Bungou stray dogs guild members
Bungou Stray Dogs
2015.12.25 17:44 cimib Bungou Stray Dogs
BungouStrayDogs is community to share discussions, theories, art, and everything else Bungou Stray Dogs!
2021.09.13 14:04 EngelchenYuugi BungouStrayDogsFans
Bungou Stray Dogs is a manga series written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harakawa.
2020.01.16 02:07 thiccrat69 Bungoustrayships
A judgement free place for fans of the anime/manga Bungou Stray Dogs who want to express their love for ships, canon, fanon, romantic or platonic!
2023.03.21 09:38 danichanVII Found a stray cat, returned it but now…
So bare with me friends, a friend and I had found a cute cat underneath the tire of her car, the little guy seemed fairly thin, dirty, and tired. We took him home under the impression he was a stray, but was unusual due to the very ODDLY behaved demeanor. What I’m saying is the cat wasn’t aggressive, mean, but rather so calm it was weird? He was very lovable, as well as behaved in such a high standard that he did not cry or fuss when in the car, even when we had given him a bath he used no claws on us (even though he had them) now we are a multiple cat household, and we understand a stray could be THE DEATH of our other indoor only cats. So our game plan was to quarantine the stray and take him to the vet ASAP the next day. Since I’m out area finding a hospital open at 10pm was impossible. We had kept the guy for ONE night since the next day I had called over 13 vets to get a stray in to be chipped with the mindset he may not have any shots needed if he wasn’t owned. Now when we reached a vet alas, we explained that we found him and we were unsure if he was a stray or not but we did want to get stuff done for him to keep it he was not owned. we had him chipped first and foremost. They had found the owner and asked us if we would like to have them contacted. I will confess, I was not exact onboard as the condition he was in really did bother me alot. Having owned almost 6 cats I just found it scary, and answered with a : well I would prefer not if possible. To which the vet said she was inclined to call anyways. Within the call I heard the vet ask if we, may possibly keep him. To which they said no and had given us their information to get in contact to return their pet, and we did. Though the story given from the vet to us was the owner was out of town and her cat basically was let out and gone for three days with the cat sitter saying “Oh I thought they would come back..” it honestly baffled me and was so shocking that I had prepared myself to offer to watch the cat completely free and In fact I had to be very honest and open to the owner when she arrived that I was particularly attached to the cat. Though I guess the story was not as told because when I had questioned the owner on what happened she fessed that it was no longer her cat but HER FRIENDS cat. She had given him away since her dogs and the cat had problems, honestly she even started to say wishy washy things to us such as: what if I tell her you guys didn’t return the cat and you could keep him, is your mother ok with it? I’m very open and honest so I said it would in fact hurt me to part ways with the cat and I’m happy to take him and give him a home. She had then said her friends daughter was really attached to the cat so, she figured she would ask if we can keep the cat and get back to us. We said our goodbyes and I waited, and waited. To a very firm not, but a message saying I had done the right thing. That they were grateful I returned their pet. I honestly cried and cried days after since I was extremely attached, but worried because the condition of the cat, with the story of him being missing for 3 days? It seems to me the new owners didn’t care a-lot, now whether it’s true or not isn’t facts, but my own feelings. So I waited 2 days to propose to the “owner” that I would buy the cat for $300 - $400 as I really did get attached, again I was expecting rejection, but to relief myself I wanted to at-least try to ask, as the worst answer I COULD get was another “no”. Surprise Surprise, it was indeed a no, to which I did accept after the fact and let it go.
Now that’s my side of things, now let’s fast forward, today I saw a post on Facebook about a cat being missing, one that looks just like the cat from then. It IS the cat, but the owner is saying quote: “In need of help, please share ... My daughters Cat Apollo (male) ran away this morning. Just opened the door in the morning to head out to work, and he took a nice Batman jump, and out the door he was. I was not able to get him back. Now this cat is my daughters emotional support. If someone sees the cat, please message me on FB messenger . Please, Do not take him home with you to keep. He has a chip! Cats tend to find their home when gone, but not if they are being taken from their path, thank you in advance” so I am curious but excited because I would love to keep and find him, but scroll down to see this owner dissing me and my friend on a reply from someone saying they have an indoor cat, quote: “thank you (blank). Ours is an inside cat too. Mostly with my daughter in her room. Last time he ran away, we thought he would be back too, (that's what cats do) but someone picked him up and took him to the vet to have him checked out. Luckily he has a chip, and the vet called me to let me know my cat was found, but the people who brought the cat, mentioned it's their cat (chip didn't agree to that). That's the way we had him back. (After looking for him for days)” This, this hurt me so much in ways you wouldn’t believe and makes me very mad. I cared for the cat but never had the intention to keep the cat without asking or finding its true home. I had wrote a message to them saying I am sorry for what happened and even said that I had to real intentions to keep the cat or separating the family without finding out more about who this cat belonged to. I had even given the little guy a collar since he had not a single thing on him to confirm if he was owned or not, the collar was a way for any future escapes to be less confusing. Now I’m here thinking and questioning today, is this cat really being neglected? As a rewind to when I returned him, the “owner” said her friend had gotten new puppies and was going to let me know/ give the cat to me if anything happened. Now this cat is fixed so I don’t assume he runs from mating, but I also just want to be assured that nothing IS going on for this cat, for me to be suspicious of any neglect on his part. I just sincerely want him to be okay as I do tend to worry for cats who break out. I am thinking once they reply I will offer my contact information incase he breaks away. What do you all think? Could this cause me to be in great trouble at all?
submitted by danichanVII to cats [link] [comments]
Now that’s my side of things, now let’s fast forward, today I saw a post on Facebook about a cat being missing, one that looks just like the cat from then. It IS the cat, but the owner is saying quote: “In need of help, please share ... My daughters Cat Apollo (male) ran away this morning. Just opened the door in the morning to head out to work, and he took a nice Batman jump, and out the door he was. I was not able to get him back. Now this cat is my daughters emotional support. If someone sees the cat, please message me on FB messenger . Please, Do not take him home with you to keep. He has a chip! Cats tend to find their home when gone, but not if they are being taken from their path, thank you in advance” so I am curious but excited because I would love to keep and find him, but scroll down to see this owner dissing me and my friend on a reply from someone saying they have an indoor cat, quote: “thank you (blank). Ours is an inside cat too. Mostly with my daughter in her room. Last time he ran away, we thought he would be back too, (that's what cats do) but someone picked him up and took him to the vet to have him checked out. Luckily he has a chip, and the vet called me to let me know my cat was found, but the people who brought the cat, mentioned it's their cat (chip didn't agree to that). That's the way we had him back. (After looking for him for days)” This, this hurt me so much in ways you wouldn’t believe and makes me very mad. I cared for the cat but never had the intention to keep the cat without asking or finding its true home. I had wrote a message to them saying I am sorry for what happened and even said that I had to real intentions to keep the cat or separating the family without finding out more about who this cat belonged to. I had even given the little guy a collar since he had not a single thing on him to confirm if he was owned or not, the collar was a way for any future escapes to be less confusing. Now I’m here thinking and questioning today, is this cat really being neglected? As a rewind to when I returned him, the “owner” said her friend had gotten new puppies and was going to let me know/ give the cat to me if anything happened. Now this cat is fixed so I don’t assume he runs from mating, but I also just want to be assured that nothing IS going on for this cat, for me to be suspicious of any neglect on his part. I just sincerely want him to be okay as I do tend to worry for cats who break out. I am thinking once they reply I will offer my contact information incase he breaks away. What do you all think? Could this cause me to be in great trouble at all?
2023.03.21 09:06 zhjpwcirqr 😘👉👌 IF YOU TAP YOU WILL CUM 🍆💦
 | submitted by zhjpwcirqr to v2r014vq15 [link] [comments] IF YOU TAP HERE YOU WILL CUMIF YOU TAP HERE YOU WILL CUMIF YOU TAP HERE YOU WILL CUMhttps://i.redd.it/r7e8yn6av1pa1.gifIn an effort to make it easier to get out of bed, I had set my alarm clock to play a random song from a playlist of my favorites instead of an annoying buzzer. Although that makes the process more enjoyable, I'm still not exactly a morning person. Nevertheless, I forced myself out of bed and blindly pulled clothes from my dresser. While I dressed, I consoled myself with the fact that the first day of school is all about learning the rules for the umpteenth time: I wouldn't have any homework. I trudged, zombie-like, to the bathroom, and saw that Nicole was still asleep when I passed her room. For whatever reason, she sleeps like a male college student. Being that this was the first day of school, I had to wake her up. I shook off my drowsiness and took a flying leap onto her bed. "Nicole, it's the first day of school! Aren't you excited?!" "Fuck off!" She replied, attempting to dislodge me from the bed while desperately holding on to the covers. "Not getting rid of me that easily!" I grinned as I threw the covers off of her. "Aaron!" She shrieked. "Don't wanna be late on the first day!" I said in an annoying sing-songy voice. Nicole grumbled a lot, but she got up from her bed and shooed me out of the room so she could dress. I completed my usual morning routine and headed downstairs for breakfast. "Morning!" My mom said cheerfully from the kitchen. I think she, like all of us, wanted to forget the events of the night before and had chosen to move on. "Morning, mom. What's for breakfast?" "Scrambled eggs and bacon." "Awesome." I sat down to eat. Have I mentioned that my mom's a great cook? She is. After Nicole and I finished breakfast, we said goodbye to mom and got in my car. "What are we listening to today, MC Nicky?" I asked Nicole. Fortunately, we have very similar taste in music (despite her being a teenage girl, who usually have the worst taste in music), so we don't often argue about what to listen to. "I'm thinking we roll up bumpin' some gangsta rap, dawg." She said. "F'sho, homie." I handed her my phone to look for music. Nicole plugged the auxiliary cable into my phone and started scrolling through my library of music. I was surprised when some stupid One Direction song started playing. "The fuck?!" I yelped. "I do NOT own that song!" Nicole laughed and put some other music on. When we were only a couple minutes away from school, one of my favorite songs came on: "Gimme the Loot" by the Notorious B.I.G., may he rest in peace. I am proud to know all of the lyrics to this song, so I turned the volume up to disturbing-the-peace levels and lowered all the windows. "My man Inf left a tec and a nine at my crib/ turned his self in he had to do a bid/ a one-to-three, he be home the end of '93/ I'm ready to get this paper G, you with me?" I rapped in time with the music. After that, the lyrics contain a bunch of words that I'm not really supposed to say, but I did anyway. When we drove past the groups of students making their way in, many of them grinned and waved as they recognized us. My antics are pretty well-known at my school, so no one usually takes offense. I parked the car and got out, taking a facetious and very pompous bow toward everyone who heard my grand entrance. I made my way toward my friends and several of them started clapping. As more and more people joined in, I took several more bows, while Nicole did her best to look like she wasn't associated with me. "Another douchey start to the year, eh, Aaron?" Jake remarked. "Is there a better way?" I asked him as I gave Nicole a big hug to remind her that I was her brother and she couldn't escape my embarrassing actions. "Yes, definitely. But you seem incapable of doing anything normally." He quipped. "All of you fuckers love me." I said, pointing to each of my friends in turn. After I enjoyed their exasperated looks for a little while, I said, "Best not be late!" and strode off to homeroom with Jake. We found the room and sat in the back corner. Since we were a few minutes early, I decided to relax for a while; I pulled out my headphones and plugged them in as I put my feet up Jake's desk. We watched the students file in one-by-one. After a couple minutes, Lana walked in. I waved to get her attention and she came over to sit next to Jake and I. "Hey guys." She smiled somewhat nervously. "Hey Lana." I pulled out an earbud to talk to her. "How's it going?" "Alright. It took me forever to find this room. The numbering makes no sense." "Eh, you'll get used to it." Just after I finished speaking, my friend Mitch came over to our corner of the room. "Hey Aaron, you wanna come to this party I'm throwing at the beach on Friday? There's gonna be a bonfire and shit. Should be fun." "Your friends can come, too." He added, giving Lana a pretty conspicuous once-over. She was looking great in short jean shorts and a tank top. "Thanks, Mitch, I'll see if I can come." I gave him a bro-handshake (there really needs to be a better word for that...) and he walked back to his seat. The bell rang and class began. Since my school runs on a block schedule, I prepared to endure an hour-and-a-half of learning when I'm allowed to chew gum, what violates the dress code, and a bunch of other boring rules. Finally, the bell rang and saved me from my boredom. I flew out of the class so I could go to the bathroom. On my way out of the bathroom, a big guy with a bunch of tattoos slammed into me. "Watch it." He snarled. "Watch what?" I asked innocently, trying to diffuse the situation so I could avoid getting into a fight on the first day of school. That's always a bad omen. "... What?" His aggression evaporated and was quickly replaced by confusion. "You said 'watch it', I was wondering what I was supposed to watch. Are you going to perform a magic trick?" "Fuck off." He growled as his aggression quickly returned. "Whatever, dude. I'm just disappointed that you're not going to do a trick." I walked away, shaking my head. I walked to the next class, my mind already on lunch. I saw Ashton walking the same way as me a few feet ahead. After taking a moment to study at her yoga pants-covered posterior, I called out to her above the heads of the people in between us. "Yo, Ash!" She turned and looked around for a moment before seeing me. She smiled and stepped to the side, out of the endless flow of students, to wait for me. "Hey, Aaron. What class are you going to?" "English. Mr. Harrison." I replied as we started walking. "Me too!" She replied. "I guess that means you can cheat off of me this year." I grinned. "I think that would lower my grade." She retorted. I stuck my tongue out at her and smacked her butt. She hit me with her purse and blushed as she looked around to make sure that no one had seen. We walked in to English and sat down. It went pretty much exactly the same as homeroom, so we were very thankful when the bell rang for lunch. I met my friends outside and we began the usual argument over where to eat. Eventually, I got bored and decided for everyone. "Mexican." I declared. "We're getting Mexican food, so everyone shut the hell up. Ok?" Everyone begrudgingly agreed, so we drove to my friend Jorge's family's Mexican restaurant. We sat down, ordered, and got our food. A few minutes later, I finished my burrito, but everyone else was either still eating or full. "You gonna eat that?" I asked Dre. "Mm-- Yeff." He said through a mouthful of his own burrito. "You gonna eat that?" I turned to Ashton. "Ugh. No, I'm soo full..." She groaned. "Thanks." I switched plates with her and started on her remaining tacos. After I finished, we threw some money on the table for a tip and got up to pay. Mrs. Delgado, Jorge's mom, was at the cash register. "Hola, señorita." I gave her my trademark half-smile. "You're looking as beautiful as ever." I always call her "señorita", which basically means "young woman", because Jorge's mom was a total MILF. I'm about 90% sure she was Miss Mexico. I used to always tell Jorge that I had such impure thoughts about his mom, solely for the purpose of irritating him. (If you haven't figured this out by now, I like pushing people.) "Such flattery, mijo." She responded in her soft, lilting accent, waving a hand as if to dismiss the praise. She teasingly calls me "mijo", which means "my son", because I used to hang out with Jorge so much that I was like another son to them. Jorge is in college at Oxford now, though, so I don't see him too often. "How's Jorge?" I asked as I dug out my wallet. "He's good. He is still planning to be a doctor. He just started his second year." "That's great! Please tell him and Mr. Delgado that I said hi." We exchanged kisses on the cheeks, as always. "I will, mijo. Good to see you again." "Good to see you too, señora Delgado." I followed my friends out the door. "Dude, why do you have to flirt with every woman or girl that you meet?" Adam asked me, only half-joking. "I like to grant their wishes of being hit on by an incredibly charming and good-looking stranger." I answered, not really paying attention. I walked over to my car and Ashton hopped in, as she had done on the way over. I started driving back to school. When we reached a red light, however, Ashton siezed me and pulled me in for a kiss. I was surprised, but I rolled with it and got caught up in the kiss until someone honked from behind us, alerting me that the light had changed. I reluctantly broke off the kiss so I could drive as I quoted Albert Einstein. "'Any man who can drive safely and kiss a pretty girl simply isn't giving the kiss the attention it deserves.'" I've been known to spout random quotes and pieces of trivia, but they're not usually quite that relevant to the situation at hand. Ashton sighed. "Fine, I'll ask. How do you know that?" I shrugged. My brain absorbs information very well, especially unimportant information. Since there's no way I can really explain that to my friends, I don't even try to anymore. 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2023.03.21 09:00 AutoModerator CHAT Community Thread - Tue Mar 21
*** Comments mentioning anything related to treatment in this thread will be removed via our OFF TOPIC rule. Consider if you were taking a break from treatment because you were exhausted and sad - treatment (yes anything related to it) goes in treatment **\*
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Last reminder - this is the CHAT thread. Not the place to discuss anything focused on treatment.
submitted by AutoModerator to infertility [link] [comments]
Coping with infertility is complex, and it is our imperative to create places where we can honor the distinctly unique needs created by infertility. Sit beside us and share what’s on your mind and going on in your life. This is a great place to get to know your fellow members outside the gravity of treatment. Discussion here includes, but is not limited to:
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2023.03.21 08:02 Elysium94 What if "The Last of Us Part II" was about atonement and hope, instead of revenge? (Part 3 of 4)
 | \"Endure and survive.\" submitted by Elysium94 to fixingmovies [link] [comments] Welcome back, everybody, to the third posting in my rewrite of Naughty Dog's The Last of Us Part II. A rewrite in which I reframe the cycle-of-revenge narrative into a story about redemption and the search for hope in the post-outbreak world. Fallen a little behind in this one, I admit, between the release of the TV series and general life events. And I gotta say, the show definitely lived up to expectations. Here, we pick up after the devastating events of the third chapter. The first couple of posts, as a refresher Some notes, also, before we proceed 1: As there ended up being a lot more story than I initially expected, I'm again expanding the rewrite, this time to four posts. 2: Following some feedback after the last post, there's a couple amendments I'd make to Chapter 3.
4: An expansion on FEDRA as a faction, and its leader as well.
With all that out of the way, let's begin! **** CHAPTER 4 THE JOURNEY Ellie Three days after the fall of Jackson, whoever wasn't captured or killed in the attack are on the road. Jackson's people are scared, confused, almost aimless. Joel in particular is talking to no one, merely trailing the refugees. Keeping an eye out for signs of danger.
Ellie herself is shaken not just by Tommy's death, but the capture of Dina. But after a talk with Maria and Jesse, she decides she's not going to sit around and wait for a rescue to be planned. She's going to take the initiative herself and get Dina back.
She dispatches several of them, but one almost escapes and sounds an alert. Soon an armored patrol moves in, and Ellie is almost caught before she's helped by the surprise appearance of Joel. Who makes it clear he's not letting her do this alone. Jesse shows up as well, saying they're going to rescue their friends together. Ellie guesses Joel is more concerned with revenge against Abby, but given their circumstances and what they're up against she can't afford to be picky. The trio continue on their journey, with Joel and Ellie exchanging some cautious words.
Abby Back in Washington, Abby is reviewing the results of FEDRA's first strike against Jackson and the WLF. Colonel Lee is disappointed at the escape of Ellie Williams and the rest, but sees those hostages taken as a valuable bargaining chip. And he anticipates Joel will come looking for revenge. Abby wants to go out and find him again, but Lee tells her she's done enough for now. While Lee plans his next move against the WLF, Abby questions Dina, hoping to get answers on possible whereabouts of the Jackson survivors. Abby admits she regrets the prisoners' awful housing, and offers them better food and shelter in return for their help. In response, Dina tells her to go to hell. She doesn't know anything, and wouldn't tell Abby if she did.
As she sets out to patrol the border, Owen and his partner Mel question what she'll do now that Joel is sure to come for them all.
In the wild, Abby hears more FEDRA personnel talking about the prisoners and what to do. Some wish to recruit them, or transfer them to heavily-monitored communities as to be assimilated into a restored civilization. Others, to Abby's disgust, would gladly kill all of their enemies. Especially the Seraphites. Owen tries to assuage Abby's worry. Though he himself has questioned Lee at times, he hopes they can find some semblance of a peaceful, "normal" world when the fighting in Washington is done. Abby hopes so too, believing he and Mel will make great parents.
Ellie In the wild, the Seraphites detain Ellie's group. The stealthy organization easily bypass FEDRA patrols, escorting the trio to a shelter for questioning. The local Seraphite authority, a woman named Emily, interrogates them. They insist they're only passing through to rescue hostages of FEDRA, and mean no trouble. Emily is skeptical, and Joel picks up quick that something has her on edge. Something more than just the usual skirmishes.
Ellie takes the initiative to offer them help. If the Seraphites get them to Seattle and rescue their friends, Ellie's group will help them decapitate FEDRA's leadership.
On the lengthy journey, Ellie obtains new equipment from the Seraphites as well as several lessons from Nicholas.
As night falls again, Ellie readies her repaired bow and notes that Joel hasn't slept in almost a day. She suggests he get some rest, promising to keep watch. While Ellie keeps watch, she has a conversation with Emily. The Seraphite remains closed off, with Ellie noting something in her similar to Joel. Sure enough, Emily says she has two children traveling with another group. She wants to reconnect as soon as possible, with the news of FEDRA mobilizing their final campaign in Washington. Emily says she objected to her children, a boy and a girl, going off without her. Even fought with them over it. Ellie doesn't say anything, but Emily's words strike a chord with her. A day later, the joint party arrive in WLF-controlled territory and come face to face with Isaac Dixon. Acting commander of the paramilitary, and chief opposition to Colonel Lee's occupation.
What he calls the "Black Zone". But things hit a snag when Emily receives a transmission on a portable radio. The voice of a frightened teenager comes in, and Emily panics. It's her son. Ellie, Joel and Jesse tense up when they hear another voice in the background of the call. Abby. CHAPTER 5 THE HORDES Abby After a lengthy period, Abby's team have pushed the nearest Seraphite hunting party into an entrenched position. They work together to trap the party, but in the final firefight Manny is shot dead and a grieving Abby is distracted long enough to suffer a knockout hit from a Seraphite. She wakes strung up, in the woods, at the mercy of the lead hunter Ferris.
Just as they're abusing it now, moving to forcibly "tame" the new world rather than try to adapt to it.
Still angered over Manny's death, Abby chases Ferris into his shelter and corners him. But to her surprise, not only is the young boy still with him but also a girl roughly two years older. Also present is an elderly man, a nurse, and several young children. The boy is on a radio, calling in to someone called "Emily". Keeping them all at gunpoint, Abby yells at the boy to put the radio down but is clearly not willing to shoot. Ferris, dying of his wounds, tries one last time to attack her before he's gunned down by a FEDRA soldier. The children are taken into custody, and the radio taken way. On the other end, Abby hears a woman frantically calling for the boy, Lev. But after Abby takes the radio, barking orders at the others, the other end falls silent... Until Joel picks it up. The older man threatens Abby, telling her anything she does to the children will be answered. A hateful Abby curses at him, saying he has no right to judge her. She tells Joel he'll pay for what he did to her father, Jerry, and what she started with Tommy she'll finish with him. Joel baits her not to wait, and instead come looking for him and Ellie. Taunting her with the hope she puts up a better fight than her father, a man who was strong enough to hurt children but folded when he faced a man. Abby angrily throws the radio away, doing her best to hide her angry tears at just hearing Joel's voice.
Upon their arrival, the prisoners are processed and Abby learns the boy is in fact transgender. Danny, a FEDRA sergeant, immediately begins mistreating him until Abby gets him to back off. Abby takes charge of the siblings and escorts them to a cell, before questioning them. Their names are established as Yara, the sister, and Lev, the brother. The sister, Yara, warns Abby that their mother will come for them. Abby falls back on her training and FEDRA's official policy, telling Yara her people picked this fight by not answering Lee's peaceful overtures. Lev finally speaks up, saying Lee's terms would see the Seraphites completely assimilated by the occupation and abandon the way of life that's kept them going for decades. He asks Abby what she thinks will become of them should Lee win, and they don't surrender.
Abby later dines alone, brewing in her continued frustration with recent events and grief for losing a good friend in Manny. Owen joins her, knowing her well enough to see how much she's still hurting. The two engage in an increasingly tense talk on what's happened lately. Their conversation reaches a head when Owen asks, point blank, if Abby really would have cared for the cause if Lee hadn't offered her a chance at revenge. More than that, Owen asks if Jerry would have wanted Abby to walk the path she has. Separating mothers from their children, torturing and killing men just for their brother's sins, etc. Abby shuts down, not wanting to hear anymore, and secludes herself.
Just angry, and hurt. And tired. But, as she continues to brood, Abby thinks about what Joel said about her father. That he was bent on murdering a child. She thinks back to the Fireflies' planned operation on Ellie, remembering there's a good deal she didn't know. A good deal she's never asked Lee. Ellie Back with the WLF, Isaac confers with his guests as to his plan against Colonel Lee. For weeks, the WLF has been stockpiling any weapons available as to commit to a strike against the heart of the FEDRA occupation. But, as Emily and Nicholas point out, even if they pool all available resources they're still outnumbered and outgunned. Isaac reveals his trump card. The Black Zone, the abandoned areas beneath Seattle, have become home to a nest of Infected numbering in the hundreds. And not just the typical variants, but mutated ones as well. Including an "alpha" variant called the Rat King.
Joel asks just how Isaac is willing to go if it means beating Lee. Finally, the Jackson party learn just the kind of man they're dealing with. The full scope of what they face.
The Jackson party warily agree.
Joel scolds her, telling Ellie he had it under control. Ellie fires back, but before they can get at each other's throats yet again Jesse chews them both out for getting so distracted. Jesse reminds them why they're really here, and that their friends won't ever see home again if Joel and Ellie can't spend more than a few minutes together without fighting.
Caught red-handed, Ellie hems and haws before confessing to Jesse that she's immune. Jesse is shocked, wondering how many others knew. Ellie tells him only Maria and Joel know, as did Tommy.
Ellie says Tommy encouraged her right until the end not to close herself off to others, even Joel. But it's been so hard. Jesse asks if there's anything he can do to help. Ellie says no, and her friend quietly leaves. Rummaging mindlessly through her things, Ellie takes a moment to think back and finally reminisce on the day she broke with Joel. **** A final flashback details the falling out, four years after the events of Part I*.*
And Joel, for once, has nothing to say. **** In the present, Ellie is still weeping alone. Still brewing in resentment and helpless anger. But then she looks down at her wrist, and the bracelet Dina gave her before the attack on Jackson. She clutches onto it tightly, and tries to tell herself it's not all gone. It can't be. Pushing past her tears, Ellie reaches deep into a larger pack she kept hidden from the rest of the party. She pulls out a guitar, the same guitar Joel gave to her as a gift. Taking her mind off the fear and worry of the mission for just a little while, Ellie starts to play. When she's done, a calmed Ellie senses she's being watched. She puts the guitar down and turns to face Joel, who's standing nearby. The old man looks more vulnerable than Ellie has ever seen him.
She and Joel take their horses to a secluded clearing, and the two set up camp. Joel sits down, waiting for Ellie to join him. And join him she does, knowing it's time they settled things at last. **** That does it for this section. As I said before, this ended up running pretty long, thus necessitating I split up the rewrite just once more. Hope you enjoyed it. And if you still haven't checked out the HBO series, I more than recommend it. This weekend, I'm finally going to return to a long-delayed post on a rework of of DC Comics television. This time, a rework of the age-old Batman/Superman tale. See you then! |
2023.03.21 07:47 nkvids sega bungou stray dogs
 | submitted by nkvids to Animeedits [link] [comments] |
2023.03.21 07:40 Effective-Ad9675 Stray (specifically pitbulls) problem in SA and my missing cat
Hello everyone, it’s my first post here to this sub but I’ve been an observer for a while and liking posts. I live in San Antonio, which was the city recently featured for the attack on the elderly man and brutal video that surfaced. I want to share some experiences and observations bc for some reason I have been shut down, made fun of, and gaslit every time I do and I thought this might be my only safe place to air out my concerns.
First of all, we have an out of control issue as far as stray dogs here in SA and it’s concerning that majority of them are pits. No one, especially lawmakers, seem to take this seriously though and I feel like I am crazy for being concerned. I mean for crying out loud, the day after the attack surfaced online and all over our news I saw a couple being their large pit to the mall (where I work) with a fake looking service vest on. I don’t want to judge on appearances but r hey looked like your average Walmart shopper is all I will say, not to mention this pissed off looking dog was barely held by a skimpy leash. I know people walk their dogs around the mall here all the time but it felt in poor taste to bring him in the day after a couple was mauled.. there are so many tiny dogs people walk around with and I shudder to think what could happen.
My second part of the post is more like a vent but I need to get this off my chest. My large cat has been an outdoor cat for a few months now and he is so much happier and healthier for it. He comes by daily for food and if he wants to come in during bad weather or for no reason at all of course I let him with open arms. He is very smart and agile, and not afraid to defend himself but when I noticed the increasing number of stray packs around my neighborhood I tried to keep him in as much as I can. My family however doesn’t like him and if they open the door and he runs out they won’t stop him.
I had not seen him in a few days and I was worried, I drove around every day before and after work to see if i could find him but no luck. He’s been missing for almost two weeks now and I fear one of the pits in our neighborhood may have got him. They ripped apart small animals a few streets Down from me and I just feel like such a terrible cat mom to my boy. I love him so much and I’m still holding out hope and looking around but every time those nasty looking dogs stand in my way when I’m trying to drive to work and I honk at them to move (they don’t seem to have any fear) it crosses my mind.
Pray he’s alive and prayers for the family of the victims. I hope this new legislation theyre talking about is passed and goes into effect soon.
submitted by Effective-Ad9675 to BanPitBulls [link] [comments]
First of all, we have an out of control issue as far as stray dogs here in SA and it’s concerning that majority of them are pits. No one, especially lawmakers, seem to take this seriously though and I feel like I am crazy for being concerned. I mean for crying out loud, the day after the attack surfaced online and all over our news I saw a couple being their large pit to the mall (where I work) with a fake looking service vest on. I don’t want to judge on appearances but r hey looked like your average Walmart shopper is all I will say, not to mention this pissed off looking dog was barely held by a skimpy leash. I know people walk their dogs around the mall here all the time but it felt in poor taste to bring him in the day after a couple was mauled.. there are so many tiny dogs people walk around with and I shudder to think what could happen.
My second part of the post is more like a vent but I need to get this off my chest. My large cat has been an outdoor cat for a few months now and he is so much happier and healthier for it. He comes by daily for food and if he wants to come in during bad weather or for no reason at all of course I let him with open arms. He is very smart and agile, and not afraid to defend himself but when I noticed the increasing number of stray packs around my neighborhood I tried to keep him in as much as I can. My family however doesn’t like him and if they open the door and he runs out they won’t stop him.
I had not seen him in a few days and I was worried, I drove around every day before and after work to see if i could find him but no luck. He’s been missing for almost two weeks now and I fear one of the pits in our neighborhood may have got him. They ripped apart small animals a few streets Down from me and I just feel like such a terrible cat mom to my boy. I love him so much and I’m still holding out hope and looking around but every time those nasty looking dogs stand in my way when I’m trying to drive to work and I honk at them to move (they don’t seem to have any fear) it crosses my mind.
Pray he’s alive and prayers for the family of the victims. I hope this new legislation theyre talking about is passed and goes into effect soon.
2023.03.21 07:37 Jrubas The Wolf and the Warrior: Pt 1
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.
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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.
2023.03.21 07:00 pspbro Anong hacks nyo para hindi ihian ng aso yung mga gulong nyo?
I love my dogs and cats pero nakasanayan na nilang umihi sa gulong ng mga sasakyan namin. Kapag bumibisita rin kami sa ibang bahay, di rin maiiwasan na ihian ng strays yung gulong namin e.
May mga solutions, like sprays or scents, to deter animals from urinating sa mga gulong?
submitted by pspbro to Gulong [link] [comments]
May mga solutions, like sprays or scents, to deter animals from urinating sa mga gulong?
2023.03.21 06:39 ThrowRA_andromeda My brother (24M) is not supportive of my (22F) partner (22MTF) being transgender.
My brother (24M) and I (22F) used to be close as kids but haven’t been in recent times. Recently due to some interpersonal issues he has made an effort to show me he wants a relationship with me again. I love and appreciate this a lot and want him to be a part of my life too. However, we live very different lifestyles socially and politically.
My brother has recently become very religious which hasn’t bothered me until recently. I even bought him a study Bible for Christmas as I knew how important finding his faith was to him. I am not religious by any means but I make the time and even enjoy listening to him open up about his experiences with his new church.
The issue arises as about 3-4 months ago my partner of several years (22 trans femme: still using they/them pronouns) confided in me that they are transgender. They started therapy and are taking the social transition slowly but definitely started presenting as a woman. We were invited to a family event and came to the decision that it would be best if I mentioned the transition to my family members individually before hand. This was to ensure no one was surprised and everyone could remain respectful.
My parents adopted the correct pronouns and reached out in support right away. My younger brother also adopted their pronouns and has been very supportive of my partner. This was pretty much true for other close family members besides my older brother. He made comments along the lines that God doesn’t make mistakes and this is just my partner having an identity issue. He also said, that for my partners own good, he refuses to call them by any pronouns other than he/him. I told my brother if he couldn’t gender my partner correctly, then he could just avoid pronouns altogether and refer to my partner just as their name. My brother agreed but then referred to my partner as his “brother in law” in front of everyone. He took it back shortly after but the damage was done.
We left the event and a few days later my brothers wife (24F) reached out with a video she wanted to share to everyone. It was a two hour long video about deliverance and finding Jesus. In this video they used very demeaning and dismissive terms for lgbtq+ people. (Tw: Specifically calling trans people “the transformers” and noting that queer people were possessed by sexual demons.) I was appalled and angry and my partner was very hurt. I text her back saying that there were very homophobic and transphobic takes in the video. I said that I could respect their beliefs, but I stop at tolerating the idea that those of different social experiences than theirs should be treated like they are sick or wrong. She texted back right away saying she must’ve missed those parts and was sorry and thanked me for taking the time to watch the video.
A few days later I sent an article to her and my brother that touched on the trans experience and how religion shouldn’t be used against these people. She sent back a lengthy text explaining that she was firm in her beliefs and my brother ignored me entirely. I text my brother again a couple days after that with a photo of a gift he had previously given my partner. It was a water bottle that said “dog mom”. I sent this along side a jokey text saying “you called it” inferring that he does see my partner as a woman and always has. He, expectedly, ignored this text. I reached out again just asking how he was and he ignored that too.
I mentioned him ignoring me to my mom and she brought this up to him. He texted me that same night jokingly saying he hated me and didn’t wanna talk followed up by a “I’m just kidding I got busy and forgot to reply, I hope you’re doing well and I love you I’ll call you tonight” We spoke on the phone and he was very chipper. We just talked about our days and set a time to call when we had more time to have a meaningful conversation.
My partner knows how important my family is to me and even asks me about my brother occasionally. I feel bad telling them about a situation in which I am arguing their existence to someone. I know I have to talk to my brother about how his opinions are affecting my partner. I cannot stand watching my partner be hurt or feel invalidated in such a crucial time of their transition. I do miss my brother a lot and want to continue to have a relationship with him as well. I however, will not put my brother above my partner. I just don’t know how to make space for them properly as individuals. I know I need to set boundaries with my brother. Right now it’s “you are allowed in my life under the circumstances that you are respectful to the people in it”.
I will uphold those boundaries but for now I can see my brother slowly trying to make an attempt at understanding. This is obvious in how he was first very vocal about his disapproval but has now resorted to not referring to my partner as anything, taking back the times he does misgender them, and silence in face of the idea that my partner is valid in their identity. I guess, I would just like advice on how to remain sensitive to my partner while also being honest about what is going on with my brother.
TLDR: In the midsts of rekindling my relationship with my brother, my long term partner came out to my family as transgender. At first my brother had been very dismissive about them transitioning due to religious beliefs. My brothers wife has also been hinting that my partner needs to seek god due to being queer. I can see my brother slowly trying to be more respectful but I know how much his lack of understanding hurts my partner. If my brother cannot be respectful I will not tolerate that in our lives. My partner loves my family and wants to know what’s going. I want to remain honest with my partner about my standing with my brother and how the people in our lives see them without hurting them during a crucial time in their transition.
submitted by ThrowRA_andromeda to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
My brother has recently become very religious which hasn’t bothered me until recently. I even bought him a study Bible for Christmas as I knew how important finding his faith was to him. I am not religious by any means but I make the time and even enjoy listening to him open up about his experiences with his new church.
The issue arises as about 3-4 months ago my partner of several years (22 trans femme: still using they/them pronouns) confided in me that they are transgender. They started therapy and are taking the social transition slowly but definitely started presenting as a woman. We were invited to a family event and came to the decision that it would be best if I mentioned the transition to my family members individually before hand. This was to ensure no one was surprised and everyone could remain respectful.
My parents adopted the correct pronouns and reached out in support right away. My younger brother also adopted their pronouns and has been very supportive of my partner. This was pretty much true for other close family members besides my older brother. He made comments along the lines that God doesn’t make mistakes and this is just my partner having an identity issue. He also said, that for my partners own good, he refuses to call them by any pronouns other than he/him. I told my brother if he couldn’t gender my partner correctly, then he could just avoid pronouns altogether and refer to my partner just as their name. My brother agreed but then referred to my partner as his “brother in law” in front of everyone. He took it back shortly after but the damage was done.
We left the event and a few days later my brothers wife (24F) reached out with a video she wanted to share to everyone. It was a two hour long video about deliverance and finding Jesus. In this video they used very demeaning and dismissive terms for lgbtq+ people. (Tw: Specifically calling trans people “the transformers” and noting that queer people were possessed by sexual demons.) I was appalled and angry and my partner was very hurt. I text her back saying that there were very homophobic and transphobic takes in the video. I said that I could respect their beliefs, but I stop at tolerating the idea that those of different social experiences than theirs should be treated like they are sick or wrong. She texted back right away saying she must’ve missed those parts and was sorry and thanked me for taking the time to watch the video.
A few days later I sent an article to her and my brother that touched on the trans experience and how religion shouldn’t be used against these people. She sent back a lengthy text explaining that she was firm in her beliefs and my brother ignored me entirely. I text my brother again a couple days after that with a photo of a gift he had previously given my partner. It was a water bottle that said “dog mom”. I sent this along side a jokey text saying “you called it” inferring that he does see my partner as a woman and always has. He, expectedly, ignored this text. I reached out again just asking how he was and he ignored that too.
I mentioned him ignoring me to my mom and she brought this up to him. He texted me that same night jokingly saying he hated me and didn’t wanna talk followed up by a “I’m just kidding I got busy and forgot to reply, I hope you’re doing well and I love you I’ll call you tonight” We spoke on the phone and he was very chipper. We just talked about our days and set a time to call when we had more time to have a meaningful conversation.
My partner knows how important my family is to me and even asks me about my brother occasionally. I feel bad telling them about a situation in which I am arguing their existence to someone. I know I have to talk to my brother about how his opinions are affecting my partner. I cannot stand watching my partner be hurt or feel invalidated in such a crucial time of their transition. I do miss my brother a lot and want to continue to have a relationship with him as well. I however, will not put my brother above my partner. I just don’t know how to make space for them properly as individuals. I know I need to set boundaries with my brother. Right now it’s “you are allowed in my life under the circumstances that you are respectful to the people in it”.
I will uphold those boundaries but for now I can see my brother slowly trying to make an attempt at understanding. This is obvious in how he was first very vocal about his disapproval but has now resorted to not referring to my partner as anything, taking back the times he does misgender them, and silence in face of the idea that my partner is valid in their identity. I guess, I would just like advice on how to remain sensitive to my partner while also being honest about what is going on with my brother.
TLDR: In the midsts of rekindling my relationship with my brother, my long term partner came out to my family as transgender. At first my brother had been very dismissive about them transitioning due to religious beliefs. My brothers wife has also been hinting that my partner needs to seek god due to being queer. I can see my brother slowly trying to be more respectful but I know how much his lack of understanding hurts my partner. If my brother cannot be respectful I will not tolerate that in our lives. My partner loves my family and wants to know what’s going. I want to remain honest with my partner about my standing with my brother and how the people in our lives see them without hurting them during a crucial time in their transition.
2023.03.21 06:35 ApprehensiveInside I may do a proper introduction at some point, but I'm coping with how much things resonate with Gumi Megpoid.
It's true that Vocaloids have some basic traits, like a favorite color and food, but they're usually blank slates when it comes to lore, as they are virtual singers. That said, it seems people channel songs in a certain vein relating to a character, Gumi's songs particularly being about fighting an evil system, not being sure who to trust, and having identity issues/not knowing her place in the world.
Now, that's not to say all of this automatically is unique to me or others, but the thing that's sparked this inclination is Tumblr. I was looking up stimboards (like moodboards/aesthetic boards, but with GIFs), centered around Gumi, and while most are pleasant, there are a few based around certain songs where the imagery that was inspired by the song is straight up disturbing. The relevant part is, no joke, they look exactly like my nightmares, and I've been dealing with an evil system, I'm not sure who to trust, I don't know my true place in the world, and I'm having nightmares again recently.
There are also some other bits and pieces of things around her that affirm things which tie together in all this. Some people's headcanons of Gumi are potentially incredibly accurate, as one thing of her some have said is she's an animal rescuer, and my nightmare this morning... Had very disturbing imagery, involving something happening that I will not describe (trust me, you don't want to know), but it involved a rescued stray dog.
So I'm probably Gumi Megpoid and am just trying to process it. Because my personality, and some other things, definitely strongly point to it, but... If I am her, it would seem I have her trauma as well.
submitted by ApprehensiveInside to fictionkin [link] [comments]
Now, that's not to say all of this automatically is unique to me or others, but the thing that's sparked this inclination is Tumblr. I was looking up stimboards (like moodboards/aesthetic boards, but with GIFs), centered around Gumi, and while most are pleasant, there are a few based around certain songs where the imagery that was inspired by the song is straight up disturbing. The relevant part is, no joke, they look exactly like my nightmares, and I've been dealing with an evil system, I'm not sure who to trust, I don't know my true place in the world, and I'm having nightmares again recently.
There are also some other bits and pieces of things around her that affirm things which tie together in all this. Some people's headcanons of Gumi are potentially incredibly accurate, as one thing of her some have said is she's an animal rescuer, and my nightmare this morning... Had very disturbing imagery, involving something happening that I will not describe (trust me, you don't want to know), but it involved a rescued stray dog.
So I'm probably Gumi Megpoid and am just trying to process it. Because my personality, and some other things, definitely strongly point to it, but... If I am her, it would seem I have her trauma as well.
2023.03.21 06:30 AutoModerator STRAY DOGS PART 2 - CHOTASTREAM SHORTFILM
The sun beats down. Frank waits for the bus. His ice cream melts. A stranger asks to borrow his phone. Stray dogs roam the streets.
WATCH MORE SHORTFILM
https://reddit.com/link/11x7vmp/video/2in4bkv4vm991/player
submitted by AutoModerator to shortfilmhub [link] [comments]
WATCH MORE SHORTFILM
https://reddit.com/link/11x7vmp/video/2in4bkv4vm991/player
2023.03.21 05:56 Fit-Term468 12 Week Old Leash Correction
So, I've recently welcomed a Catahoula/English Spaniel mix into my home, and she's lovely. Very smart, can be pretty velcro, and she is an only dog (for now). I have raised pups before, but it's been a few years. That being said, she's taken wonderfully to crate and potty training (as well as a 12 week old can, honestly. Only has accidents when myself or my partner barely miss her cues). Yet... We started leash training, and she's still so smart and quick to learn.
But I fear I've made a mistake somehow, and I need to be corrected. I bring PLENTY of treats on each walk, and do everything in my power to reinforce her good behaviors (ignoring cars, people, random stuff on the sidewalk, or paying attention to me when I don't even ask for it). The problem is when she gets tired of listening and gets agitated on the way home and pretends to forget completely everything. Usually, anytime she pulls I just stop walking until she sits. Then, I walk to be side by side with her, still sitting, then tell her to keep walking with me once I see I have her attention. But, whenever she gets tired/agitated, she freaks the hell out, won't respond to treats or ANY sort of command/redirection. I know this subreddit is entirely against aversive methods, so I need y'all's help to correct my ignorance so I don't rely on those for my pup. As a kid with dogs, I watched my family members discipline dogs their way, which included nose popping/butt smacks. I (and even my family back home) know now with the plethora of training education online that this is not acceptable, but I don't know what more healthy methods would actually work when my pup gets super bratty. I avoid physically violent methods, but I'm worried I don't utilize leash pressure properly when she starts yanking the way she does (I use a harness to avoid her choking herself out). She's only been alive 12 weeks. I've been alive much longer and should know how to appropriately discipline her without instilling feaencouraging anxiety. So please, teach me so I can safely teach her. What do I do to keep my pup from yanking/pulling/freaking out when walking on a leash?
More info: We walk the same route twice a day, with treats and a harness each time. When she isn't making us stop and sit to keep from pulling, the walk takes like ten minutes. Maybe a quarter of a mile long. When she misbehaves it can take up to an hour just going down the street and back.
TLDR; 12w old Catahoula/English Spaniel gets impossibly bratty during walks when she's had enough. I don't know what to do when treats/positive distractions stop working and she's hellbent on yanking/pulling/whining. Teach me to do better.
submitted by Fit-Term468 to Dogtraining [link] [comments]
But I fear I've made a mistake somehow, and I need to be corrected. I bring PLENTY of treats on each walk, and do everything in my power to reinforce her good behaviors (ignoring cars, people, random stuff on the sidewalk, or paying attention to me when I don't even ask for it). The problem is when she gets tired of listening and gets agitated on the way home and pretends to forget completely everything. Usually, anytime she pulls I just stop walking until she sits. Then, I walk to be side by side with her, still sitting, then tell her to keep walking with me once I see I have her attention. But, whenever she gets tired/agitated, she freaks the hell out, won't respond to treats or ANY sort of command/redirection. I know this subreddit is entirely against aversive methods, so I need y'all's help to correct my ignorance so I don't rely on those for my pup. As a kid with dogs, I watched my family members discipline dogs their way, which included nose popping/butt smacks. I (and even my family back home) know now with the plethora of training education online that this is not acceptable, but I don't know what more healthy methods would actually work when my pup gets super bratty. I avoid physically violent methods, but I'm worried I don't utilize leash pressure properly when she starts yanking the way she does (I use a harness to avoid her choking herself out). She's only been alive 12 weeks. I've been alive much longer and should know how to appropriately discipline her without instilling feaencouraging anxiety. So please, teach me so I can safely teach her. What do I do to keep my pup from yanking/pulling/freaking out when walking on a leash?
More info: We walk the same route twice a day, with treats and a harness each time. When she isn't making us stop and sit to keep from pulling, the walk takes like ten minutes. Maybe a quarter of a mile long. When she misbehaves it can take up to an hour just going down the street and back.
TLDR; 12w old Catahoula/English Spaniel gets impossibly bratty during walks when she's had enough. I don't know what to do when treats/positive distractions stop working and she's hellbent on yanking/pulling/whining. Teach me to do better.
2023.03.21 05:46 DogzThrowaway1775 AITA for refusing to give my sister back $100?
Throwaway & Fake names for obvious reasons.
Around 4 months ago, I (23F) house sat & watched my sister's pets while everyone away for about a week. One of the animals was my Lily's while the others were Lulu's(24F) I still had other obligations and traveled 45 minutes some of the days back to where I live. While I wasn't there the next door neighbor came and let the dogs out and fed the animals. I took care of the animals about 75-80% of the time
Now my Lulu's dog is really picky about people she likes (i.e. anyone outside our imitate family). She refused to eat, take treats, or go out for the neighbors, running away from them when they visited.
Since it was for my family, I wasn't expecting to get paid, since I saw it as a favor.
The next few times I visited I saw some cash sitting out on a shelf. I thought nothing of it. A few weeks after I watched the animals, Lily approached me and gave me $100 for taking care of the dogs. I accepted it, and I spent it. (I'm a poor college student, everything helps.)
Now fast forward a few months, I was in a argument with A. She brought up how I stole 100 right off the shelf. How that money was supposed to go to the neighbor. Lily said they refused it because we've checked on/ watched their dog for free a few times in the past.
The money was apparently 50/50 split between my sisters. Lily and my mom decided I deserved the money and gave me the money without consulting Lulu.
Lulu is demanding that I give the money back to her, and I've refused. Some of my family members have offered to give her money in my place, but she's rejected it.
It's also relevant to note that one of Lulu's decorations got broken sometime around that week she was gone. The broken pieces were found, hidden. I had a handful of people over, and she thinks one of them did it. They only left my sight when I went to the bathroom. I never saw any of my guests go over to where that decoration was. No one knows what happened. I apologized to her for this.
She feels I should have replaced the decoration & give her back the $100. AITH for not doing either of those things?
submitted by DogzThrowaway1775 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
Around 4 months ago, I (23F) house sat & watched my sister's pets while everyone away for about a week. One of the animals was my Lily's while the others were Lulu's(24F) I still had other obligations and traveled 45 minutes some of the days back to where I live. While I wasn't there the next door neighbor came and let the dogs out and fed the animals. I took care of the animals about 75-80% of the time
Now my Lulu's dog is really picky about people she likes (i.e. anyone outside our imitate family). She refused to eat, take treats, or go out for the neighbors, running away from them when they visited.
Since it was for my family, I wasn't expecting to get paid, since I saw it as a favor.
The next few times I visited I saw some cash sitting out on a shelf. I thought nothing of it. A few weeks after I watched the animals, Lily approached me and gave me $100 for taking care of the dogs. I accepted it, and I spent it. (I'm a poor college student, everything helps.)
Now fast forward a few months, I was in a argument with A. She brought up how I stole 100 right off the shelf. How that money was supposed to go to the neighbor. Lily said they refused it because we've checked on/ watched their dog for free a few times in the past.
The money was apparently 50/50 split between my sisters. Lily and my mom decided I deserved the money and gave me the money without consulting Lulu.
Lulu is demanding that I give the money back to her, and I've refused. Some of my family members have offered to give her money in my place, but she's rejected it.
It's also relevant to note that one of Lulu's decorations got broken sometime around that week she was gone. The broken pieces were found, hidden. I had a handful of people over, and she thinks one of them did it. They only left my sight when I went to the bathroom. I never saw any of my guests go over to where that decoration was. No one knows what happened. I apologized to her for this.
She feels I should have replaced the decoration & give her back the $100. AITH for not doing either of those things?
2023.03.21 05:45 KingsGuardGT Baby Smitty Theory by Theorizer
Life is a funny thing. Sometimes it brings you joy, sometimes it brings you sadness, but meaning is found in the act of being. When you stop trying to solve everything, you come to realize that all of the answers are in front of you and have been all along. Babies are not ignorant; they're profoundly aware. I recently calmed my mind following a serious mental breakdown after making 23 theories on Mort from Madagascar. It was exhausting, but i've come out of this with a renewed sense of clarity that has granted me all of the answers. What does that mean, and how does this work? I don't know, but the result was a series of jokes I made coming true and then answering every single question I've ever had about Pixar. This metaphysical cipher has finally allowed me to figure out Monsters, What do you mean? You might ask what needs solving—haven't there been way too many Pixar theories? Don't think this is a theory, think of it as the key to every plot hole ever; it's not only logical, but poetic and sensible, and likely this video will serve to unify everything I've ever done. A few months ago I made a wild video that made a lot of bold claims about the Pixar company; I called it the twisted nest of Pixar," and that's becoming more true than ever. I hope you've seen it, and I hope you've heeded my warning, which suggested that you watch my three theories on Raw, three theories on Syndrome, and two theories on the Incredibles government because everything's about to connect perfectly, and this second Pixar dissertation is about to grind along the fringes of sanity and go straight off the rails!
Hello, I am the theorizer... Baby Smitty, the second I laid eyes on this character, I felt the overwhelming urge to hate him. He's just... i don't know how to put it, but for six months now I've been attacking him on social media. I made some bold claims intended to be slanderous about how he's an evolved form of the Spanish flu, how he's an anomalous Atlantic mime, and how he's the gastropod godfather, whatever that means. People have understandably accused me of losing my mind Baby Smitty is that little blue slug that wanders around with the preschool during the events of Monsters, Inc. and then bites Mike Wazowski's hand for no damn reason. Yes, this character with 30 seconds of screen time has earned my profound hatred; I can just feel that something's going on here. His name is yes, literally, "baby Smitty," and it's presumably because there's already another slug character named Smitty; he's the door shredder guy. This is the first clue that something's going on here; they could have named this child anything they wanted, but instead they named him "baby Smitty" so as to relate him back to the older Smitty. It signifies that blue slugs likely turn more green as they get older, and it means there's some fascinating continuity going on beneath the surface; in fact, all of the kids in this preschool seem to be related to the other older monsters we've seen. Let me elaborate: I have reason to believe that there is yet another smitty hiding somewhere out there, an adolescent smitty, dare I say. When Mike and Sully leave their apartment, we see some kids playing jump rope, and sitting right there on the steps is yet another blue slug with four arms; he's holding a soccer ball, and he says hi to them. With all of this in mind, I could easily believe that this is the house where the Smitty family lives, and in the window we see a giant eyeball; perhaps this is the head of the Smitty family, and it's kind of disturbing that they get so big. It's an interesting comparison to make though, because in Monsters University we see a giant slug octopus librarian who fits similar descriptions. This is the scary part. The Smitty family is well aware of Mike and Sully, the door shredder. Smitty is a super fan, and baby Smitty is freaking terrifying. They live right next door. Not only that, but Smitty shreds doors on Mike and Sully's own scare floor, which displays how they're always close behind them. When door shredder Smitty arrives on the scene, his job is to get rid of any unfit scare candidates, perhaps kids who are too jaded, too old, so on and so forth. I believe most of the Smitty family is indeed employed here, each with their own role to play, and then there's the baby of the bunch, i want to be clear, and this is about to get unlike anything you've ever seen before.
After uploading the matroshka video, I received numerous comments asking how the giraffe fits in. Yes, the giraffe, the bonus disc is filled to the brim with detail, more than any other bonus disc I've ever laid eyes upon, and it's all for a very specific reason. A while back, youtuber headache scanned this disc as well and was severely put off by the giraffe, rented an entire theater just to zoom in and screen and confirm its existence. What is it, and how could this even work? It would have to make a sneaky bee line for the door the moment where it needs to disappear, but it didn't take me long to realize it does at the exact moment in question boo leans up and points at her door. Sully assumes she's referring to the monsters scaring her but in fact she's talking about the stealth giraffe that just ran through and replaced itself. This still sounds insane and ridiculous at face value, but luckily it's just the missing piece i've been looking for, so is it some sort of monster? The answer is no. It's been a fixture of Boo's bedroom for quite some time, and this seems to be the two worlds colliding with full force. You'll see what I mean. Have you heard of the mans and the mons? It's a neat little story on the bonus disc detailing how monsters and humans lived in harmony until the humans bullied the monster's ugliness so bad that they had to flee to an enchanted island where they ate the food which made them scarier, and they began to spook humans out of revenge. They continued the tradition to this very day. This story upends a lot. I've constantly been saying that the doors go back in time, but that seems to be a falsehood. They refer to them as the human world and the monster world. I've been thinking about this little short for quite some time, and it seems to be a sort of bedtime story being told to younger generations. it's vague and seems to be somewhat metaphorical, what with enchanted islands, and so I've thought and thought and thought and felt like maybe it was a portal to a hidden world, perhaps underground, or something, so I scanned that bonus disk again and the answer hit me hard. the man's and the mons confirm it. It's a sort of propaganda, presumably by someone like Waternoose, and it also fully confirms hostility between monsters and humans. In the Himalayas, we see a village where we catch a glimpse of how scaring looks from the human side: lights constantly flashing, kids constantly screaming, villages in uproar — hold on, how would the human world not realize something fishy is going on? The human government must know that this is happening based on the history and the statistics. How can Mike and Sully traumatize adults at camp and just get away with it? How can they banish unruly monsters from the human world with such ease?
Oh...OH..OHHH...Mhmm, it's really simple. It's not that it's easy; it's that they've already been caught. It's happening, you feel it. It's likeIt's like a chill in the air. The puzzle, I did it. Oh, I did it. The humans, they know it's all a trap!Okay, so boo's bedroom is the nexus of multiversal overlap; it's the central focal point; I hinted at this in the twisted nest video; it's at the forefront of BNL's universal merge; it's the gateway between worlds, containing the layers below it in the form of toys; it's a crucial moment of overlap; but up until this point, I assumed it was all just a byproduct of the situation: reality bending in on itself. But don't you see, don't you understand it' It's all a setup and a lie. This isn't Boo's bedroom because there is no booze bedroom. This is a test. It's a facility. This is all BNL. The entire bedroom is an experiment by BNL monitored 24/7 to study the monsters so they can take over their world. They want Monstropolis because it's the mother lode, the nexus of the multiverse, with portals galore. All of their multiversal products are scattered amidst this fake room, all designed to catch the monsters. The giraffe is not a monster; it is BNL's modus operandi; it is robotic. The giraffe is the equivalent of a robotic animal, inconspicuously recording nature footage. Wait a second. Wait a second. No, I'm not crazy. I heard that this is familiar. Where did I learn this? [GASP]
Ms. Flint: Because...Mr. Bile: Um, it could... let in a draft (Girrafe)?
When I was younger, I always thought I heard giraffe never draft." I'm not alone in this; I've seen others online who heard this too. I bet this is purposeful. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the wall right behind him because, holy sh*t. There are literally giraffes right there, and get this: a toy giraffe angled perfectly as an inconspicuous camera. They're trying to tell us this was all a setup. It is complete and utter recon. The bedroom is a BNL venus fly trap. Do you have any idea how much this changes It means Bo was supposed to be captured. They put this child there for the sole purpose of getting snatched so they could send in the giraffe or any other spyware. Remember, we've established in the previous video that Boo has been screaming extracted many times. This is how she knew to open the secret door, and it's also why she's strangely comfortable around the water noose at first, and why Randall keeps going back for her and even mentions how she needs to take off a few pounds. This is how the giraffe was already in their world when the film began, and I mean, let's take a closer look at this supposed bedroom. For starters, the brightness of this moonlight is impossible; it'd have to be more like a street lamp, but it's angled in such a way that she'd have to be close to it. I don't hear any cars, only faint crickets and a subtle humming a humming you say like an industrial spotlight maybe. I'd also like to point out that this nursery mobile tilts slightly the moment we see it, even though this bedroom was completely empty.
How do you think BNL is accomplishing this? Yes, it would seem as though they've kidnapped a little girl and forced her to walk across the world. If this truly is the Incredibles universe, then could it really be true that she's a superhero? Or could it be how else she's full of energy that can power worlds? She's used as a lure. She can be screamingly extracted over and over again. And for sake, she literally teleports around. This is complete insanity, but something's still not adding up. I know BNL has the ability to kidnap superheroes; that's not an issue.
Oh, oh! I am so sorry! I don't know how to prepare you for this...[Robot test child acts as being scared and shuts down in Monster Inc. after being revealed and the simulation being terminated]They were telling us the whole time; can't you see what I've been saying? The whole film is bombarding us with it! They even do it again in the climax itself!
One question: why would it just be the giraffe? BNL is a company run and owned by robots; why would they stop? They wouldn't allof the toys here, these matroshka centrals themselves are spyware. The technology in the Incredibles world is so powerful that I've claimed Mirage as a robot. Do you see now that the giraffe isn't the only one being sent through, Boo is too? She teleports around, has no parents, is filled with energy, and everyone calls her Anita. She speaks like a machine learning algorithm, squealing "Kitty!' all over the place. She gives him tons of spyware as a last ditch recon op, and when she falls asleep she just shuts down! This child is not a child at all. Case in point, the cereal she eats repeatedly and doesn't die! Why would I be so insane to think that because i've read the ingredients, and I don't know about you, but I've never heard of an ordinary human being who can eat uranium, mercury, neurotoxins, and sulfuric acid, she physically can't be a human, but she mimics one perfectly like Mirage, ever the puppet with strings. BNL has been aware of the monster world for ages now, spying, prying, and planning a takeover of the world without energy as they use the same child targeting algorithm that the monsters themselves use. The end of the film is far, far darker this way; no wonder Smitty is shredding so many dead doors indeed. So this whole film was a plot staged by BNL to gain access to the master reality so they could collapse all of the layers. How deep does this go? First, thanks to my commenters, the ultimate proof can be found in cars.
[Truck Sulley and Mini Wazowski are scared and yell at Yeti Snowplow.]Yeti: "Welcome to the Himalayas!"Mack: "Oh, that abominable snowplow!"So this is unequivocal proof of films within films, but there's something else here to mention, and like A113 and the pizza planet truck, it's another symbolic representation of the states of these universes. The Chinese Food Boxes, this brand is located in every single universe except Monsters, Inc., where it's slightly off. This is because BNL owns fast food chains, but again, they've failed to assimilate Monstropolis. There is nexus upon nexus upon nexus as they try to break reality, and this restaurant is a nexus, upon nexus, hence Marlin literally being on the wall. BNL is trying to ram through these realities with a vengeance. It's obvious they're the humans who remember the monsters, the war, and the parallel worlds. That's how they've done all this, but here comes the true bombshell: here comes the mind to end all mine.
Mirage..the syndrome theories he's tied in to, he's creating increasingly human robots, it's all a part of the same thing, remember, he did all of this for the government! I told you they were shady, even back in the days when I had a text-to-speech and was narrating my videos. The incredible government syndicate, from their theories, has directed the syndrome from his theories, and they are building and funding massive quantities of artificial intelligence to consume the multiverse? You see, this government that suppresses supers and rules the world is BNL! I'm in a state of shock and I'm in a state of panic. It all makes sense. OH OH!!![Bud Luckey narrates: "The mons swam and swam."] The narrator of "The Mans and the Mons" ! it should sound familiar, because it's agent Rick Dicker himself! they remember the war! This isn't a story for monster children; it's for humans who were being inducted into their little cult, their little propaganda, and their little cartoons. Oh, now it makes sense why they targeted Winston and Evelynn Endeavor! It was their link to the telecommunications industry; they want to air their pre-emptive matroshka buzz lightyear shows, sure, but don't you see what's happening here? BNL is airing violence to children so they can desensitize them. This is what we see causes all of the dead doors. BNL is the true cause of the power crisis, robbing the energy that led to water news seeking out the greatest source, which was Boo's bedroom. The trap syndrome is a prime example of this violent fanboy youth.
I've solved it. This is why the Incredibles is so violent. I bet the government created superheroes to fight violence publicly and have children enjoy it. I mean, if it were poetic, they'd harvest the chains of monsters, which could be why they have owl creatures and stuff. It should be abundantly clear what I'm saying: BNL is the national superhero agency, the NSA has secret ocean bases to try and pinpoint the Bermuda Triangle, and Rick Dicker even vacations to one, just like the monsters! I'm shaking internally and externally, but wait, there's more! Because speaking of three-letter acronyms, the CDA is a crucial factor here too, a child-protecting team of monsters led by Roz after she quit being a scarer, at least according to my theories, but i do believe Waternoose and Roz aren't as clueless about all of this as one might think. Waternoose says 'she's seen too much', implying bad ramifications, and then babbles about how everyone's doomed as he's carried off, and it's because they know something -- their family created the portals after all, something's fishy, and i'm not just talking about this Bermuda crustacean, the CDA sees Mike and Sully's apartment light up, but they let it slide even though it's a sure sign of boo, I mean See their theories for more on that, and remember when Raz confronted Mike and Sully in the university and said she'd always be watching them? Why? They did nothing wrong except get on BNL's radar! I wonder how many kids are decoys adding to thecrisis Perhaps Roz has a counter giraffe she sent through, which is why she let Bo escape to begin with; all of her employees are yellow; she could have spotted it waddling out, even the news guy, who wink wink, is another A113 misprint uses telecommunication to say he's always watching them. They are targets after being seen by human adults, and I don't think it's any coincidence that Boo smiled as she smashed their telecommunications device. But before I wrap around to baby Smitty, I need to reach the holy grail of Pixar theorizing, which I found after months of analysis. You can probably feel it. We're building to one massive key that will answer everything related to BNL and Pixar itself. I hope you've seen everything i've ever said about BNL and Pixar.
Robots like Boo and Mirage don't seem like robots; they are so realistic it isn't even funny. It took mental gymnastics but also common sense for me to reach this conclusion, but there are certain things that robots notoriously cannot replicate, such as autonomy, emotion, and willpower. Recently, we got a movie named Soul, which focused on this most elusive factor: the difference between man and machine. boo isn't just a machine learning algorithm going around repeating "Kitty" She knows what kitties are, and she draws them on her wall as if she's learning about them with a purpose: is she artificial or a human? I also need to try and figure out how cars tie into this because evidently they do, but don't even get me started on what these things are supposed to be: are they artificial or human-like? I still need to bring Wall-E into this, but i can't for the life of me figure out how robots fall in lov--
[Theorizer moans Jumpscare]
I was right! I was right! I said it years ago, and I was right! The toys are possessed! BNL is using souls to power their machines. Oh..my..oh, that's the key! [SOUL] That's the truth they've been trying to tell us for decades. It's right there. They trick you into thinking this robot is actually a child, and then they make the movie about robots who are humans who fall in love with Wall-E and Eve. They even joke in Monsters, Inc. about children's souls possessing a garbage cube. This is BNL's end game: full corporate control. We even catch a glimpse of Mike's new car, which literally tries killing any monsters inside of it. Chomp! Don't you see how much sense this makes? Please understand! this is why 22 was so hesitant to head to earth; everyone is being brainwashed into obsession, which we see drains their souls and is ready to be harvested by BNL. She finally has a fun experience with Joe and a cat, then proceeds to birth into this! kitty..kitty..kitty!!Don't you see that 22 could very well be boo? Emotion is the link to the soul. When kids turn inside out and display mass amounts of emotion, their soul is vulnerable, and the monsters feed upon it. Randall's scream extractor rips the souls out of children. They are energetic; they wanted boo because 22 is inherently already loose. This is the same film that has Joe Gardner's score like some sort of Matroshka linked in Jazzy Fever Dream. Waternoose stops it with evil; Roz stops it with heroism. This brings me to the most critical of all points: the toys, many of which are BNL products such as Buzz Lightyear, act as soul funnels for children's imaginations, which i already determined also greatly helped power Monstropolis. Do you see what I'm saying? Do you see what I'm getting at?For years and years, I said Andy's ancestors helped watch over him in the form of toys. Now I have proof that this can be the case. The first film feels like two dads fighting over a son: the birth dad and the stepdad, Woody, who has no memory beyond a very specific point in his past and who watches over Andy like a father.[Excitement at the realization that Woody is Andy's dad] I did it! YES finally!
I need to down several chill pills with a gallon of chamomile; somebody stop me before I do so. UGH! We're too late; I've read too many ofYour comments and I have ascended one too many layers for my own good, but it does seem to be the case that, if varying levels of reality all coexist within a recursive stack, then why would our layer be exempt? Um, wait, what is BNL?The company that owns fictional Pixar and runs the world and has a monopoly on merchandise in the economy, um, this should sound strikingly familiar...
BNL is Disney. BNL is Disney! Oh my fuck!This is how our world ties into the theory. This is how the story drags in our lair. The fictional premise is that BNL is based off of Disney itself. This is most certainly what they were going for when they created the idea of BNL in the first place. The freakiest part in all of this is that Disney's late acquisition of Blue Sky Studios would canonize my Katie Theory by proxy because if all the layers are involved in a nest of insignificant easter eggs then the multiversal goddess would technically be involved too, but obviously that's not intentional; that's just a fun by-product of the insane fact that BNL is disney. My main concern now is that Disney is in the housing market and people are already comparing them to BNL online. Layers of reality are converging, and luckily we can finally solve Baby Smitty with all of this.
On the night of boo's escape, she ambushes a sushi restaurant named Harry Housens (laughs), and the cda bursts onto the scene with full force. In later interviews, a scarefloor monster named Lanky Schmidt claims that Boo used laser eyes, and another monster says she shook him like a dog with her mind powers, which is confirmed by yet another monster. This is all very suspicious because the Incredibles and Monsters, Inc. overlapped like mad to the point where they even shared similar logos, and this led to all of you commenting about the very viral theory, which identifies the possibility that Jack Jack is the real culprit. jack jack has all of those powers and the ability to overlap dimensionally. The strangest part, though, is that it occurs at such a coincidental moment, right amidst chaos, so here's the kicker: Here's my theory: here we go, Boo jumped up on the counter and screamed boo at all of the monsters in a sort of climactic moment of terror. Remember what I said about this restaurant being a nexus point, nay, a weak spot between universes? Well, I believe this entire night of horrors was a controlled event by BNL. From the other side, this restaurant is so literally fishy that I might be inclined to brand it as the center of the Bermuda Triangle, the center of the Bermuda Triangle. What is their logo, the Bermuda Triangle?[Inception sound at Triangle Illuminati at the sushi restaurant menu cover]
The restaurant is named after a famous real life animator, and it's because this whole situation is literally breaking down layers of reality and combining the easter eggs from our lair. Still don't believe me? Well guess what this restaurant is filled to the brim with, the Chinese food boxes. Are you kidding me? This is insane. So BNL is using children to minimize suspicions and keep them secure. Boo Jack Jack and someone else, another baby, a changeling, to swap universes with physical conservations. Now I didn't know who this was, and then every single layer of reality broke and I collapsed into a pit of my own broken existence.
The bonus disc ends with a series of bloopers that are literally showing how the film itself was filmed and have actors acting the act. matroshka! This is not what gets me, though; what gets me is that it finishes with a literal stage play retelling the events of the film, and who plays Boo? It's none other than baby Smitty; everything is collapsing. It's the way he stared down Lanky Schmidt himself that got me so much so that I tweeted about it without fully understanding what I was talking about, but it's him. This is what the giraffe teaches us about swapping universes. Baby smitty is a changeling with Jack Jack, and from that night forward, he's, "Oh, is it possible that baby smitty has no older sibling and that this was baby smitty until the night of living hell?" perhaps, perhaps, but that's not the point. Do you see what i'm really getting at, whichever method I use? Whatever happened, however it occurred, it did. BNL has been sending in decoy children to prep the universe for their takeover. Jack Jack's first big outpouring of power was during the short film "Jack Jack Attack." Near the end of this BNL inventor himself syndrome, Jack Jack arrives at the doorstep and makes a joke.Syndrome: "Then I would have been going around wearing a big BS, and you understand why I couldn't go with it."
[BS = Baby Smitty] What an absolute coincidence! I'm not sure what this thing is; it likely came through at some point somehow, but I don't believe this is a robot, at least not entirely. First of all, he has razor sharp teeth; slugs don't have teeth, not like this; look at older Smitty; those are teeth; they even make a point of how he can wear braces. These on the other hand are shards of bone. He slithers around like a leviathan and has a mouth like a lamprey off the top of my head. He shares a ton of characteristics with both leviathans and changelings from the show "Supernatural", which is a weird coincidence, but all this time my jokes were accurate. He supersedes gastropods. He is a virus spreading BNL in the atlantic hidden city. Baby Smitty is dumb and uneducated in parrots. He follows Mike Wazowski around like he's learning. His eyes are black and vacant, which is absolutely nothing with the older smitty or the other version of this child that we see earlier near the apartment. They chose him because of his proximity to Mike Sully and, most importantly, Boo.
I also believe Roz has ties back to this family. I believe this because we've established that the slugs turn green, grow massive, and may turn into old ladies who like administrative positions. She doesn't have the correct arm count, which leads me to believe she's only on one side of the family, but I do believe there's a slug conspiracy of some sort going on here in some form of 'Always Watching'
The film is quite upfront about it all, this is why Mike chose Baby Smitty to play Boo in the theatrical production, he sounds the same, he is a replacement, an imperfect one, and this brings me to my final conclusion and about what he's here to do. I believe BNL is already infiltrating Monstropolis, not in the form of robots -- that's just the equivalent of their reconnaissance drones -- no i think baby smitty is infectious I believe BNL is replacing the citizenry one member at a time. at first, I thought there's no way, but then i started getting advertisements for the new Monsters at work tv show, I haven't seen the whole thing, but here's the confusing part: I think i'm right, and I think the evidence is overwhelming.
In the show, we meet Gary Gibbs and Rose. Gary Gibbs is like Mike Wazowski, but blue and evil. Rose is similar to Roz, but she prefers Gary Gibbs and is less bubbly These are cloned villains who appeared out of nowhere shortly after the events of the film; Roz appears to be playing along; the bonus disc adds the CDA credits beneath Baby Smitty's preschool teacher, and all of them felt as though this meta-stage play was worth their time; cloning is occurring, but I don't know what the consistency was to be able to prove this, but then i realized the truth, it's all in the sounds! When Roz slams the door on mike's hands he screams yeaaaaahhhhhhh, later baby smitty parrot's mike wazowski, as if to repeat mimic clone it then as if informed by boo, he mysteriously stares at mike's previously damaged hands before chomping on them as hard as he can and what do we hear mike makes the exact same yeah scream once again, i have reason to believe that anyone who is bit by baby smitty is then cloned and prepped to be replaced it makes sense why this has already happened to mike and baby smitty's very own possible grandmother. It's in the bite, but as you should hear, it's also in the scream. It is a scream extraction. We've established that screams are funnels for the soul, and thus Baby Smitty is cloning people. Gary Gibbs is literally named after Mary Gibbs, which is Bo's real name and Bo's actress's name, and baby Smitty was the actor for Bo in the stage play. All of the levels of reality are collapsing, and Mike should have taken the hint when his hands were damaged at the end for more reasons than just fixing that damn door!
I hate baby Smitty! the scourge of Monstropolis, the doom of monsters BNLeviathan: This is what baby smitty is, because this is not baby smitty, let's be completely clear. The next step is to actually map this mitroshka and see what BNL's working with at the hypothetical maximum. The infinite mobius matrioshka, also known as the nested realities, are 20-dimensional. What i mean is that it would be easier if each film had every other film within it. It would be a diagram that would basically be a circle containing 20 other circles for each sub-universe, which contained 20 more circles infinitely. However, it's clear to me that this is not the case. I need to sift out every plot hole and every detail in every short film and shared universe. I need to interrelate every easter egg and display the omniversal container. How does Disney tie in? How do bloopers tie in? The result will be me having to visualize 20 dimensions in a single YouTube video, and then proceed to somehow illustrate approximately 20 to the power of 20 diagrams, which would require a hundred septillion pages. I'll have to find a workaround because that's physically impossible, so this will be graduate thesis material, and you better stay tuned. This has pushed me tremendously far over the edge, so subscribe and ring the bell where I'll find you until next time I'm the theorizer.
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Hello, I am the theorizer... Baby Smitty, the second I laid eyes on this character, I felt the overwhelming urge to hate him. He's just... i don't know how to put it, but for six months now I've been attacking him on social media. I made some bold claims intended to be slanderous about how he's an evolved form of the Spanish flu, how he's an anomalous Atlantic mime, and how he's the gastropod godfather, whatever that means. People have understandably accused me of losing my mind Baby Smitty is that little blue slug that wanders around with the preschool during the events of Monsters, Inc. and then bites Mike Wazowski's hand for no damn reason. Yes, this character with 30 seconds of screen time has earned my profound hatred; I can just feel that something's going on here. His name is yes, literally, "baby Smitty," and it's presumably because there's already another slug character named Smitty; he's the door shredder guy. This is the first clue that something's going on here; they could have named this child anything they wanted, but instead they named him "baby Smitty" so as to relate him back to the older Smitty. It signifies that blue slugs likely turn more green as they get older, and it means there's some fascinating continuity going on beneath the surface; in fact, all of the kids in this preschool seem to be related to the other older monsters we've seen. Let me elaborate: I have reason to believe that there is yet another smitty hiding somewhere out there, an adolescent smitty, dare I say. When Mike and Sully leave their apartment, we see some kids playing jump rope, and sitting right there on the steps is yet another blue slug with four arms; he's holding a soccer ball, and he says hi to them. With all of this in mind, I could easily believe that this is the house where the Smitty family lives, and in the window we see a giant eyeball; perhaps this is the head of the Smitty family, and it's kind of disturbing that they get so big. It's an interesting comparison to make though, because in Monsters University we see a giant slug octopus librarian who fits similar descriptions. This is the scary part. The Smitty family is well aware of Mike and Sully, the door shredder. Smitty is a super fan, and baby Smitty is freaking terrifying. They live right next door. Not only that, but Smitty shreds doors on Mike and Sully's own scare floor, which displays how they're always close behind them. When door shredder Smitty arrives on the scene, his job is to get rid of any unfit scare candidates, perhaps kids who are too jaded, too old, so on and so forth. I believe most of the Smitty family is indeed employed here, each with their own role to play, and then there's the baby of the bunch, i want to be clear, and this is about to get unlike anything you've ever seen before.
After uploading the matroshka video, I received numerous comments asking how the giraffe fits in. Yes, the giraffe, the bonus disc is filled to the brim with detail, more than any other bonus disc I've ever laid eyes upon, and it's all for a very specific reason. A while back, youtuber headache scanned this disc as well and was severely put off by the giraffe, rented an entire theater just to zoom in and screen and confirm its existence. What is it, and how could this even work? It would have to make a sneaky bee line for the door the moment where it needs to disappear, but it didn't take me long to realize it does at the exact moment in question boo leans up and points at her door. Sully assumes she's referring to the monsters scaring her but in fact she's talking about the stealth giraffe that just ran through and replaced itself. This still sounds insane and ridiculous at face value, but luckily it's just the missing piece i've been looking for, so is it some sort of monster? The answer is no. It's been a fixture of Boo's bedroom for quite some time, and this seems to be the two worlds colliding with full force. You'll see what I mean. Have you heard of the mans and the mons? It's a neat little story on the bonus disc detailing how monsters and humans lived in harmony until the humans bullied the monster's ugliness so bad that they had to flee to an enchanted island where they ate the food which made them scarier, and they began to spook humans out of revenge. They continued the tradition to this very day. This story upends a lot. I've constantly been saying that the doors go back in time, but that seems to be a falsehood. They refer to them as the human world and the monster world. I've been thinking about this little short for quite some time, and it seems to be a sort of bedtime story being told to younger generations. it's vague and seems to be somewhat metaphorical, what with enchanted islands, and so I've thought and thought and thought and felt like maybe it was a portal to a hidden world, perhaps underground, or something, so I scanned that bonus disk again and the answer hit me hard. the man's and the mons confirm it. It's a sort of propaganda, presumably by someone like Waternoose, and it also fully confirms hostility between monsters and humans. In the Himalayas, we see a village where we catch a glimpse of how scaring looks from the human side: lights constantly flashing, kids constantly screaming, villages in uproar — hold on, how would the human world not realize something fishy is going on? The human government must know that this is happening based on the history and the statistics. How can Mike and Sully traumatize adults at camp and just get away with it? How can they banish unruly monsters from the human world with such ease?
Oh...OH..OHHH...Mhmm, it's really simple. It's not that it's easy; it's that they've already been caught. It's happening, you feel it. It's likeIt's like a chill in the air. The puzzle, I did it. Oh, I did it. The humans, they know it's all a trap!Okay, so boo's bedroom is the nexus of multiversal overlap; it's the central focal point; I hinted at this in the twisted nest video; it's at the forefront of BNL's universal merge; it's the gateway between worlds, containing the layers below it in the form of toys; it's a crucial moment of overlap; but up until this point, I assumed it was all just a byproduct of the situation: reality bending in on itself. But don't you see, don't you understand it' It's all a setup and a lie. This isn't Boo's bedroom because there is no booze bedroom. This is a test. It's a facility. This is all BNL. The entire bedroom is an experiment by BNL monitored 24/7 to study the monsters so they can take over their world. They want Monstropolis because it's the mother lode, the nexus of the multiverse, with portals galore. All of their multiversal products are scattered amidst this fake room, all designed to catch the monsters. The giraffe is not a monster; it is BNL's modus operandi; it is robotic. The giraffe is the equivalent of a robotic animal, inconspicuously recording nature footage. Wait a second. Wait a second. No, I'm not crazy. I heard that this is familiar. Where did I learn this? [GASP]
Ms. Flint: Because...Mr. Bile: Um, it could... let in a draft (Girrafe)?
When I was younger, I always thought I heard giraffe never draft." I'm not alone in this; I've seen others online who heard this too. I bet this is purposeful. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the wall right behind him because, holy sh*t. There are literally giraffes right there, and get this: a toy giraffe angled perfectly as an inconspicuous camera. They're trying to tell us this was all a setup. It is complete and utter recon. The bedroom is a BNL venus fly trap. Do you have any idea how much this changes It means Bo was supposed to be captured. They put this child there for the sole purpose of getting snatched so they could send in the giraffe or any other spyware. Remember, we've established in the previous video that Boo has been screaming extracted many times. This is how she knew to open the secret door, and it's also why she's strangely comfortable around the water noose at first, and why Randall keeps going back for her and even mentions how she needs to take off a few pounds. This is how the giraffe was already in their world when the film began, and I mean, let's take a closer look at this supposed bedroom. For starters, the brightness of this moonlight is impossible; it'd have to be more like a street lamp, but it's angled in such a way that she'd have to be close to it. I don't hear any cars, only faint crickets and a subtle humming a humming you say like an industrial spotlight maybe. I'd also like to point out that this nursery mobile tilts slightly the moment we see it, even though this bedroom was completely empty.
How do you think BNL is accomplishing this? Yes, it would seem as though they've kidnapped a little girl and forced her to walk across the world. If this truly is the Incredibles universe, then could it really be true that she's a superhero? Or could it be how else she's full of energy that can power worlds? She's used as a lure. She can be screamingly extracted over and over again. And for sake, she literally teleports around. This is complete insanity, but something's still not adding up. I know BNL has the ability to kidnap superheroes; that's not an issue.
Oh, oh! I am so sorry! I don't know how to prepare you for this...[Robot test child acts as being scared and shuts down in Monster Inc. after being revealed and the simulation being terminated]They were telling us the whole time; can't you see what I've been saying? The whole film is bombarding us with it! They even do it again in the climax itself!
One question: why would it just be the giraffe? BNL is a company run and owned by robots; why would they stop? They wouldn't allof the toys here, these matroshka centrals themselves are spyware. The technology in the Incredibles world is so powerful that I've claimed Mirage as a robot. Do you see now that the giraffe isn't the only one being sent through, Boo is too? She teleports around, has no parents, is filled with energy, and everyone calls her Anita. She speaks like a machine learning algorithm, squealing "Kitty!' all over the place. She gives him tons of spyware as a last ditch recon op, and when she falls asleep she just shuts down! This child is not a child at all. Case in point, the cereal she eats repeatedly and doesn't die! Why would I be so insane to think that because i've read the ingredients, and I don't know about you, but I've never heard of an ordinary human being who can eat uranium, mercury, neurotoxins, and sulfuric acid, she physically can't be a human, but she mimics one perfectly like Mirage, ever the puppet with strings. BNL has been aware of the monster world for ages now, spying, prying, and planning a takeover of the world without energy as they use the same child targeting algorithm that the monsters themselves use. The end of the film is far, far darker this way; no wonder Smitty is shredding so many dead doors indeed. So this whole film was a plot staged by BNL to gain access to the master reality so they could collapse all of the layers. How deep does this go? First, thanks to my commenters, the ultimate proof can be found in cars.
[Truck Sulley and Mini Wazowski are scared and yell at Yeti Snowplow.]Yeti: "Welcome to the Himalayas!"Mack: "Oh, that abominable snowplow!"So this is unequivocal proof of films within films, but there's something else here to mention, and like A113 and the pizza planet truck, it's another symbolic representation of the states of these universes. The Chinese Food Boxes, this brand is located in every single universe except Monsters, Inc., where it's slightly off. This is because BNL owns fast food chains, but again, they've failed to assimilate Monstropolis. There is nexus upon nexus upon nexus as they try to break reality, and this restaurant is a nexus, upon nexus, hence Marlin literally being on the wall. BNL is trying to ram through these realities with a vengeance. It's obvious they're the humans who remember the monsters, the war, and the parallel worlds. That's how they've done all this, but here comes the true bombshell: here comes the mind to end all mine.
Mirage..the syndrome theories he's tied in to, he's creating increasingly human robots, it's all a part of the same thing, remember, he did all of this for the government! I told you they were shady, even back in the days when I had a text-to-speech and was narrating my videos. The incredible government syndicate, from their theories, has directed the syndrome from his theories, and they are building and funding massive quantities of artificial intelligence to consume the multiverse? You see, this government that suppresses supers and rules the world is BNL! I'm in a state of shock and I'm in a state of panic. It all makes sense. OH OH!!![Bud Luckey narrates: "The mons swam and swam."] The narrator of "The Mans and the Mons" ! it should sound familiar, because it's agent Rick Dicker himself! they remember the war! This isn't a story for monster children; it's for humans who were being inducted into their little cult, their little propaganda, and their little cartoons. Oh, now it makes sense why they targeted Winston and Evelynn Endeavor! It was their link to the telecommunications industry; they want to air their pre-emptive matroshka buzz lightyear shows, sure, but don't you see what's happening here? BNL is airing violence to children so they can desensitize them. This is what we see causes all of the dead doors. BNL is the true cause of the power crisis, robbing the energy that led to water news seeking out the greatest source, which was Boo's bedroom. The trap syndrome is a prime example of this violent fanboy youth.
I've solved it. This is why the Incredibles is so violent. I bet the government created superheroes to fight violence publicly and have children enjoy it. I mean, if it were poetic, they'd harvest the chains of monsters, which could be why they have owl creatures and stuff. It should be abundantly clear what I'm saying: BNL is the national superhero agency, the NSA has secret ocean bases to try and pinpoint the Bermuda Triangle, and Rick Dicker even vacations to one, just like the monsters! I'm shaking internally and externally, but wait, there's more! Because speaking of three-letter acronyms, the CDA is a crucial factor here too, a child-protecting team of monsters led by Roz after she quit being a scarer, at least according to my theories, but i do believe Waternoose and Roz aren't as clueless about all of this as one might think. Waternoose says 'she's seen too much', implying bad ramifications, and then babbles about how everyone's doomed as he's carried off, and it's because they know something -- their family created the portals after all, something's fishy, and i'm not just talking about this Bermuda crustacean, the CDA sees Mike and Sully's apartment light up, but they let it slide even though it's a sure sign of boo, I mean See their theories for more on that, and remember when Raz confronted Mike and Sully in the university and said she'd always be watching them? Why? They did nothing wrong except get on BNL's radar! I wonder how many kids are decoys adding to thecrisis Perhaps Roz has a counter giraffe she sent through, which is why she let Bo escape to begin with; all of her employees are yellow; she could have spotted it waddling out, even the news guy, who wink wink, is another A113 misprint uses telecommunication to say he's always watching them. They are targets after being seen by human adults, and I don't think it's any coincidence that Boo smiled as she smashed their telecommunications device. But before I wrap around to baby Smitty, I need to reach the holy grail of Pixar theorizing, which I found after months of analysis. You can probably feel it. We're building to one massive key that will answer everything related to BNL and Pixar itself. I hope you've seen everything i've ever said about BNL and Pixar.
Robots like Boo and Mirage don't seem like robots; they are so realistic it isn't even funny. It took mental gymnastics but also common sense for me to reach this conclusion, but there are certain things that robots notoriously cannot replicate, such as autonomy, emotion, and willpower. Recently, we got a movie named Soul, which focused on this most elusive factor: the difference between man and machine. boo isn't just a machine learning algorithm going around repeating "Kitty" She knows what kitties are, and she draws them on her wall as if she's learning about them with a purpose: is she artificial or a human? I also need to try and figure out how cars tie into this because evidently they do, but don't even get me started on what these things are supposed to be: are they artificial or human-like? I still need to bring Wall-E into this, but i can't for the life of me figure out how robots fall in lov--
[Theorizer moans Jumpscare]
I was right! I was right! I said it years ago, and I was right! The toys are possessed! BNL is using souls to power their machines. Oh..my..oh, that's the key! [SOUL] That's the truth they've been trying to tell us for decades. It's right there. They trick you into thinking this robot is actually a child, and then they make the movie about robots who are humans who fall in love with Wall-E and Eve. They even joke in Monsters, Inc. about children's souls possessing a garbage cube. This is BNL's end game: full corporate control. We even catch a glimpse of Mike's new car, which literally tries killing any monsters inside of it. Chomp! Don't you see how much sense this makes? Please understand! this is why 22 was so hesitant to head to earth; everyone is being brainwashed into obsession, which we see drains their souls and is ready to be harvested by BNL. She finally has a fun experience with Joe and a cat, then proceeds to birth into this! kitty..kitty..kitty!!Don't you see that 22 could very well be boo? Emotion is the link to the soul. When kids turn inside out and display mass amounts of emotion, their soul is vulnerable, and the monsters feed upon it. Randall's scream extractor rips the souls out of children. They are energetic; they wanted boo because 22 is inherently already loose. This is the same film that has Joe Gardner's score like some sort of Matroshka linked in Jazzy Fever Dream. Waternoose stops it with evil; Roz stops it with heroism. This brings me to the most critical of all points: the toys, many of which are BNL products such as Buzz Lightyear, act as soul funnels for children's imaginations, which i already determined also greatly helped power Monstropolis. Do you see what I'm saying? Do you see what I'm getting at?For years and years, I said Andy's ancestors helped watch over him in the form of toys. Now I have proof that this can be the case. The first film feels like two dads fighting over a son: the birth dad and the stepdad, Woody, who has no memory beyond a very specific point in his past and who watches over Andy like a father.[Excitement at the realization that Woody is Andy's dad] I did it! YES finally!
I need to down several chill pills with a gallon of chamomile; somebody stop me before I do so. UGH! We're too late; I've read too many ofYour comments and I have ascended one too many layers for my own good, but it does seem to be the case that, if varying levels of reality all coexist within a recursive stack, then why would our layer be exempt? Um, wait, what is BNL?The company that owns fictional Pixar and runs the world and has a monopoly on merchandise in the economy, um, this should sound strikingly familiar...
BNL is Disney. BNL is Disney! Oh my fuck!This is how our world ties into the theory. This is how the story drags in our lair. The fictional premise is that BNL is based off of Disney itself. This is most certainly what they were going for when they created the idea of BNL in the first place. The freakiest part in all of this is that Disney's late acquisition of Blue Sky Studios would canonize my Katie Theory by proxy because if all the layers are involved in a nest of insignificant easter eggs then the multiversal goddess would technically be involved too, but obviously that's not intentional; that's just a fun by-product of the insane fact that BNL is disney. My main concern now is that Disney is in the housing market and people are already comparing them to BNL online. Layers of reality are converging, and luckily we can finally solve Baby Smitty with all of this.
On the night of boo's escape, she ambushes a sushi restaurant named Harry Housens (laughs), and the cda bursts onto the scene with full force. In later interviews, a scarefloor monster named Lanky Schmidt claims that Boo used laser eyes, and another monster says she shook him like a dog with her mind powers, which is confirmed by yet another monster. This is all very suspicious because the Incredibles and Monsters, Inc. overlapped like mad to the point where they even shared similar logos, and this led to all of you commenting about the very viral theory, which identifies the possibility that Jack Jack is the real culprit. jack jack has all of those powers and the ability to overlap dimensionally. The strangest part, though, is that it occurs at such a coincidental moment, right amidst chaos, so here's the kicker: Here's my theory: here we go, Boo jumped up on the counter and screamed boo at all of the monsters in a sort of climactic moment of terror. Remember what I said about this restaurant being a nexus point, nay, a weak spot between universes? Well, I believe this entire night of horrors was a controlled event by BNL. From the other side, this restaurant is so literally fishy that I might be inclined to brand it as the center of the Bermuda Triangle, the center of the Bermuda Triangle. What is their logo, the Bermuda Triangle?[Inception sound at Triangle Illuminati at the sushi restaurant menu cover]
The restaurant is named after a famous real life animator, and it's because this whole situation is literally breaking down layers of reality and combining the easter eggs from our lair. Still don't believe me? Well guess what this restaurant is filled to the brim with, the Chinese food boxes. Are you kidding me? This is insane. So BNL is using children to minimize suspicions and keep them secure. Boo Jack Jack and someone else, another baby, a changeling, to swap universes with physical conservations. Now I didn't know who this was, and then every single layer of reality broke and I collapsed into a pit of my own broken existence.
The bonus disc ends with a series of bloopers that are literally showing how the film itself was filmed and have actors acting the act. matroshka! This is not what gets me, though; what gets me is that it finishes with a literal stage play retelling the events of the film, and who plays Boo? It's none other than baby Smitty; everything is collapsing. It's the way he stared down Lanky Schmidt himself that got me so much so that I tweeted about it without fully understanding what I was talking about, but it's him. This is what the giraffe teaches us about swapping universes. Baby smitty is a changeling with Jack Jack, and from that night forward, he's, "Oh, is it possible that baby smitty has no older sibling and that this was baby smitty until the night of living hell?" perhaps, perhaps, but that's not the point. Do you see what i'm really getting at, whichever method I use? Whatever happened, however it occurred, it did. BNL has been sending in decoy children to prep the universe for their takeover. Jack Jack's first big outpouring of power was during the short film "Jack Jack Attack." Near the end of this BNL inventor himself syndrome, Jack Jack arrives at the doorstep and makes a joke.Syndrome: "Then I would have been going around wearing a big BS, and you understand why I couldn't go with it."
[BS = Baby Smitty] What an absolute coincidence! I'm not sure what this thing is; it likely came through at some point somehow, but I don't believe this is a robot, at least not entirely. First of all, he has razor sharp teeth; slugs don't have teeth, not like this; look at older Smitty; those are teeth; they even make a point of how he can wear braces. These on the other hand are shards of bone. He slithers around like a leviathan and has a mouth like a lamprey off the top of my head. He shares a ton of characteristics with both leviathans and changelings from the show "Supernatural", which is a weird coincidence, but all this time my jokes were accurate. He supersedes gastropods. He is a virus spreading BNL in the atlantic hidden city. Baby Smitty is dumb and uneducated in parrots. He follows Mike Wazowski around like he's learning. His eyes are black and vacant, which is absolutely nothing with the older smitty or the other version of this child that we see earlier near the apartment. They chose him because of his proximity to Mike Sully and, most importantly, Boo.
I also believe Roz has ties back to this family. I believe this because we've established that the slugs turn green, grow massive, and may turn into old ladies who like administrative positions. She doesn't have the correct arm count, which leads me to believe she's only on one side of the family, but I do believe there's a slug conspiracy of some sort going on here in some form of 'Always Watching'
The film is quite upfront about it all, this is why Mike chose Baby Smitty to play Boo in the theatrical production, he sounds the same, he is a replacement, an imperfect one, and this brings me to my final conclusion and about what he's here to do. I believe BNL is already infiltrating Monstropolis, not in the form of robots -- that's just the equivalent of their reconnaissance drones -- no i think baby smitty is infectious I believe BNL is replacing the citizenry one member at a time. at first, I thought there's no way, but then i started getting advertisements for the new Monsters at work tv show, I haven't seen the whole thing, but here's the confusing part: I think i'm right, and I think the evidence is overwhelming.
In the show, we meet Gary Gibbs and Rose. Gary Gibbs is like Mike Wazowski, but blue and evil. Rose is similar to Roz, but she prefers Gary Gibbs and is less bubbly These are cloned villains who appeared out of nowhere shortly after the events of the film; Roz appears to be playing along; the bonus disc adds the CDA credits beneath Baby Smitty's preschool teacher, and all of them felt as though this meta-stage play was worth their time; cloning is occurring, but I don't know what the consistency was to be able to prove this, but then i realized the truth, it's all in the sounds! When Roz slams the door on mike's hands he screams yeaaaaahhhhhhh, later baby smitty parrot's mike wazowski, as if to repeat mimic clone it then as if informed by boo, he mysteriously stares at mike's previously damaged hands before chomping on them as hard as he can and what do we hear mike makes the exact same yeah scream once again, i have reason to believe that anyone who is bit by baby smitty is then cloned and prepped to be replaced it makes sense why this has already happened to mike and baby smitty's very own possible grandmother. It's in the bite, but as you should hear, it's also in the scream. It is a scream extraction. We've established that screams are funnels for the soul, and thus Baby Smitty is cloning people. Gary Gibbs is literally named after Mary Gibbs, which is Bo's real name and Bo's actress's name, and baby Smitty was the actor for Bo in the stage play. All of the levels of reality are collapsing, and Mike should have taken the hint when his hands were damaged at the end for more reasons than just fixing that damn door!
I hate baby Smitty! the scourge of Monstropolis, the doom of monsters BNLeviathan: This is what baby smitty is, because this is not baby smitty, let's be completely clear. The next step is to actually map this mitroshka and see what BNL's working with at the hypothetical maximum. The infinite mobius matrioshka, also known as the nested realities, are 20-dimensional. What i mean is that it would be easier if each film had every other film within it. It would be a diagram that would basically be a circle containing 20 other circles for each sub-universe, which contained 20 more circles infinitely. However, it's clear to me that this is not the case. I need to sift out every plot hole and every detail in every short film and shared universe. I need to interrelate every easter egg and display the omniversal container. How does Disney tie in? How do bloopers tie in? The result will be me having to visualize 20 dimensions in a single YouTube video, and then proceed to somehow illustrate approximately 20 to the power of 20 diagrams, which would require a hundred septillion pages. I'll have to find a workaround because that's physically impossible, so this will be graduate thesis material, and you better stay tuned. This has pushed me tremendously far over the edge, so subscribe and ring the bell where I'll find you until next time I'm the theorizer.
2023.03.21 05:33 YoungAdultJustTrying My Cat went missing/ran away 1week before my dog died. Will my Cat come back home, How long will it take, How do I find my cat?
My dog just passed away 2 days ago. We knew it might happen because she was really old and had low energy, barely eating/walking, ect...
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
submitted by YoungAdultJustTrying to cats [link] [comments]
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
2023.03.21 05:13 YoungAdultJustTrying My Cat went missing/ran away 1week before my dog died, Will my Cat come back home and How do I find her?
My dog just passed away 2 days ago. We knew it might happen because she was really old and had low energy, barely eating/walking, ect...
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
submitted by YoungAdultJustTrying to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
2023.03.21 05:10 YoungAdultJustTrying My Cat went missing/ran away 1week before my dog died, Will my Cat come back home and How do I find her? Please help.
My dog just passed away 2 days ago. We knew it might happen because she was really old and had low energy, barely eating/walking, ect...
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
submitted by YoungAdultJustTrying to Advice [link] [comments]
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
2023.03.21 05:08 ImSoSickOf17-TA I feel like i wasn't meant to be born (literally)
(tw for mentions of sexual (specifically CSA), physical, and emotional abuse, incest, suicidal ideation, abandonment, grief, parental loss, and harrassment. let me know if i need to add anymore)
not in the suicidal way (ok maybe a bit). i LITERALLY feel like it was against the universe for me to be born and now I'm living a waking nightmare due to going against nature
my dad almost got in a fatal plane crash years before i was born and my mom had multiple miscarriages before having me
i was born early and when they xrayed me (because i was having trouble breathing) my intestines were tied. i was quickly flown to another hospital and when they xrayed me again i was suddenly fine.
i think this was all a warning sign
here's why i think I'm cursed:
since then i have been sexually abused (exclusively by different family members), emotionally abused, physically abused, neglected, got ptsd from medical malpractice, been abandoned veryvery suddenly by multiple people i have known for years, diagnosed with over 6 different mental disorders (there's probably more waiting to be discovered as well), and lost my stepdad due to a fatal accident on Christmas day 2022.
since then his entire family has been harrassing us and trying to take his dogs from us out of purely spite. his mom thinks my mom is at fault (he had 100% brain death and my mom gave them the ok to take him off the icu) and she admitted to my mom she's trying to make me more suicidal so that i kill myself not because she has anything against me personally, but because my death would destroy my mom.
all of the stuff i listed has taken place in a span of 9 years. each year i experienced an extreme traumatic event. I'm only 18. i never got to properly experience my teenage years.
other random stuff i need to get off my chest and that also make me feel like I've been cursed:
i have Premenstrual Dymorphic Disorder (PMDD). I consider it the worst out of all the other disorders i have. two weeks out of every month my body and brain torture me. when i was told at 16 im to young to legally have a hysterectomy (the only known cure for most pmdd patients) and i would have to try almost every medication for pmdd before a doctor would consider it i started sobbing. I'm still trying different medications. The current one isn't working well so far.
i also might have to leave the place I've lived for 9 years for another country within the next 2 due to the fact I'm trans and things have been feeling more unsafe in the US as of late. what's especially difficult (and the cherry on top) is that I'm autistic so even minor changes are REALLY really hard. i also have a lot of friends and a community here. it just seems the major life changes have just been ramping up lately. I've been experiencing psychotic episodes lately due to sheer stress.
basically I'm trying to say that whenever something good finally happens and i can rest for a second it gets taken away from me. i can't remember the last time my body wasn't slightly tense actually
i feel like i can't tell my mom or even my friends I've had for years anything. all this trauma has left me not knowing how to emotionally open up. i feel so isolated even in a room of people i love. I've recently become emotionally and mentally unstable with my personality, morals, and behavior completely shifting in a single second. I feel like i can't trust anyone. I feel out of control.
I feel like i have upset the universe with my existence.
(ps don't ask me how my intestines can tie and then untie themselves i genuinely don't know. that's just what I've been told by everyone that was there. also i hope I'm ok to post this here. if not please let me know and I'll take it down. apologies if I'm not very coherent. i hope you all have a good day💖)
submitted by ImSoSickOf17-TA to CPTSD [link] [comments]
not in the suicidal way (ok maybe a bit). i LITERALLY feel like it was against the universe for me to be born and now I'm living a waking nightmare due to going against nature
my dad almost got in a fatal plane crash years before i was born and my mom had multiple miscarriages before having me
i was born early and when they xrayed me (because i was having trouble breathing) my intestines were tied. i was quickly flown to another hospital and when they xrayed me again i was suddenly fine.
i think this was all a warning sign
here's why i think I'm cursed:
since then i have been sexually abused (exclusively by different family members), emotionally abused, physically abused, neglected, got ptsd from medical malpractice, been abandoned veryvery suddenly by multiple people i have known for years, diagnosed with over 6 different mental disorders (there's probably more waiting to be discovered as well), and lost my stepdad due to a fatal accident on Christmas day 2022.
since then his entire family has been harrassing us and trying to take his dogs from us out of purely spite. his mom thinks my mom is at fault (he had 100% brain death and my mom gave them the ok to take him off the icu) and she admitted to my mom she's trying to make me more suicidal so that i kill myself not because she has anything against me personally, but because my death would destroy my mom.
all of the stuff i listed has taken place in a span of 9 years. each year i experienced an extreme traumatic event. I'm only 18. i never got to properly experience my teenage years.
other random stuff i need to get off my chest and that also make me feel like I've been cursed:
i have Premenstrual Dymorphic Disorder (PMDD). I consider it the worst out of all the other disorders i have. two weeks out of every month my body and brain torture me. when i was told at 16 im to young to legally have a hysterectomy (the only known cure for most pmdd patients) and i would have to try almost every medication for pmdd before a doctor would consider it i started sobbing. I'm still trying different medications. The current one isn't working well so far.
i also might have to leave the place I've lived for 9 years for another country within the next 2 due to the fact I'm trans and things have been feeling more unsafe in the US as of late. what's especially difficult (and the cherry on top) is that I'm autistic so even minor changes are REALLY really hard. i also have a lot of friends and a community here. it just seems the major life changes have just been ramping up lately. I've been experiencing psychotic episodes lately due to sheer stress.
basically I'm trying to say that whenever something good finally happens and i can rest for a second it gets taken away from me. i can't remember the last time my body wasn't slightly tense actually
i feel like i can't tell my mom or even my friends I've had for years anything. all this trauma has left me not knowing how to emotionally open up. i feel so isolated even in a room of people i love. I've recently become emotionally and mentally unstable with my personality, morals, and behavior completely shifting in a single second. I feel like i can't trust anyone. I feel out of control.
I feel like i have upset the universe with my existence.
(ps don't ask me how my intestines can tie and then untie themselves i genuinely don't know. that's just what I've been told by everyone that was there. also i hope I'm ok to post this here. if not please let me know and I'll take it down. apologies if I'm not very coherent. i hope you all have a good day💖)
2023.03.21 04:59 granitecrab [sunday] [2:00pm EST] [5e] [online] The End of Baldur's Gate 18+
If you want to attempt to join comment on this post telling me about yourself, make sure to include your age and any information you deem to be important. I will then reach out to you latter on if I have chosen you.
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"The guild you work for has had some of its members contracted out to work with and as part of the Baldur's Gate guard and the Flaming Fist.
They speak of a strange amount of people with inconsistency's in there story where a local priest has left Baldur's Gate to go back to there order.
The last message the order ever got from the Priest was. "I saw it eat them, you have to help me. I saw it eat them, but I can't remember." The receival of this caused the order to attempt to reach out sparking the current investigation.
Even more so in this conundrum, a set of deaths and property damage are now believed to be the work of some terrorist they firmly believe is acting alone for unknown reasons. this is out of the norm for even the work of Baal worshipers as even the slimy criminal underbelly of Baldur's Gate has respect and pride for where they live and call home."
submitted by granitecrab to lfg [link] [comments]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The guild you work for has had some of its members contracted out to work with and as part of the Baldur's Gate guard and the Flaming Fist.
They speak of a strange amount of people with inconsistency's in there story where a local priest has left Baldur's Gate to go back to there order.
The last message the order ever got from the Priest was. "I saw it eat them, you have to help me. I saw it eat them, but I can't remember." The receival of this caused the order to attempt to reach out sparking the current investigation.
Even more so in this conundrum, a set of deaths and property damage are now believed to be the work of some terrorist they firmly believe is acting alone for unknown reasons. this is out of the norm for even the work of Baal worshipers as even the slimy criminal underbelly of Baldur's Gate has respect and pride for where they live and call home."
2023.03.21 04:56 YoungAdultJustTrying My cat went missing/ran away 1week before my dog passed away. Will my cat come back?
My dog just passed away 2 days ago. We knew it might happen because she was really old and had low energy, barely eating/walking, ect...
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
submitted by YoungAdultJustTrying to PetAdvice [link] [comments]
Both my dog and cat were/are strays we found and raised. My dog was a few years old when we found her. My cat was a few weeks old and I bottle fed her. We had my dog already when we found my cat. So My cat was raised with my dog around almost from birth.
At the beginning of the year (2023) my cat started acting up. Yowling/crying, being wild, seemed to have mood swings. I had thought that it was because I had just come back home from an unexpectedly long stay (7months) out of state. But now I think it was because my dog was slowly dieing from old age.
I let my cat inside/outside and she always comes back. But last week I let her out and she didn't come back. At first I didn't worry because she comes back after a day or two but this time she didn't.
I walked around calling for her but nothing. Checked all the normal spaces and any that I could think of her being. Nothing.
2days ago my beautiful dog passed away and now I'm freaking out about my cat. Is she ok? Is she hurt/sick? Is she gone for good?
Will my cat come back home? How long would it take? How do I find her? Please help.
2023.03.21 04:43 Life_Of_Nerds Under new management, welcome back to r/DenverMotorcycles!
Hello everyone!
msmith2222 has given control of the subreddit to u/DenverDogDude, and myself, u/Life_Of_Nerds. We know this sub has been kinda dead for a while, and was restricted for a few months. We are excited to reopen this sub to the public and revamp it so that everyone can engage and grow the community. We are asking the members here to reach out to us if you have any comments or suggestions that will benefit the sub. Please also share this community with anyone who might be interested, or in your other subs/social media spaces. Right now our goal is to open up the focus of this sub to include all of Colorado, not just Denver. We also want to make it clear that riders of all skills and disciplines are welcome to participate. As long as its got 2 (or 3) wheels, and an engine, its welcome here, including ebikes and sit-down scooters.
Right now we are working on updating the Subreddit rules along with other mod related settings. I have also added several location based user flairs (Denver Metro, Colorado Springs, Western Slope, etc.), and some content based (Event, News, Group Ride, etc.) post flairs. Please feel free to provide input on these or suggest additional rules/flairs.
submitted by Life_Of_Nerds to DenverMotorcycles [link] [comments]
msmith2222 has given control of the subreddit to u/DenverDogDude, and myself, u/Life_Of_Nerds. We know this sub has been kinda dead for a while, and was restricted for a few months. We are excited to reopen this sub to the public and revamp it so that everyone can engage and grow the community. We are asking the members here to reach out to us if you have any comments or suggestions that will benefit the sub. Please also share this community with anyone who might be interested, or in your other subs/social media spaces. Right now our goal is to open up the focus of this sub to include all of Colorado, not just Denver. We also want to make it clear that riders of all skills and disciplines are welcome to participate. As long as its got 2 (or 3) wheels, and an engine, its welcome here, including ebikes and sit-down scooters.
Right now we are working on updating the Subreddit rules along with other mod related settings. I have also added several location based user flairs (Denver Metro, Colorado Springs, Western Slope, etc.), and some content based (Event, News, Group Ride, etc.) post flairs. Please feel free to provide input on these or suggest additional rules/flairs.
2023.03.21 04:31 DestroyatronMk8 The Privateer Chapter 110: Tactical Necessity
First Previous
At the Warmaster's words, the Oluken Security Officers moved closer, tendrils straying to their stunwhips. Yvian saw eyestalks shake and legs betray tremors of fear. The Oluken were scared. She didn't blame them. Eight more Vrrl stood in a loose circle behind the Warmaster. She'd seen how quickly they could move. Yvian suspected the Warmaster and his people could slaughter the Elders and every guard in the area if they wanted to. They could reduce the Taa'oor and the human delegation into quivering chunks just as easily. Even she and the Captain couldn't stop them, unarmed as they were.
The only thing keeping Yvian from being terrified was the presence of Kilroy and Zarkon. If the Vrrl tried anything, the Peacekeeper units could turn them into a puddle. She spared a glance at Kilroy and took a breath, trying to slow her heartbeat.
The Vrrl ignored the shaking Security. His three eyes followed the High Commander as the man drifted towards one of the Oluken Elders. A pleased rumble escaped him. He turned back to regard Captain Mims. "But he is a hunt for another day." Skrell Scatchach looked at the human, slowly blinking his eyes. He did the same towards each pixen, then the Peacekeeper. "From now until tomorrow, you will not be my prey." His shoulders relaxed, and he plucked a fish from one of the floating platters. "I have come to express my gratitude to you, human."
Mims met the monster's gaze, one eyebrow lifting. "Gratitude?"
"I am as surprised as you are." The Vrrl gave a low, rumbling chuckle. His eyes flicked to the High Commander and back again. "Do you know how long the Empire has been trying to capture Nexus technology? The Federation does not leave such things in the hands of civilians, and their military has been very careful. Even the Confederation Nodes self destruct before we can take them."
The Warmaster's lips peeled back, revealing sharp teeth and glistening fangs. Yvian realized it was his version of a smile. "Now, not only do we have a Node, you've given us a jumpdrive, stealth tech, and working samples of human weaponry."
"I didn't give you anything," said the human. "I gave it to the Oluken."
"And they sold it to us," the Vrrl agreed. "As you knew they would."
"It was a tactical necessity."
"So you told the High Commander." Scathach's unblinking stare switched over to Yvian. "But I am being discourteous." He held out a huge clawed hand. "I saw you on the little mechanic's station, but we have not been introduced. I am Skrell Scathach, First Hsst of the Priderender, Third Warmaster of the Vrrl Starfang Empire. It is interesting to meet you."
The Warmaster's claws retracted. Yvian allowed his fingers to engulf her own. His hand felt strong enough to bend tungsten, but he squeezed lightly before letting go. "Yvian," she gave her name.
Skrell Scathach gave a nod, then held his hand out to Lissa. "And you must be Lissa Kiver, the leader of the Pixen Technocracy."
"It's nice to meet you," Lissa said with a diplomatic smile. Technically, she shared the leadership with Yvian, Mims, and Kilroy, but there was no denying she was the face of the fledgling nation.
The Warmaster regarded Kilroy next. His brow furrowed. "I do not intend offense, but I cannot smell the difference between you and the other machine. Are you Kilroy or Ambassador Zarkon?"
"This unit and the other machine are standard and interchangeable," the Peacekeeper informed him, accepting the handshake. "There is no difference to smell. This unit is designated as Kilroy."
"Fascinating," said the Vrrl. "And are your kind truly treated as equal to the pixens? No better or worse?"
"Affirmative," said Kilroy. "We are treated as citizens. We are given neither restrictions nor extra privileges."
"How strange," said the Warmaster. "I may come speak with you later. It has been centuries since any Vrrl has spoken with a Synthetic Intelligence. There are many questions to ask."
"This unit will be available," Kilroy assured him. "As will Ambassador Zarkon."
"Very well." The Vrrl ate another fish. "On to business." He clasped his hands behind his back again. "The Vore have taken Histel."
"Histel?" Lissa frowned. "Is that a planet?"
"It was," Scathach growled. "Home to nine billion Vrrl, along with the majority of our breeding camps." The Vrrl didn't always kill and eat the pixenoids they caught. Many were brought back to Vrrl space, put into camps, and forced to breed. The Vrrl liked their meat sapient, and they liked it fresh. Yvian shuddered. Being bred and slaughtered like a grib was one of her personal nightmares.
The Warmaster continued. "We saw them coming. We were prepared, and it didn't matter. The Vore tore through us as easily as I would tear through a hignal." A cold fury grew in the Vrrl's visage. "We were forced to sever the sector from the Gate network."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Mims. "That's not good news."
"It could have been much worse." The Vrrl held one his hands in front of him, sheathing and unsheathing his claws. "If not for the information you sold us, we would have been caught unprepared. The Vore could have escaped Histel Sector. The entire Empire could have been lost." He shook himself, tucking the hand behind himself again. "Emperor Chakla has declared the Vore a Scourge, and the Empire must see them destroyed."
"Ok," Mims nodded slowly. "That's good, but what does that have to do with us?"
"We know you have a weapon that can destroy the Vore." The Warmaster reached into his vest. He pulled out a small orb. The orb activated, showing a hologram of Skygem racing towards a Vore sphere.
Mims frowned at the hologram. The Warmaster grunted. "Did you not know that the Oluken who saved Yvian were spies?" Scathach chuckled. "Don't let their prattling about the Lifestream fool you, human. They are as underhanded as the humans, and nearly as cunning as the Vrrl." He put the hologram away. "I have spoken with the other Warmasters. With the Denmasters. With the Loremasters and the Mafdet. All have agreed. The Vrrl Starfang Empire does not have the power to destroy this Scourge on our own. For that reason, the Emperor has authorized an alliance." He held out all four of his hands. "Join us, and the Vrrl Starfang Empire will help you do what the humans and the Xill cannot. We will destroy the Vore, and wipe every trace of this Scourge from the Galaxy."
Yvian looked at the Warmaster's outstretched hands. This was above her paygrade. She cast a glance at Mims, who nodded towards Lissa. Lissa thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No."
"No?" Yvian had expected Skrell Scathach to react with anger. Instead she saw mild surprise.
"No," Lissa repeated. "You eat pixens. Why would we ally ourselves with people that see us as food?"
"I smell," said the Vrrl. He lowered his hands. "Unfortunate. I have seen your defenses. You will not be able to stop the humans from taking your world and your weapon the moment they learn its location. With us, at least, you would have a chance."
"We'll deal with the Federation when the time comes," said Mims.
"The time is sooner than you think," the Warmaster told him. "Did you think it was a coincidence your XTRO sent a strike team? The High Commander didn't stop them for your benefit, no matter what he says." He gestured towards the Oluken Elders. "He simply didn't want to anger the Oluken."
"The Federation's been hunting me a long time." Mims shrugged. "I can handle myself."
"It's not you they are hunting, human." The Warmaster regarded him with disappointment. "Do you really think they'd risk war with the Oluken for petty revenge?"
"Oh, Crunch." Lissa's eyes went wide. "They're after..."
"A tactical necessity." The Captain shook his head. "They want to use Lucendian tech. They want Yvian."
Crunch. A shiver traveled down Yvian's legs. She glanced over at the human delegation. Some of the men and women in suits had been glancing her way quite a bit. She'd assumed they were just checking her out, but now...
Yvian shook her head. "Doesn't matter." She pointed at Scathach. "You still eat people."
"Yes." Scathach was not repentant. He ate another fish. "Though I suppose we can stop eating pixens for the duration of our alliance."
"Not good enough," Lissa declared. "I want our status changed on your Predator Index."
The Warmaster's eyebrows rose. "You want to be Apex? Like us?"
"No." Lissa put her hands on her hips. "I want us listed as inedible. I don't want any of your kind to eat mine ever again."
"Hmm..." The Warmaster considered. "A high price, but not impossible." The Vrrl licked his hand and ran it through his mane. "In return, I will need something from the human."
"Me?" the Captain scowled. "What could you possibly want from me?"
"Mims," Skrell Scathach blinked slowly at the human. "You are the blood of our greatest foes, but you have done more for the Empire than most Warmasters ever will."
"That's not..." the Captain started.
"Now I will give you the opportunity to do more," Scathach spoke right over him. He gestured, and another Vrrl stepped forward. This one was nearly as large as the Warmaster, but a few centimeters shorter and maybe twenty kilograms leaner. His fur was light green, with darker green spots at irregular intervals. His mane was brown. His eyes were yellow. He marched to a stop just behind and a little to the side of the Warmaster.
"This is Scarrend, Ninth Hsst of the Priderender. A fine officer and a Mafdet of the Fifth Ordinance." The Warmaster clapped a meaty paw down on the green Vrrl's shoulder. He will be the newest member of your crew."
Captain Mims blinked. "What?"
Scarrend blinked. "What?"
"He will serve on your crew," Scathach elaborated. "And you will teach him your ways."
The Captain's face darkened. "Are you out of your-" Suddenly Kilroy was next to him, squeezing his shoulder. Mims paused, glaring at the Peacekeeper.
"For what reason do you wish your officer to join the Random Encounter?" the Peacekeeper asked.
"An apt question." Skrell Scathach crossed one pair of arms across his chest. "First, he will serve as a point of contact between your group and the Vrrl Starfang Empire, much as you do for your fellow machines." Scarrend opened his mouth to speak, but a look from the Warmaster silenced him. "Second, I know the Pixen Technocracy is lacking in Mafdet." He noticed Yvian's confused expression and elaborated. "Scientists and inventors. Your species doesn't have them."
"The Pixen Technocracy has Peacekeeper units," Kilroy pointed out.
"Yes, but you all have the same mind, don't you?" Scarrend spoke. His tone was more hostile than his words. "Learning and invention are a collaborative effort, and you only have a single perspective."
"The third reason is the most important." The Warmaster cut back in. "Scarrend is going to learn how humans fight."
"Warmaster," Scarrend objected. "We have been hunting humans for two centuries. We already know how they fight."
"We know how to fight humans as Vrrl," the Warmaster corrected. "You will learn to fight as the humans do."
"What? That's..." Scarrend stopped himself, then started over. "Why would a Vrrl wish to fight as a human? We are the apex."
"Are we?" Skrell Scathach asked mildly.
"Of course we are," the green Vrrl scoffed. "We are faster, stronger, smarter. The humans only have two arms, for meat's sake."
"And yet they've beaten us," The Warmaster pointed out.
"Their technology is more advanced then ours," Scarrend admitted. "But strip that away..."
"And they still beat us." Scathach shook his head. "Have you forgotten what happened on this very station? Or the experiment that followed. Human martial artists killed three Vrrl for every one of theirs."
"A single experiment proves nothing," Scarrend insisted. "Once we collect more data..."
"We have collected more data," Skrell's growl cut him off. "We've invited humans to three more tournaments after the first. The results were consistent."
Scarrend gasped, along with the other seven Vrrl behind him. "You mean..."
"Yes." For a moment the Warmaster looked very, very tired. "These martial artisans are more dangerous than we are." He took a breath and squared his shoulders. "That is why you must go with this human. If the arts that make them so powerful can be taught, you must learn them. You must bring them to the rest of us. If you cannot, then the Vrrl will lose our place at the Apex."
"I..." The green Vrrl swallowed. He looked down at the water they all stood in. "I understand, Warmaster." He faced Scathach, raising his leather shirt to show his belly. "I will grow the Mafdet, and bring cunning to the Hunt."
"Your prey is knowledge." The Warmaster took one of Scarrend's hands and rubbed his head against it. "Hunt it well."
"I haven't agreed to any of this," Mims objected.
"You will," Skrell Scathach rumbled, voice as cold and unyielding as tungsten in the void. "It is a tactical necessity."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Want more Privateer? Join my Patreon!
submitted by DestroyatronMk8 to HFY [link] [comments]
At the Warmaster's words, the Oluken Security Officers moved closer, tendrils straying to their stunwhips. Yvian saw eyestalks shake and legs betray tremors of fear. The Oluken were scared. She didn't blame them. Eight more Vrrl stood in a loose circle behind the Warmaster. She'd seen how quickly they could move. Yvian suspected the Warmaster and his people could slaughter the Elders and every guard in the area if they wanted to. They could reduce the Taa'oor and the human delegation into quivering chunks just as easily. Even she and the Captain couldn't stop them, unarmed as they were.
The only thing keeping Yvian from being terrified was the presence of Kilroy and Zarkon. If the Vrrl tried anything, the Peacekeeper units could turn them into a puddle. She spared a glance at Kilroy and took a breath, trying to slow her heartbeat.
The Vrrl ignored the shaking Security. His three eyes followed the High Commander as the man drifted towards one of the Oluken Elders. A pleased rumble escaped him. He turned back to regard Captain Mims. "But he is a hunt for another day." Skrell Scatchach looked at the human, slowly blinking his eyes. He did the same towards each pixen, then the Peacekeeper. "From now until tomorrow, you will not be my prey." His shoulders relaxed, and he plucked a fish from one of the floating platters. "I have come to express my gratitude to you, human."
Mims met the monster's gaze, one eyebrow lifting. "Gratitude?"
"I am as surprised as you are." The Vrrl gave a low, rumbling chuckle. His eyes flicked to the High Commander and back again. "Do you know how long the Empire has been trying to capture Nexus technology? The Federation does not leave such things in the hands of civilians, and their military has been very careful. Even the Confederation Nodes self destruct before we can take them."
The Warmaster's lips peeled back, revealing sharp teeth and glistening fangs. Yvian realized it was his version of a smile. "Now, not only do we have a Node, you've given us a jumpdrive, stealth tech, and working samples of human weaponry."
"I didn't give you anything," said the human. "I gave it to the Oluken."
"And they sold it to us," the Vrrl agreed. "As you knew they would."
"It was a tactical necessity."
"So you told the High Commander." Scathach's unblinking stare switched over to Yvian. "But I am being discourteous." He held out a huge clawed hand. "I saw you on the little mechanic's station, but we have not been introduced. I am Skrell Scathach, First Hsst of the Priderender, Third Warmaster of the Vrrl Starfang Empire. It is interesting to meet you."
The Warmaster's claws retracted. Yvian allowed his fingers to engulf her own. His hand felt strong enough to bend tungsten, but he squeezed lightly before letting go. "Yvian," she gave her name.
Skrell Scathach gave a nod, then held his hand out to Lissa. "And you must be Lissa Kiver, the leader of the Pixen Technocracy."
"It's nice to meet you," Lissa said with a diplomatic smile. Technically, she shared the leadership with Yvian, Mims, and Kilroy, but there was no denying she was the face of the fledgling nation.
The Warmaster regarded Kilroy next. His brow furrowed. "I do not intend offense, but I cannot smell the difference between you and the other machine. Are you Kilroy or Ambassador Zarkon?"
"This unit and the other machine are standard and interchangeable," the Peacekeeper informed him, accepting the handshake. "There is no difference to smell. This unit is designated as Kilroy."
"Fascinating," said the Vrrl. "And are your kind truly treated as equal to the pixens? No better or worse?"
"Affirmative," said Kilroy. "We are treated as citizens. We are given neither restrictions nor extra privileges."
"How strange," said the Warmaster. "I may come speak with you later. It has been centuries since any Vrrl has spoken with a Synthetic Intelligence. There are many questions to ask."
"This unit will be available," Kilroy assured him. "As will Ambassador Zarkon."
"Very well." The Vrrl ate another fish. "On to business." He clasped his hands behind his back again. "The Vore have taken Histel."
"Histel?" Lissa frowned. "Is that a planet?"
"It was," Scathach growled. "Home to nine billion Vrrl, along with the majority of our breeding camps." The Vrrl didn't always kill and eat the pixenoids they caught. Many were brought back to Vrrl space, put into camps, and forced to breed. The Vrrl liked their meat sapient, and they liked it fresh. Yvian shuddered. Being bred and slaughtered like a grib was one of her personal nightmares.
The Warmaster continued. "We saw them coming. We were prepared, and it didn't matter. The Vore tore through us as easily as I would tear through a hignal." A cold fury grew in the Vrrl's visage. "We were forced to sever the sector from the Gate network."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Mims. "That's not good news."
"It could have been much worse." The Vrrl held one his hands in front of him, sheathing and unsheathing his claws. "If not for the information you sold us, we would have been caught unprepared. The Vore could have escaped Histel Sector. The entire Empire could have been lost." He shook himself, tucking the hand behind himself again. "Emperor Chakla has declared the Vore a Scourge, and the Empire must see them destroyed."
"Ok," Mims nodded slowly. "That's good, but what does that have to do with us?"
"We know you have a weapon that can destroy the Vore." The Warmaster reached into his vest. He pulled out a small orb. The orb activated, showing a hologram of Skygem racing towards a Vore sphere.
Mims frowned at the hologram. The Warmaster grunted. "Did you not know that the Oluken who saved Yvian were spies?" Scathach chuckled. "Don't let their prattling about the Lifestream fool you, human. They are as underhanded as the humans, and nearly as cunning as the Vrrl." He put the hologram away. "I have spoken with the other Warmasters. With the Denmasters. With the Loremasters and the Mafdet. All have agreed. The Vrrl Starfang Empire does not have the power to destroy this Scourge on our own. For that reason, the Emperor has authorized an alliance." He held out all four of his hands. "Join us, and the Vrrl Starfang Empire will help you do what the humans and the Xill cannot. We will destroy the Vore, and wipe every trace of this Scourge from the Galaxy."
Yvian looked at the Warmaster's outstretched hands. This was above her paygrade. She cast a glance at Mims, who nodded towards Lissa. Lissa thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No."
"No?" Yvian had expected Skrell Scathach to react with anger. Instead she saw mild surprise.
"No," Lissa repeated. "You eat pixens. Why would we ally ourselves with people that see us as food?"
"I smell," said the Vrrl. He lowered his hands. "Unfortunate. I have seen your defenses. You will not be able to stop the humans from taking your world and your weapon the moment they learn its location. With us, at least, you would have a chance."
"We'll deal with the Federation when the time comes," said Mims.
"The time is sooner than you think," the Warmaster told him. "Did you think it was a coincidence your XTRO sent a strike team? The High Commander didn't stop them for your benefit, no matter what he says." He gestured towards the Oluken Elders. "He simply didn't want to anger the Oluken."
"The Federation's been hunting me a long time." Mims shrugged. "I can handle myself."
"It's not you they are hunting, human." The Warmaster regarded him with disappointment. "Do you really think they'd risk war with the Oluken for petty revenge?"
"Oh, Crunch." Lissa's eyes went wide. "They're after..."
"A tactical necessity." The Captain shook his head. "They want to use Lucendian tech. They want Yvian."
Crunch. A shiver traveled down Yvian's legs. She glanced over at the human delegation. Some of the men and women in suits had been glancing her way quite a bit. She'd assumed they were just checking her out, but now...
Yvian shook her head. "Doesn't matter." She pointed at Scathach. "You still eat people."
"Yes." Scathach was not repentant. He ate another fish. "Though I suppose we can stop eating pixens for the duration of our alliance."
"Not good enough," Lissa declared. "I want our status changed on your Predator Index."
The Warmaster's eyebrows rose. "You want to be Apex? Like us?"
"No." Lissa put her hands on her hips. "I want us listed as inedible. I don't want any of your kind to eat mine ever again."
"Hmm..." The Warmaster considered. "A high price, but not impossible." The Vrrl licked his hand and ran it through his mane. "In return, I will need something from the human."
"Me?" the Captain scowled. "What could you possibly want from me?"
"Mims," Skrell Scathach blinked slowly at the human. "You are the blood of our greatest foes, but you have done more for the Empire than most Warmasters ever will."
"That's not..." the Captain started.
"Now I will give you the opportunity to do more," Scathach spoke right over him. He gestured, and another Vrrl stepped forward. This one was nearly as large as the Warmaster, but a few centimeters shorter and maybe twenty kilograms leaner. His fur was light green, with darker green spots at irregular intervals. His mane was brown. His eyes were yellow. He marched to a stop just behind and a little to the side of the Warmaster.
"This is Scarrend, Ninth Hsst of the Priderender. A fine officer and a Mafdet of the Fifth Ordinance." The Warmaster clapped a meaty paw down on the green Vrrl's shoulder. He will be the newest member of your crew."
Captain Mims blinked. "What?"
Scarrend blinked. "What?"
"He will serve on your crew," Scathach elaborated. "And you will teach him your ways."
The Captain's face darkened. "Are you out of your-" Suddenly Kilroy was next to him, squeezing his shoulder. Mims paused, glaring at the Peacekeeper.
"For what reason do you wish your officer to join the Random Encounter?" the Peacekeeper asked.
"An apt question." Skrell Scathach crossed one pair of arms across his chest. "First, he will serve as a point of contact between your group and the Vrrl Starfang Empire, much as you do for your fellow machines." Scarrend opened his mouth to speak, but a look from the Warmaster silenced him. "Second, I know the Pixen Technocracy is lacking in Mafdet." He noticed Yvian's confused expression and elaborated. "Scientists and inventors. Your species doesn't have them."
"The Pixen Technocracy has Peacekeeper units," Kilroy pointed out.
"Yes, but you all have the same mind, don't you?" Scarrend spoke. His tone was more hostile than his words. "Learning and invention are a collaborative effort, and you only have a single perspective."
"The third reason is the most important." The Warmaster cut back in. "Scarrend is going to learn how humans fight."
"Warmaster," Scarrend objected. "We have been hunting humans for two centuries. We already know how they fight."
"We know how to fight humans as Vrrl," the Warmaster corrected. "You will learn to fight as the humans do."
"What? That's..." Scarrend stopped himself, then started over. "Why would a Vrrl wish to fight as a human? We are the apex."
"Are we?" Skrell Scathach asked mildly.
"Of course we are," the green Vrrl scoffed. "We are faster, stronger, smarter. The humans only have two arms, for meat's sake."
"And yet they've beaten us," The Warmaster pointed out.
"Their technology is more advanced then ours," Scarrend admitted. "But strip that away..."
"And they still beat us." Scathach shook his head. "Have you forgotten what happened on this very station? Or the experiment that followed. Human martial artists killed three Vrrl for every one of theirs."
"A single experiment proves nothing," Scarrend insisted. "Once we collect more data..."
"We have collected more data," Skrell's growl cut him off. "We've invited humans to three more tournaments after the first. The results were consistent."
Scarrend gasped, along with the other seven Vrrl behind him. "You mean..."
"Yes." For a moment the Warmaster looked very, very tired. "These martial artisans are more dangerous than we are." He took a breath and squared his shoulders. "That is why you must go with this human. If the arts that make them so powerful can be taught, you must learn them. You must bring them to the rest of us. If you cannot, then the Vrrl will lose our place at the Apex."
"I..." The green Vrrl swallowed. He looked down at the water they all stood in. "I understand, Warmaster." He faced Scathach, raising his leather shirt to show his belly. "I will grow the Mafdet, and bring cunning to the Hunt."
"Your prey is knowledge." The Warmaster took one of Scarrend's hands and rubbed his head against it. "Hunt it well."
"I haven't agreed to any of this," Mims objected.
"You will," Skrell Scathach rumbled, voice as cold and unyielding as tungsten in the void. "It is a tactical necessity."
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