Last wala scene Mein body Mein current saa Aa gaya🙇 Hats of too you! ✌️ ✌️. Funny and also emotional. Full package. Eugene: Mississippi Kelsey: ippippism I—ok. 0:45 - Dr Bogan. LOL. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written by me a couple years ago and lost after my old laptop had died on me. Miraculously I managed recently to recover a number of files on that old rig, and decided I wanted to share this story. This story is inspired/based on the Chzo Mythos created by Ben "Yahtzee" Crowshaw for a number of his video games, in particular his most recent "The Consuming Shadow. I have every intention to revise this and expand the short story and better integrate it with Yahtzee's canon based on his older games in the mythos while also exploring other aspects. I'd really appreciate constructive criticism and suggestions. My writing style has changed a bit since this was first written, but I'm always open to ways of expanding my talents. 1 I flailed wildly and threw myself from out of the bed, my voice ringing out and breaking the silence of my dark, tiny motel room. Like so many times before, my slumber was disturbed by visions that rattled me to my very core, and sent my eyes wide and darting, as if expecting to see the very nightmarish horror from my dream standing over me like some kind of medical examiner, observing his patient. My hand felt for the pistol beside the bed, and with sweaty palms I gripped the handle and held it shakily. Was I alone? Where am I? When will it finally get me? A million thoughts seemed to ricochet in my skull, filling my mind with images and worse case scenarios that shot my adrenaline levels through the roof. Only the whirring sound of the fan blades above me broke the returning quiet of that late summer night. The pounding of my heart sent my bare chest heaving, and I could feel my cold sweat trickling down my back. My eyes adjusted after a long moment, staring into the darkness broken only by the dim blue neon light from the motel sign outside; its beams creeping through the window shades. I looked down the length of my arms at the gun, the humble pistol that has proven to be my only true friend in this entire chaotic journey, and a faint, trembling smile came upon me. Before I realized it the barrel was pointed up under my chin, and my finger was squeezing the trigger. \ Click. Empty… I dropped the pistol and walked over towards the small table, flipping up the light switch that turned on the one lamp in the room that work which flooded the small motel room with dingy orange-tinted light. On the table I saw the typewriter, the briefcase, and the bottle of rot-gut whiskey, which I promptly snatched up, spun off the cap and choked down two large gulps. The acrid burn lingered in my throat and ate away at the lining in my gut when it reached there, and proceeded to remain like a burning clump of coal for several minutes. “Im alive, ” I panted hoarsely, “Fuck me Im alive! ” Sleep is pointless now. I never can return to slumber after having a vision, and certainly after nearly taking my own life. A quick shower and another shot of the vile cheap whiskey was enough to restore me back to full consciousness, and after a change into some poorly laundered clothes, I sat at the desk and looked down at my supplies. Everything was in order as usual. The typewriter, an archaic and heavy brute from a bygone era that sat like a lump of black iron in its now open carrying case, the lamplight reflecting dully off its rough surface. Next to it my brown leather briefcase, its surface stamped in calligraphy letters “M. O. O, ” the two Os entwined with each other to look like the infinity symbol. Every time I looked at those letters I was reminded that I was no longer a freelance investigator, but an unaccredited civil servant for the Ministry of Occultism. I turned the briefcase on its side and clicked open its latches, partially to hide the monogram from view, partially to go over my other supplies. For a relatively new case, it squeaks like an old un-oiled metal door. The orange light illuminated my remaining supplies. Inside the largest pocket poked out my notebook, some correspondence from my liaison in the Ministry, clippings from various newspapers, and the black book. A chill ran up my back when I saw the black cloth cover, my mind racing with images of its contents and what they can harbinger. I turned my attention away from that book, unwilling to examine it; my sanity already at its limits for the night, and I dare not consult the runes within. Not yet, at least. In a smaller pocket was spare ammunition, some 9mm rounds, a hallow point I found during my last investigation, and the spent shells of some armor piercing rounds, the dim smell of sulfur wafting out from their hallow cylinders. Quickly, however, my eyes were drawn to the other long cylinder taped into the corner of the case, the off blue liquid shifting inside. I felt for a brief moment the pang of wanting, to rip the syringe out and jab the needle into my arm and numb myself to this insanity. Tentatively, I reached for the needle, a quiver running along my arm… With a solid, woody SMACK I slammed the briefcase shut, pushing it away until it was near the edge of the square table next to the lamp. I slumped into the creaky wooden chair, its vinyl cushion sighing with my bodily shift. The narcotics, the morphine to be precise, was to be used in an emergency. Not for medical reasons, of course, but to numb my straining psyche to the pressing horrors this job has me seek and destroy. I can still remember the first time, my hands shaking, eyes wide and heart racing so fast I was certain it would burst through my chest. What I had seen that day was beyond words to describe, the kind of repugnant sight that would turn a mans hair white and suicidal. I was close. Too close. I had reached into the briefcase for the gun then, to end the vision right then and there, but my trembling hand dislodged the syringe, and I unwillingly pumped a heavy dose of morphine into my wrist. It still surprises me how quickly it takes effect, how almost instantly the body is awash with a sense of weightlessness, the mind clouds over and everything slows down and becomes bright. Suddenly the stark, maddening terror that filled your thoughts of self-destruction becomes irrelevant, along with everything else around you that you would otherwise perceive as a threat; and for a brief, sanity saving period of time, you are truly and utterly care-free about the burdens of the world. Coming down is easy, for the most part, and then follows the strange dry spell, that desperate feeling of being dehydrated, but not of water. Of *it* that devil narcotic born from the humble poppy. The urge to inject the foul substance was not from habitual use; rather the desperate want to be numb, disconnected from fear and anxiety, though however brief. And in these troubling times, these dark days that linger about and cast a gray haze upon the world, can I be held at fault for wanting to not feel afraid, if only for a couple short, beautiful hours? Had it not been for the cost and scarcity of the stuff, I likely would be carrying a whole duffel bag full of morphine with me at all times. Would that I could be so lucky to investigate an overrun pharmacy so that I could help myself! Here, in the dark hours of the early morning that my watch tells to be past four oclock, it becomes very easy for the mind to drift to strange, distant thoughts. That last several nights have been like this, regardless whether I am sleeping in a bed or in the back of the Ministrys car, dark foreboding things creep into my slumber, bringing with them visions of despair and worst. My liaison, Agent T as he prefers to be called, would have me believe that my dreams are visions, glimpses in to the infinite possibilities and outcomes should the worst ever befall mankind, and The Shadow should descend upon the world and consume it. I suppose I cannot deny that, despite how incredulous, even after all I have witnessed and done, there must be some prophecy, something cryptic in these dream visions that I need to take to heart. Agent T certainly would have known all about it. After all, he was the one who instructed me in the dark arts so that I may gird myself for the worst, should it ever come. T was, if I remember right from our first meeting, a troubled man late into his 30s, perhaps early 40s, who bore the countenance of the classic English Gentleman, an air of higher class in his nature that was betrayed by circumstance. His manner of dress, at least from our first and thus far only encounter, was that of grey slacks, white button dress shirt and a black vest, with a dark grey Fedora or Trilby hat crowned above his shoulder length, thin black hair. He was a tall man, too, and though his thin, gangly build implied an awkward clumsiness, he walked with a cat-like grace that made every subtle move seem calculated and preplanned well in advance. Although, I suppose, it is likely that when you are a government agent whose job is to seek out and neutralize threats of a paranormal nature, one has to be quick footed. However, I am keen to suspect that this has always been a part of his character, an ingrained sensibility and manner of being that, if denied to him, would render him a quivering pile of madness and emptiness. I sighed. Again my mind drifts to varied events, some recent, others from years passed to when this whole mess started, at least, when I became involved. Strange to think, really. Back before all this started, before this occult nonsense, I was just a run of the mill family man, working freelance reporting jobs and traveling the world at my leisure, seeing sights and experiences most men would give up an arm and leg to have. My eyes cast a sidelong glance to the small stack of white paper beside the iron behemoth, the pages bearing faded ink of a novel that will yet go unwritten. I can still remember the day I received this typewriter. It was a happier day nearly 6 years passed now, back in my quiet country home in the Pacific Northwest. It was a sunny day, and it was wonderful. That day I came downstairs to find my wife and daughter waiting for me in the den, a large object wrapped crudely in bright blue paper in the fashion only a child can produce, sitting on my desk. I can still hear their voices as they sang to me happy birthday, and how eager my child was for me to unwrap the gift she had gotten me. I remember her saying, “Daddy, promise when you become a famous writer, youll put me and Mommy in your book. ” A tear rolled down my face, and I was back in the room, staring into the pages beside the old iron typewriter with the pink crayon inscription on the side “Love you. ” I mouthed the words silently to myself, and reached for the bottle and readied my poor gullet for another swig. Best not to think of that, I thought; best to repress those memories until the work is done. Ive spent too many hours pining for my family, wanting to go home to them and resume my life as a freelance reporter. But I know, too well, that I cant go back. Not yet. Not while my mind is burdened with…this! This nightmare, this Shadow that I hunt, that I am tasked to eradicate. I cant go back to them yet. Until I am free, permanently, of these visions, night terrors and suicidal thoughts, I must endure alone. I could never live with myself if I exposed my family to this horror. Outside, a low rumble echoes through the dark streets of this no-name burg, followed suit by the soft, then heavy patter of rain. I stood up and glanced out the window, seeing the water strike the windowpanes and fill the room with a new, droning white noise. I give another sigh, this one partially of relief, partially from heartburn from the damned whiskey. The sound of rain was comforting, non-threatening, and always made me smile, even if just so in these strange and unnatural times. As I stood beside the window, the familiar, heart stopping buzz of my cellular vibrates on the table behind me. Its T, I know it is without looking. My personal phone was in my pocket, and there would be no reason why any of my family or friends would send me a text at this hour. Only T would message me, and my blood ran cold whenever I heard or felt the savage vibration of the Ministry phone. T would only message me for one of 3 reasons. The first would be to inform me of a location that requires my attention, usually a nearby town or village thats having unusual or disturbing phenomena. The second, and rarest of the 3, would be when T was drinking too and in the depths of his own mind, facing his demons and trying desperately to reach out to someone, anyone, who would spare a moment to listen. The third reason… I walked over to the phone and picked it up, swiped the screen and read the message. It read: “THE SHADOW HAS TAKEN ANOTHER AGENT, ALONG WITH THE VILLAGE OF. IN THE UK. WE WILL NEED TO TALK SOON. – T. ” I tossed the phone causally onto the unmade bed. The worst of the three options, the one I dread more than the first. The Shadow, that shapeless, abstract nightmare beyond time and space, a veil in which darker, older things hid therein, had taken hold and succeeded. Worst yet, another agent was lost in the field, likely devoured by any one of the various, foul monstrosities the Shadow spawns when it touches our dimension. Like so many, this village would be forgotten, erased from collective minds of the people, as if it never existed, leaving only the vague idea that what dwells in its place is something of danger and worthy of avoidance. All that would be left behind is a black chasm, a nexus from which lesser nightmares would come crawling out. The area would be contained, Ts superiors would see to that, classifying it as a militarized zone to keep the general public away. But it was the last half of his message, “We will need to talk soon, ” that had me worried. There was no doubt in my mind the Ministry would have me deployed to the UK and pick up where the recently deceased agent left off. “Shit, ” I spat, dropping myself onto the vinyl and wood chair, my hands cradling my head with elbows propped onto the table. I was tired, in every sense of the word. The last thing I wanted was to make a long, sleepless trip to England and pick up someone elses investigation, a subject of which, I was certain, T would make sure I was brought up to speed on. In passing conversation when we first met, he had mentioned the UK was rife with paranormal anomalies, and that on routine occasion would have to hunt down and destroy a cult, collect an artifact of eldritch nature, or find some kind of arcane text pertaining to the “Old Ones. ” The Old Ones… A shudder ran through my body, and my thoughts went back to that black book T had given me those years ago. Written in that book was knowledge no man should know. It was a blasphemous knowledge, not the kind that was affront to religious ideologies, but to the very reality we humans cling to, our “placid island of ignorance, amidst black seas of infinity. ” Five names were known to us, five Old Ones who still had their attention pointed towards our humble rock we call home. Five Old Ones, five sigils, five possible harbingers of our worlds destruction. To speak their names aloud was dangerous, to invoke their symbol was to draw their eyes upon you, and to give them foothold in our world was suicide. What few cults that exist devoted to these ancient and befouling daemons are easily the most dangerous people in the world, because it does not matter to them whether they live or die. Of those few cults out there, those pocket cells of fools thinking they will find solace in those eldritch horrors, there was one in five aspects they adopted for themselves. The Diseased. The Mad. The Lustful. The Pained. The Afraid. Its impossible to know what Old One is associated with what aspect, because ever do these aspects change, along with the meaning of their sigils and representative colors. Its maddening to keep track of this shifting information, and every year or so the old collective knowledge of the Old Ones become void. “How do those damn cultists figure this out before we do? ” I muttered, reaching over and running my fingers along the cold iron keys of the typewriter. I shuddered again. Thinking too long or deeply on the subject of the Old Ones was never wise, and certainly not after a recently failed suicide attempt! Thats when my eyes fell back onto the pistol, its black gunmetal sheen dull from routine use and the poor lighting. A roll of thunder rumbled overhead for several long seconds, my eyes transfixed on the gun itself, though in truth I can say I was not seeing it. No, thats not quite right, I w*as seeing it, just not in the now. I was seeing it in my hands, looking down the barrel which pointed towards the darkness ahead of me. My hands were gripping the handle tightly, its wooden grip cutting into my palms as I readied to fire another round into…into… I gasped, brought back to the now. My hands were outstretched as if I were wielding my pistol, my nails digging into my palms and drawing a small line of blood which beaded up and readied itself to trickle down my wrist. My chest was heaving heavily, like a great weight as pressing down on me and stifling my lungs. I could feel my eyes welling up tears, and I promptly blinked them away when I realized I hadnt closed my eyes for several long, frightful moments. The flashbacks were sporadic, and came without warning. T had mentioned it was common that after prolonged exposure to the Shadow Spawn that I would begin having PTSD-like flashbacks of my encounters with them, particularly my first ones. He said that it was likely from a condition called killers remorse, a kind of unconscious guilt from having to take a life, especially a human one. In truth, it made sense, though I didnt want to admit it aloud. A number of the Shadows foul offspring had vague, human-like forms, like disfigured mutants or grotesque amputees that were capable of spewing corrosive bile. And, as I reflected, my first kill looked almost near human, and shortly after exterminating the beast I found myself in a dark corner vomiting for several *minutes. “Remember, they may look human in the most distant sense, but I assure they are the furthest thin*g from us, ” I heard T say in my mind, a call back to that distant conversation from our first meeting y*ears ago. “Take no pity on something that doesnt even understand wha*t pity is. ” I sat back down with a heavy slump and rested my head against the back wall. The rot-gut was terrible at making a man drunk, barely capable of gifting an uncomfortable headache. No, all it was good for was to keep you awake with is rancid burning sensation and hackle-raising taste. I would have to drink nearly 3 bottles of the shit before it could get me proper drunk, the kind where inhibitions are cast away to the four winds and the world cant decide if it wants to lean to the left or the right. Without realizing it I felt the smoothness of the typing paper beneath my hand, and unconsciously pulled a sheet and held it towards my face. The dim light was piss-poor for reading, but I could have told you what was on that topmost page just from touch. Typed in a neat, 1930s-esc bold ink font, read in all capit* ol leaders “THE SHADOWS AROUND US: A TALE OF GHOSTLY * ADVENTURE. ” Below it in regular font, though no less bold from the heavy ink, was my name and a dedication to my family. The title page of my unfinished manuscript, one that I am certain I will never complete, not after learning what I know now. I had fancied myself something of a paranormal buff, someone who saw supposed haunted locations as exciting avenues of adventure and thrilling insight into the unknown. It had been shortly after I had been gifted with the typewriter was a given an assignment by my then publishing agent to stay at a supposedly haunted hotel in Virginia City, Nevada called the Silver Queen. He had mentioned he wanted me to do some light research on the property, talk to the owners and guests, stay a night or two, and write a review about the hotel, dropping snippets of its haunted reputation throughout the article to spur interest. My first night there was, as I can remember, boring as all get out. I was boarded up in the allegedly most haunted room where a prostitute was said to have slit her wrists in the tub and to appear at night lying in the tub or standing over the bed. What I had discovered, that night, was the walls were unbearably thin, the AC unit rattled constantly, and the scariest moment of the night was finding not a dead lady in my tub but two bark scorpions. Though I was inclined to leave and write a scathing article about the hotel and its false advertising, I stayed the next night, purely because I was unwilling to pay for a new room when this one was already paid for by my agent. The following day I explored more of the ghostly mining town in the high Nevada mountains, and found it to have a charming, albeit bloody history of shootings, suicides, accidental deaths, mine collapses, the list goes on. Most of the quaint shops carried books about the history of the town, which I couldnt help but pick up a couple. The next night, I quickly changed my opinion of the hotels haunted status. I was awoken around 2:14 in the morning my the sound of faint crying, that kind of breath-heavy sob a woman in distress makes. At first I had thought perhaps something was going on downstairs in the bar, and quickly dressed and went down to investigate. To my surprise, the bar was closed and empty, with all the stools and chair set atop the wooden tables. I closed my eyes and tried to trace the origin of the crying, thinking maybe it was one of my neighbors having a bad night. I walked quietly back to my room and found my door was ajar, not in the state I would have left it considering I had brought with me a then high-end laptop with me and other valuable electronics. Cautiously, I peered into my room, expecting a thieving housekeeper to be rifling through my luggage. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark of the room, and what I saw next made my heart stop. Inside my room, standing beside the tub with her back turned to me, was the figure of a woman dressed in a white under-dress with dark hair cascading down to her middle back. Her pale arms hung limply at her sides, and I could see dark lines running down from her inner elbow to her wrists. My nostrils were filled with the smell of blood, and I immediately noticed then the blood staining the sides of her dress like inkblots. Slowly I stepped in, but the woman never moved or made a sound. I kept the door open behind me, fearing that this woman may be a local crazy who would attack. I cleared my throat in the way typical to get someones attention without scaring them, and began reaching out towards her with each slow pace. “Maam? ” I asked softly, “Are you okay? How did you get in my room? ” No response. I was less than 5 feet from her, and I decided to hold my ground there. Last thing I wanted was to startle her, in case she was a somnambulist. I let out another “Ahem” just slightly louder, hoping maybe she would take notice then. Still no response, though. At this close distance with the light from the hallway pouring in, I could see clearly she was bleeding from long, gashing cuts into her arms; small pools of blood forming around her bare feet. The sight of the blood sprung me back into movement, and against my better judgment, I reached out and touched her shoulder. My hand felt like it had reached into a cooler of dry ice. I blinked at the sudden chill, and when I opened my eyes, she was gone in a flash. Nothing remained of her, not the pools of blood I clearly saw glistening on the wood floor, not the distinct penny smell of her blood, absolutely no trace or evidence that she had ever been in my room save for the icy chill that clung to my arm. I couldnt move, couldnt blink, couldnt even muster a single thought. In quite literally a fraction of a second, a woman vanished before my eyes! And thats all she wrote. From that day on for the next year, I became a junky for anything related to the paranormal. I began begging my agent for any assignments relating to the subject. Haunted hotels, abandoned apartments, ghost towns, Indian cemeteries; anything and everything paranormal or strange, I wanted to investigate it. Over the course of several months, I traveled all across the US, parts of Canada, Mexico, even to a small island located just within the Bermuda Triangle (I place I highly recommend going to if you want a quiet, peaceful tropical vacation without tourists. And in that time I was shoveling out articles, reviews and essays by the boatload, all of them getting published in occult magazines, travel websites, forums, even to the point where one of my articles was cited in an episode of a well established ghost hunting troupe. Throughout all of these adventures, I was keeping an ever filling journal of entries and experiences, with the intent originally to make them part of memoirs. I hadnt thought too much of becoming a novelist until my wife happened upon the journal and encouraged me to write a horror story based on my experiences. At first I didnt think what I had seen and heard was all that much of a good story, until I began having some vivid dreams about strange creatures behind the hauntings, going so far as to imagine an overarching narrative that would span multiple countries, and the next thing I knew, I was at the typewriter, clicking away at the iron keys. I let out a long sigh as I stared deep into the white paper and black ink. I had maybe one third of the story complete, detailing my own adventures with some sprinkling of fictitious events and elements worthy of H. P. Lovecraft or Poe. The synopsis of the plot, as I had intended, was to have the story focus on a paranormal detective who actively sought out ghosts and other unnatural forces and directly combated them. His travels would see him through real world locations, all the while uncovering small clues and hints at a greater, more nefarious plot on part of some ancient, nameless evil. I had intended to conclude the story with the hero investigating the ruins of some long abandoned European fortress or castle and having him make a selfless sacrifice to prevent that aforementioned evil from invading into our world once and for all. Funny how quickly the phrase “art imitates life” gets inverted, and suddenly I find myself living the nightmare I wrote for my character. I reached for the near empty bottle now, bracing myself for that last, heinous gulp, then downing the cheap whiskey. The last gulp is always the worst. Drinking the last few ounces of this rotten stuff easily akin to drinking pond scum, because somehow it takes on a thicker consistency and becomes exponentially harsher on the pallet and gut, bringing on phlegm filled coughing fit. I can feel my gut churn as the viscous swill finds its way into my core, and without care I cast the bottle towards the small wastepaper basket. It bounces off the rim and lands near the open closet. Still, my eyes trace back to the gun, but my thoughts flashed instead for making a grab at the psyche numbing morphine, to jab that inch long needle into my neck and force every drop of that blue fluid into my bloodstream. I smacked my lips at the prospect, a warning sign of my bodys craving for the foul stuff. I gave my face a solid smack with my hand, hoping to knock some sense back into me, leaving a hot, hand shaped sting across my right cheek. “What the fuck am I doing? ” I mumbled to nobody in particular, rubbing the strike zone with my hand. The rain continued to patter outside against my window and door, occasionally broken by the rumble of thunder rolling across the sky above as if in response. I stepped over towards the window to see the world outside, letting the neon blue motel sign sting my retina for just a moment. From the window the world looked dark and blue lit, with rare streaks of bright white breaking the black clouds before vanishing as quickly as the woman from those years ago in Nevada. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the cold window pane. My shallow breath fogged against the frigid glass. No fog. Thank at least, whatever could be thanked, knowing what I know now...
Some White woman will come out trying to sing exactly like this within the next few years. They always copy us. This happened in my first year of university in the UK, which was quite a while ago, but it's still one of my hottest memories. My girlfriend at the time was this real cute little welsh girl with an adorable accent, big dreamy fuck-me eyes and a body to die for. She was slim and petite but had a great round ass, long legs and beautiful big tits, round and perky with perfect little nipples that jumped up at the lightest touch or tickle. On this particular evening, she had gone out with her girl friends from her halls of residence to celebrate one of their birthday's. I was also heading out for some relaxed late-night drinks with some guys from my course. The the center of the town where the university was located was quite compact, and most of the popular nightlife spots where pretty close to each other. As we were walking into town, we'd been messaging each other pretty regularly, telling each other our plans and how our night was going. As it turned out, the bar I was going to was just down the road from the club she was in, and I'd be passing right by on the way, so I told her to come out front to the smoking patio and say hello. I knew she would be dressed looking hot and I kinda wanted to show her off a little to the guys. She looked amazing. Even from a distance I could pick her out with her long dark hair and killer body. It was her friends birthday, and she had gone all out. Her make up was perfect and highlighted here beautiful, delicate features, while classic red lipstick made her plump lips stand out enticingly. She was dressed in a little tight short skirt that perfectly framed her amazing ass, with high heels that accentuated the beautiful shape of her legs. Her tight, low cut top gave an amazing view of her rack, which as always looked perky and perfect and capable of inducing uncontrollable drooling from any straight guy in the vicinity. I could see her nipples poking teasingly through the fabric of her shirt and since it was a warm, late-summer night, I knew that meant she was a little horny. She was clearly a little drunk and had this naughty look in her eyes. As I leaned over the railing to give her a hug and kiss, her hand came over and immediately clamped onto my crotch. She swung her other arm around my neck and gave me a deep, long kiss on the lips, then murmured into my ear "God damn, I wanna suck your cock. rubbing hard as she said it. For a second I wondered if any of the guys had seen what had just happened; the doorman standing a couple of feet way definitely had, and heard it too. Any feeling of embarrassment was immediately replaced by extreme arousal, as she whispered again "let me suck your cock. Her dusky, sexy voice and cute accent lingered on the words and sent a shiver down my neck, which she kissed lightly as she spoke. In that moment, I'm certain that every ounce of blood in my body began rushing towards my genitals and immediately I was semi-hard. She felt my cock stiffen through my pants and gave me a real naughty 'fuck me' look. I knew from having tried several times already that there was no way we'd get away with doing anything in this particular club. Frankly it was hard to keep my hands off her whenever we were out together, but there were no good discreet spots in this club and the staff definitely did not tolerate that kind of behavior. I was so turned on but I knew I couldn't come inside and my mind immediately started racing. I told the guys not to wait up and that I was just gonna stay and chat with my girl for a moment. The bar we were headed to was just a few buildings down the road and they were all keen for a drink. Once they were out of ear shot, I turned back to her and said "get out here and come with me. She didn't miss a beat. Without even stopping to say anything to her friends, she trotted inside, got her hand stamped for re-entry by the door staff, telling them she was just going to get cash out, and in a couple of minute she was outside with her arms around my neck and her tongue in my mouth. I took her by the hand and started walking fast. There weren't many discreet non-public spots in town, but I did know of one place where I was sure we wouldn't be seen. There was a little church yard just around the corner, with a little gate that gave access to a shaded grassy patch behind the church, away from the main road. It was kind of a creepy spot, and probably a little inappropriate, being a place of worship and all, but there weren't any graves in the yard and frankly, I was to turned on to care. There wasn't much behind the church and the yard didn't lead to anywhere, so it wasn't the kind of place people would be passing through at this time of night, which made it the only decent lace in the area for what I had in mind. As we walked she giggled and continued to tease me, fondling my cock through my trousers. I had my hand clamped on her plump ass, occasionally slipping up her short skirt to stroke her warm pussy through her soft panties. I hoped to hell that there would be nobody around the church and that we'd be left alone as I struggled to conceal now raging hard-on. We slipped through the old iron gate and I knew we were in luck. There wasn't a soul around and it was quiet, dark enough to give a little concealment, but still well lit enough from surrounding buildings that you could see what you were doing. As soon as we were behind the church and out of sight, she dropped straight to her knees on the grass and began tugging at my belt. I lifted my shirt and undid my belt and my cock sprang to attention as she peeled my underwear down. She immediately set to work giving me a truly eye-rolling, mind numbing blow job. It's hard to describe just how amazing it felt, but believe me when I say, it was good. She sucked hard and slow at the head of my cock as she worked her hand around the shaft. I could feel her tongue piercing brushing around the sensitive skin under my cock, making the sensation all the more intense. She pursed her soft lips into that perfect tight 'o' and sucked slowly up and down the length of my cock, clearly enjoying the taste of my pre-cum and the sensation of my cock throbbing in her mouth. Gazing up at me, she took my whole length deep into her throat, then pulled away, using her own spit as lubricant to jerk my cock hard as she licked and sucked on my balls. I have to admit, i didn't last long. Between her phenomenal sucking skills and the sick thrill of fucking in public and potentially getting caught, I was ready to blow. My balls tightened and I could feel my heartbeat in my crotch and I knew I was about to have an intense orgasm. She knew it too and continued to suck hard, using her hand as well as her mouth to jerk my throbbing cock as I shot a huge load into her mouth. It seemed to go on forever, my whole body going numb and my cock pulsating as it shot rope after rope of thick cum into the back of her throat. As the orgasm subsided and I regained my breath, she continued to suck gently, gazing up at me with those dreamy eyes. When she was confident I was done, she let go of my cock and grinned, before opening her mouth to show me my thick cum on her tongue. With giggle, she took a gulp and swallowed the whole load. She always told me she loved the taste and feel of cum and she always swallowed. Regaining my composure, I struggled to put my dick away and watched as she stood up and rearranged her outfit. Thankfully, she wasn't wearing tights, so there weren't obvious green stains from the grass, but her knees were still filthy. We laughed as we realized that without a proper wash with water, there was no way she was going to be able to fully wash the mud off her knees. She did the best she could, but between that and her now ruffled, messy hair, it probably wouldn't take much for someone to figure out exactly what we'd been up to. We did our best to make ourselves presentable as I escorted her back to the club, kissing and saying good bye at the door. The doorman who had spotted us earlier took one look at her and gave us both a knowing smirk, but said nothing and let her back inside. Dazed and drained, I stumbled down to the bar where my friends were already a couple of drinks deep, and grabbed myself a beer. Despite a chorus of questioning looks and "where have you beens" I managed to mumble some excuse for my absence and tried to brush the subject aside as I rejoined the group. One of my flatmates turned to me and commented "you. giving me a knowing look, but that was as far as it went, and we continued to enjoy the evening without any more incidents. Later in the night she messaged me saying that the girls had figured out exactly what had happened almost straight away and she had taken so much shit from them all night, with a laughing emoji to show it was all in good banter. At the end of the night we shared a cab back to my halls of residence and couldn't keep our hand off each other the whole way home. From the moment we got through the door we spent the entire night and early morning having intense drunk sex, taking it in turns to see how hard we could make each other cum. Finally, exhausted and giggling, we dozed off as the sun rose.
This song is all me! Not proud either. But, I dont lie to Jesus no more. That's why our faith forbids us.❤️. In the UK drinking age maybe 18 but me and the majority of people start drinking at like 13-14. This is a story about me losing my virginity. Ill take my time telling it, so I suppose you could call it a “slow burn”. It follows me, a young, virgin male, who ends up having a sexual encounter with my boss while her virgin son participated. In case you're wondering, her son and I had absolutely no physical interaction with each other. This story heavily focuses on the excitement of losing my virginity, and I want to share that excitement with you in any way I can. I hope you can put yourself in my shoes when you're reading this, and imagine yourself experiencing your first sexual encounter as well. For that reason, I will leave a lot of the details left blank so the reader can fill them in on their own. If you wish to have a more detailed description of myself, my boss, and her son, then read the following paragraphs. If you want to fill in these details yourself, then you may want to skip this preamble and continue with the main story below. As for me, I am relatively small, quiet, and reserved. Before these events I didnt have any experience with women whatsoever, and pretty much all of my knowledge about women came from listening to my friends talk at school or watching porn on the internet. I am quite small for my age, and even though Im eighteen, I still end up having to look up at most underclassmen at my school. My weight matches my height, and my mom still makes fun of me for having a few shirts that were purchased from the kids section. Thats just my family, though. We have always been able to laugh at our short comings. I have brown hair, I stand around 5 feet tall (give or take) and I have no hair on my chest. My dad tells me he couldnt even grow a beard until his thirties, though, so Im not worried yet. My boss is a bonafide milf. Her name is Sophia, and although she moved away from Russia many years ago, she still has a hint of a Russian accent. Sometimes she speaks with broken grammar, but in my opinion its not bad enough to be distracting. She has shorter brown hair that doesnt even reach her shoulders, I believe she has C-cup breasts, and she has the most amazing ass Ive ever seen. She stands quite a few inches taller than me, with the top of my head landing near her chin. I believe she is somewhere in her mid-to-late thirties, but I cant be certain. Her son Alex is the same age as myself, and he is similar in stature as well. I suppose you could say our lack of physical size emphasizes our total lack of sexual experience. Alex has dirty blonde hair, stands at approximately my height, and he has a nearly hairless body like mine. Its hard to explain his personality, because although you can tell hes not shy and bashful, he still happens to be the quietest person I know. STORY STARTS HERE: I want to be a scientist when I grow up. At least I think I do. Who knows what I'll want to be next year, or heck, even next week for that matter. It seems like I change my mind every year depending on who my favorite teacher is. Last year I wanted to be a lawyer, the year before that a doctor, and I'll probably change my mind another hundred times before I'm done with school. One thing that never changes, however, is that girls are always on my mind. Especially Sophia. Well, I suppose I can't really call Sophia a girl. She's a woman, and an amazing woman at that. Much hotter than any of the girls my age, and much smarter as well. In all actuality, the main reason why I currently want to be a scientist is because of Sophia. See, I'm one of the lucky few who was able to land an internship at a local laboratory at such a young age. Typically the lab only allows college students to help out with the research, but I got lucky by finding myself in the right place, at the right time. However, my “job” isn't exactly demanding - it pays very little, its seemingly unrewarding, and obviously I can't help out with deciphering any of the science that takes place since it's over my head. Still, I help out wherever I can. Sometimes I'm restocking supplies for the lab technicians, sometimes I'm helping them prepare a measurement, and sometimes I'm staring at Sophia's ass while I organize the pipettes and tweezers. Not too bad for a minimum wage job during summer break. Although technically I help any of the scientists or graduate students who ask for it, lately I've been helping Sophia the most. Sophia is a bit taller than me, has the most amazing ass I've ever seen, and best of all she has a Russian accent. It's not a heavy accent like in the movies, but if you hear her talk you can tell she was from that part of the world. Her accent makes her sound both smarter and sexier, even if some broken English slips through from time to time. Every time she talks I can't help but stare at her lips, wondering what it would be like to be able to kiss her. Sometimes I feel like she can tell that I'm staring, and worst of all, sometimes I feel like she can sense my erection if I end up talking to her for more than thirty seconds. I suppose that's a given with someone my age, what with all the raging hormones and all that, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Her husband Peter also works at the lab. In all honesty, he's incredibly cool. Although I'm jealous of him, I'm thankful he seems to be taking me under his wing. I'm eager to help him out with anything, and that means I often get to hang around his wife as well. The only issue is it's incredibly nerve wracking whenever I'm around the both of them because I'm always tempted to ogle Sophia. Sure, Peter is a very nice guy, but perhaps that would change if he caught me staring at her chest. Fortunately for me there was a conference that he was attending to share his research. That meant I get to devote the whole week to helping out Sophia while not having to fear getting caught by her husband. I'd be able to stare at her ass, try to sneak a peek down her shirt, and daydream what it would be like to kiss her. Or heck, kiss any girl for that matter. Man, I was getting desperate. Knowing that Sophia is one of the first scientists to arrive at the lab, I made sure to get to work early every single day that week so I could be around her as much as possible. When I got to the lab I noticed all of the doors were closed except for her office. I walked down the hallway and she popped out, surprised to see me. “Hey, what are you doing here so early? ” “I thought I'd show up early to get a private lesson from you — I want you to teach me how to make coffee! ” Of course, she knew this was a joke since I personally found coffee disgusting, but her husband always told me that I'd inevitably become addicted to it when I grew up, got a wife, and had kids. “Ah, perfect. You heat the water and I'll grind the beans. But I must warn you that I will actually force you to drink it today! ” She said that last part with a wink, and gently poked me in the ribs as she laughed. She turned around and we walked into her office where the coffee supplies were. She went to her miniature coffee station in the corner of the room and bent over to grab the water kettle. My goodness, how I wished skirts were acceptable in the lab. I could only imagine what that view would have looked like if she was showing a little leg. Luckily for me her pants were as tight as spandex, so although I couldn't see any skin, at least I could imagine what was underneath it. As I gazed and used my imagination to picture what was lying underneath that fabric, she quickly snapped up and turned around to look at me. I tried to look away towards the coffee beans, but I was pretty sure she realized I was checking her out. Before my face turned three shades of red, I grabbed the beans and started to weigh them while turning away from her. “48 grams is what we'll need today. Know how I came up with that number? ” She was always quizzing me. “Well, I assume the concentration of beans in the water is the most important variable, right? And since there's coffee for two of us, you're having me make double? ” “Not bad. Not entirely correct, but not bad, ” she said with a smile and another wink. “You are correct, we are using more beans than normal, but you said this is the most important variable. There are many variables when making coffee, but I argue that the temperature of the water and the length of brewing time is more important. If the water is too hot or the brew time is too long, the coffee becomes over-extracted and bitter. If the water is too cold or brewing time is too short, then the coffee will taste. ” She waited for me to answer the question. “Weak? ” “Nope! Wrong again. The coffee will be acidic. sour. Coffee tastes 'weak' when there is not enough beans for the amount of water. Some people like weak coffee. I do not. Since you got that one wrong, I'm making you be my personal slave for the day. And I must warn you, I can be quite cruel. ” If she only knew that being her slave was one of my dreams. Hell, I hoped I'd get the chance to be her slave all week. We walked down the hall together so she could fill up the water kettle. Along the way I stuck close to her, making sure to brush against her every once in a while. Just the feeling of a little extra contact from her provided some excitement. She didn't seem to mind. After a little small talk we returned to the room. I continued to follow her instructions while we made the coffee together. I put the beans in the grinder, dialed the right setting, and turned them into a coarse grind. Then I pressed a few buttons on the water kettle to it get up to temperature. I poured the grounds into the French press and waited for the kettle to beep. In the meantime, she got out her timer and looked at me with a smirk. “Okay mister, let's see if you can get this one right. How long will we be brewing the coffee today? ” “Do I get punished again if I get the answer wrong? ” “Maybe, ” she said while raising her eyebrows and flicking her hip out a bit. I nearly melted. Was she flirting with me? No way, I'm way too young. On second thought, I didn't care if I was too young, I could already tell I'd remember that week for the rest of my life. “Okay, this just isn't fair, but if I'm forced to guess I'm going to go with. three minutes? ” “Wrong again! ” She gave a sly smile and then moved forward so she was within inches of my face. While she gazed at me, my eyes were rapidly darting back and forth from her eyes to her lips. I was wondering if this would be it, if it would be my first kiss with the most gorgeous woman in the entire world. Should I keep my lips closed? Would she kiss my cheek instead? What would I do with my hands? A lifetime passed in those two seconds. She raised her hand as if to place it on the back of my neck as she kissed me, but instead of getting a kiss, she just brought up her finger and lightly tapped the tip of my nose. “Nope! ” She turned away and walked to her desk. “Four minutes for today's coffee. Now, what will I have you do for me? You are now my slave for the week, after all. ” I can't believe I actually thought she was going to kiss me. What an idiot. So there I stood, feeling awkward with a raging erection, while my fully grown boss was making her breakfast. She was probably thinking about her experiments while I was thinking about her. While she was turned around to set the coffee timer, I quickly grabbed my erection and pointed it upwards so it tucked beneath the waistband of my shorts. At that point in my life I was quite used to getting erections, and I was confident my untucked shirt would cover the bulge. I heard the water kettle beep, and Sophia pointed to the kettle, signaling the next step. I picked up the kettle and poured water over the beans while she started the timer. She set the timer down and stepped right next to me, brushing my side as I poured. As I tried to focus on evenly wetting the coffee beans, I noticed she was pressing into my side, seemingly on purpose. “There go you, very good. Pour it slowly, evenly saturate the grounds. Move it in circles and watch the little bubbles form on top — those are CO2 bubbles which signals the coffee is fresh. It makes acid, balances the bitter. Pouring the water should take you thirty seconds out of four minutes we will brew. ” “Were you a barista when you were younger? How do you know all of this? ” “I'm a scientist, how do I not know this? Just keep listening and you will become a master. ” “I think I'd rather become a rich scientist and have someone else make my coffee for me, ” I joked as I gently squeezed her side with my free hand, just above her hip. I started to panic immediately after I squeezed. I shouldn't have touched her like that. Brushing against her while we walked down the hall was one thing, but purposely touching her hip was another. I focused my eyes back on the coffee and hoped she would say something to break the awkwardness. Would she tell her husband? Earlier she touched my side, but that was probably just a meaningless coincidence. She tapped my nose, but that's nothing like me grabbing her hip. I took it too far, I shouldn't have done that! “Well, I'm sure that you can be a scientist someday, but don't get your hopes up on getting rich — there's not much money in this game. ” She looked at me as I finished pouring out the water and gave me a cute smile. Okay, she probably didn't care that I touched her, but I needed to be careful from that point forward. As we waited for the timer to count down, she sat at her desk and checked the news. I didn't have much else to do besides chat with her, so I asked her about the conference her husband was attending. Unsurprisingly, she didn't seem to know the details of his talk, but I'm sort of surprised to hear she didn't seem to care. She almost seemed slightly annoyed. “Actually, these conferences occur a few times a year and are very good for our careers, but it really sucks as a parent. Now I have to take care of the kids by myself. Luckily Alex is the only one home right now, Natasha is on a trip with some of her friends. ” Alexandre was the younger brother, Natasha the big sister. I've met Alex a handful of times when they brought him to work. He tends to look up to me, which I suppose is normal seeing as I'm older than him, yet still much younger than his “boring” parents. I've only seen a picture of Natasha, but I'm not sure how recent the photo was taken. It's quite clear that both kids have their mother's genes, which is a very good thing. For being such a nice guy, her husband doesn't strike me as anywhere near as good looking as her. The beeper went off and Sophia swiveled around in her chair. She looked at me, patted the top of her thighs with her hands, and excitedly told me it was time to pour. I grabbed the French press and plunged the beans downward. Before she had a chance to say a word, I said, “I know, I know - I'm being gentle so when I press the beans down, the sediment won't kick up through the strainer and back into the coffee. ” “Wow, I'm impressed, ” she explained, without any sarcasm in her voice. “Yeah, I know a thing or two myself. You know what else? If you had a better grinder then we wouldn't have to worry about any sediment from the beans. ” The look on her face was priceless. I finally got back at her for correcting me throughout the entire process. While suppressing her laughter she tried to defend her choice in coffee grinder but I wouldn't have it. I kept interrupting her excuses with “Nuh uh! Nuh uh! ” as I poked her sides and shoulders. She kept giggling and backed up into her desk but I kept pressing forward, continuing to poke and tease her. Her legs were slightly spread so I walked in between them, continuing to poke and tease. She looked into my eyes and stopped giggling, then tilted her head with a smile and gave me a look as if she accepted defeat. I stopped poking her and put my hands on my hips, tilting my head to the side as well in order to mimic her. Flirting with her for the last 5 minutes would surely be the highlight of my day. I swore, the way she looked at me was almost the same way that I looked at her. Then I noticed her eyes glance downward, towards my belt. She immediately looked back up to my face, then slid away from me and hurried over to the French press, pouring the coffee. I couldn't believe it — she just saw my erection! As she poured the coffee with her back turned, I looked down to see how bad it was. It wasn't all that terrible, but surely she saw the bulge in my pants. As I internally panicked and adjusted myself, I heard her change the subject and told me what my tasks would be for the day. Her voice seemed completely normal, not hesitant, not embarrassed, just matter-of-fact. Did she really see my erection? Maybe I was just overreacting? My god, I needed to get a control of my hormones. Sophia finished pouring the coffee and then turned around to offer me a mug. “Take a sip, Mr. Barista. ” I took a sip and thought about it. My eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, clearly in thought. I moved the remaining coffee residue around on my tongue to gauge how bitter it was, how sour it was. “I'm getting notes of chocolate and caramel. Maybe a little bit of cardamom as well? I feel like it has a fairly heavy mouthfeel, but I guess I can't tell if that's the nature of these beans or just the brewing method. ” Sophia's eyebrows raised and she looked at me. “Wow. I'm quite impressed. You certainly have an experienced tongue. ” “Nah, I'm just kidding. This tastes like crap. ” We both burst out in laughter. As I took more sips I didn't hide the fact that I didn't like the taste, but she kept encouraging me to drink my mug. She continued sipping hers at a much faster pace, and we continued to talk about what we would be doing later in the day, and what our plans were for the rest of the week. She finished her mug before I was even halfway done with mine, and I just extended my mug towards her to offer a drink. She grabbed it and took a sip, then handed it back to me. “Thank you. You're very kind, you know? ” The way she said it was filled with sincerity. Although we teased each other back and forth all morning, she knew that I had a lot of respect for her. Of course I had fallen in love with her on top of the respect, but how does someone my age avoid falling in love with a gorgeous Russian scientist who could probably pass for an actress or model? We continued to pass the mug back and forth as she told me her plans for the week. She was to make sure her son Alex was entertained. I told her my plans were to work as much as I could in order to save some money, and to hopefully do something fun with my friends. “I wish I had friends to have fun with. Maybe you can be my friend this week. Of course, you must first be my slave since you answered the coffee questions wrong. But lucky for you I am friendly to my slaves. ” I honestly couldn't tell if she understood the slight sexual connotation of what she just said. She was obviously having a bit of fun teasing me, but part of me wished she meant that in a naughty way. By this time some more staff arrived to work so I left her office and started my daily tasks. I cleaned up some counter tops, filled some basic supplies, and then sat down in my little office area and looked at my check list. Sophia walked to the door of my office and immediately gained my attention. She looked down the hall, then leaned in the door and whispered, “I have a secret. Come here. ” I followed her out the door and walked behind her as she went to her office. Her ass was simply amazing. I couldn't help but have dirty, dirty thoughts as we walked down the hall. She entered her office and walked back to her coffee station. She grabbed a mug and handed it to me. “I made an improvement. Tell me what you think. ” I gave her a look as if to say I didn't need any more coffee, yet I reluctantly took a sip because I couldn't possibly resist one of her requests. I smacked my lips a few times as my face formed a confused look. What the hell was that taste? She giggled and told me to try a little more. She picked up her own mug and continued to sip. I couldn't lie to her, so I told her that although it was clearly different from before, I still didn't like it. In fact, I thought it tasted even worse. “I know it doesn't taste as good, but it's much better- trust me. ” She grabbed for her desk drawer and pulled out a brown bottle that said “Kahlua” on it. “Kahlua? What's that? ” She laughed and tapped the label on the bottle, handing it to me. “Holy crap! ” I blurted out loud, as she immediately hushed me and placed her finger over my lips. “Not so loud, we'll get in trouble. Well. I'll get in trouble, you'll just have fun. ” I couldn't believe she just gave me alcohol. First of all, I'd never drank alcohol before given my age, but also, I thought it was illegal for her to drink alcohol at work. I started to panic as she giggled and took another sip, but she sensed that I was nervous and tried to calm me down. “Just relax, I only put a small amount in your drink. Very tiny. In fact, I promise you won't even notice anything besides the taste. I'm sorry, here, you don't need to drink anymore. ” I could hear regret in her voice, then felt a little guilty that I made her feel that way. “No it's okay, ” I said. “I changed my mind. I was just surprised is all. Let me have some more just to see what it's like. ” “Are you sure? This really was silly of me to do, and if anyone ever hears about this I will get fired immediately. This is a secret between me and you. ” “No way, I would never say anything. Not in a million years. Plus, like you say, there isn't enough in here to make me feel anything so it's okay. ” I took another sip to let her know I could handle it. “It's not like I have to do anything important here anyway – all I have to do for the rest of the day is make sure the printers have paper and try not to get in anyone's way. ” She pouted, I think to signal that she felt bad for me since I felt so useless. I smiled and reassured her that I'd be fine, then took another sip. “You know, for being so young, you seem to be handling that like a man. But really, I shouldn't be letting you drink that, so give it here. ” She took the mug from me and placed her hand on the side of my face, rubbing her thumb along my cheek. She set my mug down next to hers and walked back out in the hallway to see if anyone was near. She turned around and I couldn't help but glance at her chest before returning to her eyes. “Okay. This secret is between you and me and no one else. Remember? ” “Got it. ” We both walked out of her office and went about our day. As I walked to the supply room to gather the items our lab spaces needed, I took notice that I really couldn't feel anything from that drink. Part of me was relieved that no one would find out I was drunk, the other part was disappointed that this was my chance at proving to Sophia that I was mature, and I messed it up. I walked back from the supply room and started filling the labs with Kimwipes, tweezers, paper towels, and cotton swabs. I walked by Sophia's office and noticed it was empty – she was probably on a different floor performing an experiment. I made sure the hallway was empty and then entered her room. I opened the drawer and saw the Kahlua, then looked at her coffee mug which was still half full. Although I was way too afraid to take another drink, she could handle it as an adult. I wondered if she would notice if I added more to her drink. Maybe she would she would get tipsy and flirt with me — I remember hearing my dad joke about that before. I opened the bottle and poured more into her drink, then quickly put the cap on the bottle and walked out of the room. A few minutes later I saw Sophia walking down the hall and I followed her to her office. She sat at her computer and saw me in the doorway. “Come on in, Mr. ” I started to ask her if there was anything else she wanted me to do for her, and she reached for the mug and took a sip. Her face seemed a little confused, like something was off. Maybe she noticed I did something to it. “Well that's too bad. It got cold. Cold coffee is a terrible thing, you know? But I'd better not let it go to waste, ” she said with a wink. She sipped the coffee and we chatted about the rest of my daily tasks. As she continued to drink, I changed the subject and started asking about her plans for the week. Seeing as it was going to be warm out, I asked her if she planned on going swimming or getting some sun. I tried to imagine her in a swimming suit, then quickly regretted the thought as I started to get another erection. Once again, I got nervous that she'd see it. “No, no swimming for me today. After work I will pick up Alex from the neighbors and make dinner for him, then we will try to entertain ourselves for the night. What will you do? ” “I don't have much going on. I don't think my parents will be back until late tonight, so I'll try to work as long as I can to get a better paycheck. ” “You work so hard. You are supposed to be having fun at your age and not wasting your life away, you know. ” “How could I be wasting my life away when I'm learning from the best? ” Sophia laughed. “Nice try, but sucking up doesn't work. It takes more than a compliment to win me over, so try again, mister. ” She took another sip and looked into the bottom of her empty mug. I wondered if I gave her too much to drink, she is pretty dainty after all. Then again, perhaps her Russian lineage would give her a little more tolerance than my mother. Isn't that how it works? It approached five o'clock and all of the other staff members started filtering out of the lab. She looked at me and told me that since we were the last ones then we'd have to make sure the rooms were closed properly. Of course, being the new assistant, I still didn't know how to close up properly. Sophia was willing to teach me. “Come on, follow me. We'll close it together. ” We exited her office and headed to the far end of the hall. She giggled and we joked about being such hard workers, staying late, even though we both knew we didn't get much work done for the day. She entered the first lab room and inspected the fume hood, making sure it was turned off and the door was properly closed. We exited the room and I turned off the lights, then closed the door. We walked into the next room and made sure the equipment was turned off, made sure none of the sinks were leaking, and made sure all gas cylinders were properly closed. Satisfied, she gave me a nod and I turned off the lights, then closed the door as we headed to the next room. “Do security guards walk the halls at night? ” “Yes, they start walking the halls around 7:00 pm, and then again every two or three hours until their shift ends early in the morning. Until then the labs are usually empty except for a few hard working graduate students or post-docs. Whenever I work late I'm usually alone, but our graduate student Stephanie is often staying late. ” Stephanie was a total babe, which was pretty odd in a laboratory setting. I swore that throughout every building in our large laboratory complex, the two most beautiful girls worked on my floor. I was as lucky as it gets. Sophia could see my expression change when she mentioned Stephanie's name and this likely confirmed the obvious — I had a big crush on her. “So, what do you think about Steph, anyway? ” “I mean, I really don't ever talk to her. She doesn't seem to need my help and I'm not experienced enough to help her with her work. She seems smart, though. ” “That's not what I meant. What do you think about her. appearance? Do you find her kind of cute? ” Trying not to blush, I told her of course she was cute, but there were a lot of cute girls in the world so who cared. Sophia didn't like that answer. I felt like she wanted to tease and embarrass me, so she continued to press the subject. “Ah, so you think she's cute. That's fair. Now you must tell me, what is the cutest part about her? ” We continued to walk into the next lab and Sophia asked me with a whisper, “Do you like her ass? Her tits? ” She giggled and looked at me while poking me in the ribs as I turned off the light in that room. I couldn't believe I heard her say those words. Earlier I was trying to flirt with her and she was being nice to me back, but now she was actually bringing up sex and my heart started to race. I rolled my eyes and refused to answer, but she continued to tease. She stepped close to me in the dark room, however there was still plenty of light to see each other's face. She raised her eyebrows expecting an answer and I continued to be flustered over the subject. How was I supposed to answer that? Of course I liked Stephanie's ass and tits. In fact, her tits were not only amazing, she was constantly putting them on display with low cut shirts that showed off her cleavage. The one thing Stephanie had that Sophia didn't wasn't just a great set of tits, it was the fact that she wasn't afraid to flaunt them. I swear, Stephanie didn't own a single shirt that covered up her cleavage. The answer that Sophia was expecting was the obvious answer, Steph's tits, so I made myself go with the opposite. Of all the things that Stephanie had and showed off, Sophia had a phenomenal ass, even better than Stephanie's. “I don't know, I guess she likes to wear a lot, but I think I like her butt a little bit more. ” “Ahhh, I see. Well now I will have to see if I can catch you looking at her ass throughout the rest of the week. Better be careful, I'll have my eye on you. In fact, I'd better keep an eye out on my own ass because maybe you'll stare at that one too! ” “Oh come on, stop it. ” I was truly getting embarrassed, but she seemed to be loving every second of it. Perhaps the alcohol was encouraging her. We walked out of the room, closed the door, and headed to the next room. She walked in front of me and lightly tapped her butt, then turned around and winked. I shook my head and looked down at the ground, trying my hardest not to get an erection. I failed. Why was it that the harder I tried to contain myself, the more likely it was that I'd get excited? We arrived at the next room and I immediately turned out the light before she had the chance to catch me with a hard on. “Turning out the lights so soon? You seem eager to be alone with me in a dark room, yeah? Perhaps I have an ass like Stephanie's after all. ” She continued to tease but I was too embarrassed to say anything back. She turned the lights back on so she could check the equipment, then when she was finished inspecting she turned around to flip the lights back off. However, when she turned around she looked down and saw my erection. This time she didn't immediately turn away and pretend like she didn't see it. Instead, her eyes clearly lingered for a few seconds as she very slowly reached for the light switch. My face must have turned a shade of red that I never knew existed. I could feel the room getting too warm for my liking, and I had no idea what to say or do. Sophia simply walked out of the room. I followed, feeling a little nervous since she stopped talking. We approached the final room towards the end of the hallway and I stayed behind, letting her inspect the room on her own. She turned off the lights and closed the final door, then flipped off the light switch for the hallway. The only room that was open was her office door at the other end. A sliver of light pierced the hallway. “Don't get scared, now. It's not too dark for you, is it? ” The sound of her voice made me believe she wasn't upset after seeing my erection. In fact, her voice continued to get friendlier and friendlier. Was the alcohol really working? Was my dad correct and it makes girls flirty? Too bad the work day was over and I had to go home. “Do you have a ride home? You said your parents wouldn't be back ‘til late tonight, I can drive you home if you'd like. First I need to send out a report to the director. ” “No, that's okay. My home is just walking distance, over on Mulberry Street near the bakery. ” “Ah, I had no idea you lived so close to me! I'm over on the East side of the bakery, just a couple of blocks away from you. I am going that way to pick up my son, let me just take you. This way you don't sweat to death outside. Sending the report will only take a few minutes, anyway. ” “O- Okay, thanks! ” I couldn't turn down an offer to stay with Sophia a little bit longer. We headed down the hallway and into her office. She sat down in her chair and pulled up a document. “The majority of the report is written already, I just need to clean up the language and make some small edits. 95% of the work is done, but honestly this is the part that really sucks. ” “So, do you want me to make you some more special coffee? ” I pressed my luck and hoped she'd have another drink, loosening her up even more. No such luck. “No, that's okay. In fact I'm a little surprised how I feel with just a small drink earlier. Perhaps I'm not Russian after all. ” Perfect, it seemed she had no clue I added more Kahlua to her coffee. “You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to take advantage of me. Perhaps as punishment I will make you suffer somehow. ” She turned around and gave me a playful look. She was right about trying to take advantage of her, but I really hoped this punishment wasn't going to be anything worse than running a few extra errands for her. Of course for her, I'd do anything. “How about you take care of this, ” she said as she tapped the top of her shoulder. I gave her a confused look. “Last night I was playing catch with Alex and now my arms and shoulders are sore. Use your hands and put some pressure on my shoulders to loosen the muscles. ” My punishment was to have an excuse to touch her? Just as I thought my exciting day was over, she told me to make my dream come true. She swiveled around to face her computer screen and I stood behind her. She started typing. I looked down at the back of her neck and carefully placed my hands on her shoulders. This was the first time I had ever touched a girl like this. “Not so soft, that tickles! Use more pressure, Mr. Masseuse. Is that what you call it? ” “Masseuse? I don't know, I think so. ” I increased the pressure on the back of her shoulders, then tried to read the computer screen to see what type of report she was writing. It looked boring. I looked down to her shoulders as I fumbled about, not knowing what to do. I didn't realize giving a massage was possible without oil. “Am I doing this right? ” “You're doing just fine. Perfect. Maybe more pressure. ” To increase downward pressure I had to get closer, so I stepped in until my stomach was brushing against the back of her office chair. I looked down, but now that my head was almost directly over hers I could actually see down her blouse. She never wore shirts like Stephanie, but at this angle I could clearly see down the opening of her shirt. Not only could I see the tops of her breasts, I could even see part of her bra! Thank god her desk chair had a sturdy back, because if it hadn't then I'm pretty sure she'd have been able to feel my hard on press into her. She continued to type the report, and I continued to rub the top of her shoulders while staring at the small glimpse of cleavage and bra. Her blouse would peel away from her breasts each time I moved my hand in a certain direction, letting me see more and more of her breasts. After a few minutes she looked up and I looked down, and she just smiled. “Thank you, Mr. This was amazing. ” She looked back at the computer screen and sent out an email with the report attached. I guess this meant my fun was over. I stepped away and before she had the chance to turn around I made sure my erection was hidden. “Well, I suppose it's time to take you home and pick up Alex. ” “Yeah, I guess we'd better get going. ” There was a hint of defeat in my voice. I was perfectly okay with letting her know I wanted to stay. We walked out to her car and I hopped in the front seat. As we pulled out of the parking lot she asked me what I would do while I waited for my parents to get home. “I don't know, probably play a video game or something. ” Of course, by 'something' I meant I'd masturbate while fantasizing about flirting with her, staring at her ass all day, all while reveling in the fact that I was able to get touchy with her a few times. “Ah, I can't wait for my son to start playing more and more video games. ” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Even I could pick up on that. “Right now I can at least keep him entertained with books and puzzles, but I fear the day he gets hooked on Call of Combat. ” “Call of Duty, I think you mean. You're pretty out of touch, but I promise I can help an old girl out. ” I couldn't help but laugh at her, but she wasn't having it. “Old girl? Come on, you're making me feel bad over here! Hey, I think my ass is every bit as good as Stephanie's. Just wait until she gets to be my age, I promise you I will be looking young and beautiful in comparison. ” I pictured Sophia and Stephanie naked, backs turned to me, asking me whose was better. I tried to get the thought out of my mind since it would be quite difficult to hide an erection while sitting down next to her. Sophia continued, “You know, if you want, you can come home with Alex and I until your parents are off from work. It gets a little boring with just us two, but I'm sure he'd love to play with someone slightly closer to his own age. Unless that sounds a little boring, then I completely understand. ” Was she really inviting me to her home when her husband was gone? While tipsy? Of course I'd do anything for that, even if that meant playing with someone a bit younger than me. “No, no that actually sounds okay. I wouldn't mind solving a puzzle with him or something, as long as you're helping out. ” “Great! Let's go pick him up and then we'll have a snack and play around at our house. ”.
: , , ,. Well, if you had a Chrysler, you'd drink too. 1. Common Sense. Just wanted to acknowledge that this video looks like it took a LOT of work. researching, beautiful shots, great editing, not to mention sacrificing two buzzfeed livers. and I really appreciate it! Amazing video, could not stop laughing. Laughs in European. The whole time i was just waiting for one of them to get drunk.
Dear comment reader may your parents live more than 100 years and you will always be happy in your life. [Part 1. Part 64. This chapter is about the average length of my posts, just over 46k characters and 8, 500 words, so it will be a comment or two extra. The Barret kid led Alshwan and his group into the home he had burst out of, a decent sized two story cabin. As soon as they entered through the front door and into the lower floor they were exposed to a comfy heat, a large fire place in the left wall the source of it. This caught Alshwans' notice in particular because he hadn't noticed any smoke coming from the large clay chimneys outside, in any of the buildings, yet he doesn't linger on it. More noticeable than the fire place was the smell of the place itself. It smelled strongly of fur, meat, blood, and some sort of chemicals. Judging by what else was inside, it wasn't that surpising. The entire interior was filled with animal furs of all sorts and in various stages of tanning. Some were strung up and being stretched while it was clear others were up to be scraped, and tables sat with piles of furs already completed, folded neatly and on display. A few were even already made into simple tops or breeches and one table even displayed leather boots. A counter of sorts was to their right and a large circular table sat in the middle of it all, empty, and beyond it was the stairs that led up to the second floor. Before they had even fully entered yet, Hon'oka asks the kid, You're a leather tailor. Nuala was the last to enter, she pulls the door shut behind them as the kid, hand still on his sister's shoulder, looks over his shoulder to them with an embarrassed smile. He gives his sister a little shove and says now, Frëa, go upstairs and make us some tea, please. The girl nods okay and Barret watches her go up the stairs fondly before he looks back to the three of them, still stood by the door way, and his expression falters some as he replies now. I try. the kid says sheepishly, my mother was the tailor. Father and I used to hunt and trap the furs and mother would make the clothing. I only know how to make simple garments and boots. Frëa is a bit better a apparel making, but she never had the chance to learn all of it from mother before. When the kid trails off, Alshwan asks, Your parents are dead. The kid swallows a lump in his throat and nods, and Hon'oka asks right away. How. Nuala gives her a pointed look and Hon'oka shrugs in response, asking her, what. The kid looked close to tears again but he did a fine job of holding them back as he says, It's okay, they are both gone. Yes. My father passed away 2 years ago, he was killed by those Guild Members, and my mother passed away last year. She worked herself to death after father passed, so. My sister's all I have left, she's only 12, so, it's my job to look after her... But nevermind that, please, have a seat. The kid turns, giving a half hearted smile, as he waves at the large empty table before continuing. Sorry about the smell. I have a tanning shed out back, but I can't watch the store and do the leather work unless it's in here. I try to do most of the work so that Frëa doesn't have to stay out in the open. Alshwan and his group was already headed for the table as he spoke, and they were already seated by the time he finished. So Alshwan asks right away. "You said Guild. The kid looks a little surprised as he takes a seat of his own, across the table from them. Yeah, you didn't know? Those bandits are ex-Guild from Jo. The story is that they were exiled and fled from Jo after some sort of trouble close to 20 years ago, no one really knows for sure why, but they made way over the mountains and ended up here a few years back. The kid pauses and looks as if in thought before continuing, 5 actually. They arrived close to my twelfth birthday. Alshwan looks to Nuala now, and at his curious expression she only shrugs, it obvious she wasn't aware of what the kid was talking about. So Alshwan looks back to the kid now and says, Tell me what you know about them. Barret looks nervous suddenly, his hands on the table top wrap into themselves as he nods and says, Okay. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, They call themselves the Black Hand now, it's why they wear those cloaks with the imprint on it. The Guild was exiled by King Jo and they floated around taking and doing assassinations, but they ended up getting chased out of Jo, I believe. I overheard father talking to mother about it. They numbered close to a hundred when their Guild was dissolved, but they took some losses during the time they wandered and more when crossing the mountains, because of other bandits and the elements. They ended up building a base near here and that's where their remnants are still held up now. Alshwan drums his fingers of his right hand across the table top in quick succession before he says, I see. But, what are you hiding? You seem to know more than you're letting on. That obvious, huh. Barret says sheepishly. Mum always said I was a poor liar. He looks down for a moment and Alshwan, Nuala, and Hon'oka remain silent, watching him. When he looks back up, he says, My father was a part of the Guild, he had fled earlier than the rest with a friend of his, an Elfin, way back while the Guild was still located in Jo, right when they first dissolved. He never told me this, as I don't think he was proud of it, but I overheard him and mother talking about it, plus he used to speak about Fäeder alot. When the Guild dissolved, father left with his friend because he didn't like the way the Guild was operating after. They were all already wanted because of whatever the Guild had done to be dissolved, but when they started assassinations my father wanted out. The Guild threatened to kill him and Fäeder when they went vocal about leaving so they waited until everyone was drunk one night and fled. With the Guild threatening them, and being wanted, they both fled here, to the wilds. The route in to here is one of the main established ones, an offshoot from the actual pass over the mountains, and they had a rough go of it. By the time they reached near our village they were both heavily wounded from being attacked by bandits and the cold. Mother found them both one day out in the forest, father was only barely alive and Fäeder was already dead. Mother nursed him back to health and the result is me and my sister. The kid looks to Hon'oka now and says. Frëa was named in memento of Fäeder. Father said he had always wanted a child and that was the name he had picked out for her. Father spoke of him a lot, though not their background. Fäeder had saved father by healing him and ended up passing away himself, so I guess he wanted to pay tribute to his friend. Hon'oka raises a brow at this but she doesn't speak, so Alshwan asks now, How did the Guild end up here. Barret leans back into his chair and gives a harsh choking laugh that sounded more sob than amusement, he shrugs and says, Hells if I know. A lot of people blamed my father for it, but when the Guild killed him in front of everyone, well, that changed their minds. It was just bad luck, I guess. Like I said, there's only a few passes down from the mountains. When the bandits showed up and started putting pressure on the village, my father formed a small group with some of the townsmen and held out. They managed to keep the village relatively safe for three years, but one night the Guild attacked and rounded up all the men of fighting age, killing them... They nearly killed me too, but father protected me and ended up dying as a result. They killed 15 men that day and abducted every girl that was here at the time between the age of fifteen through eighteen. Our village is small, so it really hurt us. Most of the men in fighting condition had already picked up weapons and been killed for it. We only have 103 people living here now and most are elderly men and women and widows, but that includes children too, mainly from the deceased. They took the girls a little over two years ago, seven of them, and that's when they made their demands. They wanted monthly supplies and a new girl every year. The first girl was given up quick enough by the Chief a few months later, he had his guards take her and deliver her to them right there in the middle of town. She was the last girl of the age they wanted in the entire village, had just turned fifteen. At least we thought so, the Chiefs daughter was only a rumor then. The next time they came for a girl, the Chief told them we didn't have any the age they wanted, so they attempted to take a girl they had missed in the initial round up two years back, as she was out when the raid had happened, she was 20 by then, but that didn't pan out. Why not. Asks Hon'oka curiously. Barret actually shudders before he replies. That girl... She is crazy, she. Barret trails off when the sound of soft footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs, and he turns to see his sister carrying a tray of clay cups. He gives her a smile as she approaches, and when she finishes handing out the steaming cups, that smelled strongly of honey and mint, he says, Thanks, sis, can you go and start setting up the kitchen? It's nearly lunch time, so. Barret turns to look at Alshwan and his group and asks, You guys hungry. Alshwan looks to Nuala and she gives him a shrug back in response, so he looks to Hon'oka next, but she was already raising the steaming cup and sipping at it. Her face lights up a little at the taste and Hon'oka asks now, looking up to Barret and the girl, This is an Elvish tea. Barret nods and replies, It is, at least it's meant to be. Father taught mother the recipe and she taught Frëa. I'm not sure how close it is to the real thing, but I've always liked it. Nuala picks up her cup and sips it before looking to girl still stood beside them, pressing the platter to her chest, It's delicious. Nuala says to the girl, causing her to blush and smile. "Its a traditional Elvish tea called Räeng, it's good for mornings and cold weather. This is as good as the real thing, maybe better. Nuala spoke to the girl with a smile, the girl still blushing at the praise, but she turns to Barret and asks now, Where do you get the honey and mint. Barret gives his sister a proud smile of his own before answering, Mrs. Bitaker and her husband own the local pub. They forage the woods here for ingredients. She collects honey and syrups from the trees around here to make their own meads. It's quite popular, actually. We trade with some of the local villages to survive this far out, and between furs, dehydrated meats, and mead, we have a steady barter here. I give her some meat and furs and she keeps us topped on honey and other spices for cooking. This village was doing well until the Guild showed up. When Barret trails off, Alshwan and Nuala share a glance now, but Alshwan looks back to Barret and says, I think some food sounds good. The kids head had lowered when he had finished speaking prior, but at Alshwans' statement, he grins and looks to his sister, giving her a nod. The girl nods in return and heads off, back up the stairs. Once gone, a small silence falls over the group, so Alshwan picks up his cup and sips it too. It was a perfect balance of bitter and sweet, and had a strong jolt of caffeine to it. Something that was a little surprising to Alshwan, but he couldn't deny it was good. His surprise shows in a satisfied hum as he sips the warm liquid, and Barret watches him drink with a grin. The boy held his own cup between two hands, letting the heat of it warm his hands as Alshwan sets his own cup back down, and he asks Barret now, So, how does everyone else out here survive? You've mentioned a little barter between villages, but you've only talked about you and the bar mostly. The kid frowns slightly, but he responds anyway. "Foraging, trapping, and hunting, mostly. You guys are from Jo, aren't you. What makes you think that. asks Alshwan curiously. "You have a lot of questions about this village, Mister. Questions that a native to the Wilds would already know. Oh. asks Alshwan, a little surprised. 'This kid is pretty sharp. Yeah. says Barret with a nod. Everyone from the Wilds knows how easy it is to live off the land out here, well easy may be an exaggeration, but the woods here are bountiful and full of game since it's so sparsely populated. So long as you know how to avoid the bandits, and know where to hunt, it's not hard to get by. Most of us only take as much as need be and get by like that, but other villages differ. One of the villages we trade with nearby mostly deals in lumber and smithing goods. I was gone to trade for some new tanning equipment when Frëa was taken, but thankfully I was already nearly home today and found out. I do owe you guys a lot though, so thank you. I couldn't have saved her on my own. Nuala notices that Alshwans' eyes narrow at the kids last words, almost an angry piercing stare, but thankfully it lasted only a moment and the kid didn't notice. Nuala was wondering what he was thinking when Hon'oka speaks up now, she asks, You left your sister here alone. The kid sinks inward a bit at her blunt question, looking a little sheepish as he replies. "Yeah... I thought it would be safer if she stayed here locked up at home instead of traveling with me for days out in the wild... I don't like it either, but I don't really have any other choices. Alshwan speaks up now, and his tone was surprisingly firm, surprising Nuala and Hon'oka and causing them to look at him curiously as he asks the kid, So, you have a crush on the Chiefs daughter. The kid seems surprised, he flushes red in his cheeks as he sputters, Wha. I uh, no. Alshwan continues, I saw the way you looked at her while hugging your sister, I also saw the glare you gave when that guard grabbed her. Don't lie to me, kid. Barret flushes darker before he says, I uh... It's not like that... I knew her when we were kids, so, we used to play together alot. We're the same age, so we got along okay. She was a bit stuck up but nice enough. When her mother passed away a few years back she became a shut in. The Chief claimed it was natural causes but with how his daughter became a recluse, well no one knows. After the Guild first arrived, the Chief claimed his daughter had hung herself, said she was too heart broken over her mother passing. He had a funeral for her and everything. There were rumors she was still alive but no one knew for sure until today. It's just, I haven't seen her in so long... She. the kid pauses and sighs, twiddling his thumbs around his cup nervously before he says, she's prettier than I remembered. Alshwan leans forward suddenly, standing slightly to reach over the table and he grabs the kid by his wrist. Nuala exclaims, Alshwan. at the sudden movement and the kid reels back, trying to pull away, but Alshwan tugs at his arm hard, yanking the kid into the table and knocking over his cup, causing him to huff from the rim of the table hitting him in the ribs as the steaming liquid grows in an ever expanding puddle. "Wha, what are you doing. The kid yelps and Alshwan squeezes his wrist tight enough that the hard leather of his sleeve could be heard creaking under the grip. Alshwan grabs the kid by his face with his free hand and makes him look at him when he winces and tries to look away. Nuala and Hon'oka sat more surprised and confused than anything, and they watched silently as Alshwan speaks to the wincing kid. "So you do like her. Alshwan says menacingly. but what if I told you I did too. The kids eyes widen and he looks to Nuala now, who only stares back expressionless, so next he looks to Hon'oka, pleadingly for help, but Hon'oka only leans back in her seat and crosses her arms over herself. The kid whimpers now, his surprise turning to fear for the first time, and Alshwan says, Don't look to them, they won't help you, kid. The kid huffs, blowing ripples into the puddle of steaming tea as Alshwan grips his wrist harder. "I like that girl, and I want her. Does that piss you off. N. the kid sputters, and Alshwan slams a fist down next to his face hard enough to knock over his own cup now, that had somehow managed to survive the initial pull, though Nuala and Hon'oka caught their own during the second, fist induced, bounce. The kid yelps in surprise and Alshwan says, Wrong answer, you little shit. Alshwan grabs his ear now and twists, making him look at him again before he continues. What about your sister? What if I told you I want her too. The kid looks up in fear, tears welling as Nuala says now, Alshwan. Her tone hesitant and apprehensive. Alshwan ignores it as he continues, What if I told you when I leave here I'm taking both of them with me, that I want more wives? Huh? Would you just let me do as I please? Would you hide your sister from me, lock her up alone and away from the world for the rest of her life or would you watch me snatch her with tears streaming, kicking and screaming as I take her away? Standing there crying and balling up your fists, not doing a damn thing about it. Nuala and Hon'oka had both been confused by Alshwans' actions at first, but they both trusted him, however, it isn't until now that they realized what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Nuala and Hon'oka both silently think to themselves the same thing now, Alshwan is angry. I've never seen him this angry. course I wouldn't. the kid chokes out, his voice meek. "Then what would you do, kid? Would you fight me. Alshwan asks, leaning closer to the kids face. The kid flinches and tries to pull away, sniffling in the process, but Alshwan tugs him closer now, and he smacks the kid across the face as he shouts. ANSWER ME. I... I would! I would fight. The kid says now, still meek but showing the first signs of anger. Alshwan smacks him again and shouts, Say it like you mean it you little bastard. The kid balls up his free hand and slams it onto the table, saying now, I WOULD FIGHT YOU. Alshwan lets go of him and the kid bounces back quickly, standing up fast enough that he knocks his chair over and he clutches at the wrist Alshwan had been gripping, looking at Alshwan with a red cheek from where it had been smacked before. His eyes were wet and he was scowling as he looks to Alshwan, but Alshwan only sits back in his chair now, and says, Good, that's what I wanted to hear. but Alshwan pauses now and points to the stairs, where Frëa was standing at the top of them and looking on expressionless. Barret sees her now and looks back to Alshwan with a menacing glare. Alshwan chuckles at this and says, Kid, locking your sister up isn't something someone does when they love them. She isn't a possession. You would do well to remember that. The kid grits his teeth and holds eye contact with Alshwan, but he doesn't speak, instead he shakes his hand out, trying to rid the pain. "That's a nice look kid, the eyes of a real man. If you care about something then don't hesitate and don't try to ignore it because of the fear of pain. Fearing pain only makes cowards, and hesitation gets you killed. The kid half huffs and half grunts in response before he inhales deeply and says, I'm going to go make lunch. And with that he spins and heads up the stairs quickly, tugging his sister along with him. Once gone, Nuala looks to Alshwan and asks, Was that really necessary. I can't stand it. says Alshwan now with brows furrowed, Seeing that beaten dog look in a person. That kid is too young to be so fearful and selfish. Seeing eyes like that brings back bad memories. Nuala frowns now, confused by Alshwans' words, but she suddenly remembers that Alshwan was one of the first generations born on the arc his kind had created after the plague nearly destroyed his people. He mentioned before the air of the older generation too, the survivors that experienced the plague first hand, Alshwan grew up around them. No wonder. Nuala thinks, her eyes drooping pitifully as she recalls the pain she had felt in her merges with him. "I see. Nuala says now slowly, But, that kid likely doesn't know what you were doing Alshwan, he may hate you. Good. says Alshwan right away in response. "It would be nice if he did, but he's pretty clever. He at least knows he needs us, which is why he invited us in the first place. He won't try anything against us. Alshwan pauses for a moment and says, Though, that makes me angry too. Hon'oka chuckles now and says, You're just bitter Anaryah kicked us out, so you're taking it out on a kid. Some big shot you are. She says teasingly. Alshwan looks to her pointedly, eyes narrowed, and Hon'oka only grins back cheekily. A moment passes before Alshwan bursts out laughing, genuinely amused before he replies. "Yeah, I suppose I am, aren't I? Speaking of that though, I don't like being used. Anaryah is fine, but this village, not so much. Something isn't quite right here either, these guys have been fooled. " What do you mean. asks Nuala, looking confused. Alshwan sighs and stands before heading over to the counter. He leans over it and looks around before sliding down a few feet and leaning again, reaching behind it. When he pops back up he is holding a cloth. Alshwan turns back and heads for the table, proceeding to dab at the spilled tea before he says, You heard the kid. He said the Guild was a hundred strong when they left Jo. He mentioned them taking some losses on the way over the mountains but the way he spoke made it sound like they still numbered high. There's only 23 of them according to the guy I interrogated. There's no excuse why no one here should not know that, especially since they are close by. The only reason they don't know is because no one has bothered to check. For two years they've let themselves be bullied and haven't done a damn thing about it. Alshwan says angrily now. It pisses me off. Especially since that kid is looking at us like some kind of saviours or heroes. Nuala nods with a smile on her lips, she says now, I understand, but you should try to understand his point of view too. Everyone here has been cowering in fear for five years, yet we come in and do something that they've likely only dreamt about, and done it without getting hurt. Of course he would be relieved. Alshwan finishes mopping up the tea now, and he tosses the wet rag back onto the counter, where it lands with a wet plop, before he says, I do understand, and that's why it makes me so angry. Hon'oka chuckles and both her and Nuala give him a knowing look, full with cheeky smiles. Alshwan sighs again before slipping back into his seat and saying, Or maybe I'm just in a bad mood. he says with a shrug. Fuck it, it doesn't matter. I do know that I'm not staying here over night. It's a waste of time, after we eat we're leaving. What. Both Nuala and Hon'oka exclaim in disbelief, and Alshwan only remains blank but nods before replying. "Waiting around until morning is a huge waste of time. After we eat we will set out, West Northwest. We've got more important things to do. As soon as he finishes speaking, Alshwan stands and says, I'm heading out for some fresh air and to call Sai'doro. I haven't heard from him since he said he found Granddad, so I want make sure he set him up how I asked. And with that he heads for the door. Hon'oka and Nuala watch him up until he leaves, and once the door shuts, Hon'oka looks to Nuala and says, I can't believe he's just going to leave these people. I thought for sure he would help them. looking disappointed in Alshwan. Nuala chuckles now, and says, Hon'oka, did you forget we haven't gotten directions to the wards yet. Hon'okas' eyes widen in surprise as she catches what Nuala meant, and her face splits into a grin as she says, I see... He really is a big softie, even when he's angry, isn't he. As soon as Alshwan steps out the door he throws his head back and inhales the cool air deep, letting out a sigh and a gush of steam on the exhale. Before he even lowers his eyes, Aidann is already speaking inwardly, Your pulse is elevated and your brains showing a 10% increase in dopamine production. Shall I lower it for you. That bad, huh. Alshwan asks, eyes scanning the open lane between the buildings now. There were still quite a few people moving about, but the crowd from before had dispersed. Most people likewise seemed to be moving from building to building, not staying out for very long. Still, they saw a steady flow of people coming and going. Alshwan pulls up his cloak hood now and turns, making for the side of the kids home and looping around back. The kids shed he had mentioned prior was sat flush against a portion of cliff wall. Alshwan is heading for it when Aidann replies. 'You are more agitated than normal. It's been a long time since only words have gotten to you so much. Its more than words, Aidann. Don't pretend like you don't understand. Alshwan replies, already opening the shed door. He slides into it quickly and pulls the door shut behind him. Pulling back his clothes sleeve now, Alshwan opens his commspads holoscreen. The light it gives off illuminates the small room and Alshwan sees it was mostly as the kid described, random tanning equipment and metal utensils for various purposes sat on benches that hug its walls. The room looked unused for a while and was covered in a layer of dust. Aidann replies during this time with a projected. But when Alshwan starts tapping at his commspad, Aidann speaks once again. 'If I'm not mistaken, I believe I have already found the wards. Alshwan pauses his tapping now and speaks out loud, Seriously. Aidann hums an affirmative and says, still speaking inward, Indeed. It appears Anaryah was right in saying this village is within a day walk of the Temple. The wards for this place must be rather large, as the 6th drone, the one we sent ahead initially, seems to have started malfunctioning after only flying for two hours. The heading is due North, we can follow the trail down the cliff face in front of the village and reach the outlier within an hour run or four hours walk. You waited to tell me. Asks Alshwan curiously and Aidann replies. 'I wanted to make sure the malfunctions were caused by a ward and not some other circumstance first. Thanks to our time in Elfinvale, I was able to confirm the energy source of the wards as that of being a ward. I'm 98% sure this is a ward, and it has grown stronger at a steady rate the further north the drone travels. Soon, I think exploration with the drone will be useless. You've been doing that a lot lately, but no kidding? That's definitely a useful ability to have. says Alshwan, meaning the verification of ward energy. But, Aidann was already promoting a mental headshake of no before he says, It isn't. The verification process can only be achieved if a drone is already inside a ward. It would be more effective if we could see it from a distance. Alshwan lowers his commspads bearing arm now and replies, Ah, so it's like that. Him trailing off in thought. Aidann nods yes and asks, Do you really want to call Sai'doro or would you rather I debrief you. You can just tell me, I wanted to see what was going on outside more than anything. I understand. replies Aidann, Sai'doro has already moved on from Ellä'hólm and has sent Granddad on to the location of the closest drop storehouse. Sai'doro himself is very near to Summerdale forest, he has rode non-stop for a day and a half already. He should reach the forest within half a day, but I have urged him to find somewhere to rest. He's yet to stop, but I think he may soon. He should arrive within a day, at most, to the location of the facility Mraz tried to send you to, though, are you sure you want him to go in. Alshwan nods and says, We've not seen anyone coming or going from there in the last few days. With their underground subway system, this doesn't mean much, I'm aware, but you've already sent down ground penetrating radars, you said it was empty right? Do you think it is dangerous. There is always some risk with entering enemy territory. I won't know for sure until Sai'doro opens the door and allows a drone in, however. The facility is wrapped in an energy signature unlike any I've ever seen, it appears to be a ward but I'm not sure what it is nor what it does. If the place is a mix of magickal and more modernly protected, as the subway system and implant from Dohs' thigh seems to suggest, it's too risky to brute force an entry and risk triggering an alarm, especially since we have the implant key to the door. I get that, but, that's another reason why it's so important we check. We don't know enough right now. What they want, what they can do, nor who they are. It's better if we can gather as much information as we can, and from all avenues. There are things a person can do that a drone cant, but still, I don't want to put any one into danger if I don't have to. Scout it first while Sai'doro waits outside, if there is any danger at all, call it off immediately. I understand. says Aidann once again, It will be approached with caution. Alshwan starts to speak but a high pitched noise outside cuts him off, causing him to pause and listen long enough to hear that it was the sounds of children playing and laughing somewhere off in the distance, so Alshwan asks now, What about the Guild guys? Have you learned anything else from watching them. I knew you would ask. says Aidann, so I've taken liberties and scouted ahead. According to Barrets' description, I believe I've found the most fitting location for their base. There are 13 individuals including three adult males, seven women, and three infant children. The area near to their locations domicile. as Aidann says this part he projects a holoscreen showing drone footage of a wooden longhouse, appearing more barracks than home. The screen splits now and shows on a separate screen aerial footage of the group of 20 from above. They were on foot and travelling, and a small screen inbetween the two screens was an Aidann created topography map, showing the distance between the two locations in a real time visual, indicated by the two places markers shown by a red border of an circle and an x, x marking the longhouse. 'At their current speed they should arrive in four hours, but the places I'm showing on the HUD map now. as Aidann says this the map changes, little red squares appearing all around the location of the longhouse. 'These markers are indicators for traps the bandits have set. They've employed traps such as deadfalls and rope traps on the outliers. the small red squares furthest out of the circle flashes white now and Aidann continues, But further in. the interior of the traps markers, closer to the house itself, turn a deeper red, almost an bloody scarlet. The outer edge markers stayed the same pinkish red, however. 'These traps are lethal ones. Spiked drops, spiked traps, crossbow trips, and some log pike swings. They all appear to employ rope based triggers in some fashion. I've gone ahead and deactivated a section of them. As Aidann says this an arrow opens up from the south of the circle and showing a clear lane directly to it, the bandits were approaching from the east of the longhouse, headed west. "You've been quite busy, Aidann. Alshwan says now, scanning the three screens. When he finishes he asks Aidann, Should I feel like an asshole. You're asking me. Obviously. 'Do you feel like one. Sort of, but I'm not sure. Shouldn't I though? These guys are a little more careful than I initially assumed. I just joked with you about making assumptions and suddenly I'm doing it. Isn't that weird. If you mean your interactions with the kids, then no. You may have jumped to several conclusions, but it is based off of experience, and overall I don't think what you did impacted them harmfully. You essentially did the same thing to Barret as you did to the girl, and I think it's for the best that they had a reality check. Some times it's better to be the bad guy. Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but that last part isn't true. There's no excuse for it. If it's bad then it's called bad for a reason. If it makes you feel any better, your mental state has been changing quite a bit from the standard normal of the time from before the seed was placed in you. Since the seed was put in you by the twins, your brain has been producing chemicals on overload. Are you saying I'm hormonal. That's a succinct way to put it, but sure, it fits. That doesn't make me feel better at all. says Alshwan with a chuckle, you suck at this. I'll better regulate the chemical productions. Aidann says in response, ignoring the teasing jab, and Alshwan replies right away, Don't. Now that I know, I'll control it myself. Okay. In the brief silence that followed in the lull of their conversation, Alshwan better hears those kids voices again, and they sounded closer than before. They had been off towards the entrance to village at first, but now their laughs were echoing and carrying from much closer, and now that they were, Alshwan could hear that these weren't normal laughs. Growing up on an crowded arc as a kid had seen Alshwan around a lot of kids himself, and he knew that high pitched tease anywhere, and he knew that normally when kids were laughing like that, they were up to no good. Alshwan slips out of the shed door quickly and the noise grows louder, echoing around the buildings from somewhere on the center lane. Alshwan slips back around to the front of Barrets' cabin, and he sees right away the source of the commotion. There was a group of six brats, hands locked in a circle as they skipped around an cloaked figure in the center of them. The figure was walking along with a basket in the crook of a right arm and at first glance it would appear that they were only playing, but the expression of the children and the sing song way they called out, it was clear that the nature of their play was far darker. The kids seemed to be singing the same thing over and over, and what they were saying was, Crazy girl! Scary Girl! Monster Girl! Please don't eat us. In Tutnan. Alshwan was already frowning as he watched them draw closer towards where he stood in front of the cabin, but when the door creaks open, he looks back and sees Nuala and Hon'oka exiting, Nuala frowning as she asks. What's going on. Alshwan points towards the kids and woman and says, Seems like we found the crazy girl. Nuala and Hon'oka both frown at the sight but Barret exits the door now too, saying. Tea and lunch is ready. but when he sees what they were watching, Barret trails off before saying, Oh. Alshwan couldn't help but see the look in the kids eyes as he sees the group of kids teasing the woman. It was full of an expression as if he had just seen something he wished he hadn't, like distaste at seeing a big pile of dragon shit, yet his eyes were aware enough to show pity and embarrassment too. "Does that happen a lot. Alshwan asks the kid now. Barret gives a sheepish smile and says, Yeah, pretty much every time she comes to the village but don't worry about it. It's rare for her to come unless she is doing some bartering. Barret rubs his hands together vigorously now and raises them to his face, blowing on them before he says, Lets go eat. After, he spins quickly and reopens the door, but he pauses when he sees that none of them were moving to follow. Hon'oka crosses her arms and was glaring at the group of kids, and she doesn't even look back to Barret as she asks him, What's up with that? There's a reason for it, isn't there. Alshwan notices now that they weren't the only ones watching either. Some of the people moving between buildings and homes were actually watching with smiles or just flat out ignoring it. An older woman was walking hand in hand with two kids too, and she actually gives them a shove, pushing them towards the group as if encouraging them to join in before turning and entering a building. The two new kids were making way for the group when Barret shuts the door he had opened, hand still lingering on the wood handle as he responds. "Yeah. Says Barret slowly. She's the girl who avoided being taken, so a lot of people are resentful because of that fact, but it isn't just that she escaped being taken by the Guild, it's how she avoided it. Barret trails off as if he didn't want to say more, but when Alshwan looks to him, he continues, She burned herself. Poured a steaming cauldron of oil over her head. Her entire left side of her body is pretty much scarred. Nuala gasps and pushes a hand to her lips as Hon'oka gives an angry "Tch. Spinning to glare at Barret. Even Alshwan felt himself scowling, even more when the two new kids scoop up some dirt clods and start to chuck them at the girl, dancing along outside the ring of the group still circling the girl and chanting. "Disgusting. says Alshwan now, his voice full of anger. CONTINUED IN COMMENTS.
Mallory Schlossberg/Business Insider Never does a greasy, cheesy slice of pizza taste better than after a few beers — am I right? After a long, boozy brunch one Sunday, I wondered: Why does food taste so much better when you're drunk? I was sure some psychologist or sociologist somewhere had studied this hard-hitting question before, so I scoured the scientific literature. It turns out the relationship between alcohol consumption, taste, and craving is pretty complicated. And it can be tough to tease out why any connections emerge in the lab or in studies in the "natural environment" bars. I'm sure many of you have experienced firsthand a late night food binge after drinking. Just in case you haven't, scientists have confirmed that this phenomenon occurs. Numerous studies have found that people tend to eat more food when they drink alcohol vs. when they drink nonalcoholic beverages. But when researchers have had study participants rate how good food tastes after drinking alcohol, the booze didn't seem to make a difference. A review of studies that have covered alcohol and food intake concluded that alcohol can increase appetite in the short-term especially, and that the mechanism underlying why is incredibly complex. Alcohol can decrease hormones and signaling proteins known to suppress hunger, the authors wrote, while it can increase those that are tasked with increasing appetite and food intake. REUTERS/Michael Dalder One mechanism of particular interest is alcohol's effect on the opioid system, known for regulating pain, reward, and addiction. The authors of the review said that alcohol enhances endogenous opioids, which are thought to regulate the reward for eating more palatable food. So it may be that alcohol doesn't necessarily taste better when we're drunk, but that it makes us feel better to eat it. Its also possible that food tastes so good after a night of boozing because all that drinking has made you ravenous. There are, of course, caveats. Many of these kinds of studies have small sample sizes — often fewer than 50 people participate — and can be difficult to replicate. And a lot of the conclusions in this area are mere hypotheses, since we don't really know what's going on in the brain or why. But now you have a science story to tell the next time you're heading home from the bar, hungry. Cheers to that.
Country these days is like pop/rap music NOT MIDLAND Keep up the good work. I love how Ned constantly brings up his wife. Hes so sweet, he wants everyone to know that its offbounds. damn. 99% of the comments are about Eugene 1% is about the actual video XD. Bruh I can feel my melanin popping through this video. I'm not sure what woke me up first. The ringing in my head or the pinching feeling in my arm as the nurse wiggles at my IV and attaches tubes with colorful tops. I watch the syrup blood flood into them one at a time. There are lines of clear liquid running up the bags that hang near my head like a baby mobile hanging above a crib. I feel helpless. "Hey, 23 is up again. I hear the nurses voice as she's holding down my arm getting blood samples. I groan as I try to take a deep breath. A fire blooms in my chest and my head is fuzzy. It's so bright in here it that my eyes are still trying to adjust. "Really already. I hear an older woman's voice come in and a young man's voice chime in after "How? That was- his voice feels further like he is mumbling through the fog. "Wha… Where is this. The words feel heavy in my mouth as I squint at the ceiling. There are tiny colorful butterflies painted on the ceiling panels and they almost look like they're fluttering along. I look to my left at the beeping monitor with a series of numbers in red, green, and blue. A spike of pain shoots its way through my chest like thunder crackling along my ribs and I whimper. "Is CT open yet. I hear the older woman come back into focus as she continues barking orders in a calm but irritable voice. That must be the doctor talking. "You're at St. Cecilia's. Can you hear me? Tell me your name hon. By the time I realize that her voice has gotten closer she is already pulling at my eyelids and shining a bright pen in my cornea. My eyes water when she let's go. I try to sound out my name even though it feels foreign on my tongue, but I know it's right. I try to rub my eyes and realize my arms won't go to my face. The nurse has already left the room holding a bag full of tubes with my blood. "Why am I…” I inquire grimacing at the pain. "You've been in an accident. You were a tad aggressive…which happens sometimes. You're about to go get some scans done so I can see how knocked around you were but, you're in good hands. When's your birthday. December 13" She asks more questions I assume to figure out if I have my wits about me. It feels like I'm waking up from a nightmare but still somehow stuck. An accident- wasn't I just? I don't recall going anywhere. I look for a clock. 10:43 "Scale of 1 to 10, 10 being on fire, how would you rate your pain. She asks as she touches my body, it's only then I notice I'm actually naked in a light blue hospital gown. I blink for a moment "uh… just my ribs like maybe a 6. Hurts to breathe. Yeah, you might have cracked a few but we will check on everything. Do you remember you remember if you hit your head. I didn't…I don't think I hit my head… is it 10 in the morning. I notice a few people in uniform with badges lingering outside the room. The doctor chuckled and shook her head. "PM. Did you think it was morning? What's the last thing you remember. I uh" my brows wrinkle in concentration. A small man in different colored scrubs with a heavy vest on comes into the room pushing through the younger white coats. "Its okay. Let's get your scans done and they'll have more questions for you and we will talk once we have the results. She leaves and the small man comes up to my bed. I feel a click and we are moving out of the room. He says his name but I don't notice and tells me about what radiology scans the doctor ordered and how they will go as I just lay there. I'm not really listening. I'm looking around and we pass another room as a few people covered in mask and gowns with blood smeared on their arms and some covering their waist area come out of a room where theres more blood on the floor. It feels quieter in that room than outside of it. Someone must not have made it in there. Wait, why am I still tied down? I tug at my arms to get the hair out of my face not remembering that I've got cloth like cuffs on my wrists and ankles with white belts tying me to the hospital bed. The one on my dominant arm is digging into my skin then I notice it's a silver handcuff. "When can I get these off. I croak staring at the shiny metal. "Oh. The doctor is probably putting in the order to take them off or she's gotta wait until we are done so you dont bite anyone else. The handcuff is up to the police" he says matter of factly. "I wha- I lose my breath in disbelief and bite my lip down as another sharp pain shots through my side. Okay, maybe I did hit my head. Was I driving or who. I don't remember leaving the house this morning. Okay-Okay calm down let's try to backtrack. I stay inside my head as they move me into a flat table and perform x-rays and scans they said were for my head or something, I wasn't listening. I woke up this morning… and uh, I took a shower, yeah and I went downstairs to eat some cereal, uh no one was home just me. I was going to yeah I was gonna stay home for that because its January and I didn't feel like being in the cold or driving on the ice., I remember sitting at my desk then. I cant remember. My breathing gets ragged as warm tears drop down the sides of my face. Calm down, calm down. I haven't been feeling well lately and I thought I was in a gloomy place mentally but not anything serious. I've never had a blackout this long, I mean they've only been lasting for minutes the past two weeks, which is very new. Before that, Ive never had any lapses in memory or blackouts. I even pride myself on my excellent short term memory. I thought it was the dark weather and depression. Some stress from the last intense semester being over and the next one starting up. No big deal I've had waves of mental shit before but I've always dealt. Lately, it's been different though and I've been getting worried. Worried enough to mention it to my parents just last night after they brought up an apparent recent incident, or "bullshit outburst" as my father called it, that I didn't remember. They didnt really believe me and said catch phrases like "put it in God's hands. Ever since they tried to turn their lives around and walk away from all the drugs and drinking and be "saved" it's rare that they curse anymore. I think he does it in the moment for effect so I know he's serious. I would almost want to laugh at how fake the words sound in his mouth now but I know that would make things worse and I know my father is seriously upset with me. I see myself as a small child as I look up at my towering father standing in the kitchen scolding me for some mistake I've made as children often do. I don't like the feeling of them being disappointed in me it always makes my face warm. But I couldn't even remember what I had said or done. I just… can't remember anything. my mind pushes up worst-case scenarios of a brain tumor, psychosis, and other awful things to explain the black spots in my memories. My mind mulls over things that aren't going to help me right now so I redirect my thoughts. Okay, so last I remember I was at home this morning alone uh I made it to my desk to study. Wha-What time was that? The memory, the cloudy sky behind my desk, and clock reading 09:13 flashes in my mind. said it's like 10 so that's over 12 hours. 12 fucking. I need to tell them to call my parents. Once I'm back in the room one of the young white coats comes in asking a slew of questions about what happened, my day, and how I got here. I answer as best I can and shortly after the nurse takes my restraints off except the cuffs so I'm sitting up now. Everything hurts and I feel nauseated. I feel sore but more human than an animal because that's how the staff keeps looking at me, some won't even look me in the eyes. The older doctor in charge comes in again. She tells me that my blood alcohol level is beyond levels of drunk and more akin to alcohol poisoning. She says that I shouldnt have been responsive much at all let alone driving my car on one of the back roads near where I live, where I hit a van head-on. A family. 3 're gone. I killed them. I'm shaking and hot tears are rolling down my face as she hands me a small box of tissues with a flat expression. I feel like I'm drifting away on the ceiling as her voice gets smaller. She introduces the police officer as he comes into the room for more questions. "Did you call my parents. I look at the doctor as she's leaving. "Yes. I just got word they're here so I'm going to talk with them, can i tell them everything? ” I nod "thanks. Hello. His voice is formal and rough around the edges. I wonder if his voice is always like that or if he's tired since he appears slightly disheveled. "I just have a few questions for you. I was one of the first responding officers on the scene and I have to say, you seem like a different person in such a short amount of time. I didn't think the alcohol could wear off so fast, especially that much. I haven't seen that violent of a drunk in a while. I stay quiet mimicking a statue as he pulls a metal stool up closer to the bed with a small pad in his hand. "So. Let's begin. We got your university ID from your backpack in your. silver Honda civic 2013… totaled. Called your parents from your phone, thank goodness you didnt have a crazy lock on it. You live at home with mom and dad, 23-year-old state university student. You purchased 3 bottles of whiskey 0. 6 miles from your home at 0943 and again at 1300 from a gas station not far from s footage of you in the parking lot according to my partner. Then nothing no other receipts, Uh" he flips the pages in his notebook. "At 2203 PM we get a 911 call to an auto accident on this tiny winding road, out past Main Street. I live in a small outskirts town from the city, so it's just two-lane road called Main Street that holds the tiny town together and a veiny collection of winding roads through the forest. "Head on collision, Honda estimating doing over 60 in the wrong lane just before a curve when the minivan came around that corner. No skid marks in the ice, 3 DOA, and 2 flighted here. As of a few minutes ago, you are the sole survivor. He flips to what I assume is a new page. He looks at me with a stone face "how did we get here. 0 He motions for me to start talking. I spill everything that I can possibly remember that I had pieced together in my head. I tell him about my recent issues, I tell him how I've never had a drink in my life, that I have and would never purchase alcohol. "Oh come on. he actually laughs, then his amused smile slides off his face as fast as it appeared. "You're in college, of legal age. I was young once. It's in your blood. why lie. He almost growls. He doesn't know me, he doesn't know how I was raised, and how I have never even tasted any alcohol. I'm a good person. I work hard, I do everything I am supposed to, I've never been in trouble, I've never disrespected anyone or gotten into a fight or lied about something unforgivable or snuck out of my house. Nothing. “I don't need to pollute my mind or body to have a good time. ” Its what I would always say to defend my choices from friends urging me to "have a little fun. I'm not some doe-eyed sheltered prude, I've had plenty of opportunities or ability to do whatever I want or make bad choices, but I choose not to. I make the right choices I'm smarter than that. My parents know me, my friends they will explain. they know I would never. My dads voice echoes in my head. "I'm a little disappointed in you kiddo, I don't know. What's gotten into you, do you want me to pray with you? If its school or a new relationship or what, but I've never heard you talk like that to your mother. I recollect the other night talking with him and trying to explain how I didn't remember whatever it was I said to her and how I haven't been feeling myself. My cheeks turn red and feel warm as I sit handcuffed to a bed in front of him. I always get a little frustrated with the religious talks with them, to think everything is fixed by hopes and prayers. It's been forced on me my whole life, I respect their lives and live under their roof so as a part of the agreement I go to church with them every Sunday while I live there. I go to school and I work on days I'm not at school. I saved up a whole year working nights to get that car that's now a pile of metal and blood. It's not even my blood. I inhale slowly and let it out. Their house it's their rules and once I've saved up enough and done with school, it's my last year, then I'll be gone and don't have to pretend out of respect anymore. I can tell them I'm agnostic. "I don't drink. I never have" I say in a flat tone and stare down at the thin white sheet covering me. X.
YouTube. Too many thoughts, too many feelings, too many faces Yea, whats the feeling of success? Achieved so many things, but all I feel is regret, I feel alone inside my head what dont you get? Wake up every morning like its still my set, Reminisce on where I come from so I dont forget, Been to rehab a dozen times, they called me a vet, You thought you knew me, I havent opened the curtains yet Alcohol destroyed all my relationships Forgot most of my life - except for the video clips, Poisoned my brain to forget the pain, on the daily I feel insane Im above the ground though I cant complain, god relieve this pain I feel like I drank the blood of Cain, Every day is a surprise, my brain tells me Im so wise, But hes a master in disguise, while Im the one who cries, Hes the one who lies, To me in my own voice watching my demise, When hes in in control anything flies, It scares me, I built a fortress to disguise, This out of control mind, I want to cut the ties A Broad perception, in a beautiful world, through these eyes, Try to express my feelings, no one can understand. it no one can, this experience is mine god had it planned Just hope I can grow up to be the man, The one he created to do whatever he can, Yea, whatever he wants, his drive his will he can make a stand, A visionary, Socrates his thoughts are grand, Who do I trust, who I am or who I want to be, Its confusing with a devil living inside of me, Loving spouse, family man what I try to be, This bipolar got a hold of me, Blindfolding me I cant see, Please doctor doctor set my mind free, I thought I knew everything with my degree, The lessons I learned from the things I failed to see, Mommy and daddy got divorced when I was a kid, I think I was 8, I cant remember, who am I to kid, My first blackout in life, daddys about to lose his wife, So much anger, “hes” telling me to find the knife, Take it to the artery just a little slice, Lifes not as nice, as people make it seem, No one hears me scream, from the pain, Inside this brain, some days I feel insane, 110 on the freeway trying to stay in my lane, Drunk driving no Im not sane, Getting high to alleviate the pain One day I can be the man, goals, driven, and full of will, The next be full of sadness, regret, life stands still, I can remember anger that drove me to. You dont know how I feel, People probably thought I made a deal, With the devil to have all this skill, I write all these thoughts, hoping theres a heart to fill, Hope someone can relate, I hope my pain makes you elate, My perceptions not up for debate, Here is my life theres no room to understate, The reality of my life and the things on my plate, Strive to be in a mentally stable state, Sometimes lifes not so great, My minds locked in a crate, and he is the key holder of my fate, My life feels like an afterthought, Stepdad thought love was something that could be bought, Used to get in trouble every time I got caught, Only if they knew the realism of what I did, or maybe they ought Not to know, but for the sake of the flow, Im going to let go, Put on a show so they finally understand what they missed long ago, Lets start as a little boy, all the love you showed was a decoy, For the truth that mommy and daddy were ready to destroy, Split us up, brown moving boxes was it all mommas ploy? I still dont know the truth, I dont want to ask or annoy They say they fell out of love, how can you fall out of love, Unless you gave up? Dont you realize whos above, Poor American white family, three kids and divorced, man the stereo type fits like a glove, Never got physically, but always received a verbal shove, Psychologically I wish I could dispose of, This garbage thats left behind, in this mind how am I supposed to give away free love, One day at a time, one fight, Im going to give it all my might, Serenity prayer please give me the light, To accept my life and guide me right, Some days things are out of sight, God comfort me so I feel alright, Im shrouded in darkness, call me the dark knight, Noble Im my cause, daily lifes a plight, As a teenager I survived off my drive, Then there was the day I didnt want to be alive, Locked those feelings deep in the archive, Padlocked in the deep parts of the brain so they dont thrive, Questioning the purpose of life when I was five, Asked about space and God, curiosity already took a dive, Most people and me dont really jive, One instinct on my mind is to survive, Mania kicking in putting me in overdrive, Found out when I was twenty-five, Im mentally ill, my life took a nose dive, Time to wake up and revive, Its time to deprive, The addiction and the. I do to connive, God im going to work on my life until arrive, To the kingdom, hopefully I live to see thirty-five, Todays a new day, no telling what I might do, Try to hold my family together, backbone and the glue, Just accept my view, everythings not about you, Been self-reflecting, Im having a break through, This story is contagious, call it reality flu, Knocked on deaths door, Alcohol blood volume. 492, What was I thinking? Pores stinking, breath wreaking, Family and friends shrieking, at all my drinking, Woke up surrounded by the medical team, Asked me if I was suicidal, I said what do you mean? Im a genius, with a good job, had one since fourteen, Worked hard my whole life, why am I here confused as hell - creating a scene, Needle in my arm, threatening to restrain me, God please set me free, right now youre the only one that can help me, Ready to fight the doctors and nurses, now theyre going to petition me, When I opened up my eyes, Seen my momma with tears in her eyes, Most painful look Ive ever seen on her face, Now I feel like a huge disgrace, wish she knew gods grace, My hearts racing at a fast pace, anxiety took over freaking out in this place, The realest hug ive ever felt was from momma while I was in that room, Time to clean up my life, time to clear my mind and get out of the back room, Where my thoughts are locked, time to forgive and bury the in their own tomb, Most think they know me, and its dangerous to assume, Most my life you seen me in my costume, hiding behind the monster of doom, Spent so many hours in my bedroom, drinking so much leaving behind an ethanol fume, Days later its still hanging around, how the poison turns everything into a darkroom. 12 days locked in the psych ward, hopefully I can move my life forward, Dr. says I had an episode of major depression, I forgot to tell them about my secret obsession, These words are the closest thing I have to a confession, When I die take my brain for a case study dissection, Dont let my evil said lead you to mis-direction, When im aware I can make the correction, What an elusive lie, chasing perfection, Life is about love and a real connection, God im tired, give me a symbol give me direction, Therapy sessions for years, did nothing to help these tears, Still react with impulsion and anger, watch out for the danger, the biggest fear ive ever had was the fear of myself, and the things I was capable of to destroy myself or secure the wealth. So many secrets its a masquerade, im hidden behind my stealth, The lies created to maintain this alter-ego destroying my mental health, My biggest pains in life are when I had it all and left it all, My depression after mania was the biggest fall, I felt like I was the king of the world, king of the jungle; hear my call, My ego inflated from my achievements, made me feel tall, Daddys dream was his oldest boy would play college ball, Just like the song boys of fall, Daddys dream wasnt mine to live, But that wont stop me from giving all I can give, Im sorry for the night I was drunk and we got combative, I shut that night out its not something I want to relive, Please daddy forgive, now youre so corroborative. Now momma I know we do not speak, The real issue is we dont want to feel weak, Why are we so strong, the ones who cant take critique, Maybe we are so unique, and live life with such technique, The type of thoughts people think are antique, Their arguments bleak, our common point is its our mind we speak, Im ready for the conversation, a common destination, Where we live in harmony, and actions dont lead to causation, I hope my dictation, and the acceptance of your creation, Allows you to accept me and the ground I call my foundation, Rebuild our family, together we can create a formation, Our time and love the only donation, mix em together titration, Its a ruination of the family, its everything I wanted it to be, Ive struggled with every relationship, With anyone I let close I seem to lose myself and flip the script, Those evil days I hide in my mind, security equipped and encrypt, I feel like im writing a manuscript, a story of a man who slipped, On the struggles of life, and opportunities that have been stripped, Went to college on a full ride, paid for room and board seen the debt and just about cried, 350 a month to the government talk about a life hurdle that broke my stride, Since graduation I noticed im the new dr. jekyl and mr hyde, Success in my life was implied, mental health hit me on my broadside, Missed my grad school opportunity, I should have applied, Had love going for me, turned into a landslide, All I want to do is have a good job and be able to provide, Im not the only one suffering this epidemic is worldwide, I just want to sit by the lake side, retire and reside, Somewhere peaceful where a simple life is implied, The only downside, is the demon inside me that takes me on the regular for a joyride. Worked 80 hours a week, drinking a fifth a day, Most people dont even know what to say, To me it was just another day, Its about to get nasty watch out for the word play, Life not black and white live in the grey, Area, mass hysteria, my mind runs astray, Enough liquor in my blood to make me sway, One wrong move may be my doomsday, I write about my life like a final exam essay, Giving it my all no halfway, Yea, im making headway, opening the doorway, For all to enter; serve up my experience like a fine dining entrée, Living check to check, cant wait for payday, Maybe someday, ill be on the golden walkway, To the kingdom of god then ill be okay, Impulses so strong its hard not to obey, The other side of me thats so hard to portray, When hes manic I get risqué, Let me paint a picture, get your tickets to the screenplay. They say its not what you go through, but what you became of it, My lifes not a stereotype, those stipulations dont fit, I seem to get back up after every hit, I couldnt write this skit, Im trying to use my. my mind feels split, I cant take this. I just want to quit, go to therapy to learn skills and what to omit, From my life, its hard ill have to admit, Elementary school I realized I was a misfit, Dreams in the stars, illuminated and moonlit, Building a legacy without a permit, Try to live life so im not a hypocrite. Shocked by the responses to voice and gods word, You can say in high school I was a nerd, Football MVP and valedictorian man thats absurd, Wanna know my secret, ask me the password, Stand on my own, not a part of the heard, Forgive me for all my problems and troubles that have occurred. The darkest secret you dont know, Is that im not motivated by the dough, Its the times where Im feeling high and low, Sometimes it feels like time is slow, The biggest crush to my ego, Was when I had a 20-gauge ready to pull the trigger and blow, Racking the shells, playing with the ammo, The rest of my life I was about to forego, I wanted to let go, because I wanna know I write to share my story of experience, strength and hope. In Recovery mentally and Recovering from substance abuse.
I appreciate how sis came into the home quietly and peaceful while bro continued doing what he was doing. She kissed him then sat down patiently waiting. Yessss sis. I see you. 😏😏😏🤫🤫🤫. That Willie Wonka joke 😂😂. Am i the only one who wanted one of them to get like drunk and do some crazy talk lol. My summer job is giving tours of the woods and trails just outside my hometown of Older Hills, NJ. So far it has been a nice job to have right before starting college. The pay is good, appreciative customers often give me tips which I am allowed to keep, and I love being outdoors. Im a small, pretty girl and often people express surprise that Im willing to go out into the woods alone, even in broad daylight, with total strangers- maybe it is just the fecklessness of youth. My routine is simple. I stand in the main parking lot of the Older Hills Woods Reservation, wearing khakis, hiking boots, and a maroon Older Hills Parks Department polo shirt. I carry a clipboard, but the clipboard is really for show since I keep all the forms, maps, and information I might need stored in my phone. My boss told me to carry the clipboard because, he says, studies show that clipboards let people know youre somewhere in an official capacity. My boss is a smart cookie. Last week, a group of three guys pulled up in a monstrously huge, jet black F250 truck with Texas plates. The truck squealed to a stop, taking up one and a half parking spaces when it finally came to rest. I started to go over and yell at them to move it, but when they got out of the truck I thought better of it. All three were big dudes, and they just kind of gave off a vibe. The three guys were all dressed in shorts and tee shirts. Two of the three had Texas A&M shirts on, so I guessed that was where they went to school. The third guy had an eagle clutching an American flag in its talons on his shirt. All three had trucker hats. One of them belched. The other two followed suit. I glanced half a dozen crushed beer cans in the truck while the door was open. Expensive truck. Expensive college. Trying too hard to look like good ol boys. I could smell the Axe body spray ten feet away. “Frat boys, ” I thought, “this will be good practice for going to frat parties, ” I told myself, trying to look on the bright side. To tell the truth, though, I was starting to get the jitters. There was something off about these guys. The tallest guy in particular, who I could already tell was their ringleader, had eyes that seemed a little cruel and wild. “Sup baby, ” said the shortest and fattest of the three, giving me a wink. A million memes danced in my mind. I stifled a smirk. “Hey there, ” I said with a smile to the tallest guy, just to piss Winky off, “would you guys like a tour of the woods? Its only ten dollars and the woods are really gorgeous. ” The tall dude smirked. “So yer askin if were willing to pay ten bucks to go out in the woods with a pretty lil lady? Well shit yeah we are. ” Then he laughed and winked. “Im only joking with you. What I mean to say is wed love a tour of the woods and ten bucks is a bargain. ” The middle guy, the guy in the flag shirt, spit tobacco on the ground. Super charming. He wiped his lips. “Shit, I cant even get a can of Skol in the fuckin East Coast for ten bucks. Ten bucks for a tural beauty, cant go wrong there. ” He said “East Coast” like it made him want to throw up in his mouth, but I ignored that and said, “Okay well we can get started right away. My name is Cordy, by the way. ” The tall one did the talking for all three of them. I imagined he usually did. “Im Tex. This little turdblossom you were just talking to is named Hoss and the fat guy there is Jimbo. ” Tex, Hoss, and Jimbo. Of course. Tex, Hoss, and Jimbo strutted back to the truck and hauled out three backpacks. I was not at all surprised to notice the truck had a Sigma Chi fraternity decal on it. Id already heard plenty of stories from friends who had gone off to college. “Do we pay you now, or when we get back, ” asked Tex, casually pulling a wad of 20s and 50s from his pants. “Hey now Tex, dont flash your roll like that. Someone might try to rob you, ” said Jimbo. “Shit, ” said Tex, “Id give up this roll over their dead body. ” All three laughed. “We can take care of all that after we get back, ” I said. “If youre not satisfied I dont like to charge. Were pretty friendly and unofficial here, and we aim to please. ” “Im sure were gonna be satisfied, ” said Hoss. “I mean, you seem like youre gonna be a real good guide. ” I definitely had the jitters. And the heebie jeebies. But I also felt like I had a job to do, and I had to prove that I was capable of doing it. I guess thats why I decided to press on ahead despite my trepidation. “Well, ” I said, “follow me. Hey you guys are Sig Chis? I hear you throw some kickass parties. ” “Yeah, ” said Hoss, walking behind me as we made our way into the woods, “you havent lived until youve lived through Derby Days weekend. ” “Yup yup, ” agreed Tex. “Cool, cool, I start U Mass next semester and Im pretty sure theres a chapter. ” “Yeah, ” said Jimbo, “Massholes party pretty hard. For East Coast pussies. ” The three high fived. About 500 steps in and it already felt like the longest tour of the summer. I decided to take the three frat boys on the Storm King Trail, which is a challenging but absolutely gorgeous hike that takes hikers past (and sometimes through) stunning flora, and also offers a fair chance of spotting a red fox or some deer. Bears are an occasional risk in the woods, but like the old joke says if worse comes to worse I didnt have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun one of three Texans (probably Jimbo. A voice in my head then asked me What if you have to outrun three Texans? It was a warm, overcast day threatening rain, and none of the trails were very busy. The Storm King trail in particular, which is our most challenging (but also most beautiful) hike was deserted except for the Texans and me. Tex, Hoss, and Jimbo had begun to linger together, whispering back and forth, fifteen or twenty feet behind me and it was starting to make me a little uneasy. “Hey guys, ” I said, “would you please try to keep up? It would make me feel better if we all stayed together. ” They did scurry to catch up with me as we hiked the muddy trails and took in the sights, but Jimbo commented, “I bet a pretty lady like you could get into all kinds of trouble up here in the great outdoors, huh? ” I tried not to show how this only vaguely veiled threat made me feel, so I just smirked at him. “Ill bet Texans can get in trouble pretty much anywhere, Jimbo. ” That made Hoss and Tex hoot and holler, and Jimbo joined in. We were a mile into the hike, and had been hiking steadily uphill for some time when Jimbo stopped, took his backpack off his back, and opened it up. He withdrew 40 oz bottles of Budweiser and started handing them out. “You know you guys really arent supposed to be drinking out here, ” I protested meekly. “And just what are you gonna do about it? ” asked Jimbo, with an edge in his voice. I could feel the mood starting to pivot, almost imperceptibly, from “Aw shucks its all in good fun, ” to something a little more sinister. I decided I was in no position to push the issue right now, so I just shrugged and said, “If anything too serious happened I would just call park security. ” “And are yall gonna call park security just because some good old boys wanna wet their whistles? ” asked Tex. I laughed. “Nah. I dont drink beer or Id have one myself. You dont have any wine coolers in your bag, do you Jimbo? ” He grinned a beefy, ruddy faced grin. “Sorry. Fresh out. ” “Oh well, ” I sighed. “Think yall can keep up while you drink your beer? ” “Shit, ” said Hoss, “I was an All State running back in high school and drunk every damn down. ” “Only thing you were All State in was pullin your pud, ” said Tex with a laugh. Hoss looked downright huffy and muttered something under his breath. We had hiked for another half an hour, and were almost to the part of the woods I wanted to show them. There is a beautiful clearing with an idyllic, bucolic little pond thats usually full of frogs and turtles this time of year. Its hard to find. You have to do a little bushwhacking and also do a little bit of rock climbing, and as far as I know Im the only person who has ever found it. I know it probably sounds careless, like I was just asking for trouble, leading three rowdy frat boys to a clearing deep in the woods, but I just felt like there was something so magical about that place that Id be safe once they saw it. Still, I was a little jittery when I said, “You boys wanna do a little bushwhacking now, see something really cool? ” They hooted and hollered. “Sure thing, Im always down for a little bush. Whacking, ” said Jimbo, predictably enough. I sighed and picked up a big stick and started clearing heavy, droopy tree limbs out of the way. “Be careful, ” I added, “some of these plants have thorns that hurt like hell. ” After beating our way through thick vegetation we had to scamper up a small, craggy embankment. Hoss must have lost his grip at one point, because I heard him yell “Son of a bitch I cut my fucking hand. ” “Does it hurt, ” laughed Jimbo. “Hurts like eight bitches on a bitch boat, you little bitch! ” “Boys, watch your language, ” I giggled, “or I wont show you my favorite spot in the woods. ” I saw the three of them exchange sly, mean glances. I got a serious case of the jitters again. Suddenly I saw Jimbo reach into his backpack and pull out a roll of duct tape. “What are you gonna do with that? ” I yelled. Tex said, “Well Cordy, we already wet our whistles. Now were gonna wetten our dicks. And out here this far, Im pretty sure nobody can hear you scream. ” “Leading us out here, dont even try to tell us you didnt want this, bitch, ” added Jimbo thoughtfully. Hoss wasnt saying anything. Just staring at me like a wild predator. Which, I guess, is exactly what he was. I took off running in the direction of the clearing. Tex laughed. “Oh youd rather do it over there in your favorite spot? Well thats fine with me. Lets make this shit romantic, boys. ” And suddenly the three of them were hot on my heels. I slipped in the mud and Tex, surprisingly fast despite his girth, had his filthy little fingers in one of my belt loops, but I yanked hard and got away. I kept running as hard as I could toward the circle of trees that surrounded the clearing and the lake. Someone else, Hoss, I realized, was so close to me that I could feel his breath on my neck. Nevermind the jitters, my whole adrenal system was tweaked and I could taste the taste of battery acid and bile in my throat. I slipped free of another pair of hands and this time I didnt bother looking back to see who they belonged to. I felt desperate, like a hunted animal, running so hard it felt like my heart might beat through my chest. I ran into the clearing. I think Hoss must have been the first one who noticed my boss. Hosss eyes got big, like when someone saw something scary in one of those old cartoons, and he tried to stop and run the other way but the ground in the clearing was too slippery and he just fell on his ass. By then, Jimbo and Tex had also looked up and seen my boss and some of his assistants, but it was much too late by then. I do wonder what they thought, when they saw a seven foot tall man-shaped thing with the head of a stag and the torso of a man and big, muscular, sinewy goat legs. My boss has big, brawny arms and always carries an ax and hes very theatrical about his kills. His assistants- devotees, really- who look just like him, only a little smaller and a little less majestic, prefer to use daggers. In a matter of moments, the fight was over and the frat boys died screaming. The rest of the clearing was, as always, peaceful and placid, the very image of prelapsarian bliss. A frog hopped into the pond and made a splash while one of the Stag-headed god's underlings ripped off Hoss's right arm and began to munch on it serenely. He knows nobody will question that a college girl standing around in a polo shirt and holding a clipboard must be an official of some kind. Never mind that Older Hills is much too rich and full of old money to do anything so common as offer guided tours through their goddamn woods. The only things the Older Hills Parks and Rec department really cares about is its annual cocktail gala in the park. No matter how many times I lead sacrificial victims to their doom here in this enchanted and hallowed space, I always get so jittery. It is such a thrill to serve a powerful, virile, laughing god. The compensation is also amazing, but most of the time I do it just for the awe. My boss says I'm the best guide he has ever had. Hell not just my boss, my GOD. An hour later, it was all over but the feasting. “Youve served me well, as always, ” my boss beamed at me while he munched languidly on Texs brain. The clearing was strewn with body parts and blood and viscera. Someones liver was strung up on a yew tree and some crows had already begun nibbling on it. A camo hat and a MAGA hat, smeared with blood and dotted with bits of scalp, were dangling from limbs on trees down by the lake, and someone's hiking boot, with the foot still inside and oozing blood, had caught the attention of some more crows who were pecking greedily. I saw one of them pull a big chunk of something out of the boot and then fly off to enjoy his prize. One of the Stag Headed Gods devotees had ripped the skin off of Jimbo's face and eaten it like string cheese, and was now playing with his big fat skull, pretending to make it talk, “Well howdy, lil lady, ” he said in a perfect Texas drawl that made me giggle. I took Tex's roll of 20s and put it in my backpack. The tips are my favorite part of the job, I tell you what. Older Hills is such an opulent, pretty how town, and yet just a few miles outside town deep in the forest a ritual of such violent, primal, savage pandemonium is the law of the land. Sometimes I think about what a contradiction this is. But the thing is, I believe that many of the first families of Older Hills have a bone deep understanding that there is something that lives out here in the woods, and that as long as He stays healthy and happy the town also stays healthy and happy. The Stag Headed god is so old and so strong, older than Older Hills, and I believe that is why no one ever questions why so many people go out into the woods with a high school girl pretending to be their guide and never, ever are heard from again. Pretty how towns know to keep their secrets.
Sleeping Titans. Then. The rhythm of the drums. Fast enough to move the host forwards. Slow enough to keep them on their feet. Powerful enough to echo across the heavens. Soft enough to match the pulse of the heart. The drums of first herald of death. The drum had beat for millennia, pounding in time with the march of Humanitys indefatigable legions. The war in Heaven had raged for eons. God and Mortal alike had begun to forget what had started Humanity's grand crusade. But no war can last forever, and despite the will of the Gods, Humanity marched on. They marched through lakes of fire. Marching on, even as the screams of burning men shook the heavens. They marched until the blood of burned men quenched the flames. They marched over vast chasms whose darkness seemed to extend forever. Humanity marched on, even as the yawning gap swallowed all who cross it. The men of Terra marched until they could cross the vast gulf over the backs of the fallen. They marched on through the heart of oblivion. Marching on even as oblivion tore flesh and muscle from bone and sinew. The soldiers of man marched until even oblivion had satiated its appetite and could devour no more. They marched until the golden city of the divine stood before them. The vast host of humanity marched upon the ancient city and demanded entry. They demanded the lives of the gods and those who still served them. Why they did not know. But they knew that their fathers and their fathers before them had sought the destruction of the Gods. For the soldiers who stood before the golden gates: that was enough. They were denied their wish and so the massed army of Humanity took the city by storm. Blood, both mortal and divine, flowed as those gods too brave or too unimportant to retreat to the citadel mixed with the crimson blood of humanitys champions. The gates of the citadel, the last bastion of the Gods, loomed large. But it, much like the city it was supposed to defend, had not been designed for war. The host of humanity had been reduced to a mere fraction of its size. And though they were battered, bloodied, and utterly exhausted by millennia of war, they were more than equal to the Gods cowering within their crumbling fortress. And so it was that the gods, the Not with the fury and rage of the opening days of the war but with impotent whimpers and pathetic final gasps. The march home, away from the dead husk of a city and the ruined shell of a fallen bastion was long. The drums fell silent as none had the strength to beat them. The proud march had become a dead mans shuffle. What returned to Earth, a world which had been thoroughly reclaimed by nature, were the tattered remnants of a once glorious army. Had there been any with eyes to see, they would have been hard-pressed to decide if they saw victors or the vanquished. But Earth was empty. Every human. Every man, woman, and child had taken up arms in their war to survive. And though Humanity had become a shell of what they had once been, though they had witnessed things no mortal ever should have, heard and done things which should have destroyed them, they returned. Victorious. They would rebuild their world. They would reclaim their empire. They would restore all that which had decayed in their absence. But they would rest. And so it was that the gods died. That the final soldiers of humanity closed their eyes and let sleep, deep sleep, claim them. So profound was their exhaustion, so complete their fatigue, pernatural the lengths to which they had pushed themselves that they fell into an equally supernatural sleep. They slept as the days turned into years which turned into centuries… They slept as nature wiped the final traces of their cities from the face of the Earth. They slept as their star died and was reborn. They even as the universe died and began anew. Earth remained. Humanity remained. But not as they were. New life grew from the carcasses of the slain gods on worlds formed from the bones of that which was. But it was humanity and humanity alone who drank deep of the blood of the gods and thus did their dreams beget reality. The Human realm was a strange place, twisted as it was by their dreams and nightmares in equal measure. It was as much a home to Eldritch Horrors, abominations, and creatures of supernatural power as it was to worlds of breathtaking perfection, oracles, and of course ruins of places which once were and the ruins of the universe that one was. Time passed, and life climbed from primordial oceans onto land. These new species looked to the stars with the same wonder and curiosity of those who had come before. Time passed, and Humanity still dreamed. And though their dreams subverted swathes of the galaxy, they were still tethered, however loosely, to the world which had created them. As younger races left the cradle of their world, they found the breaches in space which humanity had once torn. And through those breaches, they eventually found one another and the twisted space which had spread from the broken shell of Earth that was. And they all reacted in much the same way. First, they were curious. Their heads filled with an untainted and unrestrained desire to see what things called the distorted realm home. Then, as science teams began to vanish, they grew and angry and afraid. They would dedicate ever-increasing resources to destroying the abominations which lived within the twisted section of the galaxy. They built mighty fleets captained by the most daring officers and filled with their bravest soldiers. They would assemble mighty fleets commanded by their best officers and crewed by heroic soldiers. They would think themselves unstoppable as they slew abominations and cleansed barren worlds. They imagined themselves to be powerful as they hunted the monsters that lurked around long dark stars and broken worlds. They would splash about like titans in the Abyssal their splashing attracted the nightmares of the deeps. Ships would go silent, leaving nothing but clouds of debris. Patrols would vanish, leaving silence in their wake. The brave crews would gather and discuss their future and that of their expedition. The wise would flee, tails tucked between their legs. The others, unwilling to shed their heroic mantle only to realize, in the moment of their deaths, that they were like candles before the volcano. Rumors would spread. Stories would be told by tired old men in run-down bars of the things they had seen in the deeps of the Abyss. They told stories against which even the most fantastical of sailors tales paled in comparison. Every species was given the same warning. Every new species told not to test themselves against the nightmares of deep space. But rare was the species who did as they were told. And so they, as all who had come before them would learn by blood. They learned to appreciate the boundaries of twisted space and the price of transgression. But with death or without, they all learned to fear the ancient powers which still lived within. Maps of the extent of the strange space were compiled, the rifts leading within were clearly marked and passage forbidden to all. To Merchants, it was an expensive inconvenience but to transgress on its borders was to write a shipment off. To Travellers, it was a concern, and so they stayed a million lightyears away. To Militaries and Law Enforcement, the stations and patrols around the expanse of restricted space were great places to shuffle useless idiots to an assignment where they could do no harm. To Conspiracy theorists, it was proof of political ill will though they themselves lacked the will or ability to do anything more than complain. But there were some. A small cadre of people. Some were insane, some were glory seekers, some were desperate with no other options, and some simply had a wish for an unconventional death. They were people who felt neither fear nor regret. They were people who would face down the monsters in the dark with courage in heart and victory in mind. They were the galaxy's last true heroes. Every member of every expedition willing to embrace certain death to solve the mysteries of the Abyss. On paper anyway. And Now. Abyss Station - 2813 Years Since the Founding "This is a terrible idea. Major Io murmured "Yes. Yes, it is. But can you blame them. General Pioz asked his subordinate "No, sir. It must be awful. To count down the days to a changing of the tides and then wonder what the abyss has in store. Io grimaced as the Cysrillian Fleet launched themselves through the rift and into the Abyss proper. "That. Is precisely why we don't count. Sector Admiral Ästö said as he finished his prayer for the lost "And if we do count, we count in generations if not centuries. I'm sorry. Major Io bowed deeply, I didn't mean to imply. Don't apologize. Admiral Ästö waved the apology away. "Speculation is natural and yours is certainly more tasteful than the kind that one may find in gambling dens and counting houses. I thought security forces were clamping down. General Pioz asked "Indeed, they are. But the galaxy is vast and their numbers limited. That being said, I do take some solace knowing that my people's suffering is not a font of amusement for the morally bankrupt and ethically compromised. Sector Admiral Ästö smiled, but there was no joy in it. "What weighs upon you friend. Pioz asked, even among his people General Pioz was particularly empathetic. "On one Abyss gives and takes in equal measure. It is true. When the Abyssal tides wash over our worlds they can and have brought ruin but. Ästö sighed, There have been years the likes of which you can't possibly imagine. I've seen the tides of the Abyss heal even incurable illnesses and cause crops to grow fully overnight, allowing a harvest a day until the tide ebbs. Optimists would say that we can control the tides and turn our worlds into paradises beyond imaging. The Pessimists say we may turn all our worlds into variations of what happened on Fyqnat. And you say. Pioz asked "I say that, so long as the balance tilts towards being beneficial, we should suffer what we must and. Ästö hesitated before sighing again, On a personal note, my nephew commands the science team. I fear his dedication to his field and his people will cost him his life. Your people will add him to the Wall of Martyrs. Pioz said quietly. He placed a hand on the Admirals shoulder, letting warmth flow through his fingers. It was a friendly gesture among Pioz's people. "And yet. Ästö said, gently removing the General's hand, I wish they had no cause to. The three officers watched as the last ship jumped through the open wound in time and space. Sensors confirming the fleet's safe arrival before the rift returned to its natural state: A grim slash on the fabric of the galaxy. "Goodbye Üzten Aztä" Sector Admiral Ästö whispered. His lips moving in a silent prayer for both successes and, should the worst come to pass, safe passage through the abyss to the paradise which his people believed must lie beyond. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. Briefing Room Recordings - 1. 7 Hours "Good. Everyone's here. Captain Techro smiled "Let's hope the gods continue to show us their favor. Reports from the other ships indicate all systems are in the green and things remain blessedly sane. Excellent. Marine Commander Hyector grinned, Intervals. He asked "Two rotations. Techro answered flatly prompting shocked looks from his general staff. "Two. Hyector spoke up as was expected from the commander of the shipboard marines. "Forgive me, but isn't that pushing it. Perhaps. but sending a ship home after a single rotation. Captain Techro frowned. "The fact is that the region around the Abyss Station Rift is well mapped. Our first priority is to track changes to the immediate surroundings. Once complete we'll send a single ship home. After that, it's unknown territory. We'll stick to trying to map the shallows, at least for now. The Shallows. Fleet Helmsman Kledon asked "We divide the abyss into four sections. First Officer Decdalyk answered, Our empire lies within what we call the tidepool. Sometimes that abyss surges and envelopes our worlds. Sometimes it recedes, and things return to normal. The Shallows are the area immediately around the rifts and generally include the outmost sections of the Abyss. Safe enough so long as you don't linger and don't get unlucky. Decdalyk continued, The Deeps are the completely uncharted sections within the abyss. What few transmissions emerge tell horror stories and speak of nightmarish creations. The Abyss " Decdalyk made a sign against evil "Something has to be at the heart of it. And since oceans only get more dangerous the farther from shore one goes. the deepest part of Warped Space is what we call the Abyss. Nothing escapes the Abyss. Not light. Not signals. Nothing. One day. Decdalyk nodded, One day we will conquer the Abyss. I hope to be there when we do. I support the Captain's plan. There are eight ships, sending one home after every rotation is both woefully inefficient we don't discover anything new, our mission serves no purpose. The Captain commanded, and they all would obey, but reaching consensus among the general staff was always desirable. "Thank you Dec. Captain Techro smiled "Point is. Chief Science officer Üzten Aztä began " Common knowledge holds that The Abyss gets more dangerous the deeper you go. Suda and I. The young prodigy gestured towards the almost ancient Chief Engineer who nodded in response" the numbers and sending a ship home every two rotations balances the desire to survive against data collection. Anything less, and we become woefully inefficient. Anything more and we risk stumbling upon a Horror and being destroyed. And no. Aztä shot a glare at the communications officer "The Warped Nature of the Abyss means that signals are almost impossible to send out and even if they do survive they are invariably corrupted and what emerges is a garbled mess. The infamous transmissions of 2799 and 2401 came from a capital class super destroyers, and a specially manufactured capital carrier sized transmission array. We don't have the equipment because in 2808 it was determined that whatever is warping space is responsible for the garbled transmissions and is therefore beyond us to understand. Two rotations a ship. With some luck, we'll be home in time for the Founding celebrations. Aztä finished his glare daring any of his peers to offer a challenge to him or his optimized numbers. None were forthcoming. "Now. Captain Techro barked, drawing attention back towards his end of the table. "Our first priority is to confirm previous maps of the area, any changes are to be reported for further investigation. Captains Izor and Sert, you two are to take section One. Understood. The two Captains saluted and vanished from their holographic display. "Captains Senotomon and Vurta will take section two. Olpot and Bwut, sector three. "Zirt take the Freebird and scan section four and then return to chart the immediate vicinity. As per protocol, if data streams from all other ships fall silent, you are to withdraw back to Abyss Station. Captain Zirt nodded as his avatar winked out of existence, leaving only the senior officers of the Dauntless behind. "We. Captain Techro began "Will be following up on the last reported location of the expedition of 2313. Any questions. Techro asked "ETA. Hyector asked "In normal hours. Engineer Suda said, obably similar. Maintain general readiness commander. Captain Techro said, We have a long sixteen days ahead of us. I don't like including entire records. I feel the impersonality of recordings defeats the purpose of maintaining a personal diary. That being said, it is important to chronicle the orders which began our mission in earnest. The Expedition of 2313 was a hastily thrown together affair consisting of only three ships crewed by deserters, criminals, and commanded by officers barely worth their brass. Their orders were to scan the areas immediately surrounding the Abyss Rift. For whatever reasons they failed to return and after four weeks of waiting they were declared dead. Upon our entry into Warped Space, we found the emergency beacon still broadcasting. For that reason, and to provide definitive closure to those still on the other side the Captain, with whom I agree, has elected to investigate the site of their disappearance. The signal emanates close to a black hole but shows no signs of Temporal Distortions so it should be safe to approach. The Black Hole itself seems to be bleeding radiation at an impossibly accelerated rate. Whatever the case, this promises to be interesting. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 11. 3 Hours in the Abyss. Six hours turned into ten, and we are only just approaching the signal. Engines are performing to expectations and Kledon plotted the most direct course. There is no reason why our trip should have taken so much longer, but it has. Strange. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 13. 5 Hour s The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors. We have discovered what happened to the expedition of 2813. And I. I saw something. It defies my comprehension, even now I'm trying to parse what I saw. Singularity X-17 is the 17th singularity discovered from the Abyss Station Rift, formally known as Rift X. And it is being perhaps it is being subsumed, or maybe something else entirely different is happening. Perhaps I Let me simply say what I saw. A proper explanation will have to wait until we're back in Senate Space. It was as though the ships were caught and torn from stern to prow. Struck from behind by an immense force and split along their length. We didn't notice it at first because all our scans were concentrated on the most ncentrated pieces of wreckage which included the beacon. The crew were all dead, but it was quick. I suppose we should be grateful for that small mercy. As we followed the trail of debris towards the Singularity, Helmsman Kledon noted that the expected distortion due to the presence of the Singularity had not materialized. This prompted Communications Officer Piuts and Engineer Suda to conduct their own analysis. Both officers concluded that Helmsman Kledon was correct: Singularity X-17 acted like a singularity in all ways save for the distortion of time. Space was still distorted, but time remained unaffected. Focused scans revealed what I believe to be the source: An entity of some sort was feeding off of X-17. It was, for lack of a better word, devouring the black hole faster than it could accumulate mass. I estimate that the black hole will be consumed entirely within the decade. What the creature does with the accumulated mass and why it fails to behave like a singularity itself and why it prevents temporal distortions. I can't even begin to guess. For its part, the creature seemed harmless. It detected our presence, bombarded us with radiation, and left us alone. I can only assume it deemed us an unsatisfactory source of mass. As far as the fact of Expedition 2813 is concerned: I believe that the Entity was on its way to feed on X-17 when it collided with them. From what we could see and assume from its diet of black holes it must be massive and its spacial distortions alone would have ripped Expedition 2813 apart. From what our sensors could glean, it was massive, and even if it failed to make direct contact, its sheer size and mass would have been enough to send ripples through space. This would be consistent with the damage done to E-2813 but doesn't explain why it wasn't causing further distortion to the space around X-17. After just over an hour of scans, the Captain ordered us to depart, our purpose fulfilled. I am torn. I would have loved to stay longer and get closer but. had we been destroyed the data we gathered would have been lost. As I write this, my notes on the creature and the gathered data is being uploaded to Zirt and the Freebird. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 24. 1 Hours The Captain has ordered a change in plans. A rare maneuver for him. The Abyss has shifted and the old maps while not entirely useless have been rendered crude facsimiles. As though someone drew them from a combination of memory and second-hand notes. Unfortunately, Captain Senotomon was killed when the Escé was attacked by an ancient battle station. Previous expedition reports indicated that the station was almost completely destroyed. Unfortunately, when Captains Senotomon and Vurta entered the system, they found a station that was both intact and hostile. Its weapons, old magneto-plasmic cannons, shouldn't have been a threat but Senotomon caught an entire salvo before he knew what was happening. Some of the crew survived but most perished when the ship was destroyed. Captain Vurta survived, but the Lokzim was heavily damaged in the battle. The Freebird has transferred its compiled data to the Lokzim and will take over its scanning duties before returning to its post by the rift. An interesting wrinkle: I was able to analyze the data and compare scans taken from the 2765 Expedition and confirm that it was the very same station they encountered. How it went from being an ancient cloud of scrap to an equally ancient but intact and powered station is a question far beyond my ability to answer. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 55. 9 Hours It had been an uneventful day. The men were starting to relax, and the Captain had even contemplated moving to a state of reduced readiness. Though I believe that was more to appease the marines than an actual desire to let his guard down. To preface this event: It will surely be recognizable to those who had studied the so-called 'Tidepool' region. The Dance of the Dead It is an event in which spirits of the Ancients, the race which many hold responsible for creating the Abyss, return as echoes. While it is thoroughly disconcerting to see phantoms moving through walls and conversing in an incomprehensible language with other ghosts, it isn't actually dangerous. The Dance of the Dead is perhaps the most looked forward to event of the Abyssal Tides as it offers insights into the lives and happenings and cultures of a species that we all know we will never meet. It also, when witnessed by the right person, has advanced the technology of the Senate races by centuries. Most spectacular was the Dance of 1743: A mathematics professor became swept up in the dance and had the fortune to witness a lecture held by the Ancients. Though it took him the rest of his life, he was able to decode a portion of their mathematics. Based on his work, we developed working Zero Point energy and have a partial understanding of the theories of Dark Matter and Entropy subversion. The point is that while we had all seen, experienced, or knew of the Dance of the Dead, it was very different within the Abyss. This was more of a battle of the dead or melee of the dead or rampage of the dead. For almost seven hours, the Ancients came to life. But this time it wasn't the banal day to day. this time they were living out their ancient wars. We couldn't understand them of course but when people appear wielding everything from clubs to swords to guns on your ship and start fighting. Eight crewmen were killed across the remaining six ships while another twenty suffered various injuries when the Marines panicked and opened fire. More damaging will be, I fear, the mental strain that this event has caused. The marines who fired won't face disciplinary actions, but that won't do much to salve their conscience. No damage to the ships so I suppose that's nice. 9 Hours The Freebird has been dispatched with a data packet and the wounded and has returned with fresh volunteers. Found something interesting. A wrinkle within a wrinkle. A sign? Perhaps. Crunching numbers with other Science Heads and engineers and techs and everyone who can. Logic is there. Can't understand it. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 57. 0 Hours If our theory is correct we've discovered a pattern within the distortion. It definitely means something. I wish I knew what. I'm thrilled, of course. Teasing even a single secret from the Abyss is more than most people ever accomplish but. if I can't figure out what the pattern means it'll feel like a hollow triumph. Addendum: Sloppy, I know. But I spoke with Corpsman Tüe who, despite his outward appearance, is actually quite the historian. He realized that the pattern coincided surprisingly well with the Abyssal Tides. My peers and the Captains have all agreed to pursue this line of inquiry. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 102. 5 Hours in the Abyss. For the last two days we've been following the pattern. Admittedly it has cost us what I believe were several potentially fascinating anomalies and oddities, but the Pattern has revealed its overarching nature. And yes, for lack of a better name we have decided to refer to it as 'The Pattern. And it appears the 'The Pattern' does, as Corpsman Tüe suggested, have something to do with the Abyssal Tides. But I am getting ahead of myself. The series of events that led to the discovery of the Pattern is relatively straightforward. Upon discovering that an anomalous trinary pulsar system was a mirage we began to head to a point flagged as a point of interest by Expedition 1791. On our way, we detected the Pattern and, as per protocol, the information was relayed to the Freebird which was receiving data from all six remaining survey ships. Communications Lieutenant Siput aboard the Freebird realized that the same pattern had been observed by the other five vessels. Captain Techro, fearing that something strange was about to befall the crew, ordered them to regroup by the rift. After a brief discussion, it was decided that the Pattern was too strange to be ignored. Thus the Dauntless returned alone to the position where it was first detected. Strangely, The Pattern was only detectable in a tiny band of space. Reducing ourselves to maneuvering thrusters and only the least sensitive of our sensors, we were able to detect the few unit wide band from which the Pattern emanates. Taking my offhand comment at face value, Helmsman Kledon began attempting to follow the pattern. Lo and behold the Pattern is consistent across this very narrow band of space. Captain Techro ordered the other ships to follow suit, and after following the Pattern for over ten hours, it is safe to assume that it runs across the entirety of the Abyss. What I don't understand is why. It looks, for all intents and purposes, like the kind of demarcation line one would expect on a map. My working theory is that the notion of "Abyssal Tides" and "The Abyssal Shallows" and such are actually correct. It stands to reason, at least from my point of view, that the Abyss does, in fact, consist of multiple sections. How or why I'm not sure. Also of note is that the pattern has detectable spikes lack of a better word: intensity. The intensity spikes and then immediately returns to what we've taken to calling the 'Null Value. These spikes and drops coincide almost precisely with the Abyssal Tides as recorded by the Senate. Unfortunately, the rises towards critical mass seem to be random, sometimes rising slowly other times more rapidly. Thus it is useless as a predictive measure. Still, I can't help but wonder. Perhaps the Pattern acts as some sort of barrier for the energies or creatures of the Abyss and releases them into normal space once their activities become too great to constrain? Is that a sign of an intelligence seeking to defend the rest of the galaxy? Are the Ancients trying to keep the denizens of the Abyss inside? Is this proof that they are still alive? Proof that they're friendly? Or is the pattern merely a by-product of the tides like weathering on a rock? I have no idea, and that's both infuriating and preventing me from sleeping. I think I'm going to raid Commander Hyector's moonshine still. Senatorial Ship Dauntless (Condemned to the Abyss. 112. 2 Hours in the Abyss. The Pattern has been re-dubbed the Cliff. I wish we would stop letting the Marines name things but, after the Dance of the Dead, I don't blame them for sitting on their hands. It appears the Pattern does not like being followed, which has led some to claim the Pattern is alive. They tried to dub it "The Worm" but both the Captain and the Commander nixed that idea. Regardless. We detected a massive spike in intensity and then the expected drop rendering the Pattern or "The Cliff" almost entirely undetectable. At the same time, the Izonzo and Captain Agwystan Izor vanished. We found nothing upon reaching their last confirmed position. They are presumed dead. Swallowed by the Abyss. 4 Hours in the Abyss. The Abyss is not done with us. Captain Sert of the Fegtu crossed the Marines are claiming he joined Captain Izor and "Fell of the Cliff. I'm starting to agree with them. I'm. I'm not scared per se. I knew this was likely to be a suicide mission, but. I was I thought that if I would die, I'd die fighting some Eldritch Horror. A monster from beyond instead the Abyss kills us slowly. Like it's toying with us. and we have no recourse nor understanding of why. I think that's what bothers me the most. I'm not resigned either; it's I die, I'd like to fighting back. Struggling against my death, not just being snatched away. BAH! Enough. The truth is Captain Sert died expanding our horizons. As we experienced, the Dance of the Dead is more severe inside the Abyss than outside. We can now say with absolute certainty that it is more severe the deeper one goes into the Abyss. In this case, instead of watching the Ancients do battle or live their lives, Captain Sert and his crew "became" the Ancients. Not physically. They still looked like themselves, but they started shouting in the same incomprehensible language and the situation aboard quickly disintegrated into a slaughter as crewmembers beat one another insensate or to death. Judging by their reactions upon seeing each other or looking into a mirror they actually thought they were Ancients and their "alien" bodies coupled with the undoubtedly strange environment are what inspired their panicked and violent reactions. Captain Sert seemed to regain control of his faculties and was able to vent the ship's atmosphere. He lost himself again before he died. He died, screaming at his own limbs. I think that's what gets me the most. He died not knowing who he was or what he was or why he was where he was. He died scared and screaming until the air was ripped from his lungs. I don't want to die like that. 112. 5 Hours in the Abyss We've suffered another casualty. Moonshine tank one has fallen in the line of duty and been depleted. The tanks two and three have been deployed. The Marines aren't pleased. 7 Hours in the Abyss I'm tired. It's been barely four days, but it feels like it's been a year. I'm so tired. I almost envy the Escé, Fegtu, and Izonzo. They're all dead. They Abyss can't hurt them. Because they're dead. But honestly. I really envy the Lokzim. They were sent home after barely a day. They didn't spend enough time here to feel the Abyss eating at them. And since their ship was nearly destroyed by an Ancient battle station, nobody will begrudge them their return. They'll live. They'll spend the rest of their lives wearing their mission to the Abyss like a badge of honor. Sure. Maybe every now and then, if someone prompts them, they'll raise a glass for us. But aside from a few historians or the next mission of dead men, nobody will ever bother to remember we ever died. But if we go home, we'll be just another expedition who lost their nerve. Who realized that, deep down, they were cowards. We can't go home, but I don't want to stay. I don't want to die. I want another drink. 8 Hours in the Abyss You know. I was ready to die. Really I was. I was willing to die facing down the Abyss. But I wanted to die guns blazing or at least throwing an acid jug like a shitty stupid grenade. I didn't want to die drunk. I didn't want to die like a nobody. I. I was ready to I was. 9 Hours in the Abyss Death isn't death. I think that's what I've found at the bottom of this bottle. Death isn't death. Sure, you're dead, but I figure if being dead is the last thing you'll ever do. You might as well make sure it's a good death. A proper death. And. I guess I wasn't ready for an improper death. I think I'd have been ready if I had to run a load of fusion detonators into some nest of abominations so everyone else could escape. Getting that one final salute. knowing that, at least for a few generations, people would talk about how I died to save the rest of the expedition. I'd have liked to have died like that. We didn't notice it at first because all our scans were concentrated on the most …concentrated pieces of wreckage which included the beacon. 122. 3 Hours in the Abyss For all my moaning about death, I'm amazed it never crossed my mind that drinking more tank made moonshine might well be the death of me. Anyways. My drunken ramblings have given me clarity. Something I've lacked thus far. I am going to die here. After five days that's the only thing I can really say with any degree of certainty. And since I'm going to die, I may as well march into the afterlife with my head high. To that end, I have elected to abstain from further drink until I reach the afterlife or return to Senatorial space. I have resolved to dedicate my somewhat above average intellect to unravel the rules of this place and, thanks to the Pattern, I'm convinced that there are rules to the Abyss. I just have no idea what those rules are. 5 Hours in the Abyss The plummeting morale and poorly hidden alcoholism has not escaped the Captain's notice, and it would seem the other ships are faring much the same. Since we can't go home, Captain Techro has given us the closest we can get to actual shore leave: He has ordered us to return to the shallows and instructed the Freebird to keep the watch. For the next fifty hours, the crew has been permitted to indulge in every sort of debauchery they can conceive. The timing makes sense. We've reached the halfway point of our mission. Not in terms of time but in terms of ships. We set out with seven exploration vessels and one relay ship. We've lost four of our exploration vessels simply put we can't lose this many people since there aren't that many people left. I suppose the Captains figured we might as well have one last party. Tempting as it is to join in: I remain committed. 130 Hours in the Abyss I think my recent preoccupation with death stems from the fact that I feel responsible for the events which occurred on the Izonzo and the Fegtu. I was the one who detected the Pattern. I was the one who pushed for it to be made our focus. I'm the one who convinced the others with a mixture of persuasion and pure persistence. I'm the one who mentioned to Kledon that he might be able to follow the pattern knowing full well he'd try. I'm the one who insisted on mapping it. If not for me both those ships would still be around. I know it isn't really my fault. I was doing my job and my duty as best I could, but that rings hollow when the end result is corpses. I think that's why I'm dragging my feet with trying to confirm my new theory. No. I swore that if I died in the Abyss, I'd die doing everything I could to unravel its mysteries. No more hesitation. I must be decisive. Continues Below.
I love how Kelsey got drunk and she acted like it, and Eugene was drunk too but he was just living his life like normal Eugene. XD. I freely admit that along with my perfume habit, I have an issue with hoarding bath and body products. It's kind of always been my thing, even back in the 90's I was a preteen who spent most of my allowance in BBW and VS buying lotions and potions of all sorts. So having tried a crap ton of indie brands at this point, I thought I would review some of them in case anyone was interested. Disclosure: I am late 30's with super dry skin all over (including my hair and scalp. I don't mind greasy or thick consistency as long as it gives my thirsty skin moisture, but I'll try to note textures for those with sensory issues. I also stopped drinking alcohol and taking a long hot bath has become my winding down ritual for the day, so I've decided to go with a winner for "everyday" and also "luxury" for that extra splurge in that category. Bath potions/soaks/bombs Cosmic Cleanse CBD Unicorn Ashes. I have tried various CBD products, hoping for an extra "ahhhh" relaxation factor. Unfortunately, nothing I've tried has honestly been any more relaxing than those products without CBD. CC Unicorn Ashes are hard to purchase and, to me at least, her scent profiles are very synthetic smelling. They also are chock full of dyes (and some I think even have glitter) which can stain your tub so I have to be sure and scrub it down immediately after using. Overall, they don't offer any additional relaxation in my opinion and I can't get over the feeling that I'm soaking in a bunch of chemicals. I don't notice any additional moisturizing benefit after using. I know this is a cult favorite and many people will disagree, but oh well. Repurchase? No. Moonalisa Bubbling Salt Soaks. These were included in my very first Moonalisa order, and the fact that I've just ordered more from the Yule leftover sale is testament to the fact that I do like them. They come in a bag and while they are "salts" once they hit the water they create the biggest fluffiest mound of bubbles in your tub. I'm a sucker for Moona's scents and these leave my skin a teeny bit more moisturized afterward. The scents are great but I wouldn't say they linger at all on the skin. These are my go-to bubble bath. Repurchase: Yes. WINNER: everyday) LuvMilk Milky Bath. No big surprise to this community I'm sure, but Luvmilk's milk bath's are everything I want on a daily basis. The scents are awesome and complex for a bath product, they are colorful (although you can get them without color if you prefer) and even with color, they rinse clean from the tub. Honestly, there is not much that kills my relaxed buzz more than having to clean so I really appreciate that these don't require work afterward. They leave my skin a touch more moisturized. If I had a single complaint I wish they were just a BIT more heavily scented because I adore Milky's flavors and I want them IN MY FACE throughout the entire soak and I do feel they fade a teeny bit after they hit the water. But, I absolutely will continue to purchase always. Repurchase: Definitely. 710honeybhombs CBD Bath Bombs. 710 honey I tried when I was going through my CBD phase, and these products suffered from similar downfalls as CC. Specifically, the scent profiles were very synthetic (but not even as good as CC) and they are LOADED with obnoxious coloring that has to be cleaned out after the bath. They were also very crumbly and fell apart when unwrapping, making a hot pink/red/orange mess in the process. I noticed no additional relaxation benefit either, unfortunately. Repurchase: No. Haus of Gloi Butter Bombs. When I first got into indies, these were my go-to. They were extremely moisturizing and left my skin soft and, while nothing super special, the scents were nice. In addition, they rinsed clean after soaking. I'm not sure why, but now I'm just kind of over them. For one, they are tiny and expensive. For another, I think I've just found other products I enjoy more. If you are specifically looking for a bath bomb that delivers soft skin, this is a good one. I just won't be repurchasing from here on out. Witch Baby Bath Bombs. I'll start by saying this: Witch baby products are EXTREMELY well made and beautiful. Her bath bombs are lovingly crafted and feel really special- each has it's own little shape or design and the scents are complex and awesome. The drag about these is that although they smell good hitting the water, the scent dissipates almost immediately and I'm left with just what amounts basically to colored water (that yes, needs to be wiped away afterward. Some come with a cool little imbedded treasure inside, which is a nice touch and considering how cool they look I may occasionally purchase for gifts, but they just aren't worth the price tag for me. Repurchase (for myself at least) No. HOWEVER. WINNER (luxury) Witch Baby Bath Potions are insane. They literally feel like I picked them up from a tiny witch's cottage in the middle of the woods where they were handcrafted by some ethereal creature who sees into the depths of my fantasy loving soul. They are beautifully packaged in heavy glass jars, have the same complex lovely scents as the bombs but this time the scents linger on your skin afterward. And the soaks contain bits of dried flowers, resins, etc. which really gives the whole thing such an "apothecary" feel. I'm truly obsessed. Yes, they require rinsing afterward (and sometimes even picking flowers from around your drain) but this time, it's worth it. They are colored, but the colorings here are more natural than synthetic so if you leave them overnight it doesn't hurt anything and although I don't want to clean it up every single night, for special occasions of self-care, THIS is what I reach for. BONUS tip: The Fairy Milk scent is to die for. Repurchase: all day long. Moonalisa Salt Soaks. These are the non-bubbling version of Moona's salts. This past Yule was my first time trying them and I ordered them by accident but so I'm glad I did. I haven't totally given up my bubbles yet, but these babies deliver some STRONG scent and I love it. Even as the water is headed down the drain, my entire bathroom is filled with whatever luscious fragrance I'm using. I wouldn't say they are very moisturizing, but by virtue of the aromatherapy and salt properties, they are very relaxing indeed. Repurchase? Yes, and they may eventually phase out my bubbling salts. Alchemic Muse bath bombs. Not much scent at all, not moisturizing. Similar in size and shape to HoG. soaps WINNER (whipped) Haus of Gloi whipped soap. Another one of my old favorites, HoG whipped soaps were my original go-to, especially for shaving. I love the uber thick consistency and the seasonal scent selection was fun. I'm still ordering as of today, but I have found a new favorite so I'm slowing down. A big bonus for these over my new favorite though and the reason they still win out is that they are readily available in tons of different scents and they are cheap for the price in comparison. For those new to this format, most vendors don't like to ship these during hot summer months so be aware of that. The scents vary from very strong to hardly noticeable (and I've even had a few that I questioned whether the scent was added at all) and the strong ones linger for a while after the bath. Not crazy moisturizing, but not stripping either. Repurchase: as long as my new favorite doesn't miraculously explode with more readily available options. Cosmic Cleanse CBD whipped soap. Bright color, synthetic scents, a little less) messy but still some cleanup involved sometimes. No apparent benefit. Sixteen92 whipped soap. I love love love this whipped soap. I just wish I didn't have such a hard time getting it, and I wish it came in more scents. The consistency is fluffier than HoG, almost like Cool Whip, but still thick enough for a good shave barrier. The scents are strong but don't linger too long afterward. Someone mentioned having some chunky soapy bits in theirs and I've edited my opinion to say I've now come across some of these too, but they don't bother me too much. Like HoG, these aren't very moisturizing, but they aren't stripping either which is honestly as much as I can hope to ask for in a soap. Another tiny complaint is that the jars are probably half the size of HoG so I go through them much quicker. Repurchase: Yes, but only if they come in scented versions, I'm too lazy to "mix my own. Solstice Scents whipped soap. These are really nice too. Consistency is more like a thick lotion. Gets a great lather and moisturizing as well. For shaving as it's not as thick and so doesn't offer the same nick protection. Fragrances, as per SS usual, are extremely complex and perfume quality. I honestly don't know why I don't have more of these except for the fact that they aren't released very often and when they are the scents I'm interested in sell out quickly. Other than that, this is a solid whipped soap for those looking for a bar soap replacement. Latherati bar soap. Disclosure: I don't love bar soap. Never have. I don't enjoy that it gets mushy, collects shower debris and is difficult to house for use at a later date (hey, I like switching things up. But my husband prefers this format, so I've bought some for him and used it "for science. This proved to be typical bar soap with a scent that was virtually non-existent, especially once applied to skin and was a little drying. Repurchase: Nope. Alchemic Muse bar soap. Same song, second verse. Hardly any scent at all once used, not moisturizing. Moonalisa bar soap. This is going to be a stupid review. Stupid because I've never actually used a Moona soap although I have bought plenty. Why, you might ask? Because they are works of freaking art and I just can't bear to do anything other than give them away as gifts. If anyone has actually used one of these masterpieces, please chime in. The scents of course are lovely and the craftsmanship is divine. I currently have two shimmering gingerbread houses complete with tiny toadstools sitting in my cabinet that I can't stomach getting water on. One I actually purchased for my husband but I think I would cry watching it melt away, unappreciated in the shower with a pube stuck to the roof. Repurchase: As the most exquisite gift, yes. Witch baby bar soap. This is beautiful soap, well crafted and comes in different shapes and designs. And like moona, good for gift-giving. But it's not very scented and not very moisturizing. For the price there are better options. Edit: I just wanted to add that my first bar soap was more scented than the following 2-3. So scent strength does vary on these. Smiles by Wedelstaedt bar soap - this is by the former owner of Villianess Soap and was a collaboration with Arcana for her dangerous places collection. It was expensive, yes, but so luxuriously moisturizing and heavily scented and it's actually a pretty large bar. It was honestly my husband's favorite bar soap to date (he also has dry skin) and I'll keep purchasing for special occasions for him. That said, he uses up soap bars like nobody's business and so I can't afford to make it his daily soap. Repurchase? Yes for special occasions. Southwest Lotions CBD jelly soap. WTF. I mean seriously what is this? It's in a plastic tub, it's like a wad of hard jello, it's hard to scoop, doesn't lather, smells synthetic. Nope nope nope. Repurchase? Hard no. (WINNER bar soap. Hexennacht bar soap. I almost hate to write this. Not because I don't LOVE Hex's soaps (they're my winner, obvs) but because I know Caroline struggles so much with these. They take a lot of time to make and she's tried to do away with them on several occasions, but the fans revolt BECAUSE THEY ARE SO GOOD. So Caroline, if you read this, I'm sorry but they are the best. For one, they are beautifully crafted with swirls of color and sometimes shimmer and a good fit-in-your-hand size square shape. Second, the scents are complex perfume quality and they are strong enough to fill your bathroom and smell on your skin after showering. AND finally, they are the only bar soap I've ever tried that not only wasn't stripping but actually left my skin feeling slightly more moisturized than before. So wins across the board. Last restock, the most popular scents sold out than less than two minutes, which is a bummer but just goes to show you how awesome they are, I guess. Restocks usually happen around the 15th of each month, but watch the facebook page for updates if you are interested. Repurchase: as long as she's willing to make them, I will hone my mad rush buying skills for my bar soap loving dude. Moonalisa Milk Bath. This appears here because I didn't know where else to put it. It's called "milk bath" but what it really is, is a shower gel. Soap. Thingy. Comes in a bottle. Creamy consistency, soft fragrance. It's kind of meh to me to be honest. Not really that moisturizing and I don't reach for them often. Luvmilk Bubble wash - As a mother of two boys (one with special needs) I wash my hands A LOT. And I try to force them to wash theirs a lot as well. This little gem has become our household go-to hand wash. It comes it great economical sizes, which makes it easy to switch up scents regularly and keep it interesting. It also comes with a little pump top making it perfect for sitting by the sink. I love the scents and although not really moisturizing enough as a body wash (at least for me) it's not too stripping either. Repurchase? Yes, for this purpose. Scrubs Witch baby sugar scrub. Another category that I freely admit is not my fave. I use a Japanese salux cloth for exfoliation, so I don't feel like I need much more than that. However, I have tried plenty so I figured I'd compare for those who do love them. Witch baby, sadly, may be my least favorite of those I have tried. Although the glass jar packaging was lovely, the scrub literally dried out to a sand like consistency within a WEEK of me receiving it. Now, several months later, it is bone dry. The scent, while nice, must have been mostly contained in the now non-existent oils because there's hardly anything left of it either. Since sand doesn't moisturize, I got nothin. Alchemic Muse body scrub. These are good solid scrubs. Plenty of moisturizing oils to leave you with soft skin, dense scrubby texture for a thorough exfoliation and nice strong scents. TAT has always been lightning fast and packaging is neat and pretty. My primary issue with AM is that I just haven't found many scents that speak to me other than Voodoo and Pineapple Milk, and these are a bit more scrubby than I use on the reg (as I stated before, I don't like too scrubby for everyday use. I do adore Pineapple Milk though, especially in summer, so I maaaaaaaaay repurchase in this scent if it comes back around. Repurchase: for the most part, personally no. But this IS a good scrub so don't let that deter you. If you find scents by this maker that you enjoy and you like scrubby scrubs, absolutely go for it. Cosmic Cleanse CBD scrub. Now, I have a friend who swears by these. To her (and her husband) these are the most relaxing, sigh inducing end of the day wind down bath product imaginable. Apparently, my body is a bitch because I get none of that. For me, it's just a sparkly Barbie corvette scrub that makes me smell like a snow cone/Red 40 candy/scratch and sniff sticker and may require cleaning up after using it. They are hella hard to get and I just don't see the hype but there are plenty of people who live for them. (WINNER light-scrubby scrub) Moonalisa Sugarload Scrub. Now we're speaking my scrub language. This one is more like a whipped soap, the texture of frosting, with tiny, barely there sugar crystals for a gentle exfoliation experience. It's creamy and leaves my skin super soft. Plus, Moona's scents are again to die for. If you can stand her ridiculous TAT and it's not going to crush your soul to get a product after it's related holiday, Moona has some killer products, this being one of my very favorites. Repurchase: big yes. Cocoa pink soft bubbling sugar scrub. These fall closer to the Moona sugarload in texture, although slightly more scrubby and oily and less whipped. I like these! They are very moisturizing too and let me tell you, if you enjoy gourmands, whoa boy does cocoa pink deliver. I believe they have their TAT down at the moment, although it usually takes a good while to get things from them so may be something to note if you tend to get grumpy waiting on purchases. Another solid scrub that if I used them more, I would buy often. Since I don't, I probably won't repurchase (but you never know. WINNER scrubby scrub) Moonalisa Parfait Scrub. These are part scrub, part whipped soap, layered. Initially, I wasn't a big fan of this thing. But the scent I got it in (French Quarter coffee with jelly filled beignets) was too mouth watering to let it waste away unused so I kept trying for that reason alone. And I finally realized (DUH) that I'm supposed to be kind of mixing the whole things together so that the scrub parts don't turn straight sand like the Witch baby did. Now that I'm toward the end of the jar, I've completely mixed what's left together and it's great. The oils are extremely moisturizing and the scrub part is very scrubby. If you are a patient person, this could be your favorite extra scrubby scrub. If you're not, buy some economical perfume samples from Alchemic Muse or Cocoapink and find a scent that suits your taste and order there. Repurchase: maybe one per year in French Quarter coffee. Body oils/spray Luvmilk body spray. Great luvmilk scents, great prices, not that moisturizing for me personally. If you don't have my lizard skin and want an additional light layer of fragrance to add to your post-bath or morning routine, these are perfect. For me, they are a little too light and my skin always needs a serious drank so it doesn't quite fit the bill. I will continue to buy the little bottles to spray on my otherwise stinky little boys (they love smelling like blueberry muffins and such and the teachers like it too. Repuchase: no for me, yes for my kiddos. Solstice Scents glace. Lovely, complex perfume quality scents, again not moisturizing enough for my needs. This one is "oilier" than luvmilk and takes a bit longer to sink in, but somehow just doesn't do much regardless. It is a nice way to get another layer of your favorite perfume on if you happen to find it in your favorite SS fragrance, but since they are rarely offered and scents rotate, that's kind of a once in a blue moon opportunity. Repurchase? Only if I see it in Foxcroft Fairgrounds because I'd love for that scent to have longer staying power. Cosmic Cleanse CBD massage oil. Here it is, folks- the one CC product that really works for me! Once in a blue moon, my husband will give me a great massage and this oil seems to take it to the next level of noodle body relaxationville. Of course, anytime you get a massage it's super relaxing so I guess this could be a placebo effect, but I do think it's really doing something extra. Scents are still hello kitty loud but I can handle it here because I usually bathe afterward. Bonus, the oil isn't brightly colored so my usual bitch about cleanup doesn't apply. Insert perverted joke here. Although this isn't something I need more than one bottle of per year, I'll repurchase just to have that one bottle around when I'm completely frazzled and stressed. Witch baby body oil. As per usual Witch baby products, these little dropper bottles are gorgeous and usually include floating flowers, coffee beans, resins, etc. Scents are complex and great and the oil is pretty heavy and moisturizing. People who don't like "greasy" may not enjoy these as they do take a minute to sink in. For me, they layer nicely under lotion when my body is ashy and itchy. Repurchase? Yes. (WINNER) Black Phoenix Trading Post bath oil. I know what you're saying right now. "But mascara forever, this is a BATH OIL, not a body oil. Well folks, let me explain. This HG product is actually both because omg the moisturizing property of this oil on your skin after a bath is unbelievable. Even for someone like me who is itchy, scaly and gross in the winter time, I can soak in a bath of this elixir of life and upon exiting the tub I swear to you I could go without any additional layers and be soft as a goddess until the next day. It's magic, I tell you. Pure magic. Expensive magic but it also goes a long way. I just finished my bottle from last Lupers (Valentine's Day) with regular use so almost a year. Doesn't take that much, probably a capful per bath does the trick. Note: these are said to have a year shelf life so I wouldn't recommend hoarding them. My policy is to have no more than two bottles at a time, and at the moment I only have one. But I swear to you, I will NEVER be without. Obviously being from Bpal, scents are perfume quality and they can totally be smelled on the skin after getting out. I've also heard of people without tubs using them as a body oil so that's an option as well. Moonalisa Hydrating Mister. These are a heavier "spray" type oil. They provide more moisture than luvmilk or SS glace, and are greasier as a result. That said, they do still sink in pretty quickly. They aren't as moisturizing as the witch baby or the bpal bath oil, but they do come in moona's lovely seasonal scents and the scents are pretty long-lasting. I like using these on my boys since they also have dry skin but neither really cares for a greasy lotion. Plus, the spray bottle makes for easy application. My five-year-old loves picking out his scent. Repurchase? Yes, but mostly for my kiddos. NAVA bath oils (limited edition. I wasn't going to put these in, but what the heck. I bought them last year (the only two I'm aware of them releasing ever) and they were worth a mention. Both bottles leaked during transit and since they were expensive, that was kind of a bummer. But they are lovely oils and the bottles are something to be left out on display. Just beautiful. They aren't as moisturizing as the bpal, but they are a nice splurge to add on when you want to wear the coinciding fragrances. On special occasions, I'll soak in a bath of my EA pink bath oil and then follow up with the perfume. Repurchase? Probably not but if it's a favorite scent, maybe. Lotions Sixteen92 Ritual body lotion. Pretty good daytime lotion. Moderate moisture, sinks in quickly, non-greasy, doesn't get on clothing. Big downside, like the whipped soaps, is that they aren't offered very often and don't come in a wide variety of scents. Also, the scent I had (toasted marshmallow) was VERY faint, which I consider a con because it is so hard to get, making it difficult as a "daily" wear lotion. I do love the pump option for ease of use. Repurchase? probably not. (WINNER light moisture lotion) Luvmilk Goat Milk lotion. This is a perfect summer/fall day lotion for me. Pump is awesome for ease of use, scent is enough to be present but doesn't overwhelm or clash with my perfume choice of the day (at least in the scent I got, Ace of Clubs. It sinks in quickly, non-greasy but offers a light layer of moisture. I keep it out on my countertop and use it after hand washing as well. Workhorse around my house. TAT for Luvmilk is always pretty fast as well, making it a great day to day lotion that is easy to acquire. Repurchase? You bet. Going to try Magical girl next. Moonalisa Potion Lotion. This is similar consistency to the two aforementioned lotions. Unlike those, it doesn't come with a pump but does come in a bottle. While I like this lotion and love moona scents, for me this would be more of a daytime wear lotion because of it's light consistency. That being the case, I don't usually go for heavy scents during the day (I love my perfume) and I like something that is easier to acquire. Moona has a killer long TAT and the scents on these are usually gourmand and pretty potent. For someone else who doesn't need a ton of moisture and/or has an aversion to greasy heavy lotions, and loves strong gourmand scents, this would be a great fit. Repurchase? Probably not. Haus of Gloi Pumpkin Butter. Ok, now we're getting a little heavier. This I would call a "mid weight" lotion. Comes in a jar instead of a bottle, provides medium level moisture. Someone like me who has super dry skin to begin with would use something like this for daytime in the winter. Sinks in quickly. Downside of this one is that I don't really care for any of HoG's scents in this format. I've been through probably three jars of the unscented and I'll continue to purchase the Aether for winter skin during the day. Another "workhorse" that will probably always be around. Alchemic Muse Body Whip. This is almost exactly like the HoG above. Similar texture, similar feel, same jar. I love this in Voodoo and Pineapple you find a scent you love from this house and need a good mid level lotion, this one is a good choice. Repurchase? Probably not but maybe in Pineapple Milk when I run out just to have that scent in another layering format. Edit: Just got out of the bath and since I haven't used this in a long, long time I decided to use it again to make sure my memory was accurate. It actually sits on top of the skin a little longer than any of the other butters I have. It is also much more greasy than the HoG. So I take it back, other than the packaging it's pretty different actually. (WINNER heavier moisture lotion) Cocoa Pink Voluptuous Body Butter. My current nighttime favorite. Oh god, how I love this stuff. A little heavier than HoG or Alchemic Muse. A little greasier. Super duper moisture and heavenly edible scents make me feel like a baby skinned cupcake goddess before bed. Lately, I have noticed that while my day wear perfume choices stay away from gourmands for the most part, at night it is a totally different story. Then, I want to cover myself in the coziest cake/icing/cotton candy scent and drift off to the sweetest sugared dreams. I need a whole cabinet devoted just to Cocoapink VBB in all the scents. Repurchase? I would hoard them all if I could. Cocoa Pink Coco Mango Body Butter- Ok, so I just did a side by side hand test between this and the Voluptuous because they are sooo similar. Same jar, look exactly the same to the eye, same drool worthy scents. The main difference I see is that the Coco Mango is made with cocoa butter while voluptuous is shea butter instead. So if you can't do one of those 's a solution. The Coco is ever so slightly more of a watery texture vs. the slightly more greasy feel of the Voluptuous and it sinks in like a second faster. Dry, my skin is still super duper soft but less coated feeling. I actually really adore them both and don't think you can go wrong with either. I give VBB the winning edge because my scaly mess of a skeleton suit is so damn dry any extra bit of oil is a bonus for me. Repurchase? I'll probably always go with the VBB but I may order this again just to mix it up. Cocoa Pink Shower Butter. Editing to add this one in because I somehow forgot! This is a strange bird. When I bought it, I envisioned it as a whipped soap but it's actually a lotion you are supposed to apply while damp. a little getting used to. It's in a jar, and more like a solidified oil that softens with the warmth of your hands. It's super greasy, obviously, and turns white when it's mixed with the water on your skin before sinking in. The more I use it, the more I like it, especially for winter skin. Repurchase? Probably. Moonalisa Cocoa Cream. Another jar presentation, this one is very "whipped" with air bubbles. I enjoy the texture a lot. It does take a while to sink in, probably the longest of any of my creams. Provides great moisture as well. More watery and velvety than the cocoa pink offerings. Damn I love this one too. Moonalisa Butter Rich Cream. Moona's version of the Cocoapink twins. Heavier moisture, a little greasier than the Cocoa Cream. I've been through probably four jars of this in various scents. Witch Baby Body Butter. Let's be honest, Witch Baby. This is not a butter, it's a solid oil. This puppy is basically the consistency of coconut oil in a jar. The minute it touches your hands, it's an oil. Presentation is lovely, each of the full size jars usually comes with a cool stone embedded inside, scents are great as usual. But guys, it's an oil. So it's GREASY to the GREEZ. But listen, while even I don't use it much on my IS MAGIC ON YOUR FEET. If you are like me and get cracked nasty dry heels, put some of this on them after your bath, cover in socks and wake up in the morning to HELLO GORGEOUS tootsies. I also love it on my elbows and knees. Also, she offers an economical smaller size which is nice. Repurchase? Yes for this specific purpose. Cosmic Cleanse CBD Miracle Budder. Comes in a jar. Scents are still loud, here the colors aren't as pronounced (which is good because otherwise I'm sure it would stain your clothes) and in this format it also comes in unscented which has no color. Unfortunately, I don't ever feel any different after using it but it is a quality lotion that provides good moisture. It sinks in pretty quickly and isn't very greasy. Again, some people swear by it and if you join the facebook group you'll see it has a cult following so ymmv. For me? No repurchase. (Winner pain management/relaxation) Southwest Lotions therapy lotion with menthol. This bottle of mercy literally saved me a few months ago when, after carrying my eight year old up the stairs, I pulled something wicked in my back. If you've ever had back pain you know IT FUCKING HURTS MAN. I couldn't do anything without wanting to cry. Couldn't sleep. It sucked. For days I was stressed out thinking I was going to have to have steroid shots, or worst case surgery. I'm not being dramatic. I got this in a holiday box thinking I didn't like things with menthol but it was there so I tried it. Felt good so I kept applying it all day, over and over when the cooling sensation would subside. Y'all. The next day I swear on all things holy I was healed. Not like oh wow I feel better. Like oh thank you sweet mother of mercy it is GONE. Nothing. Nada. Back to pre injury status. I'm a believer and I will never not have a bottle of it handy. Her scents are pretty synthetic and boxed smelling, her packaging is (let's be honest) pretty home craft but this stuff is legit. Buy some now and thank me later. Like CC, she also has an almost cult following and like CC, her products take a looooooong time to arrive. Sometimes you may actually have to hound her to get it moving. But repurchase? Yes indeed. (runner up pain management) 710honeybhombs CBD butter. This is the butter I use for burns, ear aches, my mom uses for her hand list goes on and on. I was out of it when the back incident occurred so I don't know if it would have worked as well but I can tell you this stuff works like a charm. Scent smells like a fat J so don't slather it before grandma's house (unless she's cool like that) but I've used it on a screaming four years old's ear in the middle of the night and within two minutes he told me it felt better and went to sleep. I've used it on my own drunk hands that idiotically grabbed a hot casserole dish and continued the night with not a smidgen of pain. I've used it with some success on a migraine. My mom was able to use a finger she hasn't been able to move in literal years after slathering it on a few times. This is good stuff. You have to purchase it via instagram which seems kind of sketch ball but she's for real and it's a good thing to have around in your first aid kit. Repurchase? Yep. For like, medical purposes. If you've hung with me through all this. THANKS and I hope you've found something new to try! I've also tried a metric ton of hair products and lip balms and things so I may review those in the coming weeks if anyone has an interest. <3.
31:31 - , ,. Took all my covers. dogs. stop being dogs. 22:49 cuando estoy en una fiesta y mis amigos me dicen que ya es suficiente bebida, ok no chicos no beban mucho xd. 9:01 had me DYING. So beautiful god bless everyone listening to this.