than human hands, more pawlike with stubby fingers, but capable of delivering hard blows, and once or twice Nshurr heard a cousin snarl in response to a strike against her body.
The competitive pheromones her cousins exuded from their unextended howrfs, quite unconsciously, were beginning to make Nshurr's own heart beat faster. The end of her long tail, where it hung down from the reclining chair, lashed in agitation. She was beginning to imagine sinking her teeth into someone's skin herself, and if her cousins had not been so much younger and smaller than herself she might have gone down to their terrace to show them a thing or two. It was putting her off the human flute music she'd been listening to, fed directly into her own brain through her implant for her private enjoyment. (Certain aspects of human culture were very popular here on Sgarrl; she'd been curious about it.)
She did not feel like going inside to escape the pheromones; Nshurr craved the warmth of the sun on her fur, not the cool stone and artificial light of those warrens. Most of her male cousins had gone into the village for boating today. Well, perhaps she would go down and join them after all.
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OOC Information:
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For this prompt I imagine you'd play a human servant, probably a new arrival to Sgarrl but maybe someone who was born there. Even though I've set up a situation where my character would have a lot of power and yours very little, I want to clarify that I'm not interested in abusing your character I am looking for a slow burn interspecies romance that develops naturally. This story may deal with power imbalances and even speciesism, but I'd like to explore those topics realistically.
I want to explore all aspects of loving relationship... Flirting, cuddling, kissing, lots of romantic scenes and character growth. My “type” that I'm most attracted to are men with average bodies in the 40-60 age range, with realistic personality flaws. I am more than willing to tailor my character's personality and physical attributes to suit your tastes, within reason. I appreciate partners willing to do the same.
I prefer to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths vary according to need. If I'm introducing a new character or setting a scene, my post might go up to 1,000 words.
Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine. Click here to PM me!
2024.04.28 23:52 Recent-Cheesecake628 Family problems/Am I in the wrong???
So I (17f) have been having family problems since as long as I can remember I'll try to sum up my background as to get to my new problem it's all just my sister and mom
My mother: Abused me (mentally sometimes physically until the age of 14) When we argue she changes the fight basically by making her look like the bad mother for example the last fight we had she said "oh so youre telling me that I'm a useless mother and that I couldnt protect you" She's a single mother that worries a shit load about money and whenever me and my siblings ask for something simple she says we have no money but is constantly looking online for dress,shoes, jewelry, etc anything that she would want Constantly drinks and smokes while me and my little siblings are around (she's a terrible driver and has crashed the car with us in it several times) She told us one time when she was high that she would kill us all and then herself so that we would be together in heaven (thankfully this was 5 years ago and she has since dropped that mindset) When my mom found out I was cutting she pulled me into her room asked me why I was doing it and then proceeded to say "if you wanted pain you should of told me and I would have beaten your ass till it bleed" While in a fight I told her that I was being sexually assaulted by my cousins starting at the age of 9 through 15 and she spun the conversation around basically asking what I did to deserve that and if I was saying that she was a bad mother for letting that happen When I was little 5-11 my mom would pull me into the shower after she had yelled and hit me and she would turn on the shower to cold ass water and once opened the window we had in the bathroom during December, I caught a bad cold and had to stay home for about 3 day because I couldn't stop throwing up Honestly that's all I remember right now mostly because I blocked the rest of it out
My sister: Diagnosed with bipolar Yells at everyone (yes including my mom) until she gets her way Hits me and my siblings if she feels like we are giving her attitude or are 'fighting' with her Once she called me a usless bitch and caused me to have a panic attack and mental breakdown in the bathroom Overall she's okay at times but most time out of the day she has spent it yelling at either me or my siblings and has caused me to break down crying although I never let her see it
Now for the problem/question that I have
I am a part of the class of 2024 and I have no money saved up, I only know the basics of driving and am planning to get a summer job to be able to save up enough money in order to be able to move out and go to college
I do not want to stay in my mother's home with her or my sister for another year, I want to leave start my own life and be able to explore myself, I am terrified of relationships and cannot handle being in pictures with them (idk why)
What do I do?? How do I save up enough money in order to move out and gain independence, I just want to know any advice on how I can get out sooner and basically be free
submitted by Recent-Cheesecake628 to amiwrong [link] [comments]
My mother: Abused me (mentally sometimes physically until the age of 14) When we argue she changes the fight basically by making her look like the bad mother for example the last fight we had she said "oh so youre telling me that I'm a useless mother and that I couldnt protect you" She's a single mother that worries a shit load about money and whenever me and my siblings ask for something simple she says we have no money but is constantly looking online for dress,shoes, jewelry, etc anything that she would want Constantly drinks and smokes while me and my little siblings are around (she's a terrible driver and has crashed the car with us in it several times) She told us one time when she was high that she would kill us all and then herself so that we would be together in heaven (thankfully this was 5 years ago and she has since dropped that mindset) When my mom found out I was cutting she pulled me into her room asked me why I was doing it and then proceeded to say "if you wanted pain you should of told me and I would have beaten your ass till it bleed" While in a fight I told her that I was being sexually assaulted by my cousins starting at the age of 9 through 15 and she spun the conversation around basically asking what I did to deserve that and if I was saying that she was a bad mother for letting that happen When I was little 5-11 my mom would pull me into the shower after she had yelled and hit me and she would turn on the shower to cold ass water and once opened the window we had in the bathroom during December, I caught a bad cold and had to stay home for about 3 day because I couldn't stop throwing up Honestly that's all I remember right now mostly because I blocked the rest of it out
My sister: Diagnosed with bipolar Yells at everyone (yes including my mom) until she gets her way Hits me and my siblings if she feels like we are giving her attitude or are 'fighting' with her Once she called me a usless bitch and caused me to have a panic attack and mental breakdown in the bathroom Overall she's okay at times but most time out of the day she has spent it yelling at either me or my siblings and has caused me to break down crying although I never let her see it
Now for the problem/question that I have
I am a part of the class of 2024 and I have no money saved up, I only know the basics of driving and am planning to get a summer job to be able to save up enough money in order to be able to move out and go to college
I do not want to stay in my mother's home with her or my sister for another year, I want to leave start my own life and be able to explore myself, I am terrified of relationships and cannot handle being in pictures with them (idk why)
What do I do?? How do I save up enough money in order to move out and gain independence, I just want to know any advice on how I can get out sooner and basically be free
2024.04.28 23:51 NefariousnessBest162 Level 6! I've Finally Listened to 1000 Hours of Spanish!
I hit 1000 hours on 4/25.
Other posts: 600 Hours 300 Hours
It feels amazing to see four digits. Back when I had hit 600, I was a little tired at first and thought, no rush, I’ll keep steady with my two-hour goal and get there by summer. But as I got closer, I was doing more and more each day. After hitting about 900 hours and switching to advanced videos, the hours added up quickly.
Looking back at my four goals from my level 5 update, 1-2 are complete and 3 is set up. 4 is a fall goal that I seem to be on track for. Goal one was 700 by January, which I accomplished. Goal two was 1000 by June or a stretch goal of April and I hit the stretch goal! Goal three is to speak a lot during the summer vacation. I have about one speaking class per week set up right now, starting today, and am working on setting up a 7-10 day trip to LATAM to do some volunteer work so I can practice using Spanish vs. just taking a vacation when it can be easier to not use Spanish as much.
During the phase of 600-800 hours I spent my time mostly in intermediate DS and binge listened to How to Spanish podcast (I tend to take the approach of input being easier, so harder things were accessible, but prefer to stay lower until it gets boring). I also watched the first season on La Casa De Flores on Netflix. It was a little difficult, but I could follow the story. There were just some little things here and there I’m sure I missed. I watched without subs of any kind, not even Spanish, and overall it was fine. I haven't tried the second season and don’t know if I will because while it was interesting, it isn’t necessarily something I think I’d like. I’d prefer more story and less everyone sleeping with everyone else. So I may look for some other thing to watch at some point, but am busy for about one more month until the school year ends (I’m a teacher, not a student, I’m old…ok, not really, just 31).
At some point after 800 hours and as I approached 900 hours I finished previous podcasts and started No Hay Tos. I think their podcast is a little harder than How to Spanish as they speak a bit faster and more casually, but I enjoyed it. I did skip over all the special episodes though as I found they just used a lot of English to explain these words and phrases, so I’ve been sticking to regular episodes. I did tire of it though and have listened to a few over the past 100 hours, but am not binging it anymore. I also listened to half of the episodes of El Oso Latino. I think the speaker is very fun, but there is so much music in there and the chronicas del gringo section is so cringy, I couldn’t finish it. The second speaker learned Spanish and overall he sounds fine, but the way he pronounces the “r” sounds like he is choking or something and I can’t take the sound. It felt like it wasn’t the best use of the little time I had each day for input. But if one wants Peruvian input, it’s only 26 episodes and not active anymore, so could be interesting. I ended up switching to a native podcast Qué Cacao, which is great as she speaks very clearly and her voice is very calming. During the last 50 hours or so, I’ve use my commute to listen to Se Habla Español, which I had tried last year when I had like 300 hours and it was way too difficult. Now it is easy and it’s fun to listen to clips from famous people and I think I may be learning a lot of names of actors, writers, etc. It is Spain content. I don’t strictly adhere to a certain accent, even though I’d prefer Mexican because most of the people I work with that I want to interact in Spanish with come from Mexico. I just follow what’s interesting and accessible.
With Dreaming Spanish, as I was getting closer to 900 I found intermediate had started to become boring for me. There weren’t too many new topics that stood out and made me want to watch and I felt like I wasted time scrolling. So I just looked up the rest of Pablo’s stories, which had always been hard for me, and I watched the rest. I was about 50/50 with getting the ending or not. I would always understand the main story, but sometimes he would say the ending and I’d think “Wait, what?” Other times I’d be able to see it coming. Then I switched to advanced and it was a game changer! My interest grew and I’ve spent basically all of the time minus driving on DS instead of podcasts or other things because there are SO MANY more interesting videos in advanced. There are some that are a little hard to understand, so I did sort by easy for a bit, but now it seems like most are fine. Occasionally if one is hard, I just stop and know I’ll come back to it later. The nice thing about advanced as well is that I have been able to use many like a podcast (I do have the premium podcast feed) so I can use those with my commute as well since the majority don’t rely on having images.
From 900 to now, these are some native youtube channels I’ve come across, mostly just popped up in recommended, that I’ve been enjoying and are comfortable for me: Cocinando Corea, Mila, Anita Mateu, News channels like BBC News Mundo and France 24 en Español, Nekijitablog
I have multiple others saved, but haven’t had the time to watch any videos to know the level.
As I moved from 600 to 1000 I think I went through times, like most intermediate learners, where I felt like I was comfortable listening and understood a lot, then times where it felt like I had so much more to learn and it was difficult. But I would say the most noticeable difference in feeling much more comfortable was somewhere around 900. That’s when it felt like I actually had a chance to speak and understand well by 1000. So if you’re in the 800s feeling doubtful, wait for the 900s and it may feel better. Of course, every person has unique circumstances that may put them a little ahead or behind, so patience in general because it will come in time. It’s wild to me to think that a little over a year ago I struggled with super beginner videos, but now I understand when native speakers talk to me and I can watch native content and follow along compared to the failures I felt over a decade ago with 3 years of being one of the “best” students in high school Spanish classes but not being able to speak or understand when I went to a trip in Mexico and later on with Korean, being so slow and choppy when trying to speak, both done with traditional grammar study to learn instead of acquire.
Reading since 950
At about 950 hours I decided I would start reading. I started by switching my phone over to Spanish. This has been fine. I think there was only once where I felt uncertain and moved to my desktop, but 99% of the time it’s fine. Using the phone in Spanish even helped with a word that has been standing out to me but haven’t quite figured the meaning. Then I saw it on my phone and thought, That’s the word! So I knew in at least one context of the meaning. I have a couple books, but haven’t really been able to get to them as much as I would have liked because I’ve just been hyper focused on the input to hit 1000. But I have read two of the stories from Olly Richards Short Stories in Spanish (I had bought it over a year ago before DS). The first story was easy, the second a little harder, but I followed the story fine. I don’t know that I’d say it was the ideal 98% or higher known words as Beniko Mason’s research shows is ideal, but working with what I have to get started. I also found Hábitos Atómicos at my library. I’ve read and I own the book in English, so I thought why not. I was planning to finish the short stories book first then read it, but now someone else put it on hold, so I’ve read the intro and first chapter. I’ll have to return it to the library tomorrow, so I’ll try to read a few more pages, then may try to put it on hold myself to get again in a month or so. I was surprised that it wasn’t super difficult. Again, a fair amount of unknown words, but having read it before I think helped. Many libraries where I live do have Spanish sections in both adults and kids so I may see if there are some middle grade novels in Spanish to try and read and see how those go. It’s easy to find picture books, but would like to find something with a bit of length. That’s maybe the downside to the short stories book is that each story is just three chapters or about 10-15 pages max. With reading so far, I’ve noticed it’s like when I had around 300 hours and when I would try to listen to more than 2 hours a day, my brain was just tired. It’s like that with reading. I don’t have the stamina to keep reading for a long time, but I’m sure it will grow quickly as I read more. I wonder if it would be less noticeable if I find a middle grade novel to read where I can get into a story and follow characters for a longer time. Long term, I will track my number of words read, first goal being 1 million words, then hitting 3 million. After that point I wouldn’t bother to count my words. I only plan to track as I finish a book then record how many words it was roughly.
Speaking at 1000 hours
Yesterday I had my first conversation in Spanish. In the past year I’ve had some crosstalk experience, but not as much I would have liked. It’s just been difficult to schedule with my work and family life. Yesterday I was nervous, but in the days leading up to it, I had sentences and mini conversations in my head about what I could say and was surprised that I could pretty easily come up with sentences. When I actually spoke I don’t know that it was as fluid as it was in my head, but I was able to have a conversation for 45 minutes. It was with a tutor that I had not met before so we didn’t know anything about each other. I would say I failed to ask any questions. I think I was pretty nervous and mostly was just trying to explain my ideas. As a person that loves to talk a lot in English, it was difficult in that I couldn’t say exactly what I wanted to say or talk at the speed I usually do. There were certainly words that I couldn’t figure out what to use, but could talk my way around them for the most part. Sometimes I tried explaining and then paused to avoid trying to say something in English because that was a bad habit I had as a language learner in the past. So I am happy to say I only said an English word once. I don’t even remember what it was I couldn’t say. Realized I was trying to use a lot of different verbs and she said, just use “fui” you don’t need to use all those other verbs, using a form of “ir” is way easier. I did record the conversation, so sometime I’ll try to listen back and see how it seemed. The tutor said at the end that my pronunciation was very good and I didn’t have a gringo accent (yay!). I think she was being overly nice when she said she wouldn’t have been able to tell I was a native English speaker, because I noticed some words that sounded funny to my ear. She thought overall my speaking was pretty good and I only made some small mistakes here and there. Some of them I noticed right after as well, so I am curious to compare speaking the first time to after speaking for 10 hours. I feel like it will get better quickly as the nervousness of never speaking before wears off. Like at first, in my head there was a little anxiety about the “rs” but later when I was more comfortable the words spilled out more easily. What I will say is that my brain was focused on just saying what I wanted to say even if I had to find away around the word and NOT on thinking about the grammar and how to form a sentence like was always my struggle with Korean. Occasionally got stuck on a verb conjugation, so then I just said it in the infinitive if I didn’t really know so that I could keep talking.
I plan to track my speaking hours separately from my input so I have a little spreadsheet I’ve started to track the hours. Not sure how long I’d track and may not bother to record every conversation, but maybe more like classes, just to have a little data on changes I notice at 10 hours, 50 hours, 100 hours, etc. because I am interested in applying this method to other languages in the future and implement changes to language learning in schools in America, so I believe data will be helpful, even if it is anecdotal. It can be a jumping off point if I ever do get into a doctoral program and try to do some real research.
2024 Plans and Goals
If I look back to level 5, I would say with speaking, it sounds spot on with what I can do at level 5, which makes sense if I think about how level 6 is the largest span, with 500 hours from beginning to end so it makes sense that I can’t say right now that I am “conversationally fluent.” I think I would need more time with conversation before I could accurate reflect on this. With the one conversation I have had as of now, I would say what level 5 says fits me, so I look forward to at some point in level 6 hit this “conversationally fluent” ability where I can pretty much say what I need. I would say in terms of listening, however, I would be fine. I imagine I could be part of a conversation where I occasionally give some input, but am more of a listener in the situation. I have no trouble listening to speakers say something to me minus an odd word here or there. Funny, I just typed that and read the “what you are learning” section and is says “You may find the odd common word that you haven’t learned yet…” so I guess that’s true! I will certainly focus on the “what I need to do” section with lots of authentic media, listening, reading, and trying to make friends in Spanish. I’ve felt the roadmap has been pretty accurate for me and imagine as I work through level six I will feel the same.
submitted by NefariousnessBest162 to dreamingspanish [link] [comments]
Other posts: 600 Hours 300 Hours
It feels amazing to see four digits. Back when I had hit 600, I was a little tired at first and thought, no rush, I’ll keep steady with my two-hour goal and get there by summer. But as I got closer, I was doing more and more each day. After hitting about 900 hours and switching to advanced videos, the hours added up quickly.
Looking back at my four goals from my level 5 update, 1-2 are complete and 3 is set up. 4 is a fall goal that I seem to be on track for. Goal one was 700 by January, which I accomplished. Goal two was 1000 by June or a stretch goal of April and I hit the stretch goal! Goal three is to speak a lot during the summer vacation. I have about one speaking class per week set up right now, starting today, and am working on setting up a 7-10 day trip to LATAM to do some volunteer work so I can practice using Spanish vs. just taking a vacation when it can be easier to not use Spanish as much.
During the phase of 600-800 hours I spent my time mostly in intermediate DS and binge listened to How to Spanish podcast (I tend to take the approach of input being easier, so harder things were accessible, but prefer to stay lower until it gets boring). I also watched the first season on La Casa De Flores on Netflix. It was a little difficult, but I could follow the story. There were just some little things here and there I’m sure I missed. I watched without subs of any kind, not even Spanish, and overall it was fine. I haven't tried the second season and don’t know if I will because while it was interesting, it isn’t necessarily something I think I’d like. I’d prefer more story and less everyone sleeping with everyone else. So I may look for some other thing to watch at some point, but am busy for about one more month until the school year ends (I’m a teacher, not a student, I’m old…ok, not really, just 31).
At some point after 800 hours and as I approached 900 hours I finished previous podcasts and started No Hay Tos. I think their podcast is a little harder than How to Spanish as they speak a bit faster and more casually, but I enjoyed it. I did skip over all the special episodes though as I found they just used a lot of English to explain these words and phrases, so I’ve been sticking to regular episodes. I did tire of it though and have listened to a few over the past 100 hours, but am not binging it anymore. I also listened to half of the episodes of El Oso Latino. I think the speaker is very fun, but there is so much music in there and the chronicas del gringo section is so cringy, I couldn’t finish it. The second speaker learned Spanish and overall he sounds fine, but the way he pronounces the “r” sounds like he is choking or something and I can’t take the sound. It felt like it wasn’t the best use of the little time I had each day for input. But if one wants Peruvian input, it’s only 26 episodes and not active anymore, so could be interesting. I ended up switching to a native podcast Qué Cacao, which is great as she speaks very clearly and her voice is very calming. During the last 50 hours or so, I’ve use my commute to listen to Se Habla Español, which I had tried last year when I had like 300 hours and it was way too difficult. Now it is easy and it’s fun to listen to clips from famous people and I think I may be learning a lot of names of actors, writers, etc. It is Spain content. I don’t strictly adhere to a certain accent, even though I’d prefer Mexican because most of the people I work with that I want to interact in Spanish with come from Mexico. I just follow what’s interesting and accessible.
With Dreaming Spanish, as I was getting closer to 900 I found intermediate had started to become boring for me. There weren’t too many new topics that stood out and made me want to watch and I felt like I wasted time scrolling. So I just looked up the rest of Pablo’s stories, which had always been hard for me, and I watched the rest. I was about 50/50 with getting the ending or not. I would always understand the main story, but sometimes he would say the ending and I’d think “Wait, what?” Other times I’d be able to see it coming. Then I switched to advanced and it was a game changer! My interest grew and I’ve spent basically all of the time minus driving on DS instead of podcasts or other things because there are SO MANY more interesting videos in advanced. There are some that are a little hard to understand, so I did sort by easy for a bit, but now it seems like most are fine. Occasionally if one is hard, I just stop and know I’ll come back to it later. The nice thing about advanced as well is that I have been able to use many like a podcast (I do have the premium podcast feed) so I can use those with my commute as well since the majority don’t rely on having images.
From 900 to now, these are some native youtube channels I’ve come across, mostly just popped up in recommended, that I’ve been enjoying and are comfortable for me: Cocinando Corea, Mila, Anita Mateu, News channels like BBC News Mundo and France 24 en Español, Nekijitablog
I have multiple others saved, but haven’t had the time to watch any videos to know the level.
As I moved from 600 to 1000 I think I went through times, like most intermediate learners, where I felt like I was comfortable listening and understood a lot, then times where it felt like I had so much more to learn and it was difficult. But I would say the most noticeable difference in feeling much more comfortable was somewhere around 900. That’s when it felt like I actually had a chance to speak and understand well by 1000. So if you’re in the 800s feeling doubtful, wait for the 900s and it may feel better. Of course, every person has unique circumstances that may put them a little ahead or behind, so patience in general because it will come in time. It’s wild to me to think that a little over a year ago I struggled with super beginner videos, but now I understand when native speakers talk to me and I can watch native content and follow along compared to the failures I felt over a decade ago with 3 years of being one of the “best” students in high school Spanish classes but not being able to speak or understand when I went to a trip in Mexico and later on with Korean, being so slow and choppy when trying to speak, both done with traditional grammar study to learn instead of acquire.
Reading since 950
At about 950 hours I decided I would start reading. I started by switching my phone over to Spanish. This has been fine. I think there was only once where I felt uncertain and moved to my desktop, but 99% of the time it’s fine. Using the phone in Spanish even helped with a word that has been standing out to me but haven’t quite figured the meaning. Then I saw it on my phone and thought, That’s the word! So I knew in at least one context of the meaning. I have a couple books, but haven’t really been able to get to them as much as I would have liked because I’ve just been hyper focused on the input to hit 1000. But I have read two of the stories from Olly Richards Short Stories in Spanish (I had bought it over a year ago before DS). The first story was easy, the second a little harder, but I followed the story fine. I don’t know that I’d say it was the ideal 98% or higher known words as Beniko Mason’s research shows is ideal, but working with what I have to get started. I also found Hábitos Atómicos at my library. I’ve read and I own the book in English, so I thought why not. I was planning to finish the short stories book first then read it, but now someone else put it on hold, so I’ve read the intro and first chapter. I’ll have to return it to the library tomorrow, so I’ll try to read a few more pages, then may try to put it on hold myself to get again in a month or so. I was surprised that it wasn’t super difficult. Again, a fair amount of unknown words, but having read it before I think helped. Many libraries where I live do have Spanish sections in both adults and kids so I may see if there are some middle grade novels in Spanish to try and read and see how those go. It’s easy to find picture books, but would like to find something with a bit of length. That’s maybe the downside to the short stories book is that each story is just three chapters or about 10-15 pages max. With reading so far, I’ve noticed it’s like when I had around 300 hours and when I would try to listen to more than 2 hours a day, my brain was just tired. It’s like that with reading. I don’t have the stamina to keep reading for a long time, but I’m sure it will grow quickly as I read more. I wonder if it would be less noticeable if I find a middle grade novel to read where I can get into a story and follow characters for a longer time. Long term, I will track my number of words read, first goal being 1 million words, then hitting 3 million. After that point I wouldn’t bother to count my words. I only plan to track as I finish a book then record how many words it was roughly.
Speaking at 1000 hours
Yesterday I had my first conversation in Spanish. In the past year I’ve had some crosstalk experience, but not as much I would have liked. It’s just been difficult to schedule with my work and family life. Yesterday I was nervous, but in the days leading up to it, I had sentences and mini conversations in my head about what I could say and was surprised that I could pretty easily come up with sentences. When I actually spoke I don’t know that it was as fluid as it was in my head, but I was able to have a conversation for 45 minutes. It was with a tutor that I had not met before so we didn’t know anything about each other. I would say I failed to ask any questions. I think I was pretty nervous and mostly was just trying to explain my ideas. As a person that loves to talk a lot in English, it was difficult in that I couldn’t say exactly what I wanted to say or talk at the speed I usually do. There were certainly words that I couldn’t figure out what to use, but could talk my way around them for the most part. Sometimes I tried explaining and then paused to avoid trying to say something in English because that was a bad habit I had as a language learner in the past. So I am happy to say I only said an English word once. I don’t even remember what it was I couldn’t say. Realized I was trying to use a lot of different verbs and she said, just use “fui” you don’t need to use all those other verbs, using a form of “ir” is way easier. I did record the conversation, so sometime I’ll try to listen back and see how it seemed. The tutor said at the end that my pronunciation was very good and I didn’t have a gringo accent (yay!). I think she was being overly nice when she said she wouldn’t have been able to tell I was a native English speaker, because I noticed some words that sounded funny to my ear. She thought overall my speaking was pretty good and I only made some small mistakes here and there. Some of them I noticed right after as well, so I am curious to compare speaking the first time to after speaking for 10 hours. I feel like it will get better quickly as the nervousness of never speaking before wears off. Like at first, in my head there was a little anxiety about the “rs” but later when I was more comfortable the words spilled out more easily. What I will say is that my brain was focused on just saying what I wanted to say even if I had to find away around the word and NOT on thinking about the grammar and how to form a sentence like was always my struggle with Korean. Occasionally got stuck on a verb conjugation, so then I just said it in the infinitive if I didn’t really know so that I could keep talking.
I plan to track my speaking hours separately from my input so I have a little spreadsheet I’ve started to track the hours. Not sure how long I’d track and may not bother to record every conversation, but maybe more like classes, just to have a little data on changes I notice at 10 hours, 50 hours, 100 hours, etc. because I am interested in applying this method to other languages in the future and implement changes to language learning in schools in America, so I believe data will be helpful, even if it is anecdotal. It can be a jumping off point if I ever do get into a doctoral program and try to do some real research.
2024 Plans and Goals
- Have conversations in Spanish at least once a week through summer and convince my many bilingual friends to talk to me in Spanish instead of English.
- Travel to LATAM this summer (country to be determined soon).
- In fall, be comfortable conversing with new students to my ESL classes in Spanish when explaining how I run classes.
- 1250 hours by fall, 1500 by the end of the year. This is pretty conservative and I have currently dropped my daily goal from 120 min to 60 min, but expect to go over that most days. I just want to give myself room to take a break now and then and have time for reading and speaking.
If I look back to level 5, I would say with speaking, it sounds spot on with what I can do at level 5, which makes sense if I think about how level 6 is the largest span, with 500 hours from beginning to end so it makes sense that I can’t say right now that I am “conversationally fluent.” I think I would need more time with conversation before I could accurate reflect on this. With the one conversation I have had as of now, I would say what level 5 says fits me, so I look forward to at some point in level 6 hit this “conversationally fluent” ability where I can pretty much say what I need. I would say in terms of listening, however, I would be fine. I imagine I could be part of a conversation where I occasionally give some input, but am more of a listener in the situation. I have no trouble listening to speakers say something to me minus an odd word here or there. Funny, I just typed that and read the “what you are learning” section and is says “You may find the odd common word that you haven’t learned yet…” so I guess that’s true! I will certainly focus on the “what I need to do” section with lots of authentic media, listening, reading, and trying to make friends in Spanish. I’ve felt the roadmap has been pretty accurate for me and imagine as I work through level six I will feel the same.
2024.04.28 23:50 Historical_Aside_946 I'm Super Overwhelmed By My Backlog. Too Many Great Games.
So I'm in the mood to experience some very good games because.... I'm a big fan of masterpieces and I'm sure all of you guys's are as well. There's just something about a game that really stands out in the medium.
Two examples I will give are the Witcher 3 and RDR2, I'll never be able to decide between these two but these are the best games I've ever played. I've played some other great games too. I really enjoyed Skyrim, MHW/Iceborne, Ghost of Tsushima, Days Gone, Last of Us, and Fallout 4, but those 2 particularly hit me. I've yet to find a single game to do the same.
I've accumalated quite the backlog over the years and I've finally got time to dive in as I've just finished Bloodborne (my first FromSoft game)--and it has broken my top 5!. Absolutely incredible and I personally give the game a 10/10.
This time around, I'm looking to maybe the keep the variety going so I'm thinking of rotating around 2-3 games over a given time period, which will be until I finish them. Moreover, this gives me the freedom to work around my mood. The backlog is quite big and I tend to take a long time playing games, so wiping out 2-3 instead of just 1 would help a lot!
Anyway, here's the backlog.
This may just be me, but knowing that I have all these incredible games kinda messes me up, haha. Like I'll be playing a game and then while I'm playing, I'll be thinking about another game I could be playing because I know it will be so good! But I need to stick to a couple of games and that's it.
Some may say that this list is all over the place and ya it probably is, haha. However, my goal is to get some insight on each and every one of these titles. From there, I'll ultimately be able to make a decison. Because there's so much variety, I'm probably going to get a lot of different opinions and advice, but I like learning from many different perspectives. Who knows if I'll get to all of these, but it's just the general knowledge of them that is good in my opinion. So ya, I do think there's a point, haha.
Anyway, that's it for me. I'd really appreciate the game reccomendations. It's hard for me to do research on each of these because of time constraints, and being an overthinker just makes me spend more time trying to choose what to play. So when I say it's appreciated, it REALLY is, haha.
submitted by Historical_Aside_946 to ShouldIbuythisgame [link] [comments]
Two examples I will give are the Witcher 3 and RDR2, I'll never be able to decide between these two but these are the best games I've ever played. I've played some other great games too. I really enjoyed Skyrim, MHW/Iceborne, Ghost of Tsushima, Days Gone, Last of Us, and Fallout 4, but those 2 particularly hit me. I've yet to find a single game to do the same.
I've accumalated quite the backlog over the years and I've finally got time to dive in as I've just finished Bloodborne (my first FromSoft game)--and it has broken my top 5!. Absolutely incredible and I personally give the game a 10/10.
This time around, I'm looking to maybe the keep the variety going so I'm thinking of rotating around 2-3 games over a given time period, which will be until I finish them. Moreover, this gives me the freedom to work around my mood. The backlog is quite big and I tend to take a long time playing games, so wiping out 2-3 instead of just 1 would help a lot!
Anyway, here's the backlog.
- Elden Ring
- Final Fantasy VII
- Mass Effect Legendary Edition
- Outer Wilds
- Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice
- Shadow of the Colossus
- Journey
- What Remains of Edith Finch
- Horizon Zero Dawn
- Uncharted 1/2/3 (already played 4 and really enjoyed it!)
- Death Stranding
- Control
- Kingdom Hearts 1/2/3
- Final Fantasy XIV
- Dishonored
- Dark Souls 3
- Titanfall 2
- Batman: Arkham City
- Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain
- Resident Evil 4 Remake
- Yakuza 0
- Final Fantasy X
- The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (I have access to Majora's Mask and Ocarina of Time via Switch Online, perhaps those first? I've already played BOTW)
- Final Fantasy VI
- Super Mario Odyssey
- Animal Crossings: New Horizons
- Undertale
- Celeste
- Super Mario 3D World
- Metroid Prime Remastered
- Ori and the Blind Forest/Ori and the Will of the Wisps
- Portal 1+2
- Hollow Knight
- NieR: Automata
- Persona 5 Royal
- Disco Elysium
- Hades
- Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
- Inside
- Fallout New Vegas
- The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind/The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
- Baldurs Gate 1/Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn
- Planescape: Torment
- The Witness
- Half-Life 2
this list is not ranked by me or anything, it's just a random order of my backlog. I'm also not saying there for sure a 10/10. I obviosuly haven't played them, but from the research I've done, they are ranked very highly across a multiude of sites.So yes, quite the backlog, haha. Probably thousands of hours worth, but this is truly it though. I tend to buy games that are very critically acclaimed, and over the years, I've built the quite the collection over many platforms like the PS4, Switch, and PC. However, due to time constraints and just the sheer size of some of these titles, it takes me FOREVER to finish a game. I truly mean it, like finishing a game is quite rare for me. I played Bloodborne over the Christmas break, so I had lot's of time to dive in. But sometimes, there's just so little time :(. As an engineering student in university, the work load is pretty heavy. However, I don't intend on letting that stop me for experiencing some absolute bangers!
This may just be me, but knowing that I have all these incredible games kinda messes me up, haha. Like I'll be playing a game and then while I'm playing, I'll be thinking about another game I could be playing because I know it will be so good! But I need to stick to a couple of games and that's it.
Some may say that this list is all over the place and ya it probably is, haha. However, my goal is to get some insight on each and every one of these titles. From there, I'll ultimately be able to make a decison. Because there's so much variety, I'm probably going to get a lot of different opinions and advice, but I like learning from many different perspectives. Who knows if I'll get to all of these, but it's just the general knowledge of them that is good in my opinion. So ya, I do think there's a point, haha.
Anyway, that's it for me. I'd really appreciate the game reccomendations. It's hard for me to do research on each of these because of time constraints, and being an overthinker just makes me spend more time trying to choose what to play. So when I say it's appreciated, it REALLY is, haha.
2024.04.28 23:49 Clasheer The Trident of Neptune
- I suppose that is your true form. A flashy transformation like that must be crucial if you let your guard down. Not that I could attack you in water.
- Can you shut your mouth? You might’ve had the edge, with all of that red flame, but it is time for me to show off this rusty armor.
After having his whole body burning in the flames of war, he gained a momentary advantage every time he was attacked, and could retaliate, which would’ve resulted in deep wounds for the other side, had he not been wearing the armor.
However, despite being able to connect attacks wasn’t able to decrease the strength of Vukič, but they made him even stronger and faster. Not having any choice, Ainsworth launched himself up into the sky on a stream of water, and started a maelstrom, sucking his opponent in, making him unable to move. Trying to suffocate him failed this time as well, since the power of the flames burnt through the water.
The moment the flames successfully burnt a tunnel, it started eating up the water from the outside, evaporating the whirlpool. When Vukič was finally able to see the trident, he was met by a barrage of small droplets, sharp as a needle, piercing his skin, and draining the blood from him. With this technique, he didn’t have a chance to make his blood become flame, but was able to collect it with his sychte, thus making it larger, with even more teeth.
- What might a bigger weapon mean, when you are running out of blood. In a few minutes, you will be drained dry. It matters not, whether you are making armor or weapon out of it. An average human as about 5 liters of blood. Any normal man would die if they lose more than 2, but in your case, I guess I have to make you lose all 5 if I wish to defeat you. Judging by the size of your flames, you are already down about 4, so this last 1 should be easy.
- You sure talk big for a man who hasn’t made me reach my limit yet. You might think there is a chance to drain me dry, but this last bit is really what makes me unstoppable. The more I lose, the stronger I become, and if I get to the level, when there is little to no blood in my veins, I will show you what the drums of war really are capable of.
When he first pierced the armor, a strange phenomenon took place. The rust from it and the trident suddenly broke off, and revealed the shining metal beneath. Ainsworth suddenly became even faster and with each attack, a wave came along. This was the full power of Neptune, that not even a near full-power host could stand up to.
In no time he gained the upper hand, and the battle became one sided. Vukič continued to lose blood, but the stronger flames weren’t enough. When he nearly ran out of blood, they became flickering, and revealed his body, covered in scars.
Ainsworth stopped using the sea and jumped towards the defenseless target, which stood still, powerless, awaiting it. The trident pierced his heart, and after it was pulled out, he fell to the ground.
- You were a great opponent, the first to ever have me use this power. You should be proud of yourself in death, pirate.
- Not so fast – came a quiet, but terrifying sound.
- I told you that wasn’t the true strength of war, and now, beg for your life.
2024.04.28 23:49 Kassini2097 Question about Python + Pillow
Hello,
I've created (with AI) a script that auto resize pictures (logo for my job). They have to be 210*90 px
The script is working fine BUT doesn't resize square pictures.
Here is what I've done :
I think the problem is here. When I try with a square image, it resizes to 210*191 px
Tried this but doesn't work :
Something like [white][logo][white]
So the logo only will have a 90 height but its width would be less than 210 (to keep the ratio) and fill with white to get the 210px of width.
Would it be possible ?
Any help would be much appreciated
ty
submitted by Kassini2097 to learnpython [link] [comments]
I've created (with AI) a script that auto resize pictures (logo for my job). They have to be 210*90 px
The script is working fine BUT doesn't resize square pictures.
Here is what I've done :
# Set la taille max_width = 210 max_height = 90 # calculer la nouvelle taille tout en gardant le ratio width, height = img.size if width > height: if width > max_width: new_height = int((height / width) * max_width) new_size = (max_width, new_height) else: new_size = (width, height) else: if height > max_height: new_width = int((width / height) * max_height) new_size = (new_width, max_height) else: new_size = (width, height) # redimensionner l'image resized_img = img.resize(new_size, Image.LANCZOS)Here it calculates the new size and keep the ratio to look good.
I think the problem is here. When I try with a square image, it resizes to 210*191 px
Tried this but doesn't work :
# If the image is a square, add white space to make it a 210x90 image if width == height: new_img = Image.new("RGB", (max_width, max_height), (3000, 3000, 3000)) new_img.paste(resized_img, ((max_width - new_size[0]) // 2, (max_height - new_size[1]) // 2)) resized_img = new_img What I need with square images is to keep the height to 90, and add with white spaces the endpoints. Something like [white][logo][white]
So the logo only will have a 90 height but its width would be less than 210 (to keep the ratio) and fill with white to get the 210px of width.
Would it be possible ?
Any help would be much appreciated
ty
2024.04.28 23:48 Kmanuele11 Returning bra
I purchased a bra last week and wore it the next day (also removed tags) apparently having my second child has sucked the life out of my chest and I am no longer my precious size. I still have the receipt but have worn and washed the bra. I saw on the site that you can return at any time but this feels weird. Is this true or will I make a fool of myself trying to exchange for another size? Thank you!!!
submitted by Kmanuele11 to americaneagle [link] [comments]
2024.04.28 23:48 thegreendutch 1940 Play Ball Hugh "EE-YAH" Jennings
 | submitted by thegreendutch to baseballcards [link] [comments] |
2024.04.28 23:47 -C-7007 「Wish You Were Here」, postcards you always had
 | Name : Wish You Were Here submitted by -C-7007 to fanStands [link] [comments] Namesake: Song and album by Pink Floyd, known for being the "home album" for Shine on you Crazy Diamond and for its collector postcards. Localised name: Weren't You There? Stats:
Appearance: 「Wish You Were Here」has no body or physical manifestation of its own. The only signs of its existence are the initials "WYWH" printed in barely visible holographic ink on postal stamps. Ability: False memories shipping 「Wish You Were Here」is a phenomenon Stand that can inject false memories using postal stamps. Any official postal stamp, from any country counts as a valid stamp to trigger the ability. Custom stamps or damaged ones do not count. To use his Stand, the User must lick the selected stamp and stick it on a letter or a parcel. There is no limitation on how many affected stamps can be in circulation at any given time, but only one WYWH stamp can be applied on a single letteparcel. If the user tries to add another one, then the previously applied one will turn back into a normal stamp. Anything the User focuses on while licking and sticking the stamp will be saved inside it. This includes words, sounds, images, smells, tastes, but no haptic sensations (touch, pain) or raw emotions. Furthermore, the stamp cannot save direct orders. A stamp affected by WYWH can only record up to one minute of high mental activity. The intensity with which the user recalls or invent memories to store also affects their "reality level" in the recipient's mind. The Stand is used to send people fake memories. Once they open the letteparcel shipped with a WYWH stamp, the memories will be implanted inside their brain forever, unless the User is killed or the stamp sent to another person. In that second case, the false memories will be erased from the target's mind. If 「Wish You Were Here」is used on a letter or postcard, the recipient is also more susceptible to directly believe what is written in it for a minute after opening it. 「Wish You Were Here」cannot be used to erase memories. Sending a stamp containing something like "remember how you never breathed in your whole life?" will simply make the target believe they never breathed, not remove their ability to breathe. It cannot add anything else to the target's memories than the content it was shipped with: if the stamp contains "Hey, remember how good your Icelandic is?" but the target never spoke Icelandic, they will not instantly learn the language, but simply be absolutely sure they did (and start speaking nonsense). A memory implanted by 「Wish You Were Here」is indistinguishable from a genuine memory: no lie detection test would be able to flag them as fake. Unless it gets sent by its target to someone else, a WYWH stamp is single-use. If someone interacts with it without being the direct recipient of it after the letteparcel has been opened, nothing happens. If a letteparcel with an affected stamp is left in the wild without any specific recipient indicated on it, the memories will be implanted in the first person who opens it. If a recipient is clearly indicated, but someone else opens the mail, this other person will not get affected, but the designated recipient will if they read the letteopen the parcel themselves. About the User: Floyd Barrett is a 45 years-old postman who spent most of his life in misery, hated and harassed by his peers. The only thing he had to his name was his grandfather's stamps collection, a grandfather he barely got the time to know before he passed away. Feeling truly alone and desperate when that happened, he ended up selling the stamps collection, which contained some pretty rare finds, helping Floyd start anew. He was sure to have sold the whole set, but the night after, he found one specific stamp on his forehead, the one previously glued to a handwritten note by his grandfather: "my favourite. You gave it to me when we met. I wish you were here." As his life continued, Floyd fell back into trouble and misery, but the stamp never left him. However, he started to notice that people he sent letters to started to remember things they shouldn't be able to know. Thinking about it, he found out that they mentionned thoughts he had while writing and sending those letters. One day, he decided to try something outlandish. He wrote a letter to himself, thought about a complex string of numbers and words. Then licked his old lucky stamp, stuck it on the letter, closed the enveloppe and left it on a table for a week. The week passed, and Floyd being really busy trying to find a job and make ends meet, he forgot the string of numbers and words he made up. Sunday came and before bed, Floyd took the enveloppe from the table. He opened it. And the data flew back into his mind, as if it had always been there. Taken aghast, he looked at the stamp and in the light, caught it for the first time: the subtle glimmer of holographic ink, WYWH. Understanding his new ability, Floyd Barrett did everything he can to exploit it, and found a job as a postman. God knows how he uses this power now. Desired contest theme: Non-combat focused Stands If I end up winning, I'd rather keep my current flair (also, if possible, may someone correct the typo? "Appelle" takes two Ps. |
2024.04.28 23:47 FormalSoft1328 I need help finding a good Laptop for school and gaming.
LAPTOP QUESTIONNAIRE
My budget is 700€ and the country of purchase is Germany.
Are you open to refurbs/used? Yes i am, If they are not damaged that bad.
How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?
Weight is not so important, but it should BE rather thin.
Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A
N/A
Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.
Video editing, gaming, school (homwork, Powerpoint etc.)
If you're gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?
FPS (CSGO, APEX Legends), Minecraft, Sea of Thieves, Red Dead Redemtion 2 (If possible at 30FPS), medium and high graphics with 30-100FPS.
Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
A good Keyboard and reliable build quality would be nice.
Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.
I am all open for your suggestion!
submitted by FormalSoft1328 to SuggestALaptop [link] [comments]
My budget is 700€ and the country of purchase is Germany.
Are you open to refurbs/used? Yes i am, If they are not damaged that bad.
How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?
- Performance 2. Build quality 3. Battery Life
Weight is not so important, but it should BE rather thin.
Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A
N/A
Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.
Video editing, gaming, school (homwork, Powerpoint etc.)
If you're gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?
FPS (CSGO, APEX Legends), Minecraft, Sea of Thieves, Red Dead Redemtion 2 (If possible at 30FPS), medium and high graphics with 30-100FPS.
Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
A good Keyboard and reliable build quality would be nice.
Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.
I am all open for your suggestion!
2024.04.28 23:44 SpecialistExchange28 Wheelchair Ramps 101 - DIY down and dirty edition 2024
 | Thanks for deciding to read my post today. This is not the definitive or complete explanation of wheelchair ramp design. Before I start let's get the technical potentially legal stuff out of the way first. submitted by SpecialistExchange28 to u/SpecialistExchange28 [link] [comments] Ramps that are indoors or in a fenced in area like a back yard (THE FENCED AREA MAY BE DIFFERENT IF IT IS ACCESSIBLE TO THE PUBLIC). Ramps not used by the public = Food delivery, mailperson, utility meter reader, Jahova's Witnesses, etc. These Ramps do not need to Meer ADA requirements. But should still be functional and safe to use. You'd be surprised at what people do. But if it works, then it works. Backyards that are fenced in and not accessible to the public MIGHT be excluded. FOR ANY RAMP OR ACCESSIBLE FEATURE ADDED TO OITDOOR SPACES THAT THE PUBLIC CAN ACCESS WILL 100% NEED A TOWN OR CITY PERMIT. THIS IS WITHOUT EXCEPTION. Here is where it gets real. If you decide to ignore this and say someone trips, slips pr otherwise gets injured by your accessibility fearure. YOU and only YOU are at fault. Even if it is 100% ADA compliant, the feature was not properly registered with the town or city so it can be noted when and where it is installed and on what property. Next the town or city will fine you a set amount per day it was in place without a permit. For example a permit for my handcycle shed cost $100 that might seem unfair and costly. But if I had just built my shed without permit they could fine me $1,000 per day it was up from the time it was built. Getting a permit and making things 100% or better than ADA complaint, yes it is easy to surpass what the ADA asks for. ADA is the bare minimum expected. This doesn't mean someone trying to con you won't try and sue you. But, if you have things in order such as getting a permit. Making things at least ADA compliant will support your side in a legal issue. Yup that is the borish stuff for the most part. Forget about it and life will likely get very annoying. For those who are interested and want a live community to chillax in to talk about most anything really, listen to music and make requests for Fave songs or topics you would like to discuss. I broadcast live typically in the cold months M-F from around when my pain allows me to get up varies 9am to after noon and I go until my sweetheart arrives home. About 5PM to 6PM I have been broadcasting live 16 years. Quite literally I am just repeating here what I will talk about live also. TikTok until the ban kicks in. Then it's back to Twitch. AbiliTV or AbiliTV Live. If you Google the name do not pay attention to the website I don't have one. And the owner of that sight well let's say I don't endorse him. I am on YouTube, FB, IG,,Twitch, account still there but not used since it went to X (Twitter), Kick - although I don't like the vibe on Kick. Of course I am here getting started here on Reddit in a more text based community. I am in the Wheelchair and Disabilities communities where I am learning about all sorts of amazing people. OK, I always hate posting I am a live content creator. I hate it so much I have hardly any community live. Ramps. What makes a crappy, good, or excellent ramp? For me it is the little details that really make the differences. I will use images to try and explain the bare basics. 1st image: Most people see this and think: My prayers have been answered. No they have not. You will notice the direction the person is using the ramp. Manufacturers do this to play into your desperate need for a ramp solution. They want you imagining how easy there ramp is to use. So they stage images showing that. Much how homes are staged. To make it easier for people to fall victim to slick sales tricks. What if the door were closed and rhe person was approaching the door? Look at the ramp. How does one say open s screen door or storm door that swings out? Most dwellings will have one. Now imagine it's raining really hard and that nice metal surface isn't as grippy? And you have a bag or two of groceries on your lap. Now open the storm door and then before it closes as they are typically on a door closer of some design. As you fight the storm door, are annoyed by the driving rain, and fumbling for your keys. Even on an ideally perfect day without snow or rain this ramp will work 100% against you. Also it isn't wide enough to allow you to move over out of the way ofcthe storm door. Meaning you need to back up and get the door perched against your wheelchair frame to now roll foward to open the entry door. Sadly using the wheelchair brakes just make things all that much more frustrating. 2nd Image: 3 ft ramp $219. This seems decent right? It isn't. You have to account for the pitch or slope. If you have a threshold that is 10 inches higher than the surface you need to reach, this means you need not just a ten foot long ramp but a raised area that meets the threshold that the ramp attaches to closest to the surface you're trying to reach. What happens if you decide to use a short ramp and have a steeper slope? The worst will be to flip backwards going up. Next worst you don't have the upper body strength to make it. The next will be you deciding never to use it except to exit with. It is a little less scary going down. Although you need really good hand strength and dexterity to maintain control at higher speeds. ADDING INFO AS A SAFETY REMINDER: Most manual wheelchairs have what are called brakes. ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ These are NOT brakes like those of a car, or bicycle. Injury or worse can happen when they are used as friction brakes. DANGER: You risk not only destroying your tire and wheelchair but also injuries from catastrophic failures of the tire and possibly the rims of the wheels. These levers no matter if they are push or pull to lock or scissor styled brakes are only meant and made to hold you in place AFTER you use your hands to stop with. OR FEET for those able to do that. The reason these are not brakes in the typical sense is because of how they work. They bite into the tire material and can blow out air filled tires by ripping through the rubber tire. On solid tires they can tear the tire causing it to fail and possibly fall off the rim. If the rim is left exposed and you are moving the metal or composite rim will slide on the surface. The biggest excuses I hear for using these levers as brakes are: They are called brakes. YouTube wheelchair brake basics how to use and not use them. I don't want people ending more disabled than they already are. My hands are to weak to stop me. I understand that. So my best suggestion is rubber coated work gooves. Leather gloves or some form of glove that you like to use. I personally don't like wearing gloves, but when I go on 16 mile strolls I wear a pair. They provide additional traction and that grip means less hand strength is needed to stop overall. It is not recommended to grab the tire for additional friction at any time while moving down hill. If tire use us needed make sure you have a pair of heavy duty leather gloves on. Welding gloves short gauntlet works. Warning: This method destroys gloves rapidly. These is due to the sandpaper like friction the tire creates with its texture and tread design. Extreme heat can build up and burn your hands. So pay attention and release grip changing hand positions to reduce this. Ramps have to be designed to work with the fact wheels like to roll. And steep ramps are what prompted my warning about brake use. I am considering designing a brake system to work like a bicycle that could be added by most people. I will look into this concept at some point. So a stubby short ramp might be low cost but isn't the answer it appears in most manufacturers images. Lots of information that needs to be shared because so many people will fall into the thinking what they have is a good solution and it's harming them and the equipment they use. Good news here: Most towns and cities do not charge or keep the charge very low for ramp and other disability access devices in public spaces. What the permit does is show you the bare minimum of what is required to make your project ADA compliant. Also it resistors your ramp or lift with the town or city and at what property. This way should a nosy neighbor want to whine about your project looking horrible the town or city can reassure that negative rube that you are in full compliance with all the ordinances and ADA requirements. So they can mind their own beeswax. Also the permit is a must if a property owner or landlord are to allow the access in the first place. This has to do with liability and property insurance. Speaking of that crap it would be wise to invest in renters insurance in the event someone claimsxto have been injured by your device. Do not depend only on the landlord or property owner's word that its covered. You could also ask your town or city how that works also to get a straight answer. If the landlord or property owner does claim you are covered always get that in writing. 3rd image shows the lack of what is called a staging area. This is exactly what a porch does. Notice the porch is flat and provides room to move out of the way of any storm door? This is a super important and all to easy to miss feature that makes a ramp go from frustrating to awesome. I even made that mistake with my ramp I built for my garage. I did change it so it has a 6ft deep 4ft wide same as the ramp staging area that once I installed a screen door I use daily. 4th image: Now it gets colorful. Nothing attaches to the porch or the building in my design. This is to respect the property. And save you on extra costs to restore things later. The support for the flat area of the porch: Measure uo to the front top edge of the threshold. Say this is 6 inches or so... Using 4X4 cut to the same width of the porch. These are rated for outdoor ground contact. Next using decking wood this should be equal to the top front edge of the threshold. In effect the timbers are the support they are orange and just on top of the porch. They go across to provide full support. How to determine how many. For the porch shown in your image would likely use three. One right under the threshold, one in the middle, and one right along the front edge of the porch. Decking would go left to right and for the parts with out full support use scrap pieces of 4X4 to position under those rows. An alternative way to set the supports are: under the threshold is left to right full width of porch. Then instead of the others being left to right. Place one on the left going vertical or not left to right. One on the right side going perpendicular to fhe horizontal one. Then you will cut one 4 inches short for the center also placed parallel to the left and right. The front porch edge piece cut to fit the width between the left and right support. That would allow you to place decking horizontally left to right with out worry of adding support for some of the deck strips. The front edge of porch part I feel should be left to right mainly to insure there is no possible way for a ramp to flext or bow in this area. But you are welcome to Google methods on building something like this also. The ramp for the porch will be the longest most likely based on the photos you shared. They are also referenced later in my post. Only around the porch and the outside of the caster wheel guides on each side or the blue color in my image needs a railing, as well as down that first ramp. The other ramps are little more than the plywood laying there. You wouldn't even really need the blue guides on the but they add additional stiffness from bouncing and bending. Again Google is very good for finding examples of how you can design a capable railing. It doesn't need to be fancy, just meet the requirements the ADA sets. To avoid annoying splinters I strongly suggest using iron pipe or proper outdoor rated round railingbars. Benefit of the metal pipe is it is very low cost. Con is in the sun it can get hot. To overcome thar railing grip tape can he used to cancle out the hot part and make it easier to grasp. Grip tape is not required. Thankfully all of this is pretty easy to do if you have some some basic tools or have access to them like narrowing them. If you lack the skill or ability to do this. Trust me when I say buying lunch each day for the hard worker(s) often is payment enough. And Thank You is the perfect payment. Our reward is seeing you enjoying the work put into the project. Last there is an green outline of a 2x4 on each side of the porch staging area. Put one on the far side as well and this should keep the staging area from shifting leftcand right. Surfaces endure a lot more force than we realize. 5th image I used my garage ramp before I corrected the flat staging area issue. So this isn't how my indoor ramp now looks. It has no railings as it is not required and the flat area towards the garage side has a 4 inch tall wheel guard wall to keep me from accidentally rolling off front casters or rear wheels. But, this is roughly how your front porch would look like. All designed to keep everyone safe who uses it. By connecting the ramp to the flat staging areas makes it much harder for it to shift around. In the case of this if you owned the property you would use a contractors grade waterproof glue and 4 8 inch long lag bolts to secure the 4x4 or wood support right next to and under the threshold and bolt it and glue it to the location. Silicone sealant works also as it is mainly to keep insects from making the area home. But since the property needs to be returned to original state, I find that making a saddle staging area works wonders. Sadlle in that it is,like a horse saddle. It isn't bolted to the horse but does use the shape of the horse as the stabilizer. And is easy to remove when needed. Image 6: Sorry about the messy drawing. This is your photo. The green is the railing around the porch and the first longest ramp. The light kind of red horizontal strips are stair tread grip tape. Using wood screws shorter than the thickness of the plywood allows you to have a 2 method way to keep these strips in place. For how much they cost you will thank me. One screw near each corner and two one top one bottom in the center. This insures they are secure. The gue or adhesive isn't likely going to stick in every case. You want full left to right coverage with 2 to 3 inch spacing between each horizontal strip. Yes you can just apply them centered and hope no one slips of they walk closer to the railing. Plus it makes insurance companies feel better also with more safety in mind. In the event someone slips or falls when pictures are taken of l the scene it will look better for you to have provided more safety than not. Also more screws can be used if desired. The only thing to make sure of is all screw heads are flat to the surface. The two method way also known as redundant measures to make sure things don't fail to the point of a catastrophe. The ADA will likely have other suggestions different than I mention. Either will work, I find much of my ideas go beyond ADA requirements. The ramps since they are so minor in slope may even be able to lay strips of 2x4 or even 1x1 that you screw to the underside of ramp. I almost think you could make what would look like a continuous ramp. One step won't really need all 8 ft of plywood however keeping them full length means you could likely add smaller pieces where one ramp ends to meet with the highest point so you can connect them so this keeps them from shifting and moving as they will. The little green marks along the sides of the blue for the length of the ramp represent side supports that are rounded into the ground and screwed to the sides. As you use a ramp that is not secured it will move a little in the opposite direction of your direction of travel. Also it will shift left or right when you first roll onto it. And since the ground shown is easy to return to its original condition once this is removed lowers cost at that time. The blue dots represent horizontal srips placed where needed these are screwed in place as yes they will slide and move into new positions that don't support the ramp. The goal is no bouncing, bending, flexing, warping ramps. As long as all wood is rated for ground contact otherwise it will rot away pretty quickly otherwise. The blue kind of bloody areas are flat sections filled in with plywood. So once you enter this ramp ot remains a plywood surface until the porch area. Where it's decking. 7th image: An example of how your ramp could be designed. In this image since the ramp os longer and rises up higher I definitely would include ratings on each side. But - it may not require them so that is OK also. The redish area is a flat area at least 5 ft deep and 4ft wide. This would allow a person the chance to turn around also. The circled spots denote support placement. Now your steps for me would not need a ramp as I can strong arm my way up short steps or curbs like those. Tha porch would be the only area I would build if this were my place. 8th image: Immediately after moving in I built this and prior to finding the original screen door that the price owners removed and I reinstalled. It was no fun using this ramp when I had to open the door. I typically had one of the kiddos now all grown up open it first for me. The lack of a staging or flat area is a huge mistake. This is ground contact outdoor rated plywood nearly 1 inch thick. Plywood keeps the construction simpler, and removal easier also later. 9th image: Shows the outdoor ramp. Notice the grip tape on this. This is the typical arrangement. I suggest side to side full width strips so able people can walk anyplace and be assured solid footing. The spacing I prefer also assures wheelchair tires have solid grip. The steeper the ramp I say 3 inches between horizontal strips. The shallower ramps for your lower or step ramps can be 4 to five inches between them. If they are wide strips works better. Image 10: This is the ADA recommendation: 36 inches wide. Trust me especially for entry doors you want some space to move over to the side to get out of the way of a screen or storm door. And a place to put down groceries or a package or anything else so you can access the door. 48 inches just happens to be a pretty decent and better than ADA requirements that allows you more room for any purposes. Image 11: Shows your porch. From what I see this should be pretty easy to cover with the staging area over the porch and ramp going down. You want to measure from the front edge ofcthe threshold to the ground in front of the porch the walkway leading to it. This will give you a total height that needs to be accounted for. Say it is a total of 10 inches tall. Your ramp will be 1 foot out per one inch in height. So 10 feet long. Now say you have the room and used 2 8 foot long plywood sheets end to end that is 16 ft. That means your slope will be less overall and easy to roll up. 10 ft will be usable but will be a little harder to roll up. Funny thing is you use the same energy to roll up 10ft or 16ft. You just exert less energy over a longer distance that still equals the amount it takes to go up a 10 foot length. Slope is something only you know what works for you. So if you need a little longer of a ramp if room allows it then that is fine. Oh I forgot skip over the smaller step when making your measurements. That isn't where a ramp will end at to rest. Image 12: The walkway. These little steps are easily rolled up by some wheelchair users. However of you can not. That is fine. The over all length of these looks decently long enough. You in effect are just governing them as I hope I explained. To keep the ramps from moving side spikes can be placed as mentioned 2 at the sides and top, two in the middle sides. And 2 and the bottom sides. They get rounded into the ground next to each area of the Ramos they will be screwed to. You might even be able to lay a plywood sheet down and see if that is enough to raise you up enough. That the plywood could just lay on the walkway. Now most likely that option will not fully work. Offered as an alternative. The very end where ramp ends or starts at the lowest point you can get an aluminum door threshold commercial grade one. It means a little bump up onto the ramp and or down it. I will photograph the one I have as it works like a charm. Also the rest of my garage ramp. The deck to ramp can be connected using lag bolts from underneath into the 2 4x4 support. Using 6 or preferred 7 or 8 inch long lag bolts 3 of them to secure the ramp to the staging deck area. Trust me when I say this, this is a mere drop in the bucket of information on how to design a ramp system. Last little note: Always get a permit prior making anything. The permit should cost nothing or very little since it is an accessibility ♿️ need. The information the permit comes with will also be of huge help in DIY or other options. Sadly there is no way to construct something like this for no cost. However, church groups, friends, local elected officials, and others can be great resources. From fundraising, to helping you locate a foundation or charity to help cover some or all of it. Do not feel bad for asking for help like this and when needed. Being a renter doesn't mean you should not have accessibility. Like I mentioned if I was your fellow disabled neighbor I would help construct this. Tools needed: Tape measure x 2 I always end up needing 2 of them at times. 4 ft level. Carpenter square. Torpedo level. This is a 1 foot long smaller level like the larger 4ft one. Carpenter or construction style pencil ✏️ they are flat and don't roll away when sat down. Wood/deck screws 3 or 4in long. Cordless drill and 2 batteries allows rotation of them when charging. They typically will last 2 or hours each. So when one runs out charge it while using the other. Leather work gloves. Socket wrench set for lag bolts. Screw driver set. Mainly a number 2 Phillips and flathead. These come in handy. Circular saw - they come corded or cordless either works. Hand saw for those cuts to awkward for a power tool. Drill bits for pre drilling holes. Liquid nails to glue some things together. Short wood screws not longer than the plywood is thick. For the grip tape strips. Safety glasses get a few pair. Hearing protection. Cutting wood can be really loud. Same with drilling it and all. Things that could help: Something stable to place wood to be cut on. Saw horses or milk crates the sturdy plastic ones. If they get cut into no big deal. They cut be cut safely on the ground without risk of damaging tools or injuring you. Since we are all in the same boat 🚢 in many respects, I find it sp satisfying helping people by helping them learn how they can also help themselves. It's how I was raised. Knowing you have some information and know where to locate more is my payment. Back to me talking about my live content. A lot like this post and my others, it is insanely boring stuff. 😴 However, I ask what other content creator is willing to discuss and cover this type of stuff? Really go look on Twitch live, YouTube live, TikTok Live, Kick,Instagram Live or any other site allowing live content. How many do you find that can answer questions or get you aimed in the correct direction for the information you need? 16 years now this is what I do for free. I will not and do not monetize my content. I removed myself from Twitch affiliate orogram, I have asked TikTok to allow offboarding and the option to not monetize. I prefer to lead by example. Please consider getting to know this strange goofball of a weirdo on my social media channels. It's not a big community but any means and is well sp unique that most people fail to realize all the nerdy disability related bits of knowledge I have to share. Plus I love light sabers and anime to make me extra geeky. AbiliTV and AbiliTV Live on the main social media platforms. On TikTok my actual username is AbiliTV and my screen or showing name is DJ Wheelchairbeats. If you visit tell me your from Reddit and I will in a very socially awkward way greet you. Well I hope with practice this gets less awkward in time. :) I am not seeking a relationship. Or any side quests. I am at level 54 in my life and to old to give a fart for drama. Making cool new friends, now that's what it's about. Time to get some photos of my garage ramp. |
2024.04.28 23:44 DarkWiccan [offer] Graphic Designer: Logos, Ads, Posters, Flyers, Social Media Posts and Photo Editing!
Hi everyone!
ABOUT ME
I'm José, a freelance Graphic Designer. I have worked with small and medium sized companies both as a freelancer and for long term work. You can count on me for getting the design you want as I can work with different styles and techniques!
SERVICES OFFERED
Business-related designs (logos, flyers, business cards, menus, etc)
Edit/retouch/colorestore photos
Edit casual pictures
Ads, banners, posters
Logo design
Posts, stories, highlights
Illustration
And more, let me know anything else you might need!
Feel free to reach out to me on DM and provide details about the kind of work you need, I will happily send you some examples of my portfolio and provide the rates for the designs you need done.
Looking forward to hear from you!
CONTACT INFO
Direct message link: /message/compose/?to=DarkWiccan&subject=Hiring)
submitted by DarkWiccan to slavelabour [link] [comments]
ABOUT ME
I'm José, a freelance Graphic Designer. I have worked with small and medium sized companies both as a freelancer and for long term work. You can count on me for getting the design you want as I can work with different styles and techniques!
SERVICES OFFERED
Business-related designs (logos, flyers, business cards, menus, etc)
Edit/retouch/colorestore photos
Edit casual pictures
Ads, banners, posters
Logo design
Posts, stories, highlights
Illustration
And more, let me know anything else you might need!
Feel free to reach out to me on DM and provide details about the kind of work you need, I will happily send you some examples of my portfolio and provide the rates for the designs you need done.
Looking forward to hear from you!
CONTACT INFO
Direct message link: /message/compose/?to=DarkWiccan&subject=Hiring)