Me(28M) and my GF (27F) have been dating for over 2 years now. A little background on us :- I am a SW engineer and make a modest salary(about 5 times what my GF makes), my GF was in University until 6 months ago. After she graduated I got her a job in her field through a friend of mine, she gets about 2 times the salary a normal fresh graduate with no experience gets. She lives at home with her parents and doesnt have to pay for anything(rent, food, bill) so her entire salary is for herself. I on the other hand support my mom and 2 siblings, I pay for 2 cars(Mine and my moms), for groceries and other bills at home but still have enough left from my salary to save and to also spend on us(me and my gf).
In the 2 years that we have been dating I have paid for all our dates(movies, food, parking, vacation stays, etc.) and she has almost never paid for anything. This was fine by me because when we started dating she was a university student with no job and not much disposable cash. Even after she started on her job I still kept paying for everything as she wanted to save up her salary for an exam that is required for her career. She has since saved the required amount for the exam.
We recently got talking about how we would be managing our finances when we got married and she said that "both what we earn is OUR money that we should spend to make our future grow WHEN WE GET MARRIED". The operating words here being when we get married not before. So I asked her why it is only when we get married and not when we are in a relationship. She has no proper answer to that except "Thats just the way I am".
Her view is that during our relationship I should spend for everything because thats what her dad did for her mom while they were dating. I said they dated in the late 80s and the world has changed since then. I asked does she think its fair that I spend thousands and thousands of my money while she does nothing. This might be my bad - I also asked her whether "she didnt feel ashamed or have any guilt to just let me pay for everything". We had a fight due to this and now she thinks I am a greedy a**hole who just keeps tabs on all the money I spent on our relationship and that I should find a gf who is willing to pay when they go out.
Some extra information:

• The problem for me is not the money but her attitude that I should pay for everything
• I never asked her to pay 50/50. Just contribute a little I understand she doesnt make the same amount as me. Even volunteering to pay would be enough( for me its the thought that counts)
• While she has not spent on any of our dates she has spent money on gifts for special occasions like birthdays.

Am I the one who is wrong in expecting her to contribute for our relationship?
Obviously there is more to the story but this is the main jist of it. Will provide more info if required.

​
Griger Kel-Am watched from his cell in the old town jailhouse as workers busily erected a scaffolding in the courtyard below. It was shaping up nicely, he thought with an appreciative nod; the skeletal beams reminded him of the bones of dead animals in the Karel Desert and that comparison almost disturbed him.
Which was no easy feat. Griger had seen the worst the world had to offer. He fought beasts in the Staygin Mountains, fended off feral bandits in the Jarel Plains, and weathered more attacks, fights, battles, and death than most people even knew existed. Nothing on earth could rattle him. He couldn’t afford to let himself be shaken. Life, he had learned, was like a surging storm tide. You either stand strong against it, or you get knocked down and swept away. Griger refused to be swept away. He refused to wind up like the old bones he stumbled across on the North Road and in the snowy stepps at the top of the world. A man must be hard and stoic to survive, and he must be harder and colder to thrive.
Despite his grizzled face, many scars, dead eyes, and unseemly facial hair, Griger, a sword for hire since before the Great Plague, had always thrived.
Sighing, Griger left the window and walked over to the door; three brisk paces. He threaded his arms through the bars and tried his best to look up the corridor. In the cells across from him, other men, their faces dirty and white, cowered, waiting for their judgement.
Their open fear disgusted Griger.
Cowards.
Griger wasn’t afraid to die. Dying was easy; you closed your eyes and went to sleep. Living...living was hard, every day a knock down, drag out fight for dominance against something. Outlaws, nature, your own inner darkness. He did not seek death, but he welcomed it. The prospect of a noose tightening around his neck, of his body jerking and dancing before many jeering eyes and spitting mouths, however, almost bothered him.
But as a wise old man he once knew had said, This too shall pass.
A sardonic smile touched Griger’s chapped lips and he shook his head like a man who couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of all the things he’d done in his life to deserve a hanging, self-defense is what did him in. Ha.
Two weeks ago, he was following the river from the North, on foot and alone save for his sword and his rucksack. He stopped at a tide pool to drink, and was beset by a man with a knife. In his frock coat and rubberized boots, he was too well dressed to be a highwayman; he never spoke a word until he lay in the grass, his throat laid open and gushing rich red blood. “Scoundrel,” he gurgled.
Griger relieved him of his boots and pocketbook and carried on. Before dusk, he came across the village and rented a room at the inn. Women in cheap, homespun dresses haunted the halls, knocking at doors to sell their company, and Griger, lying in bed by the flickering light of a lamp, was considering spending the rest of the money on one when three constables broke down the door.
The man he killed, they told him later, was the son of the mayor. At that moment, Griger knew he was in trouble.
They refused to believe that the son attacked first and pointed to the things Griger had taken from his as proof of overland piracy, theft, and murder. He was tried in a packed courtroom and found guilty, standing tall and proud but alone as no lawyer in the land would take his case.
Out in the courtyard, someone shouted, and a team of horses neighed, Griger, sitting on the edge of his cot, looked up at the window. The light was getting weaker as night approached. Shadows, long and black, fell through the slats and made unwholesome shapes across the earthen floor. Down the hall, a man cried out for water, and elsewhere, someone raked a metal cup back and forth across the bars. Would they hang him tonight, Griger wondered, or would they wait for dawn?
“You,” someone spat.
Griger looked up to find the mayor standing at the bars, his bloated face filled with hatred. Another man was with him, this one taller and thinner. They were both clad in the finest garments, but the stranger was undoubtedly better suited. Griger took him for a government official.
“What do you want?” Griger asked, an edge in his voice.
The mayor opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger silenced him. “My name is Urick Farbin. I’m the governor of Ezk Province and I have a proposition for you.”
“What’s that?”
Farbin flashed a tight smile.
It looked to Griger like he wouldn’t be hanged at all.
And that made him smile.
***
Griger watched the countryside pass slowly by, all green hills, trickling brooks, and dense thickets. The occasional straw hut loomed out of the wilderness like an antsy thief, and six miles out of the village, they passed a stately manor house that could only have belonged to the mayor.
It was mid-afternoon and the overcast day wrapped itself around Griger like a wet blanket. The previous night, Governor Farbin sprang Griger from his cell and brought him to the inn, where he was kept under armed guard. Griger spent most of the evening in a straight back chair and whittling. You don’t have to worry, he said to the sentry standing at the door, I’m not going anywhere.
And he wasn’t. He was not an honor bound man by any stretch, but Farbin saved his life, and Griger reckoned that earned him a little loyalty.
The guards didn’t stand down, but Griger didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t have either.
In the morning, they set off in a horse drawn carriage, heading northwest along the Western Road. Now, hours later, Griger sat next to the Governor, who wore a dark cloak and wide-brimmed hat befitting his office. Beside him, the driver held the reins and stared ahead with the practiced indifference of a man used to tuning out things he wasn’t supposed to hear.
“Will you explain to me what I’m doing?” Griger asked.
Farbin was quiet for a moment, then he looked up at the sky, the muted light bathing his craggy features. “Your file says that you’ve done work for the Government.”
“Some,” Griger replied.
“You’ve handled things of a singular nature,” the old man continued. “Things that most other men have never dreamed possible.”
Gringer nodded. He had. His only oath was to himself, and he worked for whoever paid him the highest sum. Men like him were called mercenaries but he preferred to think of himself as a businessman.
“There’s a matter in a nearby village that has been ongoing for quite some time,” Farbin said, picking his words carefully. “I have sent my best agents and they’ve done nothing for it. When the paperwork on you came to my office, I checked your name, as I do all condemned men, and knew at once that you were the man for this job.”
Griger was almost touched. “What’s the job?”
The Governor turned to face Griger, his expression bloodless and sober, as though he had something great yet terrible to impart upon him. “Do you believe in werewolves?”
“Yes,” he said, “I do.”
“Have you ever killed one?”
Griger hesitated. “No,” he said, “not personally, but I was with a party that did.”
Five years before, Griger wintered in a village among the steep foothills guarding the forbidding expanse of Mount Grez. In the deepest, darkest days of the freeze, local livestock began to die, ripped asunder and strewn across snowy fields like trash. Wolf tracks larger than any Griger had ever seen led to and from each scene, and at night, high, ghostly howls rose above the shrieking wind, curdling the blood of even the most sturdy men.
After a watchman on patrol was attacked and gutted in the main square, the men of the village banded together and tracked the beast, eventually cornering it in a cave near a frozen river. Even if he lived to be a thousand, Griger would never forget the monster they encountered. Seven feet tall, coated in matted gray fur, its face canine yet human, its eyes blazed with the fires of hell, and as the men approached, it snapped and snarled, the sounds it made so close to words that even now, Griger wondered if it were trying to speak. They beset it with swords and torches, and when the dust settled, five men were dead and three were wounded. The wolf lay crumpled on the ground, decapitated and aflame. Even with no head, even with its heart divorced from its body, it screeched as the fire consumed it, a high, hitching wail that haunted Griger’s dreams for many moons after.
Farbin nodded. “I figured as much. A man as well-travelled as you has to have seen such things.”
He went on to explain that a suspected werewolf was loose in the countryside around the village of Koreth, a tiny fishing port on the sloped and muddy banks of the Rey River. Three weeks before, sheep and horses began to turn up dead, their bodies laid open and their intestines pulled from their stomachs. Before long, travellers along the Western Road started to die in a similar manner. Every time a new victim appeared, officials found large wolf tracks and strands of fur nearby.
Several nights ago, it broke into the home of a land baron and killed him, his wife, and his daughter. His young son survived, but was blinded in one eye.
‘It was a massive beast,’ the boy told the Governor, a personal friend of the baron. ‘It stood seven feet tall, was as wide as it was long, and had the snarling face of a man mixed with a dog.’
“You want me to kill it,” Griger said. It was not a question.
“Yes.”
The carriage jostled as its big wheels splashed through ruts and puddles. “And in return…?”
“You’ll get a full and unconditional pardon.”
Hmm. Griger considered the offer carefully, even though he was in no position to bargain. “Alright,” he said at last, “I’ll do it.”
They arrived at the village three hours later. Perched on the banks of the lazy river, it seemed a single estate rather than a town. A stone wall, roughly a dozen feet high, enclosed it, pitched roofs visible beyond. Two guards in helmets and chainmail, swords on their hips and crossbows in their hands, stood at the gate, their expressions stony and as hardscrabble as the fields sloping away from the walls.
Inside, tiny buildings lined narrow dirt streets and people in plain, homespun clothes went about their business, pushing carts, hawking vegetables, and playing dice. Old men sat in canned chairs before the town pub and a group of boys chased each other back and forth through shadowed warrens, their faces smudged and weatherbeaten beyond their years. Chickens and pigs, both plump and hale, ran free, the former flapping their impotent wings and the latter snorting happily as they wallowed and shat. Griger spotted a blacksmith in his quarters, striking an anvil with a hammer, and wondered idly if he had any interesting items for sale.
“The people here are stubborn and refuse to flee,” Farbin said.
Griger faced forward. “These types usually are.”
“You are not to worry about their safety,” Farbin warned. “They can see to themselves. Your only concern is to be the wolf.”
“Understood.”
The driver parked near the town inn and tied the horse to a hitching post while Griger and Farbin got out. Griger rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. After so many years of walking wherever he went, he was unaccustomed to sitting for long periods and inevitably ended any long, stationary trek sore.
Past the batwing doors, a shadowy lobby lit by candlelight greeted them. Farbin led Griger directly up the stairs and to a tidy room with a single, neatly made bed and a desk beneath the window. “These are your quarters,” Farbin said.
“Spacious,” Griger said unsarcastically. He sat on the edge of the bed. “What leads do you have on this wolf?”
“None beyond what I’ve told you,” Farbn said. “My men have scoured the countryside but they haven’t found a thing.”
Griger hummed. “No tracks? Droppings? Nothing at all?”
“Not beyond what I’ve told you.”
That was odd. Werewolves rarely strayed far from their den. Unless they were of the rare half-breed that turned upon the cycle of the moon, man at day and beast by night. But those were as common as an honest man in the High Council - not very damned common at all.
“What are you thinking?” Farbin asked.
Griger said what was on his mind.
“But those aren’t real,” the Governor said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I tell you they are.”
Farbin’s brow furrowed with incredulity. “A man cannot simply change his form, nor can a wolf, for that matter. It goes against all logic.”
All Griger could do was spread his hands. That a man - even a large one - could transform into a werewolf (and that a werewolf could shrink back to the size of a mere man) did defy logic. Griger could not account for it, but he knew it to be so, and he said as much. Farbin, shaken by the confidence in Griger’s tone, nervously scratched the back of his neck and looked constipated. “Put aside what you think you know and ask yourself. What if it is a wolf-man?”
“But what if it isn’t?” Farbin countered.
Griger ticked his head to the side in acquiescence. “Maybe it’s not. Maybe your men have failed to uncover a den large enough to house a seven foot tall monster. Maybe they’ve been looking up each other’s backsides instead of where they should be.”
A dark shadow flickered across Farbin’s face. “My men are highly trained and highly skilled.”
“That’s why you came to me.”
Farbin fumed. “I came to you because you have experience in such things.”
“Right,” Griger said. “I do. And I’m telling you - in my expert opinion - that if there is no den, the wolf is a changeling. I cannot explain the science behind how and why it is a changeling. I don’t know how it can happen...but it does. You have to consider the possibility that you are looking for a phantom, that your wolf may be out there right this second ploughing a field or herding sheep and not asleep in a cave waiting to be found and made.”
Farbin turned away and put his hands on his hips. No shoulder had ever been colder, and for a second, Griger thought the old man was going to send him back to the gallows. “Alright,” Farbin finally said, “suppose it is a half-breed. What then?”
“I want to see where the latest attack happened.”
A half an hour later, Griger and Farbin stood before a large stone house with a slate roof and wide windows. A dirt drive looped around an ornate fountain and tall trees rustled in the new breeze. Several Provincial Guardsmen accompanied them, all with swords and crossbows and one, the commander, with a rare flintlock on his hip. Farbin led Gringer to the west side of the structure. “The wolf came in through the servants’ entrance,” he explained. A set of paw prints led to the door and Gringer knelt to study them. Roughly half a foot apart, they were slightly larger than any other he had seen.
Inside, the house was dark and cold, shadows clustered in corners like demons waiting for the fall of night to advance their ghoulish aims. Dried blood stained the wooden floors and spackled the bare walls. “Has anyone seen this creature and lived but the boy?”
Farbin shook his head. “No.” His face was white and strained, the somber, funeral atmosphere affecting him.
“You’ve told me everything?”
“Yes.”
Griger nodded to himself. If the wolf were a changeling, someone, somewhere likely would have seen it coming or going. That was a strike against his theory. On the other hand, there were likely dozens of isolated farms and homesteads scattered through the surrounding countryside. The wolf could be anyone from anywhere.
“I want to talk to the locals,” Griger said as he and Farbin walked back to the carriage.
“Right.”
“I’ll also need a team of men at my disposal,” Griger said. “And a sword.”
They were sitting across from each other in the carriage’s enclosed cab. Without, the sky was beginning to cool to purple and evening gloom stealthy crept from the forest. “We’ll get you one.”
“It must be made with silver,” Griger said.
Farbin frowned. “Silver is a poor alloy for sword-making.”
“But it’s the only alloy for werewolf killing,” Griger said. “It shouldn’t be made entirely of silver, but there must be some in it, the more, the better.
Farbin nodded that he understood.
By the time they made it back to the village, full dark had fallen. The streets stood deserted, the animals locked up for the night and most of the people hunkered in their homes. A few guards walked the lanes and dooyards, bows and swords at the ready, and a stray cat with no tail slunk furtively between piles of refuse, its ears laid flat against its skull and its fur matted and crisscrossed with scars from battles past.
The only activity was at the pub attached to the inn, where lights burned in the segmented windows and the chatter of many voices drifted into the street, occasionally flaring in laughter or song. Apparently, those hearty souls refused to let a wolf stand between them and their end-of-day festivities.
Griger’s respect for them increased.
Before entering, Farbin and Griger called on the blacksmith, a burly man with a bald head and a mustache that reminded Griger of walruses he had killed and eaten at the top of the world. Griger explained his need and impressed upon the man a sense of urgency. “I need it as soon as you can possibly have it ready.”
The blacksmith nodded gamely. “I’ll have it by dawn.”
Farbin took out his purse and paid, then they made their way to the inn.
Inside, a roaring fire crackled in the stone hearth and lamps on the walls sent shadows flickering across the floor. A dozen men sat at the bar with stines of beer and a half dozen more occupied the many tables in the middle of the room. A barkeep kept the drinks flowing while a pretty waitress with her blonde hair done up in an elaborate braid like a golden tiara brought trays of beer and pretzels to the tables.
Griger and Farbin sat at an empty table near the fireplace and Farbin removed his gloves. “Men will make merry even while the world burns around them,” he mused.
“Why not,” Griger said, “they can’t do it in the grave.”
The women came over and they ordered a pitcher of beer and a sandwich each. While they waited, Griger went to every man one-by-one and asked them about the wolf. They responded, to a man, with an eye roll or a dismissive laugh. None were worried in the slightest. One man lifted his brow in a pitying sort of way and looked Griger up and down as though he were mad. “Werewolves? Why, those were banished from the Realm centuries ago, it’s all much ado about nothing.”
“It’s a big wolf,” the barkeep said, “and dangerous too, that much is fact. But it’s a lot of hysteria. People today are too goddamn soft. In my time, we had wolves and bears too. If they acted out of line, we hunted them down and cut their heads off.”
The last man Griger came to was a wispy, white-haired oldster with rheumy eyes and three days’ worth of stubble covering his angular chin. Baggy brown clothes, old and wrinkled and caked in the dirt of the field, hung slack from his scrawny frame, and his long, spindly fingers threaded through the handle of his mug like fleshless bone. If Griger had ever seen a man who bore the official title “Town Drunk” he wouldn’t look the part any more than the old man.
Before Griger could ask him a single question, he spoke in a rusty voice that conjured images of graveyard gates in the dark Province of Helem. “I seen it,” he said, “and it weren’t no regular wolf neither.”
The barkeep sniffed. “You see lots of things, Sel. Like them little pink elephants.”
A wave of mean-spirited laughter ran through the bar, and Sel’s jaw clenched. Griger sensed that Sel was often made sport of at the bar.
Ignoring the other, Griger asked, “You’ve seen it?”
Sel nodded and held up three fingers. “Thrice, in fact,” he said with a belch.
“Tell me.”
The old timer looked up at him with a twist of suspicion. “Down by the road leadin’ up,” he said.
“All three times?”
“All three times,” Sel confirmed.
Once a mason, Sel had moved to the village ten years before to try his hand at farming, he explained. His homestead, comprising five acres, a tumbledown barn, and a decomposing shack masquerading as a house, sat below the walls, in a hollow between the hill and the river. Many nights, he sat on the front porch and “communed with the King” (King Rum, Griger assumed). From that perch, he witnessed “The damned beast” loping toward town. “The first time, I seen’t it over in the road,” he said, pronouncing road as rud. “I have good eyesight and I knew right off it weren’t normal, so I jumped outta my chair and ducked down real low so ways he couldn’t see me.”
Sel couldn’t provide a description of the wolf beyond “near eight damn feet tall and built like a mountain” but Griger didn’t need one. The old man’s story supported his supposition that the wolf was coming from somewhere else and not a den in the hills. Why would it come down the middle of the road each time? The only thing to the south was the river and open fields dotted by stands of forest, all of which Farbin’s men had already searched.
Werewolves are nocturnal creatures who sequester themselves somewhere dark and dry during the day. Farbin’s men should have found it by now. That they hadn’t suggested that it was a changeling.
Thanking Sel for his help, Griger went back to the table and sat across from Farbin. “The baron’s house lies in the direction of the river,” he said, more to himself than to the Governor. “What of the other attacks?”
“Mainly in that area,” Farbin said, “why?”
“The changeling - and that’s what it is - comes from across the river. How many homesteads are there beyond the banks?”
“At least two dozen,” Farbin said.
Griger crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “I want your men, tomorrow, out there going door to door with garlic. Make everyone they come across smell it and anyone who sneezes is put under watch.”
The Governor looked stricken. “But...why?”
“Changelings are allergic to garlic,” Griger said.
Farbin pursed his lips in contemplation. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll have them start at first light.”
After dining, they adjourned to their rooms, Farbin on one side of the hall and Griger on the other. A team of six Guardsmen took up position in the empty saloon and kept watch, ready to roll out at a moment’s notice. Griger threw the window open and perched on the ledge, the night breeze washing over him and rustling his graying hair. He rolled a cigarette, lit it with the bedside candle, and looked up at the glowing face of the waxing moon. Tomorrow night it would be full and the changeling would be compelled to turn and hunt as the tide was compelled to crest. It could come tonight still, but unless it was killed, it would return tomorrow for certain, mad with bloodlust.
Well past midnight, Griger blew out the candle and retired. The mattress was far too soft and it took him nearly a half hour of tossing, turning, and muttering curses to himself to find a position he liked. Once he did, he fell into a light sleep from which he was aroused near dawn by a knock at the door. One of the guards informed him that the blacksmith was finished with his sword, and after dressing, he and Farbin went to collect it. Comprising a simple blade with a guard and a grip, it was far from the most opulent weapon Griger had ever wielded, but it was well-suited to his needs and fit comfortably in his hand.
Back at the inn, Farbin gathered every available man under his command, including the constable and his three deputies, and ordered them to sweep the countryside as Griger had suggested the night before. They showed no reaction despite their lord’s strange request, and departed in a single file line.
The saloon opened for breakfast at six and Griger and Farbin each had a plate of eggs, bacon, and beans. People began to drift in as they ate, Sel the Drunkard at the head of the pack. The maiden, who quartered somewhere upstairs, came down in a simple white dress beneath a waist apron, and Griger’s eyes tracked her as she carried out her functions. The dress - loose and high cut - revealed nothing of her bosom, but pulled tight across her bottom when she leaned over to set food and coffee in front of her guests. Their gazes met, and her eyes flicked quickly away like two timid minnows in a fish bowl.
She was beautiful.
She reminded him of someone.
His mind went back to the jagged mountains atop the world, to a little cabin where weary travellers waited out the snowstorms that raged sometimes for weeks in the winter. There, in one of the most isolated outposts of the Realm, lived a woman Griger had known. She was tall and gaunt whereas the barmaid was average and healthy, her hair was black to the maiden’s blonde, but their eyes were the same breathtaking hazel. Now, staring at his plate, his chest stirred in a way that it hadn’t in years.
He didn’t like it.
“...else,” Farbin was saying.
“Yeah,” Griger said, as though he knew what Farbin had said. Now, the woman he loved one winter was on his mind and his mood was verging on foul. He recalled the way her hair brushed the creamy slope of her throat when she turned her head, the sound of her laughter, how her heels dug into his behind, urging him deeper unto her.
He was young, then, and a fool. People, he learned later, come and people go. Loving someone...indeed even hating them...was pointless, for in a breath of summer wind, they’re gone.
After finishing with breakfast, Farbin requested a metal tub be filled with water so that he could bathe. While he did that, Griger threaded his sword through his belt and walked down to the river, keeping his eyes open for wolf tracks. He spotted a few in the dirt edging the road, all pointing in the direction from which he had just come, and squatted down to examine one more closely.
Just before reaching the water, Sel’s farm appeared on the right, the main house seeming to sag in the middle as though under the burden of years and the field out back overgrown and gone to seed. The place looked as though it had died, come back to life, then died again. The screen door, which naturally hung askew, banged open, and Sel himself backed out butt first, a ceramic pot in his hands. He turned, saw Griger, and hesitated, then ducked his head and scurried down the stairs, disappearing around the side of the house Griger lingered a moment, then followed, tangles of grass pulling at his boots. In the back, a clear patch boasted several pots like the one Sel had come out with, each blossoming with an assortment of multicolored flowers. Sel knelt before one and heaped rich soil in with his hands. A gust of wind flipped his lank, white hair back and forth, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of his thin mouth.
“You garden?” Griger asked.
Sel shot him a dirty look. “I do,” he said, a defensive edge in his voice. He stopped, favored the flowers with a sober look, and added, “These plants are the only friends I’ve got.” He chuckled self-consciously.
“Plants seem like they’d make poor friends,” Griger said. “When the first frost comes, they leave you.”
Sel ticked his head to one side in acquiescence. “Tis better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.”
An image of the girl at the top of the world flashed across Griger’s mind, and for a moment he could feel, feel, her presence. “I don’t believe that,” Griger said. “Loss is hard for a man who’s known love.”
“Still better than never knowing it at all,” Sel said and got stiffly to his feet. He dusted his hands on his pants.
“You’ve never lost someone,” Griger said.
“You’ve never loved someone,” Sel countered.
Griger stiffened. Mouthy old bastard, yes I have.
“What do you want?” Sel asked.
“I wanted to ask you about the werewolf.”
Sel’s face crinkled. “I told you everything I know.” He started walking back to the front of the house, and Griger fell in beside him.
“Is there anywhere around here you think a werewolf might live?” Griger asked. “Caves? Dens? Anything.”
“There’s some caves about,” Sel said, “other than that, I can’t say.”
They were on the porch now, Sel holding the door open.
“Can you tell me your story one more time?” Griger asked. “Maybe it might jog something you forgot.”
Sel sighed. “I don’t have nothin’, okay?”
He started to go inside, but Griger stopped him. “Please?”
The old man looked at him, then sighed. “Fine. Come in.”
They sat in Sel’s tiny and cluttered parlor. The furniture was as old and threadbare as the man who owned it, and the simple walls were crowded with old photos, many of them featuring a smiling woman with dark hair. She looked nothing like the girl at the top of the world, but Griger was reminded of her anyway. “Your wife?” he asked.
Sel, seated in an armchair across from him, busied himself pouring Griger a cup of tea. “Yes,” he said shortly.
From his tone - and the woman’s absence - Griger inferred that she was dead. “I’m sorry.”
Sel’s hand shook as he pushed the cup across the table. “So am I,” he said.
“Children?” Griger asked.
“Three,” Sel said. “Two boys and a girl.” Tears crept into the old man’s faded eyes and he fixed his gaze on a point over Griger’s shoulder. Open displays of emotion made Griger uncomfortable, and he shifted in his seat, sorry that he had brought the topic up. “We were married thirty years,” Sel said. His lips trembled and Griger thought he was going to break down crying. Instead, he smiled. “Those were good years.”
Griger nodded to himself. “I bet.”
He must not have sounded convincing, because Sel creased his brow. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Ever loved someone?”
“No.”
Sel looked at him with a frank directness that bordered on mind-reading, and though it wasn’t possible, Griger could almost imagine the old man was seeing into his mind...and his heart. “You’re a liar.”
Griger considered his reply for a long time. “When I was a boy,” he said. “I thought I was in love.”
“What happened?”
Perhaps the old man had cast some kind of pall over him...or maybe he was in a rare mood...but Griger heard himself answer honestly. “I left her.”
A heavy silence lay between them.
“You left her?”
Griger nodded. “I moved on. She had her ways and I had mine. I didn’t see us working.”
“You regret it.”
“Yes,” Griger responded instantly. “I wish I tried.”
Sel nodded understandingly. “All boys make mistakes. Some are just luckier than others, I reckon.” He laughed, his posture relaxing, and Griger realized he was starting to like the old bastard.
“True,” he said. “Now your story…”
Sighing, Sel lifted a hand. “I don’t have much ways else to say.” He ran through his story just as he had before, with no additions or subtractions.
Griger nodded that he was satisfied, and got to his feet. “That’ll be all.”
Sel walked him to the door and stuck out his hand. “That damned thing’s a monster,” he said as they shook, “you watch yourself.”
“I can handle a werewolf,” Griger assured him.
Later on, after returning to the inn, Griger and Farbin rode out to meet the men on the other side of the river, catching up to them at a fork in the road. “No one’s sneezed or broken out, sire,” Farbin’s second-in-command, a tall, rodent-faced man, reported.
“Expand the dragnet,” Griger said.
Rat-face looked at Farbin for confirmation, and the Governor nodded.
They would find the wolf...or the wolf would find them.
Griger wanted the former, but would settle for the latter.
If he had to.

Living in NYC sucks. If you grew up in the suburbs your whole life and think it sucks and want to “experience” the city think twice and don’t because you’re going to appreciate what you had before you left for this shithole. I had a big house with a pool, dishwasher, laundry, driveway and I left it for a tiny apartment surrounded by housing projects and no greenery. It smells terrible, looks depressing, and the apartments are basically closets with no amenities. Food choices are great until you gain a bunch of weight because the food is so unhealthy. Sure you can try cooking in your kitchen thats too small to even stand in comfortably never mind spend time cooking a meal and having to wash everything by hand. Groceries are so expensive that you may as well grab bodega food. And forget going to the grocery store in person anyway because the lines are crazy with only one cashier and again, you are limited to what you can comfortably carry because you are not allowed to take any type of carts outside the store because of course people will steal them. Even if you have a car like I do good luck getting parking close enough to even bother.
I think that’s not even the worst part. Those things are slight inconveniences compared to dealing with the types of people who live here. When I moved here I thought I would be surrounded by diverse accepting people. Boy was I wrong. NYC is more segregated and racist than my cozy NJ suburb was. Forget trying to make friends outside of your ethnic or religious group because they want nothing to do with anyone outside of their community. And they will make it very clear to you that you are not welcome. This goes for all groups. People are mostly miserable, antisocial and project their hostility onto others. Don’t even try to say hello to the cashier or ask for assistance in a store. You will be met with aggression. If it’s not on the shelf do yourself a favor and go home and order it online rather than dealing with them.
And to be clear, I work in retail myself so I’m not being intentionally disparaging. Makeup artistry was a bust for the above reasons, it’s hard to get bookings because it’s over saturated and again you will be limited to your ethnic group. So that investment went down the drain so I enrolled back to get my degree while working cosmetic sales in retail. If you take a job working with the public here prepare for extreme verbal and even physical abuse multiple times a day. People will throw things at you, insult you simply because you’re out of stock or something or that it took you too long to ask them if they needed help. You will greet them and they’ll not even acknowledge you but if you don’t greet them they’ll scream like a hyena and complain. They’re so impatient they can’t even wait in line to pay without screaming there needs to be another register open. Ironically their shitty behavior is why nobody wants to do these jobs, leading to having one register open in a large city. Plus you have extreme amounts of criminal theft because nobody gets charged for it and if they do they’re let out the next day no bail.
After almost four years here I’ve become a shell of my former self, I hate the world and the people in it. I’ve increasingly self isolated and don’t leave my apartment besides work at this point. There maybe was a short time I enjoyed things here but I could have totally accomplished those things living one state over and coming in for short visits. My stress levels and anxiety are so severe I cry almost every day. I’m begging my fiancé at this point to move back because I can’t take it anymore. We are High school sweethearts and moved here so he can make way more money and I truly want to support his career. I acknowledge moving back home will bring major challenges to him with getting to work at this time so I’m actually considering moving back to my parents house without him at this point. It’s really that serious. The alternative is to quit my job and just become a hermit because I hate stepping outside my door. The cherry on top was ordering delivery and watching the poor hardworking immigrant gentleman get robbed at knifepoint on my buzzer camera as I felt guilty and helpless. The cops came but the criminal probably never got caught. I gave the poor man my last $20 in my wallet and I know it wasn’t my fault but if I got off my depressed ass and picked up my own food it wouldn’t have happened.
I feel thankful to own a car because I would have broken down a long time ago if I had to take MTA. The last time I was on it a few months ago a man with oozing open sores started smoking crack in the train car. But even a car doesn’t protect you from the crazy people on the street. Careful opening your windows all the way because I’ve had people reach in my car demanding money. A man damaged my mirror because I wouldn’t give him anything. Another man j walked in front of my car and I tried to stop as fast as I could for him to pound on my mirror and threaten to kill me, forcing me to go through a red light. Oh and my perfectly clean Honda civic has gotten hit so many times parked on the street it looks almost totaled. I mean at least it wasn’t a particularly nice car but I worked my ass off to pay for it for it to be destroyed by people who have no regards for others property.
If you made it this far, all I will say is don’t move here unless you want to become the hateful person I have. All this ranting I’ve done about how bad the residents here are but I feel myself becoming just like them. Anyone who says they like it here is just lying to themselves or lives in a segregated yuppie neighborhood. I view living here like an abusive relationship. Sure you can make a lot more money but at the expense of your mental well being.

Hello,
Here's my poor attempt to sell myself like a bad infomercial. My social circle is pretty much limited to people I work with or short conversations with customers. I live in the US on the East Coast but grew up on the West Coast. I have two high-energy dogs, an Australian shepherd mix and huskie mix. I have a 1 year old son. I do enjoy cooking and making new dishes, but I am by far the worst baker. My favorite TV show is the office, please don't say parks and rec is better. I've had many random jobs in the past, with even random stories to go along with. I'm a bit of a nerd, I have a comic collection and random Star Wars collectibles, but I'm not ashamed. I have a few tattoos that have no meaning at all, and I plan on getting more soon. My music taste is stuck in the early 2000s rock, punk, and screamo. I'm just trying to make a friend outside of work.

Hello,
Here's my poor attempt to sell myself like a bad infomercial. My social circle is pretty much limited to people I work with or short conversations with customers. I live in the US on the East Coast but grew up on the West Coast. I have two high-energy dogs, an Australian shepherd mix and huskie mix. I have a 1 year old son. I do enjoy cooking and making new dishes, but I am by far the worst baker. My favorite TV show is the office, please don't say parks and rec is better. I've had many random jobs in the past, with even random stories to go along with. I'm a bit of a nerd, I have a comic collection and random Star Wars collectibles, but I'm not ashamed. I have a few tattoos that have no meaning at all, and I plan on getting more soon. My music taste is stuck in the early 2000s rock, punk, and screamo. I'm just trying to make a friend outside of work.

Hello,
Here's my poor attempt to sell myself like a bad infomercial. My social circle is pretty much limited to people I work with or short conversations with customers. I live in the US on the East Coast but grew up on the West Coast. I have two high-energy dogs, an Australian shepherd mix and huskie mix. I have a 1 year old son. I do enjoy cooking and making new dishes, but I am by far the worst baker. My favorite TV show is the office, please don't say parks and rec is better. I've had many random jobs in the past, with even random stories to go along with. I'm a bit of a nerd, I have a comic collection and random Star Wars collectibles, but I'm not ashamed. I have a few tattoos that have no meaning at all, and I plan on getting more soon. My music taste is stuck in the early 2000s rock, punk, and screamo. I'm just trying to make a friend outside of work.

So I'm a full time teaching assistant at this private international university, which is part of a big conglomerate (some of their subsidiaries include X School, X University, X car, X mart, X resort, X theme park etc). They gave us teaching assistants a "service contract" instead of a labour one. The difference is that on this contract they are not obligated to pay into our national medical insurance or social insurance (social insurance is responsible for paying us women maternity benefits and eventually retirement). Some of my main concerns are:

• Nowhere in our contract does it say how long we're supposed to work, nor the fact that we're "full-time" staffs (or "service provider" if we're going by technicality). The job description says we're working an EQUIVALENT of 44 hours a week, which I interpret as doing a 44 hours WORTH of work a week. However, we are required to come to this office 44 hours a week, so full week days and 1 full Saturday every other week. But we're TAs. For now I only have classes 2 days a week. So most of my time at this office I'm just doing my own thing or Youtube and would much rather being able to do this at home, but apparently in order to work from home we need approval from the University president. But arent we service providers, not staffs?
  
• So all their employees and "collaborators" will have to take a code of conduct exam. Failing this will lead to a 1/3 monthly income deduction. And according to the people who have already taken this exam online, its not just things like dont take bribes and dont date students. It includes questions about the conglomerate president's passion project X car as well. Is this ethical to deduct income from their "service providers" when we're not even working for X car, we're with X University??
  
• They are INTENSE about tech use. Apparently CCing the wrong people, addressing people wrong in emails, having files in the desktop of your work laptop etc will get you the 1/3 monthly income deduction too. Gosiping related misdemeanours (screenshoting teams messages etc) will get you fired? I noticed a clause in my contract that doesnt permit salary transparency). Again, we're service providers and I'm fully prepared to raise hell if they tried this on me.
  

All advices greatly appreciated.

Some quick background: This diary was written by a Manchu soldier who served in a combined unit of Mongols and Manchus , he was sort of like a nowadays squad leader, for he had 4 soldiers under his command. The diary itself covered a period of roughly 3 years: from the New year's day of 1680 to 1682, and it mainly focused on the author's military career during the Manchu conquest of the southern China. Although as you can probably tell, the author himself was not exactly the most educated and bright guy on the earth and due to the nature of his job this diary's narration suffered badly from many huge gaps, it was a really unique and valuable piece of historical source.
In the reign of Elhetaifin khan(the original text omitted this title here, yet the author did use Khan to address his monarch in the later part of the dairy), in year 19, the canary monkey year of the Manchu calendar.
The new year‘s day: General Manggitv(this is apparently either a spelling mistake or a nickname, since this general's name was actually Manggitu as we can find from the later part of the diary and other history sources) led his councilors,janggins (a Manchu military title)and local officials to the city of Nan ning fu (The word fu already means city in Chinese , but the author,as a Manchu, clearly was unaware of it and he probably thought it is a part of the city’s name. So in the original text he wrote Nan ning fui hoton, in which hoton means city in Manchus,thus it could be translated as the city of Nan ning city). They entered the Dung Yoo miyoo(meaning the temple of eastern mountains in Chinese) and made a dedication to the divine. The subordinates of the councillors prostrated themselves to each other to show their courtesy. By the time of the festival, the janggins of the eight banners and soldiers started to eat and drink, even those armoured bayaras(one of the most elite Manchu military units) went on the street, they got some women’s clothes and wore them themselves to pretend like women, and they sang along with those who were singing the song of Doo yang ke (again, ke already means song in Chinese, and the author was not aware of that. I think making this kind of mistake twice probably suggests the author has no knowledge of the Chinese language.)to entertain themselves. The image of the old men (sakdasa in the original text, which probably refers to the author’s parents) emerged in my heart, fuck.
25th,February: Shang zhi xin(a Chinese dynast who serves the Manchus), the mighty conqueror general, the king who pacified the south; along with Manggitu,the general of the south theatre; Ecu, the general of Jiangning; Lebei and Hife, the counsellor and lord of the banner; and Ehene, the vice janggin, met together to hold a war council on the best method to enter and conquer Yun nan(a province in southwestern China).The plan was made, and it was decided that we should initiate the invasion next winter. I sewed a tent and saddle for my horse(not sure what exactly that means,do horses need tents?) and also fixed my weapons.
3rd,March: Mang(this time for sure a nickname of general Manggitu, potentially coined by the author himself) said there was a decree issued from the khan’s court…..(the content of the decree was too long and rather irrelevant, so I did not translate it). I took some time to finish the necessary maintenance.
5th,March: The date of departure was approaching, so an order was given to us to prepare our weapons.
6th,March: Ganduhai and other low-ranked janggins strictly inspected the quantity of the horses. The message of Ma qiyang yen’s rebellion against us was delivered to our camp again, he was the Chinese governor of Bin jeo.
13th,March: General Mang(nickname of Manggitu) selected 3 bayaras from each niru(the manchu equivalent of battalion, roughly 300 men strong), and he handled this force to Hife, the lord of the banner, and Ehene, the janggin of the flag(apparently Mr Ehene got recently promoted). Hife also had 5 regiments of Chinese auxiliary forces under his command, each of which was 1000 men strong . With this army, he was ordered to fight the above-mentioned rebel Ma Qiyang Yen, and he then marched towards the direction of Bin jeo.This day my eight horses(the author forgot to use plural form and accusative case here,I assume it was due to his depression)were stolen by thieves. My heart feels so heavy. After reporting this to the general, the general informed the officials and the civilians about this matter, and an investigation was initiated; it turned out to be fruitless.
16th,March: General Ecu reached Nanning city(I assume the author was learning Chinese, since this time he did not say the city of Nanning city again)from the county of Yung Mvn by water.
20th,March: The military horse from Yung Mvn also reached our camp. The general ordered to allocate these military horses from Yung mvn among those armored soldiers who did not have one. At that time (the couriers) did not want to surrender the horses, so (the general) scolded the leaders of every regiment, calling them weak. General Mang gathered all those janggins of the camps together and told them: "Why have those horses still not been allocated as ordered? You were ignoring my orders! It was not even something hard to do, yet you refused to follow it! Now, go and bring those horses to the city, they are government property! " Then the matter was finally settled.
25th,March: We departed from Nanning city and I was leading a squad of four soldiers in a niru. Mang the general and Lebei, Hife the lord of the banner, led the army, aiming to reach Liu zhou. We marched past the Jing ceng sy(a Chinese temple) and Kun lun pass.
In five days, we marched 170 ba(a Manchu unit of length, each ba equals roughly 500 meters)
30th,March: We reached Bin Jeo; first, we met the Bayara force; then, I and my squad were allocated to the ranks of the Aliha force(it is a combined force of Mongol and Manchu soldiers.The word Aliha means "those who are in charge").We then formed a new platoon.
1st,April: A servant of my platoon mate Hooxan distributed some beef among us. These beef meats were acquired through killing some random natives. This was discovered by the general’s own armoured guards. He called me and other squad leaders to his tent, then he asked us to sit down and comforted us with his kind words. I felt so ashamed. In the end, we were all punished, Ganduhai was sentenced to a fine of three months' salary, I and the vice janggin Dandai were sentenced to a fine of six months' salary. Bosoku (a Manchu military title, refers to a low-ranking cavalry officer) was sentenced to 70 strokes of the cane. Hooxan from the Booju niru,who was the master of the servant, was sentenced to 80 strokes of the cane. The servant was sentenced to 100 strokes of the cane.
4th, April: The rations of the army were running out, so the general decided to move the camp. We moved to a place that was 15 ba away from Bin Jeo. We were ordered to search for food in every nearby village and to hull rice plants if we could find any. I sent the children of my servant to the village,(they)discovered some rice plants hidden by the villagers in their basements, (we)dug a hole in the ground to hull the rice.
6th, April: The Chinese auxiliary force was ordered to build a temporary bridge on the river near Bin Jeo.
8th, April: A decree was issued by the ministry:"Prince kemungge and Brother king Shang zhi xin(previously mentioned Chinese dynast who supports Manchu rule) ,please(the original text was,quite surprisingly, using operative mood) meet together, then use your joint force to attack Ma qiyang yen’s force.General Manggitu, why have you not launched the campaign to enter and conquer Yun nan? You need to explain this to us immediately" Then we heard again the rumour that Hai Qing county,Jin Men, and Xia Men of Fu Jian province were conquered by our empire.
13th,April: Once again, a scolding message was sent from the ministry, asking us to enter and conquer Yun nan.
16th,April:Since the servant of the soldier( probably referring to the Hooxan incident)harmed the local people, a decree that barred all soldiers from leaving their post was issued.
19th,April: We crossed the river near Bin jeo, marching 15 ba, and then we established our camp at a place called Too deng near Xa Moo San. I made a small shack for myself with grass. This day the brother king(Shang zhi xin) sent a letter to our camp:" governor Jin (a Chinese) is leading the marine force and traveling by water with 23 boats. I myself am currently dwelling with military governor Jelken. We shall start to move with our force on April 15th. I pray that your excellency could capture Lai Bin County; if not, I will go and capture Vsiowan County. I hope I can meet you at that place. I wish we could then discuss whether we should wait for Prince Kemungge or simply attack Liu zhou with our own force." And the mighty baturu, the man born for war, the governor of Yun Gui, general Zhao liang dong( a Chinese general who served in Manchu army, he was greatly respected by the author)also sent a secret message to our camp: "The leader of the rebels Wu san gui, Wu guo gui were now dead. The ones left were Wu ying qi, ,Wu Shi Fan, and Hu Gui Zhu. They were nothing but a bunch of incompetent dollards and their morale was already shattered. This is the time to conquer Szechuan! Four(armies)need to conduct attacks together, we shall capture all their land, and it will be done in one strike!" I heard it carefully and respectfully.
23th,April: The war council decided to capture Lai Bin first. Thus, an order to prepare a ration of one month’s worth was issued. I ordered someone to dig a hole in the ground to hull the rice plants.
28th,April: The soldiers were sent out to collect enemy intelligence. I also went out with them.
29th,April: I was sick, I puked.
1st, May: Prince Elhe himself was leading his army back to the north, it was said they were going back to Beijing, I went out to follow him, but contrary to my wish, I failed to go back, fucking frastrute(author made a spelling mistake here, and it was followed by a large gap period, so he was probably super fed up).
7th, May: The rebel leaders from Yun nan,namely Fan Qi Han and Jan Yang, joined forces with Ma Qiyang yen and crossed the river near Lai Bin. We heard that they stopped near the Da Xi Bridge. General Mang ordered all the men to stay within the camp and build fortifications. My troops also participated in building the defences, and they were all complaining.
13th, May: The hostile force was approaching, they stopped at a place 5 ba away from us and set up camp on a monticule. General mixed the Chinese auxiliary forces and our own forces together in order to defend the camp. I was personally patrolling the camp with my full-set of armour on for the entire day.
15th,May: Subordinates of the rebel Ma qiyang ye, fake general Ma qiyang lei, and Rao yi lung,together with the rebel’s fake generals Fan qi han and Jan yang from Yun nan challenged us with more than 10 thousand soldiers. They arranged many anti-horse obstacles and large barriers near Too Deng. The army of the enemy itself was drawn up in a four-line formation and was equipped with many muskets and elephants. Seeing this, General Mang ordered every subcamp to select 1 janggin and 10 armoured soldiers to secure the luggage. Then the rest of the army went out to fight the enemy. Our army was marshalled as follows: "Hife, the lord of the banner, stood at the front of the first line to coordinate the attack. The troops in the second line were commanded by Masita. The first line, in the meantime, was commanded by Ehene. The flank troops of the left wing were commanded by Lebei. In front of the whole army, the general placed the Chinese auxiliary force and their artillery." The enemy rushed towards us; they broke through our first line like it was nothing, and the Chinese could not stop the charging enemy, so they fled from the battle. Seeing this, the banner men from plain red and plain yellow organised two simultaneous attacks with great passion; they penetrated the enemy line, creating two gaps. Yet the enemies fought unyieldingly; they reorganised and concentrated all their forces to strike towards us, ignoring the plain red and yellow bannermen at their flank. Our troops could not stop them, so we started to retreat scatteredly. I saw it all myself, how they drove the bannermen from the bordered blue banner to their anti-horse obstacle. But all of a sudden, the bannermen being chased stopped, and a series of strange "picyang" sounds came from the enemy's direction. Then I saw the soldiers of the first line somehow managed to drive the elephants towards us while the military standards of the bordered yellow banner’s bayara janggin Valda and aliha army(the unit author belonged to)’s vice bosoku( the bosoku himself was probably still recovering from the cane stroke) Ulehi were seized by the enemy. At that time, the soldiers of the second line, including me, saw hardly any option but to shoot desperately towards those beasts. They were charging us from all directions, so we had to shoot while standing back to back, and the elephants looked like hedgehogs. When the elephants acted like grey fishes,(elephants) fled away. My heart felt really strange at that instance, and I could not stop it from beating like crazy. The hostile army then left the plain and retreated to the forest on the mountains. They again arranged some anti-horse obstacles there later that day. We did not fight them again, for our forces went back to the camp to spend the night while defending our fortifications.
Original Manchu text:
Elhe taifin i sohon bonio juwan uyuci aniya，aniya biyai ice inenggi，jiyanggiyvn Manggitv，hebei ambasa，geren janggisa，bana i hafasa be gaifi，Guwangsi Nanning fui hoton i Dung yoo miyoo i dolo isibufi doroloho.Ambasa juwe galai hafasa ishunde hengkilehe.Aniya i ucuri jakvn gvsai janggin cooha gemu jeme omime，bayara uksin i beye giyade，hehe adali miyamifi，Doo yang ke uqun ba uculeme efihe. Mini dolo sakdasa be gvnime alixaha.
Juwe biyai orin sunja de，horon be badarambure amba jiyanggiyvn，juergi be necihiyere wang Xang jy sin，juergi be tuwakiyara jiyanggiyvn Manggitu，Giyangning ni jergi babe tuwakiyara jiyanggiyvn Ecu，hebei amban gvsai ejen Lebei，Hife，meireni janggin Ehene se Yvn nan be gaime dosire jalin hebe aqafi，tuweri dosimbi seme toktoho.Bi morin be ulebume maikan enggemu agvra hajun be dasataha.
Ilan biyai ice ilan de.Dergici wasimbuha Mang....... Mini gamara yaya jaka be gemu dasataha .
Ice sunja de dosire inenggi hanci oho，agvra hajun be sadata seme selgiyehe，
Ice ninggun de Ganduhai buyarame janggisa morin i ton be qiralame baicaha.Bin jeo i jy jeo hafan Ma qiyang yen be ubaxaha seme nurhume boolanjiha.
Juwan ilan de jiyanggiyvn Mang gusai ejen Hife，tui janggin Ehene de emu nirui ilata bayara，dahame dailara sunja ing ni sunja minggan niowanggiyantv cooha be bufi, neneme ubaxaha hvlha Ma qiyang yen be dailame Bin jeo baru jurambuha.Tere inenggi mini jakvn morin hvlha bufi，mini doro alixame，jiyanggiyvn de alara jakade，Jiyanggiyvn sunja ing ni hafasa，irgen de selgiyafi baicabuha，naranggi bahaakv....
Juwan ninggude jiyanggiyvn Ecu，cooha gaifi yungmvn hiyan ci quwan tefi，nan ning de jihe.Orin de yungmvni choohai morisa isinjiha，Jiyanggiyvn gisun morin akv uksinsade yunmvni albani morin be tatame gaifi bu seme。tatarade lak seme burakv ofi，genere kvwaranda be uhuken seme dangsifi.jiayanggiyvn Mang，tuwakiyara kvwarani dajanggisa be gajifi，morin be burakvngge adarame emke hono famxame yabuki serakv jilerxembi，te uthai albani morin be bu seme，morin be tatame gaifi genere cooha de icihiyame buhe.
Orin sunjade bi jiyanggiyvn Mang，gvsai ejen Lebei，hife sebe dahame. Emu nirui duite ton i cooha be gaifi，Nanning fuci，Lio Jeo baru jurafi yabume，Jing ceng sy be dulefi，Gunluwan guwan be tucifi.
Sunja inenggi emu tanggv nadanju babe yabufi.Gvsin de bin jeo de isinafi，neneme geneje bayara be acafi，aliha cooha be acabufi emu meyen obuha.
Duin biyai ice de，mini jalani Booju nirui Hooxani kutele，gvwa i waha irgini ihani yali be dendefi gaijirede,Jiyanggiyvni gocika uksin de nambufi，Jiyanggiyvn，mimbe，kvwaran i da be gamafi，qaqari de tebufi，sain gisun i neqihiyere de，be yertehe.Weile gisurefi，Ganduhai ilan biyai funglv，mimne arahai janggin dandai be ninggun biyai funglu faitame，bosokv be nadanjv，kutelei ejen hooxan be jakvnju，kutule be tanggv tantaha.
Uheri coohai jetere bele lakcafi，ice duide jiyanggiyvn ing gurime，Binjeo ci tofohon bai dubede genefi ing ilifi，teisu teisu gaxan de bele baisu，handu be niohu seme selgiyehe.Bi booi juse be gaxan de unggifi，eye fatame handu baifi gajifi，na be sangga arafi bele niuhuhe. Ice ninggude Bin jeo i bira be fukiyoo ca seme，niowanggiyan tu de afabuha.
Ice jakvn de jurgan ci unggihe bithede：“Ubaxaha hvlha Ma Qiyangyen be kemungge wang anda wang Xang jysin ni emgi acafi dailakini，jiyanggiyvn Manggitu si yvn nan be dailame dosika akv babe hvdun boola sehebi！” Geli fugiyan i goloi Haiqing hiyan，Gin men，Hiya men i jergi babe baha seme donjiha.
Juwan ilan de geli Yvnnan be gaime dosi seme hacihiyara bithe isinjiha. Juwan ninggude cooha kutule be irgen be nungnembi seme,gemu karun ci ume tucibure seme fafun i bithe selgiyehe. Juwan uyun de Bin jeoi bira be doofi,tofohon ba yabufi.Xa moo sani ebele Too deng sere babe ing iliha.Bi orhoi tatan araha.Anda wang ni yabubuha bithede: Dzungdv Gin mukei cooha be gaifi,juwan ilan de quwan be jurambi. Mini beye, tidu Jelkeni emgi cooha be gaifi, tofohon de olhon be jurambi.Laibin hiyan be wesihun jiyanggiyvn gaisu,bi vsiowan hiyan be gaifi, dere aqafi hebdeki.Eici kemungge qin wang be aliyafi Lio jeo fvbe gaire,eici musei cooha uthai Lio jeo fvbe gaire babe ebxeki sehebi.Yvn guii dzungdu baturu bodohonggo jiyanggiyvn Joo liyangdung ni wesimbuhengge:Fudaraka hvlha U sangui,U guwegui bucihe, funcehe U ingki,U xifan,Hv guwejv,Maboose gemu silhi meijehebi,muten akv urse.Ere Suquwan be baha ucuri,duin jugvni sasa Yvn gui be gaime dosici, emgeride toktobuci ombi seme.narhuxame wesimbuhe seme donjiha.
Orin ilan de Laibin i baru ibembi seme gisurefi nakaha,emu biyai jetere bele niohu seme selgiyehe.Bi eye fetebume handu baifi, bele niohuhe.Orin jakvn de hvlha i mejige be gaime,cooha unggirede,bi genehe bihe.Orin uyun de mini beye fudame nimehe.Sunja biyai ice sunja de, elhe qin wang ni beye cooha gaifi, Beging ni baru bederehe seme donjifi,bi elhe wang be dahame tucifi, elemangga bahafi bedererakv seme kusucehe.Ice nadan de Yvn nan ci jihe hvlha Fan qihan,Jan yang ni cooha, Ma qiyangyen i cooha Lai bin i bira be doofi, Da xikiyoo de iliha seme donjifi, Jiyanggiyvn Mang geren de selgiyefi ing be akdulara de, mini beye cooha be kadalame dobori dulime keremu ulan weilehe.Coohai urse gasaha.
Juwan ilan de hvlha ibeme jifi,bakcilame sunja bai dubede,alin be gaime ing iliha.Jianggiyvn,niowanggiyan tvbe musei cooha de kamcibume keremu tuwakiyabuha.Mini beye dobori inenggi a(u)ksilehei jucelehe.Tofohon de ubaxaha hvlha Ma qiyangyeni fejergi holo Jiyanggiyvn Ma qiyang liyei,Rao i lung,Yvn nan ci jihe hvlha i holo jiyanggiyvn Fan qihan,Janyang uheri tumen funqere hvlha be gaifi, ing be afanjime hanci latunjifi, Too deng ni bade hiyahan kalka miyoocan sufan duin be faidafi ambarame jihe be.Jiyanggiyvn Mang ing toome emu janggin,juwan uksin be werifi,uheri amba cooha be gaifi tucifi,cini dere de hife,masitai be jai meyen i cooha be gaifi faida,ici ergi xaksiha de Ehene uju meyeni cooha be gaifi faida.Hashv ergi xaksiha de lebei xaksiha meyen i cooha be gaifi faida seme afabufi.Niowanggiyan tvbe juleri sindafi,ibeme poo sindame,hvlha uthai fondolome latunjifi,niowanggiyan tv alime muterakv axxame.Gulu suwayan gulu fulgiyan juwe hontoho fakcame angga arame ba buhe.Hvlha bireme emu dalgan i fondolofi,baksalafi bedererede,tuwaci jebele galai baru siribume kubuhe lamun, hvlhai hiyahani hanci ilinaha. Hvlhai piciyang turi tashara adali sindambi . Tuwaqi uju meyen i qooha sufan be birebufi , kubuhe suwayan i bayara janggin walda tu , aliha qooha i funde bosoku ulehi i tu gaibuha,sufan halgime jai meyen i qooha de nikenjihe be , meni geren i gabdara de ,sirdan sengge bula i adali , sufan de hadara jakade , sufan burulame alin i baru genehe . mini dolo faije(u)me seme gvnime tuksitehe.Hvlha neqin baci ikvme, alin i luku bujan de kurlefi ,yamjitala bakqilame hiyahan faidafi bihe.Musei qooha inu afahakv, ing de bederefi , keremu be akdulame tuwakiyaha.

Purchasing from a mutual friend.

• 403,035 Miles
• The oil has to be refilled about every two weeks; they said the “check oil level” light on the dash comes up every two weeks.
• Sometimes the speakers get “static-y” and they have to lightly pound the dashboard to get the static to stop.
• The trunk won’t open.

Otherwise they’ve experienced no problems and it’s been their daily commuter for the past few years. It was passed down from their dad.
They are asking for $850. I will be taking it to a mechanic for further inspection and for repair cost estimates.
The vehicle has the perfect cargo space for my business. I would be driving it for whenever I have a job, about 10 days every month. 50-80 mile round trips. I’d use my commuter car for all other driving needs. I live in Los Angeles and would just be driving it all ovein Los Angeles county.
I would like for it to last 2-3 years during this transitionary phase in my business, before I can upgrade to a sprinter van.
I’d be transporting around 500-600lbs of cargo inside the vehicle. I have no plans to tow anything with it.
Based on my needs/expectations and with what information I have so far… is $850 worth it to you?
Or should I wait for a better used deal. Much appreciated.
EDIT: It is the 2004 Chevrolet Suburban 1500 LT.

Originally posted by u/throwaway_lastname2 in AmItheAsshole on July 20, '22, updated March 14, '23
To avoid spoilers...
I had a request from u/readergirl132 to do a pink dolphin fact. Pink Dolphins are a fresh water species that thrive in the Amazon (South American) rivers and grow up to 8 ft long. While they are born gray, they get their pink color from scar tissue, after repeated tussles with other dolphins. For added fun, search up some pictures. They kind of look like a flying pig when they pop out of the water upside down ;)
Trigger Warning: Loss of a loved one
Mood Spolier: The update is sad
Original post
AITA for wanting my child to have my last name?
I (36m) and my wife (36f) have been together for 9 years and married for 7. Recently after many years of trying we are expecting the birth of a son in November (I know sometimes ultrasounds get it wrong but we are prepping for a boy). We couldn't be happier.
When we were dating we reached 3 months and we had one of those long discussions about the future, expectations and deal breakers.
One of the deal breakers for her was she did not want to live in the city and if married she would keep her last name. At the time I lived in an apartment in the city center but one of my deal breakers was I would want a partner to take my last name. I know the concept of the wife taking my last name is outdated but I love my last name and I loved the idea of passing it down to our kids (also I know my kids could change it if they wanted). I thought about it for a while and agreed only if our kids could have my last name though. As this was only a general discussion she agreed in principal and we moved on to the next topic.
Two months latter we agreed to move in together. Before looking for rentals I wanted to reiterate my feelings on the last name and chat as I would have to sell my apartment. We sat down and agreed to all the things that we discussed in the previous months. Now the last name of our child was the only thing I had not compromised on and it was so important to me that I got a scrap piece of paper (my niece had drawn a picture on the back) and got her to write down she agreed, date and sign it. I know it would not be legal it was more a symbolic gesture to show how important it was to me and I was serious.
Flash to now and we are choosing baby names and she vetoed one of my names because she said it didn't go with her last name. I was like what... we agreed that he would have my last name. She said she thought about it and thought that they should have her last name because she liked it, wanted to pass it down, and I should now change my last name to hers. I bought up the fact that this was discussed and agreed to before we moved in and that this was one thing I had been talking about from the start and I had compromised on her last name among other things. She said its outdated thinking which I agree, and she didn't want there to be confusion at things like school.
I retrieved the original fake contract in my memory box and showed her. She then said it means nothing and things change. There was no yelling I just left the house went to work (its after hours/ night atm). AITA for standing my ground on this issue? I'm not going to leave her because its not worth throwing away a 8 year relationship but I feel betrayed on a level I have never felt and am truly upset. She has messaged me and said I can come back when I've stopped being stupid.
I may be the asshole as I came up with the idea of this "contract" and my views on passing on my last name could be seen as outdated, as my kids could change it or get married themselves.
Top comments suggest a hyphenated last name. Several people took issue with her 'You can come home when you stop being stupid' comment. Most said NTA because OOP was not motivated by sexism or outdated values, they had already discussed how important this is to him, and she had agreed.
OOP updates in the comments:
[UPDATE 1]
Hi all, thanks for all the comments I am reading them all. I am still hiding out at work and told her I wont be back tonight. She said don't go to any friends and family as they don't need to know that we are fighting let alone what we are fighting about. I need some time to collect my thoughts so will sleep in the car in the work garage.
Thought I would clarify a few things:
I am defiantly not going to leave her. The betrayal hurts though and the way it was delivered was very blunt as it could have been bought up anytime over the last 8-9 years.
The contract was very informal although it is oddly specific and well written (she wrote it), it was more of a symbolic gesture to show her I was serious. I was going to throw it out but decided to keep it while cleaning up as it had a few notes she put on it about our future plans. It says:
"I GF of Address on the DD/MM/YY, being of sound mind and judgement relinquish all rights in choosing the surname of any and all children I bear with OP of Address. The before mentioned children will have the last name LAST_NAME. Signed GF"
As for other compromises, its not a competition so I don't want to go into those however moving out of the city was a big one, and there have been a few friends lost along the way. Ultimately seeing her happy is what I want.
My last name is important to me because of its history. I know you can be called something else and still have this connection, but to me seeing the name has always filled me with pride about my families past.
We talked about double-barrelled surname all those years ago and she ruled it out because our names do not join well (same first letter and last letter).
There was no yelling but things were getting heated so I decided to leave as not to escalate. As for "stupid" message she gets like that during arguments, but this time it hurt as I don't see this topic as stupid nor are my feelings.
[UPDATE 2]
Hi Everyone thankyou everyone for your comments no matter the judgement, and thankyou to everyone that reached out to me through messaging.
Firstly I was very happy in the car as it is a large 4wd that we have set up for weekend trips so it is very well suited to a good nights sleep. By the time I realised I had to sleep it was too late to contact anyone for a place to crash. The garage is not a large parking structure but an a 4 car garage as most of the parking is outdoors. So not the cold parking structure and sleeping on the back seat as people were probably thinking. Sorry I should have clarified.
As for this being a deal breaker issue at the time when we were first dating it was defiantly something that would have caused me to break off the relationship at that time. At the time I realised it was stupid of me to expect her to change her name if she wanted to keep it for same reasons as me, but I thought I could deal for the last name of our child.
I think 9 years of build-up and expectations came crashing down in that moment which caused me spiral. I am still not sure what the bigger issue is though, is it the re-neg on the deal, the way she handled it or the actual last name?
I received a message this morning asking me to come home so we can chat, so with some hesitancy I decided to go home and talk. I don't like chatting through messenger or text as you loose the ability to gauge the in the moment reaction.
So to cut a long story short and give you an anti climatic ending, she apologised for dropping the bomb on me. She said I had been carrying on soo long about the last name she did not know how to tell me and in the moment she chose to blurt it out. Apparently she has been thinking about it ever since she fell pregnant and always thought she would keep to the deal but being pregnant made her change her mind. We have allot of talking to do but in the mean time I am going to sleep in the spare room until this issues (plural) are sorted.
Will keep people updated as it has been helpful to read comments and put my thoughts somewhere. Thanks
OOP was declared Not The Asshole
Update 8 months later
I am going to give an abridged version, forgive me if it comes of unemotional & cold. Some may say I haven't dealt with all the turmoil emotionally and they would be right, I haven't had the time, its been moving from one crisis to another.
A week before her due date we were going to dinner with my work bosses. We decided to meet there; I caught an taxi from work & she was driving to the restaurant from home. On the way she was hit in the drivers side of the car by someone running a red light. In the ECU the Doctor made the choice to deliver the baby via emergency C-section in order to properly deal with her injuries. Later that night the decision was made to place her in a medical comma. The Baby was perfect but unfortunately, she passed away the next day from a brain haemorrhage. I was devastated of course but I haven't had the time for the luxury of grieving since the incident. My son needed me!
Baby was able to leave the hospital 3 days later & we both came home to an empty house. Everything was ready at home but I cant say it was easy. My family is pretty emotionally stunted so there was limited help from there and my wife was estranged from her family, so it was basically me and him. For those wondering he actually left hospital with no name as you have ~60 days to name a baby in Aus.
Before we get into the next bit a long story short my wife was estranged from her parents, they were abusive (Physically & mententally). She had not talked to them in 10+ yrs and they were not at our wedding. I have never met them but I am able to recognise them via photos.
After about 2 weeks of planning we had the funeral for my wife, I kept it simple and it was not a big event. At the funeral I saw her parents file into the room at the back. I should have thrown them out but instead I took pity and I had the usher put them in a side room with a live feed. After the funeral they waited in the line of well wishers. When they got to me I said I was sorry they lost a daughter and it must be hard. They weren't even worried about that, instead they began asking questions about the baby. I answered a couple and then asked my sister to take my son away to another room as I was beginning to get some weird vibes. While my sister was walking away they began to get irate demanding access to the baby. Fortunately friends and ushers were able to remove them without further incident and they left the venue.
I stayed in a hotel that night as I didn't want to return to the house after the funeral. The next day returning home they were there waiting. I managed to park in the garage & after putting baby down in his room I spoke to them through the security door. Long story short they once again demanded access to the baby. They said given the "circumstances" it would be best if they raised him now, they then told me they were going to sue for custody & left. Over the coming days they approached me at home and in public several times and while they weren't violent they gave me a feeling of total dread every time I talked to them. They wanted to take my son.
My wife always made it clear to me she never wanted them to meet the baby, on any circumstances, given her childhood. Honestly I wrestled with just letting them see him in a supervised capacity but in the end I decided to follow her wishes so I spoke to my lawyer over the next days. She said they had a good chance of some visitation as they were now the only connection to her family. Australian courts believe it is best for a child's sense of identity to know all parts of their family and it falls under grandparents rights as well. I asked about their past abuses against my wife but these could not be proved thus could not be used in court. One way to get around it though is to move far away as a a judge would not enforce visitation between states.
So acting on this information and I think also the need for a new start, I put the house up for rent, transferred by job to the office across the country, piled all our stuff into a sea container and left. The house was rented out after the first home open due to the rental crisis. I decided to dive across the country and it honestly allowed me to get my head right. I still haven't dealt with the loss properly but I can say the trip allowed me to be alone with my thoughts and appreciate my new boy. For now we have been staying in a motel apartment & will be moving into a rental house soon. Once there our stuff will be delivered & we can get settled. I haven't started work yet as I had long service leave for when the baby arrived, and I will be interviewing live in au pairs over the coming days.
So as for the name: In my original post my wife had gone back on a agreement to give the baby my last name. To solve the stalemate we were in I agreed to give him her last name, I didn't really have a choice as its her decision anyway legally. So after she passed I wrestled with this decision for weeks but in the end I decided to give my son my last name. I did this for a number of reasons including it was the original agreement, her parents were horrible and I wanted my life to be simple moving forwards instead of having to explain why we have different last names.
So for the other names the first name it was a DS9 character, and my wife's grandfather as a middle name (she loved him). My wife and I chose these 2 names together.
I know we have a long road ahead and I have therapy booked for next month but I feel like I am slowly making a little progress. I have a few friends in the new city so I am not totally alone here but my son is my focus now and I will treasure him every day.
Any advice/ comments would be good to read as I haven't had much time or anyone to tell this to.
If you'd like to leave advice for OOP, please do so in the comments here. I will let him know I have shared his posts here
I feel compelled to add, we have some Australians in the comments saying that this is not the way the law works there.
Reminder, DO NOT comment on the original posts or contact the original poster. I am not the original poster. This is a repost.

​

Synchronicity, Prolepsis, and the Kali Yuga

I've never been big on spiritual beliefs but one thing I do hold to is that there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, Anna sells her soul and then this happens. It's no coincidence. and I often find some of the most inexplicable events happening to me. Such as finding my partner the very next day after this happened. Of all people.
I already said what's going to happen, I've always had a knack for telling the future. Although this is a bit different. Typically I try to keep things to myself. I don't believe in manifestation, but you can never be too careful about retrocausality. Even knowing how things will turn out doesn't change what I want to happen. It doesn't get rid of the hope that I can change things for a different outcome. But now I know the truth is fatalism. All the signs are there for me. I was born to do this.
Oikeosis is under attack. Appropriation of the human soul itself has been appropriated by multiconglomerate entities. Everything is so self interested nowadays that any semblance of 'good' has been lost. There is nothing good left in this world. Our society is deeply evil. Even the institutions that traditionally were right and virtuous have been spoiled. Education teaches us lies about people and about history. Charity is all around a source of embezzlement.
We rape the earth for her resources and still want more. The function of capitalism is infinite growth on a finite planet. An equation begging to rip itself apart. Alienation runs rampant, from our careers and relationships, law and money, down to where our food comes from and how our transportation works. I believe the bank of souls has ran dry and most people are born without souls. They do not think for themselves, they do not seek anything other than base animalistic desires. Anything that contests their pre-programmed worldview given to them by school and the media can't even be considered. This is why they are so easy to control. There is no place for eudaimonia in a world completely paved over with concrete, walked by people who never look up and say more than the automatic pleasantry to each other.
I can see the future, my life will amount to no more than a drop. In another reality maybe eventually we could gather an ocean from these drops. But the fires of Armageddon already rage on and drops just evaporate in the flames.

I'm Made of Cold Stone, Just Like Your Prison Walls

So how has life been? Everything is fucked, I'm ready to just blow my brains out. I'm just waiting for them to dare me and if they don't I can't keep this up much longer anyway.
Everyone wants to 'help me'. They don't want to help me. They want to say I'm the problem. Because they could never be, of course...
My psych just wants to sedate me. Doctor just wants to keep me locked up, but that would never last. Anger Management agrees with everything I say and suggests I just lie down and take it. No one is telling me I'm wrong. Then why can't anyone fix this.....
I knew since the beginning that I was just biding time. There was never any escape from this. And what would be the point in going on anyway. Even zooming out from my personal problems. This world is fucked. I don't want to be here. Public enemy #1, they can come kill me whenever they want. There's nothing left here for me except to take the walls down with me.

My biggest fan, now my biggest critic. I told you leaving it alone wouldn't help you any.

One worldview says: Coca-Cola is the product. I am the buyer. The grocery store is the seller. Another worldview says: The media is the seller. Coca-Cola is the buyer. I am the product.
It’s a vicious cycle. I think a lot about these things. I spent countless nights and days trying to figure everything out. Almost as if it’s my job. With everything that’s going on and all the variables that are involved, the World will continue on its path of destruction. No person, no group of people, no book, not even a documentary will stimulate any kind of action from the masses. I hate hearing people say that people need to “wake” up. Like seriously everybody knows what’s going on in the World. We might not know the exact details of their doings but it’s in our nature to be curious. Everybody knows what’s going on. We just can't do anything about it. The programming was successful. Their system is basically bulletproof. The pawns run the show and get the fame and blame but the real shot-callers remain hidden and unknown. The reason for this Global brain fart that the population of this world is that most people refuse to understand that this is a spiritual battle just as much as a physical one. They are scheming behind closed doors day and night trying to find different ways to enslave us further. At the same time, we run around like chickens trying to live without taking responsibility for the selfish and entertainment-oriented trajectory that the world is going in. BUY. CONSUME. OBEY. CONFORM.

Fuck The Police, but not like my cunt ex fiance does

I have no intention of ever letting a cop ever come within spitting distance of me again. I am fully ready to die. And as I said at one point. I've found the power to act even from the grave indefinitely anyways.
I'm playing by my own rules. Justice prevails or it dies trying. You don't get to make up wildly false one sided stories with absolutely no evidence and ruin my life without consequence.
I have half a mind to stop complying with this circus theatre they call a court and have them come at me. Honestly, it legit might not even be a choice because they've fucked me over so bad. I literally won't be able to do it.
I've never really wanted to kill myself. It's just the only escape. The freedom they can never take from me. I don't want to hurt people. I'm just acting in self defense, and cops aren't people. They gave up their humanity when they sold their soul to the state.

So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

I think this is finally it. She let me go, and now I can end it all without worrying about her.
All I have left in the world is material possessions. Mom brought all my stuff down from back home. I surmise that she knew she was in the wrong and had to make herself feel less guilty. I never really cared about stuff. I've lost so much stuff. I just wanted the people to stay... Now I gotta hastily figure out what I'm doing with this shit. It's not fair to leave it all with the roommates.
They've ruined my entire life, I don't even remember what happiness really felt like. Contentment. Hope for the future. I live in a constant state of paranoia, traumatized by what they've done to me, and unable to function even to keep myself together.
It's not just a breakup. I was handling the breakup just fine. It was when she came back assaulted me, played victim, and crushed me into the dust with the help of the state. Oh but I need to let it go. I need to forgive them. Why am I reacting so horribly?.. I hate you people. The reason Natasha is still on my shitlist 7 years later is that it still gets brought up. And it's not me who brings it up, and it's hindered my life. I'm reminded of it every time I see the scar on my eyebrow in the mirror... I bet it never gets brought up for her. Oh how easy it must be, that's why they needed to play the victim and not emotionally abusive cheating life ruiner. I bet they'll even pretend they're 'traumatized'. Ha, what a joke.
*shrug shoulders* "Yeah that must suck, I feel for you, system is corrupt, now pay another $100"
I could start ending them with the flip of switch and no one could honestly call it anything but justice.
Walk in and just ruin a relationship on the spot and label someone a criminal without any evidence. Nobody asked them to do that. They had to subpoena her into court. I could forgive those bitches if they hadn't shut me down as if this was all they ever wanted. But I could never forgive the piece of shit government and its negligent damage to my life. You might hear later what I had been pondering for them. 'Never forget' levels of damage to the country... I think just releasing that video could be enough to make them store that shit somewhere else. I just want to quit though. A year of prep is a year of suffering and we'll all be dust soon anyway.
And the other false accusations I've had to fight... Cops never arrested anyone for a crime against ME. Even when I lock myself in a room and call them I end up getting arrested. How bout that... How the fuck could I ever respect a badge after what I've been through? It's literally the flag of the enemy. Anna knew about all of it, that's why it was so easy for her.
My career is pretty much over, My life is permanently disabled, My psyche is perpetually fucked. And they just get to blame me, act like it's deserved, as if I made the first slight. This is rock bottom. I can't cry anymore, I don't even feel sad. The colour has come back to the world. That's why I know it's time for final goodbyes. Another day in the life and I can't take it anymore.
Love you all, take care of yourselves. Vids on the 1st.
Peace.

Attempt 4, 5, and Plan B

Going out quietly didn't work, I tried twice. The gas chamber just takes too long I guess. I ended up getting myself Baker acted. The same cop who started all of this is the one who brought me to the hospital. I know where to find him...
I never told anyone about Attempt 1 and 3. The problem with all this is wanting to go out peacefully. I've already experienced so much pain and suffering and mental torment... I can handle whatever it takes for this to be over. And yes Anna, 3 happened when you were playing with me early on.
I truly have nothing left. I'm going to make sure I die this time.
You can only kick a dog so many times before it bites back. I never wanted any of this I wish things could go back to being good. I miss happy... having future plans. I just want to stop suffering and make sure this never happens again. Why is it so hard to just go quietly? Why can't I just have a normal life?
Even the Doctor agreed with everything I said. The same Doc from my accidental OD a month ago. Medication won't help this. Therapy won't help this. Keeping me locked up was only making it worse. I'm just fucked. Rock bottom.
My dreams have become less traumatic and feel more like my life flashing before my eyes. Everyone is there, reliving the good moments, bad moments. I've been sleeping more than I've been awake the last week and I'm still tired. Just sitting in Hell's waiting room.

Half God, Half Devil

When you do monstrous things to a person, you turn them into a monster. Studies have confirmed this on various levels. People who suffer child abuse and sexual abuse are more likely to end up abusers themselves. Most of the people who have done terrible things aren't just crazy. In fact some of the biggest most memorable events are not the work of some common psychopath, but of highly intelligent people pushed too far.
I feel like I'm out of a loop. Is she still trying to minimize things for me I wonder. I would repay the favor if I knew. I think my report speaks for itself. Perhaps I'm gaining some notoriety here. Make a Deputy stop dead in his tracks. Make an officer say he doesn't want to escalate things, just clearing the park. I don't even need to act 'belligerent'. Cool and collected is more concerning. Maybe they know being in spitting distance there's a chance they will get spit on. Remember, I'm not the one knocking on YOUR door.
I don't think there's any saving me. I don't deserve this life they've left me. I know something here has got to give.
I miss being able to call myself a good person. Giving strangers rides, taking people in, doing altruistic deeds... Caring about the environment, caring about the struggle, and warring evil with reason... I miss family, and love that would go to the ends of the earth... Being a intellectual, being a potential mover for society...
But this is all I'm left with. A blog on reddit. And being a twitch away from death.

I Hate This

I suppose I should write an update about how things are going.
Nothing has been deleted really. I've backed up everything to several different places and given access to someone I trust. I haven't actually posted any of that. I was in the hospital at the time. I really thought she would send the kill squad for that for a while.
Anna may not know it but she got her white women trial against me. "Did you threaten a government building?" Result... nothing significant. Btw the answer is no, I had planned to gas myself.
I have the desire to die and haven't been able to do it. I guess at a certain level I've been antagonizing the man to come get me, make it easy. But they still haven't come and my condition has continued to deteriorate.
I know she'll never sit down with me like Natasha did. And my mom can't go 2 seconds without accusing me and shrugging off responsibility. All my backup resources and all my support, gone in a flash. Never to return. I am truly alone besides my psychopathic friend I've come to rely on.
I've been in some shit situations and this is still the worst experience I've ever had. And it just doesn't end. They left me here, and they'll blame me for the consequences.
I know I can make the man kill me. Twice I've been a twitch away from death. And twice I've had everything ready to exit the car and enter the building. They keep tabs on me. I keep a list of where the judge lives, the prosecutor, the cops, and her... Ah but see it's 'crazy' when I do it. It's 'crazy' to find out where your enemies sleep when they harass you with the knowledge they have about you. It's not crazy for them to stalk me in the cul-de-sac... Stalk me at work... I've actually seen her a couple times. I've seen my dog too... I miss Cleo. The dog hairs are still everywhere...
I guess I'm still holding onto some hope that things could get better. But logically I know there is no fixing this. It just gets worse. It only gets worse...
Either I hold out for something big. Or settle for what's already certain. Or maybe something will come save me... Wishful thinking I'm sure.
Maybe I can just shoot myself. I don't want this. and I don't want to die. But those are the only two options.
I often find myself thinking about things... I think I've relived my whole life in the last several months. I miss the freedom I had as a kid. I miss the love I felt as a teenager. The drive I had gained after my attempt. I miss the progress I had made on my career and mental health before this happened...
Now, as I said, all that makes me get out of bed and not go postal yet is pure spite and the knowledge that I can do so much more damage if I hold out just one more day, week, month, year... It's been holding true so far. I would scare my past self, and he's no softie.
When does this end. When do I get to return to normal? Never? Fine... They can only blame themselves.
I know they'll never hold her accountable for what she did. But at least I can stop taking the punishment for things I never did. And send a message while I'm at it...
"I don't want to talk to you right now" Just like her to say that and then never talk to me again... Don't want to talk to me because she lead me on and used me like a stepping stone before turning around and crushing everything I had going...
It never leaves my mind. The state is my enemy. And I have no other choices left.

"The criminal is the creative artist; the detective only the critic." -G.K. Chesterton
+++
The moon setting in the west marked the end of another day for the folk in the city of Duskwall, and Monty was glad to be out on one of his evening walks.
He had all he needed for such an activity; the discreetly-armored clothes on his back, the trusty knife and pistol on his belt, and the wits in his head. His walk took him from the industrial district of Coalridge where machines belched smoke and noise and workers labored to keep the Imperium's production needs met, to the many-hued vice dens of Silkshore where any imaginable pleasure or illicit product could be found if one knew how to look and who to ask. From the views of the Spark Wall that kept out the legions of ghosts from the Deathlands, to the park that was lit with trees than glowed with light both eerie and comforting. He saw many people on his wanderings that night; a Bluecoat patrol he had narrowly escaped, a thief he knew well and claimed several favors from, a crew of Railjacks that had helped him with smuggling operations on the trains in days not long past, and many others, for he was a well-connected man with a finger in many pies and an ear to many grounds.
As he wandered, he thought, for he found it claiming and focusing to walk through the city, following no path and pursuing no errand. The Crows had collapsed, following one daring heist too many, and had cast the Crow's Foot, the city's most crime-ridden district, into war as the scavengers convened to pick up the pieces and fill the power vacuum. The Crows had been the uncrowned kings and queens of the city's underworld, which meant in the end that they fell with the force of a dying leviathan, tearing asunder the web of grudges and favors they had woven and throwing the city's underworld into chaos.
Monty knew he had a responsibility to his own crew, and he intended to make something of them out of all this. They had been getting by, starting from the bottom, subsisting on the crumbs and scraps that fell their way when the big players were done with the feast of the day. But with the old powers fallen, the field had been leveled and untold hordes of wealth and power were up for grabs. Monty planned to see that his crew prospered, for they were his friends, his comrades, his dear confidants for whom he would match through fire and lay down life and limb.
As the night grew from young to full, Monty had gotten his thoughts in order, and walked back to his crew's lair. It wasn't much, but it serves them well enough, and if Monty had his way, it would be expanded before the year was out. He stopped to get some chicken and greens, wanting to treat the crew with something more than simple eel pie and rice portage. When he got to the crew's lair, he gladly took up his role as the cook, and began making dinner, chatting all the while and enjoying the company of friends.
When dinner was served, goat cheesecake was in the oven, and beer was being poured, Monty looked at all the crew with his trademark grin; the one that said he had a plan and something very worth noting was about to happen.
"Boys and girls, Crow's Foot's gone to shit and back, things are starting to heat up all across the city, and if you're all with me, we're gonna use all that to take our place as top dogs and be living like kings by this time next year."
He leaned back in his seat, and raised a glass of Skovland beer that tasted like mulling spices and the far-off promise of victory."
"But first, a toast, to the beginning of something big."
+++
Hi there! Thanks for reading :D
I find myself driven, as of late, to indulge my love for the Blades in the Dark TTRPG and for written roleplay, so why not do both at the same time? Two good things at the same time are usually guaranteed to be even more gooder, except well-mixed cocktails and life-saving surgery, but my point stands in general.
I'd like to do a story of a small, low-down criminal gang rising in the ranks of the underworld in the Victorian, gothic-steampunk/dieselpunk, occultish city of Duskwall. The setting is rich and there's a lot of detail to go into, so it's impossible to give a truly comprehensive pitch while keeping it simple, but if I had to summarize this setting in three sentences, it would be as follows:
"The sun vanished from the sky a thousand years ago, alongside the Gates of Death shattering and allowing ghosts and occult magic into the world. The city is a mashup of London, Paris, and Venice, in roughly Victorian times with a hefty helping of steampunk/dieselpunk/electropunk technology al-la Dishonored meets The Order 1886. The city is home to a lot of criminals, with a thriving, complex underworld that has recently been thrown into chaos due to the toppling of its most powerful gang, and in which our characters will take part."
If that setting intrigues you, then I'd be happy to explain more! Also, no knowledge of the setting is needed, I plan to play a character in the gang who is knowledgeable about the setting and its people so I can be a guide both in the story and out. My basic plan is that we'd each plan a few characters in the gang, as well as create the gang itself together.
If anyone is curious, I'm male, 24 years of age, and from the EST time zone. I've been roleplaying for about half my life and playing Shadowrun for 6 or 7 years, so while I'm not a grandmaster of either, I think I know enough about both to create an awesome story with someone who wants to work with me. I'd be happy to send a writing sample to anyone who wants to verify that for themselves. I can usually crack off at least a few posts a week; I try to go for one or more a day as much as I can, with moderate success since my job is taxing and I sometimes don't have the energy to write much. But I'll always do my best to keep up, since this is one of my favorite hobbies and I love this setting a hell of a lot. I can generally put two or three good-sized paragraphs in my post, sometimes more depending on what's going on. I'd also like my partner to be interested in planning out the story from the start, since this is your story too if you decide to play it out with me.
I'd ideally like somebody who can match my average of 2 or 3 paragraphs, who is 20 or over, who writes in 3rd person, and who communicates openly; otherwise, I'm open to writing with anybody I vibe with, :). Come one come all; if you're interested in this prompt (and please include the word "Machiavellian" in your message to let me know you read it all), then I'm interested in talking more with you about it. I can't address every detail or question someone might have in this post, so if you have any questions or comments, PM me here and I'll be glad to answer them.
I hope to hear from you soon! :D

First Entry
Second Entry
Third Entry
Fourth Entry ​
Fifth Entry
​
Journal of Camille Lambert - April 12th
​
We could see the shadows of the Nightwalkers from our place by the bonfire. They peeked in through the broken windows of the church, watching us from afar but never actually entering the ruins. I’m not sure if the firelight was what kept them away, or the protective runes that Nina had drawn.
​
Nina sat on a fallen column, watching them in case they tried anything… and yet if I walked over to the right side of the circle of columns that we’d set up our bonfire in, she seemed… dimmer. Like she was there and yet not there at the same time.
​
Dom on the other hand was crystal clear. I could see him sitting by the door of the church. I couldn’t see him at all from the left side of the circle. The mist was too thick. But on the right side, he was right there, impossible to miss. The effect was surreal, to say the least. He was holding the device Nina had used to call in her backup. She’d called it a phone but it didn’t look like any phone I’d ever seen.
​
“ETA, an hour or so for the standby team in Tallinn, 15 hours for the rest,” Nina had said after she’d made her call. “Let’s get comfortable.”
I figured that it’d been about an hour and a half since she’d said that. Standing by the bonfire itself, the world past the columns seemed to be in flux. Sometimes I could see mist through the windows and the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes I could see stars.
​
Shadows of smaller Nightwalkers darted past the church door sometimes, lingering only long enough to look in on us before retreating back into the darkness. Nina watched each one like a hawk, gripping her shotgun tightly.
I walked out to sit with her for a bit, leaving the light of the fire for a little while. Even from her vantage point, I still couldn’t see Dom but at least I knew he was safe enough.
“How many do you think are out there?” I asked quietly.
“Too many,” Nina replied. “We’re not going back to Puriysk tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
​
As she spoke, I saw more shadows moving in the dark, skittering away into the mist.
“You sure you want to stay out here? Might be safer to stay with Dom,” I said.
“Probably, but it’s better if I stay here. If the door closes, I’m better off on the inside. Be easier to open it again, that way.”
“Fair enough,” I said, looking back out into the mist. I could see nothing past it.
​
No shadows. No movement. There wasn’t even any noise. Nina looked up at the darkness again.
“Is it just me or is it quieter out there?” She asked.
“No… it’s quieter out there,” I said. “Could be there’s a big one nearby. Dom said that the small ones usually avoid them.”
​
Nina kept staring out at the mist, but the silence remained. I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely worried or not. After a few minutes, I saw movement in the mist again. I heard the rustling of trees and saw something standing in the dark. I almost thought that it might have looked like a man… almost. But I couldn’t fully make out the shape of it.
​
I could see the eyes of the Nightwalker shining in the firelight, before it finally moved, darting out of sight. Nina watched it go, before returning her attention to me.
“Good news is, we won’t be alone for that much longer,” She said. “After the first group shows up, we can head into Puriysk with them and start setting up shop. By the time the rest of them arrive, we should be in a good place. After that, it’s just a matter of getting people out and dealing with Calhoun,”
“You make it sound easy,” I said.
“I mean, it probably won’t be a walk in the park,” Nina admitted. “But at least we won’t be running this job alone. These things go easier when you’ve got help.”
“Yeah… I imagine they would,” I said.
​
Beside us, I heard a dull thud as a piece of one of the church's more damaged walls fell away and crashed to the ground. Nina was up on her feet immediately, shotgun in hand. I rose to my feet beside her.
“The fuck was that?” She asked.
“Part of the wall, I think,” I said. I spotted the spot where it had fallen and looked up. It had probably come off one of the broken domed towers near the door. One of their ceilings had come down ages ago and I imagined it wouldn’t take much more than a strong gust of wind to knock over some of the loose bricks jutting out from where the roof remained. Nina approached the fallen piece of brick, pausing to inspect it.
​
“Hell of a big chunk of wall,” She said before looking up again. I did the same, although as I did, I could’ve sworn I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at it. The shadows cast by the bonfire left pools of darkness along the ceiling.
​
But in those pools, I could see flickering reflections of light.
​
Two of them.
​
Staring right at me.
​
Slowly I reached out, putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder. I didn’t want to yell or move too quickly. I couldn’t see what was in the darkness but I know that it looked poised to strike. Nina looked over at me, before tensing up. I knew that she saw it too. The eyes remained trained on us, and I heard a low, animal hiss coming from the shadows.
“Bonfire…” Nina said, gripping her shotgun tighter “Get Dom… now.”
​
I took a step back and saw the eyes following me. Nina backed away from the shadows, eyes never leaving the ceiling. I saw limbs splaying outward from the darkness. I could see them tensing up. It was going to lunge.
​
“MOVE!” I said, breaking into a sprint, but it was too late. The Nightwalker launched itself at Nina like a bullet. I heard her shotgun fire twice, before the creature crashed into the ground, flailing violently. I could see long, dark limbs, more than any human should have struggling to pick itself up. I could see a body that only vaguely resembled a man. It had a torso, a human head, and long black hair, but looked more like a spider than a person. And yet there was something off about it. Something I hadn’t seen on any of the other Nightwalkers. This one had some kind of sigil on its forehead. Something that looked almost like a crimson eye, that seemed to glow with surreal energy.
​
The Nightwalker looked at Nina, snarling at her. When it opened its mouth, I could see rows upon rows of teeth inside. She fired her shotgun again, but the creature barely even seemed to notice them. Even after she’d gone through the trouble of cursing them, her rounds weren’t doing anything.
“RUN!” I heard her yell, and I didn’t dare question that. I just ran.
​
I sprinted toward the bonfire, just in time to see Dom running toward me. He took aim at the Nightwalker, firing at it as it tried to go after Nina. But his bullets did next to nothing to it. The Nightwalker didn’t even look at him.
​
It just kept going for Nina, almost pinning her down. She unloaded two more shells into its face, which did little more than make it flinch and bought her some time to run.
​
This time, she took off at a sprint toward the bonfire. Dom saw her running and started to backpedal as well, running back toward the bonfire and the safety of the columns. The creature paused as we took shelter by the fire, watching us intently and letting out another serpentine hiss. Nina stared back at it, before looking back at the fire. She tossed her shotgun aside and hastily grabbed one of the spare branches we’d kept for the bonfire. She put it in the fire, before pulling it out and brandishing it like a weapon. The Nightwalker hissed and recoiled a bit, focused on the flame. As it paused, Dom grabbed Nina’s shotgun off the ground and took aim.
​
“Don’t…” She said, putting a hand up to stop him, her voice low and intense. She didn’t dare look away from the Nightwalker. “Save the cursed rounds… they won’t kill it. Just get outside.”
“What about you?” Dom asked.
“Outside,” Nina repeated. “Now.”
I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!” I said, trying to tug him along behind me.
​
He hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting me take him. We backed through the right set of columns, and once we were through I saw Nina taking a step away from the bonfire, toward the right set of columns. The Nightwalker passed the left set of columns, trying to follow her.
“Come on…” She said under her breath, “Come and get me, shithead…”
​
I saw it inching closer to her, and tensing up again, getting ready to pounce. That was when Nina made her move. She thrust her burning branch into the Nightwalker's face, earning a cry of pain from it and making it jerk back. I saw it swatting at the branch, trying to get rid of the fire. Nina took the chance to run, sprinting at top speed toward the door of the church.
“GO!”
​
Neither of us needed to be told twice. We ran for the church door, as the Nightwalker let out a roar from behind us. I looked back to see it charging toward us again, gaining ground. As we ran back out into the field, we were greeted by countless blinding lights. I saw Nina pause, before feeling her grab me by the back of the shirt and pull me away. I could see Dom in her other hand. She dragged us both down to the ground in the instant before the Nightwalker emerged from the door of the church.
​
I saw it recoil, putting up its clawed hands to try and shield its eyes from the blinding light.
​
Then I heard the gunfire.
​
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see several men, each holding automatic rifles advancing on the Nightwalker. It shrank back toward the church, trying to shield itself from the gunfire, clearly overwhelmed. But just like with Nina’s shotgun before it, the bullets did little to harm it. Despite all the gunfire it took, it didn’t fall. I could hear it hissing, I could see its beady black eyes darting around wildly. It lunged forward again, tackling one of the nearby men and tearing into him, before going after another. I saw its jaws close around his skull and heard the sickening crunch of bone as it took his head. The other men scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Nightwalker as they could. It howled in rage, preparing to charge after them when a final, deafening gunshot echoed through the night.
​
This time, the Nightwalker's entire body seized up. It let out an agonized scream. I could see its clawed hands clutching at a wound that had appeared on its chest… and I could see smoke rising out of that wound. It kept screaming and thrashing violently. Its limbs gave out from underneath it. I could see the wound in its chest sizzling and burning. I saw the flesh and skin sloughing off of its body, and I could see the pale white bone underneath.
​
The eye sigil on its forehead flickered before fading away and the Nightwalker let out one final, howl before collapsing to the ground, its body still twitching and convulsing. I looked over to see a single woman standing calmly by the nearby trucks. She was tall and pale, with long, stringy black hair and an intense look in her eye.
​
She was dressed in a long beige coat and holding an ornate revolver in one gloved hand. As the Nightwalker died I saw her gingerly slip the pistol into the inner pocket of her coat before reaching into another pocket for a notebook. Without ever looking away from the dead Nightwalker, she scribbled something down, then pocketed the notebook again and calmly walked toward the church, not even pausing to acknowledge anyone else around her. As she left, I saw the other armed men tending to their dead. With the Nightwalker dead, I could get a better look at them now. They were dressed like soldiers, with bulletproof vests and no shortage of pockets. A few of them wore netted veils over their faces, making it hard to get a good look at them and giving them an eerie appearance, although watching them examine the bodies of their dead and respectfully carrying them away was almost humanizing.
​
Nina sat up, her blonde hair messy and a somewhat disoriented look on her face. She looked over toward the source of the lights that had blinded us. Four large SUVs were parked outside of the church, their headlights shining on the door. From those SUVs, I could see more armed men getting out and one of them was coming toward us.
​
“Nina Valentine?” I heard him ask. He had a heavy Slavic accent.
“Still alive,” She said, as she slowly climbed to her feet.
“Good. I’m Olev Kallas, I’m from the Tallinn Office, Director Durand sends his regards,” He offered Nina a hand to shake and she reluctantly took it. “The Director is currently en route, as are the rest of the team. In the meanwhile, we’re here to help.”
“Yeah and right on fucking time too,” She said, looking over at the dead Nightwalker.
​
“Ah… yes, you can thank Dr. Di Cesare for that,” Kallas said.
Nina raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she recognized the name, but she didn’t comment on it.
“But first, I imagine you and your friends must need a hot meal and a cold drink right about now and I can get you both.”
“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea…” Nina said, as Dom helped me to my feet. She waited until we were up, before gesturing for us to follow as Kallas led us toward one of the SUV’s.
​
***
​
I barely recognized the empty field around us as Puriysk. The buildings were all long gone and in their place was a paved highway that I’d never seen before.
“The town’s been gone for as long as I can remember,” Kallas said. “I couldn’t tell you if it was us, or the Soviets who got rid of the ruins. I read somewhere that there was some talk about refurbishing the old Church, but as you see, nothing ever came of it.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” Nina said, “Made my job a hell of a lot easier.”
​
We drove down the highway, past the wide open landscape and as we drove, I couldn’t help but admire it. In the distance, I could see the lights from another nearby town and watched as they drew closer and closer. God, I’d never seen a place so full of life before. As we drove along the quiet streets, past the sleeping buildings in the early hours of the morning, they still seemed so alive. Street lights cast a warm glow on the few passersby out doing their business. There were more cars on the road than I’d ever seen before, some driving past us to their own destinations and others parked and still.
​
“I can drop you three off at a hotel if you’d like,” Kallas offered. “You can get cleaned up and have a short rest before Director Durand arrives. I can pick up some fresh clothes for you, and then we can have a debrief over dinner.”
“Yeah, works for me,” Nina said before looking over at us.
“Dinner sounds good,” I said, although at the time I had no idea what exactly a hotel was. Thankfully, I got my answer pretty quickly.
​
The room I got was comfortable. The bed was softer than anything I’d ever laid on before and the hot water… oh God… I spent almost an hour in the shower alone, enjoying the steam and feeling the tension drain out of my muscles. When I was done, I put on a soft, fluffy bathrobe and laid down, letting myself relax for the first time in days. I almost dozed off… and maybe I would have if I hadn’t heard a knock on my door.
​
I considered ignoring it and just letting sleep take me, but I figured I might as well make sure it wasn’t important. Tying my bathrobe a little tighter around me, I got up to answer the door and was greeted by Dom, still wet from the shower.
​
“Hey,” He said. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you!”
“It’s fine!” I replied, putting on a smile, “Come on in.”
I opened the door all the way to let him inside, but he hesitated.
“No, it’s alright. I just thought I’d check on you. It’s been… well, it’s been one hell of a past few days. And this feels like the first chance we’ve had to really breathe in a while.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I sighed. I still held the door open for him. “Well, we’re not going to have this conversation in the hall, so come on in. I’ve got a coffee machine in here and I’m dying to try it out.”
​
I’m not sure if it was the promise of coffee that made him accept my invitation or the realization that I probably didn’t want to be in the hall with just a bathrobe on, but he came inside anyway.I went to the coffee machine and tried to figure it out. They had these little cups that I’d never seen before, but otherwise, it seemed fairly straightforward.
​
“Man… it’s really something else out here, isn’t it?” Dom asked, going to sit down on the bed. “It’s just so bright out here!”
“I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming,” I admitted. I managed to get one of the cups into the coffee machine and watched as it pissed out a somewhat pathetic amount of scalding hot coffee that admittedly did smell very nice. It had a lovely vanilla aroma.
I brought the first cup over to Dom.
​
“Glad I’m not the only one,” He said as I went back to make another cup, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if Nina’s backup was even going to come through and I sure as hell didn’t expect any of this.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh, “Is it wrong to say that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
“Well, when something seems too good to be true…” Dom murmured, “Although then again… looking at what we had in there compared to what Nina’s been telling me about life out here, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve had it bad for so long that even the smallest good thing would seem too good to be true.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” I said.
“Maybe. But what if it’s true?”
​
I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Either way… this isn’t much more than a break, isn’t it?” Dom asked, “The calm before the storm. I know that after we talk to the Director, Nina’s going right back in… and I’m going with her.”
I nodded before taking my coffee and joining him on the bed.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m going with you.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?” Dom asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know that this kind of thing isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. I’m not saying to just let it be or anything, but there’s other ways to help that don’t involve shooting things and burning down buildings.”
​
Again, I paused.
“Maybe,” I said. “Honestly, whatever I can do, I just want to do it. Whatever it may be. I’ve been just accepting things the way they were for too long, the same as you. I don’t want to just accept it anymore! I can’t.”
“And you aren’t,” Dom said, “I mean… shit, I watched you take pot shots at a Nightwalker the other night. Ever since we left, you’ve done whatever you can to help out. You’ve done a hell of a lot more to fix things than anyone else I know. That takes a hell of a lot of strength. More than I’d probably have in your shoes… honestly, you’re half the reason I’m still doing this, Cam.”
​
I looked at him and felt his hand pressing over mine.
“Only half?” I teased, trying to distract from the shade I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Well, there’s everyone else too.” He said, “But right now, the one I care the most about is you.”
I actually broke down laughing at that and gently pushed him away.
“Too much?” He asked.
“No,” I said. “Just right.”
​
I let my head rest on his shoulder and for a little bit, we just sat together, hand in hand and beautifully content. I sensed him hesitating for a little while, before finally seizing the moment and placing his hand on my chin. I let him. He lifted my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that I all too happily reciprocated.
​
After all… who knew when we’d get another chance?
​
***
​
The restaurant that Kallas brought us to was fairly quiet, although it wasn’t empty. As we walked in, I could see a large table set out with faces both familiar and unfamiliar at it.
​
Nina had washed almost an entire layer of dirt and soot off her face. Her hair looked cleaner and she was clearly wearing new, cleaner jeans. Although I didn’t think she’d actually changed her T-shirt. I recognized it by the neckline, but I’d never seen the whole thing before. It had a graphic of a warning label on it that said: ‘DO NOT USE FOR WET GRINDING’ although the ‘DO NOT’ part was crossed out in red.
​
Had she seriously been wearing that the whole fucking time…? At least it looked like she’d recently washed it.
​
Beside Nina, I saw Natalya, looking a little more cleaned up and wearing new clothes. Someone must have gotten her out of Puriysk earlier that day. The dark haired woman that Kallas had named as Dr. Di Cesare sat on the other side of Nina, although she was more focused on her own journal than any of us.
Lastly, I saw a man I didn’t recognize at all. He was tall and looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with wavy blond hair and a clean shaven face. He was dressed in a nice but slightly wrinkled suit.
​
The blond man was the first one to speak.
“Mr. Kallas, good to see you again,” He said as he got up to greet us.
“Director Durand, I have to say that the pleasure is all mine,” Kallas said, shaking Durand’s hand. His attention turned to us next.
​
“You two must be Camille Lambert and Dom Hoskins, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Milo Durand. I’m the Director of the Fae Relations Bureau’s Department of Public Safety.”
“Hell of a mouthful,” Dom said, shaking Durand’s hand.
“Just call us the FRB for short,” He said with a smile, “Take a seat. Dr. Di Cesare and I wanted to take some time to go through the situation with the Calhoun Pocket.”
​
Kallas pulled out some seats for us and we sat down. There were glasses of water waiting for us at the table. As soon as we sat down, Dr. Di Cesare glanced up at us, but didn’t close her notebook.
“So… now that we’re all here. Where should we begin?” Kallas asked.
“Well for starters, I’d like to get a solid picture of what exactly we’re going to be walking into when we send the rest of our people into the Calhoun Pocket,” Durand said, “Mr. Kallas, I’m aware you’re detachment has already properly secured Puriysk. But I’ve got some questions regarding the other towns so we know what else to expect once we’re inside.”
“What exactly is it that you want to know?” I asked.
​
“Well for starters, we need access to the other towns. We were told that navigating between them could be difficult, but I imagine there must be some way to circumvent that,”
“There is,” Dom said, “The roads don’t always go to the same places, but there are always landmarks and turns. You can use those to navigate.”
“One of the files I found in the archive at the Deputy’s Office has a list of landmarks and directions to reach the different towns,” Nina added, “I emailed you a copy earlier to go over,”
​
Durand nodded.
“Excellent. Which leads me to my next question. Infrastructure. I can’t imagine Calhoun’s been running a show like his without some means of providing food and power to the other towns. I’m aware that Rankin Mills had a power plant, so I figure that Calhoun is using that to keep the lights on. But what about food, gas, supplies?”
“Most of the food comes from Bakersfield,” I said. “There’s a lot of farmland there, most of it fairly safe from the mist. I used to work at a Roadhouse in Thompson Falls. We’d get deliveries every week or so.”
​
“I see… what about Puriysk and Thompson Falls? What’s there?”
“Puriysk was where they trained a lot of the Sheriff’s Boys,” Dom said. “They had the largest Deputy’s Office outside of Parsons. And Thompson Falls was more of a mining community. Lotta the construction work that was done in Parsons was done by people brought in from Thompson and Puriysk.”
​
Durand raised an eyebrow.
“Construction in Parsons?” He asked.
“Calhoun’s sorta been using it as his capital. Far as I can tell, he’s been trying to build up the towns, although Parson’s the one that’s gotten the most attention,” Dom said. “I guess it’s as close to a capital city as we’ve got in there. He also mentioned the ‘Sovereign Nation of Calhoun’ although I haven’t heard anyone outside of Parsons use that name.”
“Sovereign Nation of Calhoun…” Durand repeated, before glancing at Nina. She just gave a slightly defeated nod as if to say: ‘Yeah, he actually called it that.’
​
“Okay… let’s talk about Calhoun himself… what do you know?” Durand asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Dom said, “Closest I’ve ever come to actually meeting the guy is when he spoke to us outside of the church last night. Other than that, he rarely leaves his house in Parsons and rarely appears in public and most of what I’ve heard is just rumors.”
​
“Whatever you’ve heard… odds are that it’s true,” Natalya said quietly, drawing all eyes at the table over to her.
“I’ve heard the story enough times now… first from my mother, then from so many afterward. One day, the days just grew dimmer. The clouds above us just grew so thick that you could not see the sun and the mist drifted through the streets. The roads no longer led to the same places… and at night, the shadows moved, devouring any in their paths alive and screaming. First, it came for Parsons, then Rankin, Puriysk, Bakersfield, and Thompson. One by one. In time, it will come for others. He will come for others.”
​
Durand leaned in a little bit, listening intently. Dr. Di Cesare had also paused, listening as Natalya spoke.
“My mother told me that after the change, Calhoun’s people began to enter the town. Drunken louts, filling up the bars demanding free alcohol in exchange for ‘protection’ from the things outside. Although even with the alcohol, they still left bodies in their wake.”
She paused, slipping back into old, bitter memories.
​
“She told me of the ways Calhoun had changed Puriysk… most of the men either joined his little militia out of necessity or were given other jobs where they were worked to the bone. And the women…” She paused, “The homemakers he generally left alone but the young and the pretty ones found their way into the brothel. After all, his soldiers needed something to do to pass the time when they weren’t drinking and acting like children with guns. Governor Calhoun raped Puriysk, just the same as he raped every other town he took. All my life, I’ve watched as he’s milked them for his own gain and spread like a disease across new towns, looking for more. Before I even understood what home was, he had taken my home from me. Before I was old enough to speak, he had taken my life from me. Because of him, I grew up in a brothel in a town that does not exist.”
​
Durand was silent, before looking at Nina who drummed her fingers on the table.
“Valentine?” He asked.
“Like Dom said, the only interaction we had with that guy was when he talked to us last night,” She said. “I’m not a psychologist but I’d figure most of what he said is pretty on par with what a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur would probably say. It was probably a whole lot of horseshit… probably…”
“But?” Durand asked. Nina sighed.
​
“There was one thing he said that stood out, he said that if we killed him, we’d be killing everyone else in the pocket too. He made it sound like his life was tied to it, or something. I don’t know if he can actually fucking do that or not but I’m also not sure I’d want to chance it. Some of those documents I found in the Puriysk archive mentioned Calhoun and something called ‘The Eldest’.”
​
At the mention of the name, Dr. Di Cesare looked up.
“Gretchen,” Durand asked, “Do you recognize that name.”
Gretchen Di Cesare gave a curt nod before flipping through her notebook to a previous page. As she did, I noticed her sleeve lifting briefly, revealing a tattoo on her wrist. Two wavy, parallel lines. It looked like the zodiac sign for ‘Aquarius.’
“The Eldest… Old Fae. ‘The eldest’ according to myth, hence the name. Few documented encounters. None modern…” She paused to think for a moment, “Hard to kill… harder to control. Would need the heart either way. No small task but… possible… probable.”
​
“Old Fae?” I asked, “What exactly is that?”
“More or less exactly what it says on the tin,” Nina said. “Really old forest fae who got fucked up by the Midnight Grove… and a real fucking problem if that’s what we’re going to have to deal with. Do we even know how to kill an Old Fae?”
“As stated, the heart,” Dr. Di Cesare said, “Find that, kill the Fae. Would reckon that Calhoun has it. If not on his person, then somewhere safe. And should that fail…”
She removed the revolver from her coat pocket and set it down on the table without a word.
​
“A contingency. Custom revolver, specialized blessed rounds - Malvian ice.”
I saw Nina raise an eyebrow.
“You put Malvian ice in a gun?” She asked.
“What’s Malvian ice?” I asked. I figured that this conversation required a bit of context.
“Frozen mist, obtained from the domain of an Ancient God. In essence, a part of the God herself” Dr. Di Cesare said. “Weaponized - could kill anything beneath the Ancient Gods. Never tried it with bullets before, but the live fire trial yielded promising results.”
​
My mind flashed back to the Nightwalker we’d run into last night and the way its flesh had melted away after Dr. Di Cesare had shot it with that gun. The memory sent a chill through me.
​
“So you built a gun that can shoot an Old Fae dead?” Nina asked. I couldn’t tell if she was disturbed by the guns existence or excited to try it out.
“Old Fae, Grovewalkers, and most lesser Gods, amongst other things,” Dr. Di Cesare said. “So long as it has a physical form, it can be killed.”
“Dr. Di Cesare agreed to assist us with this job, in the interest of doing her own research on the Calhoun pocket,” Durand added. “The gun is her contribution to this project. It’s intended as more of an emergency measure than anything else. But if necessary, we could use it to kill whatever is allowing Calhoun to control the pocket reality.”
Nina just whistled and sat back in her chair. She seemed almost at a loss for words.
​
“So… all we need to do is shoot Calhoun or this ‘Eldest’ thing with that gun, after we get everyone out and we’re golden, right?” Dom asked.
“I would regard The Eldest as a higher priority than Calhoun right now,” Durand said. “Calhoun could have been lying about tying his own life to the existence of the pocket reality, but I’m not willing to take that gamble if I don’t have to. Right now, my gut is saying to try and take him alive.”
​
“He’s not gonna go quietly if we try,” Nina pointed out. “Hypothetical question, if we destroy the heart, would that take the risk of killing Calhoun out of the equation?”
“No. Whatever spell was used, would not die with the caster,” Dr. Di Cesare said.
Nina nodded thoughtfully.
“I see. Fuck.”
​
“To your point though: Killing Calhoun is likely inevitable. And while I lack any meaningful data on the spell used by the Eldest or how to circumvent it, I can predict the timeframe of such a collapse. The effect would not be immediate. Could take minutes, hours or days. There may be a window for escape.”
​
“We'll have time to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Durand said. “Last question I’ve got is about the local militia, but Mr. Kallas and I can discuss that with Valentine and Mr. Hoskins separately. In the meanwhile, I believe our first order of business should be eliminating collateral. We’ll start with Puriysk, then move on to Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls. Once we’ve cleared out those towns, we’ll focus on Parsons and Calhoun. Mr. Kallas, I’ll leave it to you to oversee the evacuation efforts. It’s probably redundant to say this, but we’ve got our work cut out for us, ladies and gentlemen so let’s keep our heads down, our minds sharp and get through this as cleanly as possible. Now… without any further ado, I promised you people dinner and I’m not going to put you all to work on an empty stomach. So, as the Estonians say: ‘Head isu.’”
​
***
​
Looking back, there was a sort of bittersweetness to that evening. On one hand, I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well. After dinner, I went back to the hotel, enjoyed my hot shower, and sank into my warm sheets, waiting for Dom to come back from his meeting with Nina, Kallas, and Durand.
​
And yet… at the same time, all I could think about was what would happen in the morning. In the morning, we’d be leaving again, going back to Puriysk. Back to Calhoun. Part of me almost dreaded it, fearing that if I left this place then I’d never get to come back again.
​
But listening to Durand and the others talk during that briefing… so much of it went completely over my head and I couldn’t help but feel like that was a good thing. They’d been focused, precise, knowledgeable and most of all, prepared.
​
Calhoun’s threats lingered in the back of my mind, but they seemed so much smaller now. I struggled to imagine that Calhoun and the Sheriff’s Boys could do much the face of what had come for him, even with some kind of all powerful Fae at his disposal. Just Nina alone had been enough to rip Puriysk from his grasp… what could an army of her do?
​
I should have taken comfort in that idea. I did take comfort in that idea. But I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Maybe what Dom had said earlier was true. Maybe we’d had it so bad for so long that even the smallest good thing now seemed too good to be true… maybe. When Dom came back, I was waiting for him. We lay in bed together, talking quietly to each other about what was going to happen in the morning, and holding hands, we drifted off into sleep.

First Entry
Second Entry
Third Entry
Fourth Entry ​
Fifth Entry
​
Journal of Camille Lambert - April 12th
​
We could see the shadows of the Nightwalkers from our place by the bonfire. They peeked in through the broken windows of the church, watching us from afar but never actually entering the ruins. I’m not sure if the firelight was what kept them away, or the protective runes that Nina had drawn.
​
Nina sat on a fallen column, watching them in case they tried anything… and yet if I walked over to the right side of the circle of columns that we’d set up our bonfire in, she seemed… dimmer. Like she was there and yet not there at the same time.
​
Dom on the other hand was crystal clear. I could see him sitting by the door of the church. I couldn’t see him at all from the left side of the circle. The mist was too thick. But on the right side, he was right there, impossible to miss. The effect was surreal, to say the least. He was holding the device Nina had used to call in her backup. She’d called it a phone but it didn’t look like any phone I’d ever seen.
​
“ETA, an hour or so for the standby team in Tallinn, 15 hours for the rest,” Nina had said after she’d made her call. “Let’s get comfortable.”
I figured that it’d been about an hour and a half since she’d said that. Standing by the bonfire itself, the world past the columns seemed to be in flux. Sometimes I could see mist through the windows and the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes I could see stars.
​
Shadows of smaller Nightwalkers darted past the church door sometimes, lingering only long enough to look in on us before retreating back into the darkness. Nina watched each one like a hawk, gripping her shotgun tightly.
I walked out to sit with her for a bit, leaving the light of the fire for a little while. Even from her vantage point, I still couldn’t see Dom but at least I knew he was safe enough.
“How many do you think are out there?” I asked quietly.
“Too many,” Nina replied. “We’re not going back to Puriysk tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
​
As she spoke, I saw more shadows moving in the dark, skittering away into the mist.
“You sure you want to stay out here? Might be safer to stay with Dom,” I said.
“Probably, but it’s better if I stay here. If the door closes, I’m better off on the inside. Be easier to open it again, that way.”
“Fair enough,” I said, looking back out into the mist. I could see nothing past it.
​
No shadows. No movement. There wasn’t even any noise. Nina looked up at the darkness again.
“Is it just me or is it quieter out there?” She asked.
“No… it’s quieter out there,” I said. “Could be there’s a big one nearby. Dom said that the small ones usually avoid them.”
​
Nina kept staring out at the mist, but the silence remained. I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely worried or not. After a few minutes, I saw movement in the mist again. I heard the rustling of trees and saw something standing in the dark. I almost thought that it might have looked like a man… almost. But I couldn’t fully make out the shape of it.
​
I could see the eyes of the Nightwalker shining in the firelight, before it finally moved, darting out of sight. Nina watched it go, before returning her attention to me.
“Good news is, we won’t be alone for that much longer,” She said. “After the first group shows up, we can head into Puriysk with them and start setting up shop. By the time the rest of them arrive, we should be in a good place. After that, it’s just a matter of getting people out and dealing with Calhoun,”
“You make it sound easy,” I said.
“I mean, it probably won’t be a walk in the park,” Nina admitted. “But at least we won’t be running this job alone. These things go easier when you’ve got help.”
“Yeah… I imagine they would,” I said.
​
Beside us, I heard a dull thud as a piece of one of the church's more damaged walls fell away and crashed to the ground. Nina was up on her feet immediately, shotgun in hand. I rose to my feet beside her.
“The fuck was that?” She asked.
“Part of the wall, I think,” I said. I spotted the spot where it had fallen and looked up. It had probably come off one of the broken domed towers near the door. One of their ceilings had come down ages ago and I imagined it wouldn’t take much more than a strong gust of wind to knock over some of the loose bricks jutting out from where the roof remained. Nina approached the fallen piece of brick, pausing to inspect it.
​
“Hell of a big chunk of wall,” She said before looking up again. I did the same, although as I did, I could’ve sworn I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at it. The shadows cast by the bonfire left pools of darkness along the ceiling.
​
But in those pools, I could see flickering reflections of light.
​
Two of them.
​
Staring right at me.
​
Slowly I reached out, putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder. I didn’t want to yell or move too quickly. I couldn’t see what was in the darkness but I know that it looked poised to strike. Nina looked over at me, before tensing up. I knew that she saw it too. The eyes remained trained on us, and I heard a low, animal hiss coming from the shadows.
“Bonfire…” Nina said, gripping her shotgun tighter “Get Dom… now.”
​
I took a step back and saw the eyes following me. Nina backed away from the shadows, eyes never leaving the ceiling. I saw limbs splaying outward from the darkness. I could see them tensing up. It was going to lunge.
​
“MOVE!” I said, breaking into a sprint, but it was too late. The Nightwalker launched itself at Nina like a bullet. I heard her shotgun fire twice, before the creature crashed into the ground, flailing violently. I could see long, dark limbs, more than any human should have struggling to pick itself up. I could see a body that only vaguely resembled a man. It had a torso, a human head, and long black hair, but looked more like a spider than a person. And yet there was something off about it. Something I hadn’t seen on any of the other Nightwalkers. This one had some kind of sigil on its forehead. Something that looked almost like a crimson eye, that seemed to glow with surreal energy.
​
The Nightwalker looked at Nina, snarling at her. When it opened its mouth, I could see rows upon rows of teeth inside. She fired her shotgun again, but the creature barely even seemed to notice them. Even after she’d gone through the trouble of cursing them, her rounds weren’t doing anything.
“RUN!” I heard her yell, and I didn’t dare question that. I just ran.
​
I sprinted toward the bonfire, just in time to see Dom running toward me. He took aim at the Nightwalker, firing at it as it tried to go after Nina. But his bullets did next to nothing to it. The Nightwalker didn’t even look at him.
​
It just kept going for Nina, almost pinning her down. She unloaded two more shells into its face, which did little more than make it flinch and bought her some time to run.
​
This time, she took off at a sprint toward the bonfire. Dom saw her running and started to backpedal as well, running back toward the bonfire and the safety of the columns. The creature paused as we took shelter by the fire, watching us intently and letting out another serpentine hiss. Nina stared back at it, before looking back at the fire. She tossed her shotgun aside and hastily grabbed one of the spare branches we’d kept for the bonfire. She put it in the fire, before pulling it out and brandishing it like a weapon. The Nightwalker hissed and recoiled a bit, focused on the flame. As it paused, Dom grabbed Nina’s shotgun off the ground and took aim.
​
“Don’t…” She said, putting a hand up to stop him, her voice low and intense. She didn’t dare look away from the Nightwalker. “Save the cursed rounds… they won’t kill it. Just get outside.”
“What about you?” Dom asked.
“Outside,” Nina repeated. “Now.”
I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!” I said, trying to tug him along behind me.
​
He hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting me take him. We backed through the right set of columns, and once we were through I saw Nina taking a step away from the bonfire, toward the right set of columns. The Nightwalker passed the left set of columns, trying to follow her.
“Come on…” She said under her breath, “Come and get me, shithead…”
​
I saw it inching closer to her, and tensing up again, getting ready to pounce. That was when Nina made her move. She thrust her burning branch into the Nightwalker's face, earning a cry of pain from it and making it jerk back. I saw it swatting at the branch, trying to get rid of the fire. Nina took the chance to run, sprinting at top speed toward the door of the church.
“GO!”
​
Neither of us needed to be told twice. We ran for the church door, as the Nightwalker let out a roar from behind us. I looked back to see it charging toward us again, gaining ground. As we ran back out into the field, we were greeted by countless blinding lights. I saw Nina pause, before feeling her grab me by the back of the shirt and pull me away. I could see Dom in her other hand. She dragged us both down to the ground in the instant before the Nightwalker emerged from the door of the church.
​
I saw it recoil, putting up its clawed hands to try and shield its eyes from the blinding light.
​
Then I heard the gunfire.
​
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see several men, each holding automatic rifles advancing on the Nightwalker. It shrank back toward the church, trying to shield itself from the gunfire, clearly overwhelmed. But just like with Nina’s shotgun before it, the bullets did little to harm it. Despite all the gunfire it took, it didn’t fall. I could hear it hissing, I could see its beady black eyes darting around wildly. It lunged forward again, tackling one of the nearby men and tearing into him, before going after another. I saw its jaws close around his skull and heard the sickening crunch of bone as it took his head. The other men scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Nightwalker as they could. It howled in rage, preparing to charge after them when a final, deafening gunshot echoed through the night.
​
This time, the Nightwalker's entire body seized up. It let out an agonized scream. I could see its clawed hands clutching at a wound that had appeared on its chest… and I could see smoke rising out of that wound. It kept screaming and thrashing violently. Its limbs gave out from underneath it. I could see the wound in its chest sizzling and burning. I saw the flesh and skin sloughing off of its body, and I could see the pale white bone underneath.
​
The eye sigil on its forehead flickered before fading away and the Nightwalker let out one final, howl before collapsing to the ground, its body still twitching and convulsing. I looked over to see a single woman standing calmly by the nearby trucks. She was tall and pale, with long, stringy black hair and an intense look in her eye.
​
She was dressed in a long beige coat and holding an ornate revolver in one gloved hand. As the Nightwalker died I saw her gingerly slip the pistol into the inner pocket of her coat before reaching into another pocket for a notebook. Without ever looking away from the dead Nightwalker, she scribbled something down, then pocketed the notebook again and calmly walked toward the church, not even pausing to acknowledge anyone else around her. As she left, I saw the other armed men tending to their dead. With the Nightwalker dead, I could get a better look at them now. They were dressed like soldiers, with bulletproof vests and no shortage of pockets. A few of them wore netted veils over their faces, making it hard to get a good look at them and giving them an eerie appearance, although watching them examine the bodies of their dead and respectfully carrying them away was almost humanizing.
​
Nina sat up, her blonde hair messy and a somewhat disoriented look on her face. She looked over toward the source of the lights that had blinded us. Four large SUVs were parked outside of the church, their headlights shining on the door. From those SUVs, I could see more armed men getting out and one of them was coming toward us.
​
“Nina Valentine?” I heard him ask. He had a heavy Slavic accent.
“Still alive,” She said, as she slowly climbed to her feet.
“Good. I’m Olev Kallas, I’m from the Tallinn Office, Director Durand sends his regards,” He offered Nina a hand to shake and she reluctantly took it. “The Director is currently en route, as are the rest of the team. In the meanwhile, we’re here to help.”
“Yeah and right on fucking time too,” She said, looking over at the dead Nightwalker.
​
“Ah… yes, you can thank Dr. Di Cesare for that,” Kallas said.
Nina raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she recognized the name, but she didn’t comment on it.
“But first, I imagine you and your friends must need a hot meal and a cold drink right about now and I can get you both.”
“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea…” Nina said, as Dom helped me to my feet. She waited until we were up, before gesturing for us to follow as Kallas led us toward one of the SUV’s.
​
***
​
I barely recognized the empty field around us as Puriysk. The buildings were all long gone and in their place was a paved highway that I’d never seen before.
“The town’s been gone for as long as I can remember,” Kallas said. “I couldn’t tell you if it was us, or the Soviets who got rid of the ruins. I read somewhere that there was some talk about refurbishing the old Church, but as you see, nothing ever came of it.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” Nina said, “Made my job a hell of a lot easier.”
​
We drove down the highway, past the wide open landscape and as we drove, I couldn’t help but admire it. In the distance, I could see the lights from another nearby town and watched as they drew closer and closer. God, I’d never seen a place so full of life before. As we drove along the quiet streets, past the sleeping buildings in the early hours of the morning, they still seemed so alive. Street lights cast a warm glow on the few passersby out doing their business. There were more cars on the road than I’d ever seen before, some driving past us to their own destinations and others parked and still.
​
“I can drop you three off at a hotel if you’d like,” Kallas offered. “You can get cleaned up and have a short rest before Director Durand arrives. I can pick up some fresh clothes for you, and then we can have a debrief over dinner.”
“Yeah, works for me,” Nina said before looking over at us.
“Dinner sounds good,” I said, although at the time I had no idea what exactly a hotel was. Thankfully, I got my answer pretty quickly.
​
The room I got was comfortable. The bed was softer than anything I’d ever laid on before and the hot water… oh God… I spent almost an hour in the shower alone, enjoying the steam and feeling the tension drain out of my muscles. When I was done, I put on a soft, fluffy bathrobe and laid down, letting myself relax for the first time in days. I almost dozed off… and maybe I would have if I hadn’t heard a knock on my door.
​
I considered ignoring it and just letting sleep take me, but I figured I might as well make sure it wasn’t important. Tying my bathrobe a little tighter around me, I got up to answer the door and was greeted by Dom, still wet from the shower.
​
“Hey,” He said. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you!”
“It’s fine!” I replied, putting on a smile, “Come on in.”
I opened the door all the way to let him inside, but he hesitated.
“No, it’s alright. I just thought I’d check on you. It’s been… well, it’s been one hell of a past few days. And this feels like the first chance we’ve had to really breathe in a while.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I sighed. I still held the door open for him. “Well, we’re not going to have this conversation in the hall, so come on in. I’ve got a coffee machine in here and I’m dying to try it out.”
​
I’m not sure if it was the promise of coffee that made him accept my invitation or the realization that I probably didn’t want to be in the hall with just a bathrobe on, but he came inside anyway.I went to the coffee machine and tried to figure it out. They had these little cups that I’d never seen before, but otherwise, it seemed fairly straightforward.
​
“Man… it’s really something else out here, isn’t it?” Dom asked, going to sit down on the bed. “It’s just so bright out here!”
“I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming,” I admitted. I managed to get one of the cups into the coffee machine and watched as it pissed out a somewhat pathetic amount of scalding hot coffee that admittedly did smell very nice. It had a lovely vanilla aroma.
I brought the first cup over to Dom.
​
“Glad I’m not the only one,” He said as I went back to make another cup, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if Nina’s backup was even going to come through and I sure as hell didn’t expect any of this.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh, “Is it wrong to say that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
“Well, when something seems too good to be true…” Dom murmured, “Although then again… looking at what we had in there compared to what Nina’s been telling me about life out here, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve had it bad for so long that even the smallest good thing would seem too good to be true.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” I said.
“Maybe. But what if it’s true?”
​
I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Either way… this isn’t much more than a break, isn’t it?” Dom asked, “The calm before the storm. I know that after we talk to the Director, Nina’s going right back in… and I’m going with her.”
I nodded before taking my coffee and joining him on the bed.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m going with you.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?” Dom asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know that this kind of thing isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. I’m not saying to just let it be or anything, but there’s other ways to help that don’t involve shooting things and burning down buildings.”
​
Again, I paused.
“Maybe,” I said. “Honestly, whatever I can do, I just want to do it. Whatever it may be. I’ve been just accepting things the way they were for too long, the same as you. I don’t want to just accept it anymore! I can’t.”
“And you aren’t,” Dom said, “I mean… shit, I watched you take pot shots at a Nightwalker the other night. Ever since we left, you’ve done whatever you can to help out. You’ve done a hell of a lot more to fix things than anyone else I know. That takes a hell of a lot of strength. More than I’d probably have in your shoes… honestly, you’re half the reason I’m still doing this, Cam.”
​
I looked at him and felt his hand pressing over mine.
“Only half?” I teased, trying to distract from the shade I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Well, there’s everyone else too.” He said, “But right now, the one I care the most about is you.”
I actually broke down laughing at that and gently pushed him away.
“Too much?” He asked.
“No,” I said. “Just right.”
​
I let my head rest on his shoulder and for a little bit, we just sat together, hand in hand and beautifully content. I sensed him hesitating for a little while, before finally seizing the moment and placing his hand on my chin. I let him. He lifted my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that I all too happily reciprocated.
​
After all… who knew when we’d get another chance?
​
***
​
The restaurant that Kallas brought us to was fairly quiet, although it wasn’t empty. As we walked in, I could see a large table set out with faces both familiar and unfamiliar at it.
​
Nina had washed almost an entire layer of dirt and soot off her face. Her hair looked cleaner and she was clearly wearing new, cleaner jeans. Although I didn’t think she’d actually changed her T-shirt. I recognized it by the neckline, but I’d never seen the whole thing before. It had a graphic of a warning label on it that said: ‘DO NOT USE FOR WET GRINDING’ although the ‘DO NOT’ part was crossed out in red.
​
Had she seriously been wearing that the whole fucking time…? At least it looked like she’d recently washed it.
​
Beside Nina, I saw Natalya, looking a little more cleaned up and wearing new clothes. Someone must have gotten her out of Puriysk earlier that day. The dark haired woman that Kallas had named as Dr. Di Cesare sat on the other side of Nina, although she was more focused on her own journal than any of us.
Lastly, I saw a man I didn’t recognize at all. He was tall and looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with wavy blond hair and a clean shaven face. He was dressed in a nice but slightly wrinkled suit.
​
The blond man was the first one to speak.
“Mr. Kallas, good to see you again,” He said as he got up to greet us.
“Director Durand, I have to say that the pleasure is all mine,” Kallas said, shaking Durand’s hand. His attention turned to us next.
​
“You two must be Camille Lambert and Dom Hoskins, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Milo Durand. I’m the Director of the Fae Relations Bureau’s Department of Public Safety.”
“Hell of a mouthful,” Dom said, shaking Durand’s hand.
“Just call us the FRB for short,” He said with a smile, “Take a seat. Dr. Di Cesare and I wanted to take some time to go through the situation with the Calhoun Pocket.”
​
Kallas pulled out some seats for us and we sat down. There were glasses of water waiting for us at the table. As soon as we sat down, Dr. Di Cesare glanced up at us, but didn’t close her notebook.
“So… now that we’re all here. Where should we begin?” Kallas asked.
“Well for starters, I’d like to get a solid picture of what exactly we’re going to be walking into when we send the rest of our people into the Calhoun Pocket,” Durand said, “Mr. Kallas, I’m aware you’re detachment has already properly secured Puriysk. But I’ve got some questions regarding the other towns so we know what else to expect once we’re inside.”
“What exactly is it that you want to know?” I asked.
​
“Well for starters, we need access to the other towns. We were told that navigating between them could be difficult, but I imagine there must be some way to circumvent that,”
“There is,” Dom said, “The roads don’t always go to the same places, but there are always landmarks and turns. You can use those to navigate.”
“One of the files I found in the archive at the Deputy’s Office has a list of landmarks and directions to reach the different towns,” Nina added, “I emailed you a copy earlier to go over,”
​
Durand nodded.
“Excellent. Which leads me to my next question. Infrastructure. I can’t imagine Calhoun’s been running a show like his without some means of providing food and power to the other towns. I’m aware that Rankin Mills had a power plant, so I figure that Calhoun is using that to keep the lights on. But what about food, gas, supplies?”
“Most of the food comes from Bakersfield,” I said. “There’s a lot of farmland there, most of it fairly safe from the mist. I used to work at a Roadhouse in Thompson Falls. We’d get deliveries every week or so.”
​
“I see… what about Puriysk and Thompson Falls? What’s there?”
“Puriysk was where they trained a lot of the Sheriff’s Boys,” Dom said. “They had the largest Deputy’s Office outside of Parsons. And Thompson Falls was more of a mining community. Lotta the construction work that was done in Parsons was done by people brought in from Thompson and Puriysk.”
​
Durand raised an eyebrow.
“Construction in Parsons?” He asked.
“Calhoun’s sorta been using it as his capital. Far as I can tell, he’s been trying to build up the towns, although Parson’s the one that’s gotten the most attention,” Dom said. “I guess it’s as close to a capital city as we’ve got in there. He also mentioned the ‘Sovereign Nation of Calhoun’ although I haven’t heard anyone outside of Parsons use that name.”
“Sovereign Nation of Calhoun…” Durand repeated, before glancing at Nina. She just gave a slightly defeated nod as if to say: ‘Yeah, he actually called it that.’
​
“Okay… let’s talk about Calhoun himself… what do you know?” Durand asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Dom said, “Closest I’ve ever come to actually meeting the guy is when he spoke to us outside of the church last night. Other than that, he rarely leaves his house in Parsons and rarely appears in public and most of what I’ve heard is just rumors.”
​
“Whatever you’ve heard… odds are that it’s true,” Natalya said quietly, drawing all eyes at the table over to her.
“I’ve heard the story enough times now… first from my mother, then from so many afterward. One day, the days just grew dimmer. The clouds above us just grew so thick that you could not see the sun and the mist drifted through the streets. The roads no longer led to the same places… and at night, the shadows moved, devouring any in their paths alive and screaming. First, it came for Parsons, then Rankin, Puriysk, Bakersfield, and Thompson. One by one. In time, it will come for others. He will come for others.”
​
Durand leaned in a little bit, listening intently. Dr. Di Cesare had also paused, listening as Natalya spoke.
“My mother told me that after the change, Calhoun’s people began to enter the town. Drunken louts, filling up the bars demanding free alcohol in exchange for ‘protection’ from the things outside. Although even with the alcohol, they still left bodies in their wake.”
She paused, slipping back into old, bitter memories.
​
“She told me of the ways Calhoun had changed Puriysk… most of the men either joined his little militia out of necessity or were given other jobs where they were worked to the bone. And the women…” She paused, “The homemakers he generally left alone but the young and the pretty ones found their way into the brothel. After all, his soldiers needed something to do to pass the time when they weren’t drinking and acting like children with guns. Governor Calhoun raped Puriysk, just the same as he raped every other town he took. All my life, I’ve watched as he’s milked them for his own gain and spread like a disease across new towns, looking for more. Before I even understood what home was, he had taken my home from me. Before I was old enough to speak, he had taken my life from me. Because of him, I grew up in a brothel in a town that does not exist.”
​
Durand was silent, before looking at Nina who drummed her fingers on the table.
“Valentine?” He asked.
“Like Dom said, the only interaction we had with that guy was when he talked to us last night,” She said. “I’m not a psychologist but I’d figure most of what he said is pretty on par with what a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur would probably say. It was probably a whole lot of horseshit… probably…”
“But?” Durand asked. Nina sighed.
​
“There was one thing he said that stood out, he said that if we killed him, we’d be killing everyone else in the pocket too. He made it sound like his life was tied to it, or something. I don’t know if he can actually fucking do that or not but I’m also not sure I’d want to chance it. Some of those documents I found in the Puriysk archive mentioned Calhoun and something called ‘The Eldest’.”
​
At the mention of the name, Dr. Di Cesare looked up.
“Gretchen,” Durand asked, “Do you recognize that name.”
Gretchen Di Cesare gave a curt nod before flipping through her notebook to a previous page. As she did, I noticed her sleeve lifting briefly, revealing a tattoo on her wrist. Two wavy, parallel lines. It looked like the zodiac sign for ‘Aquarius.’
“The Eldest… Old Fae. ‘The eldest’ according to myth, hence the name. Few documented encounters. None modern…” She paused to think for a moment, “Hard to kill… harder to control. Would need the heart either way. No small task but… possible… probable.”
​
“Old Fae?” I asked, “What exactly is that?”
“More or less exactly what it says on the tin,” Nina said. “Really old forest fae who got fucked up by the Midnight Grove… and a real fucking problem if that’s what we’re going to have to deal with. Do we even know how to kill an Old Fae?”
“As stated, the heart,” Dr. Di Cesare said, “Find that, kill the Fae. Would reckon that Calhoun has it. If not on his person, then somewhere safe. And should that fail…”
She removed the revolver from her coat pocket and set it down on the table without a word.
​
“A contingency. Custom revolver, specialized blessed rounds - Malvian ice.”
I saw Nina raise an eyebrow.
“You put Malvian ice in a gun?” She asked.
“What’s Malvian ice?” I asked. I figured that this conversation required a bit of context.
“Frozen mist, obtained from the domain of an Ancient God. In essence, a part of the God herself” Dr. Di Cesare said. “Weaponized - could kill anything beneath the Ancient Gods. Never tried it with bullets before, but the live fire trial yielded promising results.”
​
My mind flashed back to the Nightwalker we’d run into last night and the way its flesh had melted away after Dr. Di Cesare had shot it with that gun. The memory sent a chill through me.
​
“So you built a gun that can shoot an Old Fae dead?” Nina asked. I couldn’t tell if she was disturbed by the guns existence or excited to try it out.
“Old Fae, Grovewalkers, and most lesser Gods, amongst other things,” Dr. Di Cesare said. “So long as it has a physical form, it can be killed.”
“Dr. Di Cesare agreed to assist us with this job, in the interest of doing her own research on the Calhoun pocket,” Durand added. “The gun is her contribution to this project. It’s intended as more of an emergency measure than anything else. But if necessary, we could use it to kill whatever is allowing Calhoun to control the pocket reality.”
Nina just whistled and sat back in her chair. She seemed almost at a loss for words.
​
“So… all we need to do is shoot Calhoun or this ‘Eldest’ thing with that gun, after we get everyone out and we’re golden, right?” Dom asked.
“I would regard The Eldest as a higher priority than Calhoun right now,” Durand said. “Calhoun could have been lying about tying his own life to the existence of the pocket reality, but I’m not willing to take that gamble if I don’t have to. Right now, my gut is saying to try and take him alive.”
​
“He’s not gonna go quietly if we try,” Nina pointed out. “Hypothetical question, if we destroy the heart, would that take the risk of killing Calhoun out of the equation?”
“No. Whatever spell was used, would not die with the caster,” Dr. Di Cesare said.
Nina nodded thoughtfully.
“I see. Fuck.”
​
“To your point though: Killing Calhoun is likely inevitable. And while I lack any meaningful data on the spell used by the Eldest or how to circumvent it, I can predict the timeframe of such a collapse. The effect would not be immediate. Could take minutes, hours or days. There may be a window for escape.”
​
“We'll have time to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Durand said. “Last question I’ve got is about the local militia, but Mr. Kallas and I can discuss that with Valentine and Mr. Hoskins separately. In the meanwhile, I believe our first order of business should be eliminating collateral. We’ll start with Puriysk, then move on to Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls. Once we’ve cleared out those towns, we’ll focus on Parsons and Calhoun. Mr. Kallas, I’ll leave it to you to oversee the evacuation efforts. It’s probably redundant to say this, but we’ve got our work cut out for us, ladies and gentlemen so let’s keep our heads down, our minds sharp and get through this as cleanly as possible. Now… without any further ado, I promised you people dinner and I’m not going to put you all to work on an empty stomach. So, as the Estonians say: ‘Head isu.’”
​
***
​
Looking back, there was a sort of bittersweetness to that evening. On one hand, I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well. After dinner, I went back to the hotel, enjoyed my hot shower, and sank into my warm sheets, waiting for Dom to come back from his meeting with Nina, Kallas, and Durand.
​
And yet… at the same time, all I could think about was what would happen in the morning. In the morning, we’d be leaving again, going back to Puriysk. Back to Calhoun. Part of me almost dreaded it, fearing that if I left this place then I’d never get to come back again.
​
But listening to Durand and the others talk during that briefing… so much of it went completely over my head and I couldn’t help but feel like that was a good thing. They’d been focused, precise, knowledgeable and most of all, prepared.
​
Calhoun’s threats lingered in the back of my mind, but they seemed so much smaller now. I struggled to imagine that Calhoun and the Sheriff’s Boys could do much the face of what had come for him, even with some kind of all powerful Fae at his disposal. Just Nina alone had been enough to rip Puriysk from his grasp… what could an army of her do?
​
I should have taken comfort in that idea. I did take comfort in that idea. But I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Maybe what Dom had said earlier was true. Maybe we’d had it so bad for so long that even the smallest good thing now seemed too good to be true… maybe. When Dom came back, I was waiting for him. We lay in bed together, talking quietly to each other about what was going to happen in the morning, and holding hands, we drifted off into sleep.

My goal is to either get into a really nice PHD program in ML (to narrow interest a little I like deep learning and parallel computing/HPC for deep learning a lot, I can go more in depth if needed), or preferably get a nice industry research job out of BS, which I know is near impossible, but anyway.
Knock on wood, but it seems I could probably publish with all the mentors I mention below, and I'll preface that a large reason I'm even having trouble with this is because the Sandia project is SUPER cool, the AFRL project is really cool, and the LL project is pretty cool.
Essentially, should I take the huge rec letters and clout from LL over the cooler projects?
View Poll

18 Male here originally heralding from Maryland. A wee bit of backstory first, up until I was 17 and a half, I had lived in the same county in Maryland for almost all of my life and didn’t realize how attached I had grown ever since I’ve moved here. Talk of moving to North Carolina had been in the air for as long as I can remember. My mom in July of 2021 got a job in North Carolina and for a year. She and my 2 sisters (which turned into 1 after Thanksgiving for her own personal reasons), lived there with a close family friend until August last year when we all moved to a house here that we’re renting. For reasons that you’ll probably understand, we couldn’t have moved at a worst possible time.
It all started the day after we unloaded the moving truck and returned it to the nearest u haul place. I was feeling alright and was ok about moving here. It was the closing weeks of summer break and I was starting my senior year of high school. I had repudiated the idea of spending my last year of school in a foreign environment, but begrudgingly went along with it. “School started pretty normally”… Is what I would have said if I wasn’t here. My first few months were terrible. No friends, no one to hang out with, freshman in almost all of my classes, and I felt no connection to my teachers. I’m an extremely awkward and shy person, so that’s makes things 10 times worse.
Meanwhile at my old school, I had to watch on Instagram where all of my old friends started school 550 miles away from what I now consider to be my real home. I have only been back one other time for half of Christmas break and immediately felt homesick as soon as we left my grandparents driveway. I was even lucky enough to even have grandparents 4 miles from my old house.
As the year turned to 2023, things only got worse. At that point, I still had no friends and no people to make connections with. Fast forward to present day and I couldn’t be anymore worse off. Here I am, a senior in high school with no friends, no job, no drivers license/learners, and I feel like a complete loser. This wasn’t supposed to be my swan song. I expected to graduate from my old high school with my friends and where I should belong. Instead, I’m trapped here because of the selfish actions of my parents to hastily move down here because of an opportunity.
To make along story short, this move down here has taken its toll on my mental health. With no one besides my family to come home to and have interactions with and no friends to hang out with, I have begun feeling very unhealthy amounts of nostalgic thoughts. There hasn’t been a day since last month that goes by where I don’t think about running away from home in some way to go back to Maryland to finish what was abruptly snatched from me in the form of finishing high school in my real hometown. It’s a struggle to get up everyday and go to school and just exist as a normal person. The best way I can describe myself right now is being a depressed and nervous wreck, unsure about my future or how the rest of my life will go without finishing where it started. Who knows, maybe I’m worrying about nothing and don’t realize that most of everyone around me ha stuff going on that makes my issues look like nothing.
TL:DR I have become a shell of my former self because of an abrupt move to North Carolina which has caused me to be so homesick to where it’s unhealthy for me.

My goal is to either get into a really nice PHD program in ML (to narrow interest a little I like deep learning and parallel computing/HPC for deep learning a lot, I can go more in depth if needed), or preferably get a nice industry research job out of BS, which I know is near impossible, but anyway.
Knock on wood, but it seems I could probably publish with all the mentors I mention below, and I'll preface that a large reason I'm even having trouble with this is because the Sandia project is SUPER cool, the AFRL project is really cool, and the LL project is pretty cool.
Essentially, should I take the huge rec letters and clout from LL over the cooler projects?
View Poll

To the seasoned rider, this will sound like common sense, but many new riders (including my younger self), might not know what to look for, or might be blinded by "Oh sick, it has pod filters!". Feel free to skip to the TL;DR at the end, I was just in a writing mood tonight and this got a little long.
My first bike, a 1981 Honda CB750 Custom, or, what was left of it. When I was looking for my first bike I didn't have a lot of cash, and really wanted a cafe style bike. Saw this one and talked him down to $1,200. I picked it up during winter, and it had been stored in a flimsy bike shed. Didn't even attempt to start it, the owner said the battery was dead from sitting over the winter but assured me it ran great with no issues.
Lesson 1: Don't buy without a test drive, and don't trust the seller to disclose all the issues. Also, always request that the bike be cold when you come to look at it. Feel the exhaust before they start it up. If it's already running, or hot when you get there, chances are there's an issue that takes some fiddling with to get it fired up.
When spring hit I finally had a chance to really get into it. The more I went over the bike, the more of a mess I realized it was. Whoever did the cafe conversion did a real hack job, under the seat was a rats nest of wires, many that had just been clipped and covered with electrical tape. And the battery was just zip tied to the frame. ( I ended up fashioning an ammo can into a battery box )
Lesson 2: Reaaallly inspect the bike. Make sure all the lights work (Headlight, tail light, brake light, turn signals). Check the wiring. Check for any fluid leaks)
I got a new battery in it, and after many times of draining and recharging the battery, it finally fired up. Did a few test drives around the neighborhood (first time ever driving a motorcycle), and it seemed to run well enough. But when I'd try to start it up again, the battery would always die before I got it started the first time. Bought a new battery thinking maybe I got a dud with the last one, and it fired right up. Decided to venture out a little more, and took off to meet a friend at the pub about 4 miles away. It died while pulling into the parking lot. I had to jump start it to leave. Made it home, but the headlights were mighty dim by the time I got there. Turns out it had a bad stator. Then I found oil leaking out of the head, and discovered some stripped head bolts. It sat in my garage for the rest of the summer, then I sold it for a loss. Put maybe 30 miles on it.
You'd think I'd learned my lesson after that, but nope. 2nd bike 1976 Honda CB550
This one was at least modded by someone who at least had an ok understanding of what he was doing. Drove to the other side of the state and picked to pick it up. Test rode this one, but it had already been started and heated up before I got there (See Lesson 1). It seemed to run fine after running it up and down the street, so I took it home. Found out it reaallly didn't like to fire up if the weather was on the cooler side. I could get it there, but it took a lot of coaxing. First time I took it out on a proper run, I learned that once it got warmed up, it liked to idle at 3k rpm when stopped. I could drop the rpm's if I slowly let out the clutch and pulled it in just before it died, but if I even touched the throttle it was back up to 3k. The carbs also seemed out of synch, and was exacerbated by the pod filters (those things are a nightmare unless you rejet the carbs, and even then, you need a miracle to tune it right). Also found out the fork seals were shot and leaking.
So after that, I decided I was going to save up and get a decent running newer bike. I was looking for a KLR or Vstrom, something more reliable and I could also take moto camping. But then this happened.....Saw a facebook listing for a 1975 Honda CB550. 100% stock, so no worries about a hack job, and they're almost impossible to find intact in my area. So I talked the guy down on the price, and went to look at it. He had it 1 mile from my house. Did a quick test drive (was in the city, so just puttering around), came back and handed him the cash. I bought it 3 hours after he listed it. The next day I took it to work to put it through it's paces. Once I got it up to speed I noticed a vertical wobble from the front tire. Then I noticed a fluid spot under the bike when I got out of work. It was leaking from the shift lever. Upon further inspection, I found a few big holes on the frame side walls of the exhaust (on both sides). It also didn't like sitting at idle, I'd have to keep it revved a little at lights to keep from stalling.
I had enough. Sold both of those. At this point I was up to 3 bikes, with maybe 200 miles between the 3 of them (at least 125 were just from bike #2).
I searched around for a while, and took my time looking for a deal (this was during covid, and the crazy markups weren't just limited to cars). I settled on an '09 Kawasaki KLR650 (Pic taken after a few mods I made. Rally Dash, Touring Screen, 2" Dogbone suspension lift, Tusk Boxes). When I looked at it I did a thorough inspection of the bike, started it up cold, and took it out for a longer test drive (Stop and go traffic, Back roads, Highway etc). Questioned the owner about the bikes history, he hadn't ridden it much, he got it so he could ride with his kids on their new dirtbikes, but turns out the kids weren't really into it. But he told me about the previous owner. He maintained it religiously, as proven by the box full of receipts, and a log with every fluid change, and other maintenance. (also proof that the Doo was done, KLR owners know what that means). It had 37k miles on it, but it was solid. This bike served me well, it was my daily driver year round as long as there was no snow/ice on the road, and temps were above 35, along with many 2-300 mile afternoon road trips. Put thousands of miles on it. (I even did the Lake Michigan Saddle Sore run on it, 1k miles in under 24 hours). It finally died on me the day before I was going to take it on a Michigan to Key West round trip. The electrical system fried while I was getting on the highway. No regrets, I got my moneys worth out of it.
After that I went a few years without a bike, dealing with some curveballs life threw at me. I've been saving up to get something newer (5 years or less) and low mileage. Thinking a Triumph Tiger, or a Super Ten. But I couldn't handle not having a bike anymore, I spent the last two years being angry when I'd see other people out cruising around on nice sunny days.
So I picked up a cheap bike just to hold me over until I save up for what I really want. It's a 1986 Kawasaki Concours 1000 She's a bit rough around the edges, old, high mileage, but mechanically sound. Picked it up from a local pastor who put a couple thousand miles on it touring around with friends. If I were to stick with this bike, it'd probably need a little tlc next season to put it in tip top shape, but I plan on upgrading next spring.
Anyway, I feel like that all got a bit off topic.
TL;DR: If you're looking for your first bike, don't pick up a project because it looks cool, and you've got grand plans of whipping it into shape (unless you're already a decent mechanic). Those old bikes are really neat, but there's a good chance you'll spend way more time tinkering with it than actually riding it. Get a decent running bike first, even if it seems boring. Then pick up a project on the side if you must. Don't buy a bike without thoroughly checking it out, and give it a good test drive in different riding conditions, not just a few laps around the block. And always insist that the bike is cold (hasn't been started recently) before you get there
Also, just another bit of advice. Never buy a bike without a title. It varies from state to state, but it can be a nightmare getting a new title as a buyer. They'll tell you "Oh, it's super easy, just bring a bill of sale to the DMV/SOS". But it's not that easy. If it was they would have done it already. Chances are it's either A. Stolen or B. They bought it from someone without a title after hearing the same "just do xyz to get a new title, simple!", then found out it's not so simple, and is attempting to pawn it off to the next sucker.

I have recently gotten a job and it is basically 100% remote working, which in all honesty, is wonderful. But I am starting to realise that I don’t have that much time to leave my house to get food during my breaks.
Thus, looking for some advise from some experience souls here. What do you guys do? Should I consider meal-prepping?
Thanks in advance!
Edit: open to any meal-prep recs!