July 7th Excerpt From the Journal of Violet Stone
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I don’t remember much. Just the scenery flying by me as I ran from the train station. I didn’t see anyone chasing me. But I felt chased. I didn’t know what to think, what to feel, or even where the hell I was going. The only thing I felt was fear.
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When I finally stopped, it was because I just couldn’t run any further. My lungs burned, begging me for air. So I ducked into an alley, trying to catch my breath, and organize my thoughts. The rain pounding down around me was too loud. The street was too quiet and every car that passed by sent another fresh jolt of terror through me as I replayed what had happened at the train station over and over again in my mind. The way that he’d fallen, the look on his face in the instant before he’d gone under the train. Oh God… I couldn’t get it out of my head! I couldn’t stop seeing it in my mind!
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I wanted to go home, but was that even an option? How the hell does someone just go home after something like that? I couldn’t just waltz through the door like nothing was wrong! If Sam and Lisa didn’t notice, Rose sure as hell would and that assuming that the police weren’t already there. Someone could have recognized me! That Marilyn Monroe looking girl on the platform had gotten a good look at me. What if she told someone? It didn’t matter whether I’d meant to push the guy or not! It didn’t matter how much I’d fucking hated him at the time. He was dead. I was responsible. I’d pushed him. It was my fault.
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‘I’ve just fucking killed a man!’
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That thought… that reality didn’t feel real. It hadn’t truly hit me yet.
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‘I’ve just fucking killed a man!’
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I felt sick. If I actually had anything in my stomach, I might have even thrown up. Moving made me feel even worse, so I just stood there, letting the rain soak me to the bone, shaking from the horror and the cold while I tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do next. But all I could think about was the way he looked as the train went over him, and wondering if anything would have changed if I’d at least tried to grab him. Could I have caught him? Could I have saved him? What then? What would happen next? As far as I knew that motherfucker had murdered my goddamn parents! Should I really have even bothered trying to save him? Maybe I should have felt vindicated by all of this? Maybe this was some kind of justice, right? It sure as hell didn’t feel like justice. It’s not like I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this had been the guy! There were doubts! There were a lot of fucking doubts!
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I heard the sirens in the distance. But nobody came for me. I saw a police cruiser pass my alley. It didn’t stop for me, but it did make me think about my sweater. The goddamn sweater… it would probably be enough to identify me, right?
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For a moment, I thought about turning myself in to the police. I mean, maybe once I told them that it was an accident, then maybe they’d be cool with it and let me go? I mean, the police are just known for being trustworthy and reasonable, right? What did I possibly have to worry about with them? I could just turn myself in and everything would be hunky fucking dory! ‘Oh, you just threw a man in front of a fucking subway train! Yeah, no big. Go home! Take a load off! Get some coffee! Try not to think about the man you just threw under a fucking subway train!’ Yes! Go to the police Violet! Great idea! And while you’re at it why don’t you do it in the fucking nude too? GREAT IDEA VIOLET! ALMOST AS GREAT AS THE TIME YOU THREW A MAN IN FRONT OF A FUCKING SUBWAY TRAIN! REMEMBER THAT?
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I took off the sweater and abandoned it in the nearest dumpster. I hid it under some trash bags and hoped to God that nobody would ever find it, then, after standing in the rain like an idiot for several minutes with no idea on where to go next, I started walking home.
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Nobody noticed me.
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Nobody followed me.
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The city was just… quiet. Not quiet, quiet. But nothing felt out of place. The world around me almost felt normal, and it was my own fault that the normalcy felt wrong somehow.
I entered my old bedroom through the fire escape, just like I used to back in high school when sneaking out at night to drink was the worst thing I’d ever done. I could hear people in the apartment, and I listened to see if any of the voices were unfamiliar. I heard Sam and Lisa talking over breakfast, and I could hear the TV. Nothing out of the ordinary. It satisfied me enough that I was safe. I locked my bedroom door and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head and listening to the rain and the voices outside. But I heard nothing out of the ordinary. It was like nothing had happened. Like it was all just a bad dream. Eventually, I fell asleep.
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I stayed in bed until well after noon, staring up at the ceiling when I couldn’t sleep anymore. Sam and Lisa both left for work. I could hear Rose going around the house. She’d said that she had the day off, save for classes in the evening. She only bothered me once, though. Knocking on my door to check on me. I told her I was sick, and she didn’t pry. She didn’t sound suspicious. Just concerned.
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I kept replaying what had happened at the subway station over and over again in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I couldn’t stop hating the quiet around me.
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Sometimes, I wondered if it was just a bad dream. If maybe I’d never even left my room at all. Maybe I just wanted to believe that. It was better than thinking I’d just killed someone. There was a part of me that didn’t really seem to care. It still hadn’t fully hit me yet. After all, no one had come for me. So maybe it really was just a bad dream? Even if it hadn’t been, how had that man known who my Mom was? What about the things he’d said? Was it just a weird coincidence, or a horrible mistake? Maybe it was both.
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I checked my phone when the afternoon began to slip into evening. The whole event was getting hazier in my mind. I was starting to convince myself it hadn’t happened. Lisa had messaged me, asking how I was feeling. Rose must’ve told her I was sick. I lied and said I was feeling a bit better, then I checked the news.
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When I read the story I felt sick all over again. No name for my victim, no information at all. The man who’d gone under the train was just identified as ‘a man.’ That was it. Nothing else. There wasn’t even a picture of him.
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There was however a picture of me… kinda.
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It was blurry as hell. I tried to make out my own face amongst the black and white pixels but I couldn’t. It might have been me as I entered the station, although my hood was over my head, my hair was covered, and the only thing I could sort of identify was my lips, which aren’t exactly that distinct. Really, it could have been anyone in that picture. Anyone at all.
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‘An unknown possible suspect’ It said under the picture. Followed by: ‘The suspect is believed to be male, approximately 6’2 and was last seen wearing a grey hoodie and jeans.’
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They got the outfit right, and were only a little off with the height by two inches.
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All in all… I can’t say that any of this really seemed damning to me. Although the idea that the police (or at least the news) had no idea who I was didn’t do a whole hell of a lot to calm me down. The idea of ‘getting away with it’ seemed just as bad as being caught.
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For the second time that evening, I wondered about turning myself in to the police. I mean, this wasn’t exactly first degree murder. It was an accident! That had to be at least manslaughter, right? I mean, it was still a crime but it wasn’t first degree murder, right?
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Christ… I was probably committing an even bigger crime by not coming forward! Why wasn’t I going to the nearest police station? What the hell was stopping me? Fear? Fear of what, consequences? You don’t fucking kill a man and not suffer any consequences! Even if it was an accident, there had to be some kind of consequence, right?
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Was it justice? Assuming that this guy really had been the one who’d killed my parents all those years ago, did he really deserve to die like that? Thrown screaming under a train and… and…
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God I didn’t even know if it was really the guy or not! It could have been anyone! He could’ve just randomly known my Mom and just so happened to look like her killer! It wasn’t even a perfect resemblance! I mean, fuck, how many fucking people in New York have blond hair, blue eyes and glasses? Thousands at least! Justice wasn’t a valid excuse! It just wasn’t!
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I wanted to continue to lie there and stew, but I don’t know if that was really an option anymore. Slowly, I forced myself to get out of bed and head into the kitchen. I’d eaten nothing all day, which wasn’t all that healthy of a diet. As a further fuck you to my digestive system, I rummaged through the cupboard. There was a box of off brand pop tarts that I jammed them in the toaster for breakfast, if you could still call it that at five in the evening.
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While I waited for my sugar enriched breakfast to ‘cook’ I raided the fridge for a drink. I found some OJ, and wandered into the living room. Rose had already left for class, but I knew Sam and Lisa would have been home soon.
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When they did come home, they found me in the living room, under a blanket and finishing my shitty off brand pastries. Lisa fussed over me, like I knew she would. Sam just took over the TV and changed the channel to something other than the news.
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I went to bed early last night, checking the news stories again on my phone before lying awake in bed. I might have slept a little. I couldn’t really say. I was just alone with my thoughts.
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I’m not supposed to go back to Toronto for another day or so. But maybe I could leave early? Fuck off, leave all of this behind me and try to move on with my life? Sam and Lisa wouldn’t question it… much. That sounded like a horrible idea though. Just… fucking off, forgetting, pretending that this didn’t happen. It sounded like a mistake. Running away seemed like the exact kind of thing that would come back to bite me in the ass… and then what would I do? Was I supposed to just keep running from it? I knew in my gut that this would only ever make things worse. What would that do to Sam and Lisa? What would it do to Rose? I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to put them through that!
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As I lay in bed a quiet resignation settled over me… and oddly enough, with it came a bit of peace. I guess even if no one else ever found out about what had happened at Prince Street, even if I took that secret to my grave, it would still gnaw at me. I’d still be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day to come when it caught up with me. I didn’t want to deal with that. I didn’t want to put my family through that!
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So I made a decision.
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I don’t know if this will be my final entry or not.. I might not be coming back after this. Sam, Lisa, Rose… if any of you are reading this, I’m sorry. I swear to God, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
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I’m going to go to the police in the morning and I’m going to turn myself in. So if this is it… well… goodbye.
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I hope you don’t hate me too much.
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***
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Okay, so what the fuck?
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I did the right thing! I turned myself in to the police! I was ready to go to jail over this!
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Instead, I’m back in my old bedroom at Sam and Lisa’s and I’m 99.9% sure that I’m off the hook.
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I went to the police station. I told them that I was there to confess and up until that point, things went as expected. They took me to an interrogation room and I waited for someone to come and talk to me. I was in there for about an hour, fidgeting aimlessly with my hands and waiting for some kind of judgment before someone finally bothered to show up.
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The guy who walked through the door had a sort of ex military look to him. His eyes were intense and he had a muscular physique with a neatly trimmed goatee. He didn’t say a word to me as he came in. He just looked down at the file in his hands before sitting down at the desk.
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“Violet Stone, right?” He asked. Straight to business. I always thought that Detectives were supposed to come off as friendly at first. This guy seemed like he’d come in with the express purpose of kicking my ass.
“Yeah, I’m Violet.” I said.
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He looked up at me, sizing me up for a moment before huffing.
“Alright… well Violet, well my name is Vincent Bennett. I’m the Detective assigned to the Arthur White case. I understand you’re here with information, correct?”
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Arthur White? Was that the name of the guy I’d killed?
“Yeah… I was… I was the one on the subway platform with him.”
“The one who pushed him?” Bennett asked.
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I hesitated for a moment before nodding.
“It… it was an accident!” I said, “He’d grabbed my arm, I was just trying to get him off of me!”
“Right… tell you what Violet, why don’t you walk me through what happened yesterday morning, okay? Tell me everything that you remember.”
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I did just that. I told him about how I’d run into Arthur and his daughter while I’d been out on a jog, I told him about how he’d mentioned my mother and how I’d followed him, and finally I told him about what had happened on the subway platform.
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The whole time, Bennett just took notes and nodded quietly, only pausing a few times to ask a question.
“So - you attest that it was an accident, that Mr. White fell into the path of the oncoming train?” He asked.
“Yeah… yeah, it was.” I said.
“Okay. You mind if I ask why it took so long for you to come forward?” He asked, “I mean… this happened yesterday morning. It’s been at least twenty four hours.”
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“I was panicking!” I said, “Look, I didn’t know what to do or if I should come forward or what!”
“A man was killed,” Bennett replied. “And you fled the crime scene. You also took a while to come forward. Forgive me if I find any of that suspicious.”
“Well, I’m trying to do the right thing now!” I argued although Bennett’s stony expression didn’t seem to change much.
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“Miss Stone… are you aware of who Arthur White is?” He asked. “Do you know much about the White family?”
That question of his seemed awfully loaded.
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“No, why are they important?” I asked.
“Depends on which circles you run in,” Bennett replied. “I’m gonna be honest with you… Arthur White was a real piece of shit. I wouldn’t really call him the worst member of the White family. Arguably he made the rest of them look saintly in comparison. But he was still a man with a… history. You say he resembled the man who you believed killed your parents… was that your only motivation for following him to the Prince Street station?”
“He mentioned my Mother by name!” I said, “He said he knew Diana Stone!”
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Bennett paused, before looking up at me again.
“You’re Diana Stone’s daughter?” He asked.
My brow furrowed.
“What, you knew her too?” I asked.
“I’ve… heard the name before.”
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My heart skipped a beat.
“So he did kill them…” I said softly, “You’re telling me that he did kill them?”
“Arthur White was not a suspect in the Diana Stone murder, no. His-”
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Bennett’s phone started to ring before he could finish whatever it was that he was trying to say. His ringtone was the opening riff of ‘Phantom of the Opera’ by Iron Maiden.
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He paused, tensing up a little at the sound of the ringtone. Then he quietly reached into his pocket to take his phone out. He stared at the screen, which depicted a big red X on it, before quietly standing up.
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“Excuse me,” He said softly as he left the room, and for a few minutes, I sat there in the uneasy silence, waiting for him to come back. I found myself fidgeting with my hands again as I looked over at the mirror that dominated the wall to my left. I figured that there had to be someone behind it, watching me. Maybe it was Bennett? I squinted, trying to see if I could see him behind the glass, but there was no luck.
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The only thing I saw was my own reflection, squinting back at me like an idiot and the security camera in the corner behind me. I looked back up at the camera, staring into it for a moment. I wondered if maybe Bennett was watching me through there. Maybe nobody was watching me? It was hard to say. I stared back into the iris of the camera for a moment, before the door opened again and Detective Bennett came back in. I saw him stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
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Something about his demeanor had changed, but it was hard to say exactly what. When he spoke to me again, his tone was much quieter.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Stone. We have all we need. You’re free to go.”
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Free to go?
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“Wait, what?” I asked. “I… I just killed a guy! What do you mean I’m free to go!”
“You indicated that Mr. White’s death was an accident, correct?” Bennett asked. “That’s all we need. Go home, kid.”
I stared at him in disbelief. He was just letting me go? I’d fucking killed a man and they were just letting me go? That didn’t make any sense!
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“So that’s it?” I asked, “You’re not going to arrest me or… or press charges or…?”
“No. We’re not,” He said. “You’re free to go.”
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He picked up his folder and headed for the door again, pausing before looking up at the camera and then back to me. He held the door open for me, and after a moment, I got up and followed him.
“Do I need to get a lawyer?” I asked.
“That won’t be necessary,” He replied as he led me back through the police station. Once we were back at the front door, he pushed through and gestured for me to follow.
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Once we were outside, I watched him take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
“So that’s just it, then?” I asked. This whole thing still confused me.
Detective Bennett still didn’t reply. He just looked up toward the building, before taking a drag on his cigarette.
“Take my advice, kid… don’t ever look a gift horse in the mouth. It might not always be so pretty on the inside,” He didn’t look at me as he said that. He started down the steps of the police station, before pausing. “And do yourself a favor, keep your head down for the next little while.”
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“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, but Detective Bennett was already walking away from me.
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I’m not an idiot.
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Something isn’t right here. I just don’t know what.
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I keep thinking back to the phone call Bennett got. I’ve got a feeling that it had something to do with my sudden release. What I don’t know is what or why and to be honest, I’m not sure that I want to find out.
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Bennett told me to keep my head down, and I’m smart enough to take his advice.
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I’m leaving tonight.
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I’m going to let Sam, Lisa, and Rose know over dinner. I’ll think of some bullshit excuse. Maybe I’ll say that it’s a work thing, or something. They’re not going to check. I’m supposed to be heading home in a couple of days anyway, so they’re not going to think too much of it if I leave early.
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Either way, whatever the hell I’ve gotten myself into, I want to get out of it sooner rather than later.

https://imgur.com/a/YTMRNXz
In the process of buying this house (my 6th attempt in this crazy market!). The floor with the bedrooms has an obvious choice for my room (I am sole occupant). 2 small bedrooms remain at the bottom of the floor plan; there’s also a similarly sized bonus room downstairs that can be used as an office.
I need to have at least one guest bedroom and prefer to put a queen size bed in it for if my friend and her husband stay—plus queen beds are more roomy for even one person who likes to sprawl out. Thankfully the closet doors are sliders so they don’t cut into the space.
I already have a queen box spring and full-to-queen frame. The frame is one of the metal ones that doesn’t add any substantial width or length. Need to buy a new mattress as I ran out of room for the guest mattress in my moving truck 😅
So how would you arrange either or both of the 2 smaller rooms with a queen bed? (I am open to having two guest rooms and using the bonus room downstairs for my home office) but that is not at all necessary.
For the guest room(s) I am okay with tiny nightstands and no dresser. I can put a small dresser in the closet. I DO need nightstands though. I am a firm believer that a bedroom should have lamps at the bedside so you can turn off the overhead light before getting into bed. Also a place to plug in your phone! But I digress.
I am okay with them being a little slimmer on walking space. Would prefer to be able to access both sides of the bed.
TIA for the help!

23, Female, 130lb. Last night I went to bed with nothing wrong in my mouth. When I woke up, I have 3 sores, all white. The one on the tip of my tongue is around .5 cm in size, very swollen. The sides of my tongue are white and shriveled. My tongue was white earlier, like thrush, now it is yellow. This all happened overnight and I'm not sure what it could be. I live in Nevada, I'm a daily drinker. Any advice please

Part 2
If you travel far enough North on the map, well above where the Civilized Nations stop because no crops grow, you'll find a mountain range. Crossing this range leads to the Monster Kingdom, though for some reason they prefer the name 'TFSU.' Yes, they prefer. The literal forces of anarchy and chaos in the universe have a government. However, ignoring that whole thing, the Monster Kingdom is fine. No armies march on them, mostly because of supply and logistical issues. The Monsters never say how they grow their own food, but given that they don't trade and millions of kobolds worth of food don't go missing every day, it's safe to say they make their own. Now, that doesn't stop the Civilized Nations to send one hero a decade to 'keep them in check.' Four decades ago, the hero closed off a mountain pass, which was supposed to cause a massive flood. Four days later, it was cleared, and the only thing to show for it were the cities that glow like the sun at night. However, yesterday, the Hero returned having burnt one of the bigger cities down. It was empty of all monsters, but the act was the first real damage they had taken in seven hundred years, since their founding. For seven hundred years, the TFSU have taken the beating of seventy heroes and simply moved on. But now. Now, millions of kobolds make up heavy 'machinery' units that march in armored, self-moving caridges that spit fire and metal. Thousands of beastpeople make up scouting and light infantry ranks. The TFSU use hellish 'guns' that hit harder than a catapult from kilometers away, all in a single 'bullet' not the size of a human's thumb. Metal birds and dragonflies join dragons as they assault cities. We poke the very literal sleeping dragon in the eye. Yet the armies don't do much. They march for our capitals and leaders, but on the way our civilians live. Surendees live. People go about their daily lives without too much change. Of course, that fact didn't stop the front line from finally crashing over my small village, located so close to the pass for a while we thought they the monsters had bypassed us entirely. The Civilized Nations had decided to send an entire legion to prevent the Monsters from getting across a nearby canyon pass. We were hit with an air-based assault with only dragons and metal dragonflies, our balista uselessly demolished by pillars of metal and flame thrown out of the metal dragonflies. I blacked out when the legion managed to shoot enough arrows to take down one of the dragonflies. I remember it crashing down onto my house... and then nothing.
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The elf stirred as they woke up. I'd been raised in the Terra Firma Sapience Union, so I was... less than familiar with the clothing and lifestyle the Southerners used. The elf groaned again, before their eyes shot open and they looked around, quickly settling on my frame. "A-Are you going to kill me now?" They asked, their voice shaken with fear. I let out a laugh. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead." I decided to transmorph into my secondary form - a cat - to help the conversation go better. In a land where humans lived to forty, elves only lived to a hundred, and that meant that even I was older than this elf, and they were no older than thirty. The elf, to their credit, quickly figured out I wasn't pulling any mindgames. I'd heard tales from my relatives before the Kobolds founded the TFSU. People, especially when panicked, usual acted with more than enough stupidity to make the situation worse. "Where am I?" The elf asked. Their tone told me that they were still suspicious, but it wasn't outright denial of the situation. "My home," I answered bluntly. "Your village tried to fight our ground forces when they moved in, so most of them are currently under house arrest." Still in my cat form, I created a portal into my storage cavern and reached my arm through, while summoning a lab coat around my shoulders and glasses. It was a trick I had only learned to do recently. "Let's see..." I found the clipboard and brought it out, flipping to the elft's page and taping the pen against the paper. "You suffered a collapsed lung, severe burns on the right side of your body, three broken ribs and two fractured ones, shattered three wrist bones, three breaks in your right upper arm and another two in your lower arm, and on the left side you have another fractured rib and three broken fingers. Your left leg was shattered and your left foot was completely torn up. Healing magic stabilized you and surgery did the rest. You've been comatose for the past three days, and was brought to my home yesterday due to a surge in hospital patients from the seige of Trembolorne. "In terms of organ damage, that was also severe. A busted kidney, I already mentioned a collapsed lung, and your entire digestive system was... well, pulverized would be putting it lightly. Also, unrelated to the incident with the helicopter, you had cancer in your liver and kidney. "In terms of medical treatment, you've been given an IV line for the past couple days and several painkillers, and you underwent four separate surgeries. We reconstructed your organs, welded your bones to metal plates, and used a genetic printer to replace your skin. You're lucky to have gotten time with the genetic printer in the first place, you know; those things are expensive, and I mean expensive to run. Though it's all billed on the government anyway, but that just means that they'll only run it if they have to." The elf sat up in bed looking at me as I just stood on two paws on the cave floor. "Right, sorry, you wouldn't understand most of that." I sheepishly scratched the back of my head with my right paw. "Um... put this way, you were crushed by debris and we basically reconstructed your body before you died. So not necromancy, though you did get close to needing more advanced magical treatment." "Oh," The elf replied. The cat thing seemed to have helped, because they were no longer stuttering with their single word response. "Um... do you want anything to drink?" I tried to kickstart a conversation. "Where am I?" The elf asked again. I was silent for a second. "My home? It's right on the edge of TFSU territory, one of the southernmost places you can be while still being with the recognized borders. I chose this place because I like to fly out in the summer over the flowers in the forest at the foot of the mountains. Your village is a couple hour dragon-flight time away." "Mmmhm." The elf commented halfheartedly. "OK, um... who are you?" "My dragonic name isn't something most can pronounce, so my public name is just Vixie Remminie." I answered. "What's yours?"
The elf's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know my name." I blinked. "Because... It's a name? I'm not a Fey, you know, it's not like I can tie ancient demons to your soul and call it a prank or something ridiculous like that. Besides, you asked for mine; now I get to ask for yours." "And who says you won't just burn my village to the ground and eat me right now!?!" The elf suddenly burst out. "You monsters ruin everything! You trespass on our land, take our resources, and kill our people! All we did was try to defend ourselv-" I cut him off, and poured just a bit of attention in giving myself an aura. Blue fire licked the bottom of my vision as I rebuttaled his point. "Don't forget, you stole the land from us. We were the ones living in the wild when you razed our forests and grew crops. We couldn't even purchase land to live on! So yes, we stole what we could to survive and those who didn't starved and died! And when all was said and done, you tried to kill us and turned it into a war, one where we had no choice but to kill you back. And when we found someplace to run, a spot to hide and do our own thing with our own land? You blistering idiots sent you 'courageous heroes' to try and kill us! What for? Nothing! Just your stupid, moronic fear making, forcing you to decide to 'kill the big thing over there!' We can't even have freaking farmland, we have to grow it all in hydroponic farms and harvest thousand-year-old vines out of caves because this is all we have!" I realized that my aura was burning fully and scorching the ground around me. I let out a long sigh, and it died down. Several memories flashed through my head, but I pushed them away. "Apologies, my parents are still a... sensitive topic for me. It would be best if we just stayed away from talking about the war until the hospital has room for more patients again." "Yeah?" The elf was still enraged. Even sitting down, they were still trying to construct an argument. "You parents who killed how many? Your family killed how many more? You dragons, you monsters are nothing more than one large grouping of murders that deserve to die! As the gods will!" The elf was spitting in rage, but I recognized his determination to hold onto his worldview. It was the one thing I needed to pry away before it got out of hand. "And you elves killed how many more?" I asked in a low voice. "Can you tell me the number of kobold dens exterminated in caves, the number of beastpeople sent to an early grave in slave camps? Because I can tell you ours. My father's was two, my mother's four, and my extended family including deceased relatives is one hundred and thirty seven. "You declared war against monsters, you child of an elf," I growled. "And death the reality of war. We know. The Unification Wars weren't fought with swords and honor. They were fought with artillery barrages and death. They were fought with miniature suns and political backstabbing, with tanks and guns and submarines and warships and all the more death. "You say the gods don't like us! That's put lightly. They forsook us! Abandoned us in our hour of need. So we learned to live without them. There are no gods we pray to anymore, elfling. Only each other, our creations, and the universe itself. They don't want us, we don't need them. It's more than they deserve." My aura was once again charring the floor and I had transformed back into my dragon form, but this time I refused to cool it down. "You call us creations of death, the primal forces of anarchy? We are you. You are us. We are sapient, we are all mortals, no matter our advantages. We are bound to this dimensional plane, forced to serve our betters, and live out our lives not with earnest but with trepredition for when it ends. We are all death incarnate, because we can all die. That is just the way it is. Besides, you've wondered about my kill count; tell me, can you tell me the gods'? Can you tell me how many souls they have cut from fate for their own entertainment? No? I can tell you." I growled, moving closer until the blue flames enveloping my body threatened to light the elf's cot on fire. "More people than are alive on this planet right now." I pulled back, bottling up my aura and reverting to my cat form. "We can talk all we want about death and destruction, and I won't lie and say you aren't victims of the war; pre-unification dragons we're exactly kind and merciful to those with treasure hoards. But perhaps, I implore you to consider that maybe we both are victims of the war, and maybe we can one day work together instead of fighting each other. "Maybe, one day, we can fight for our rights against the gods." I moved into my dragon form and darted deeper into my cave, moving so fast I could hear the howl of the wind against my ears. Only when I had reached my memorial wall for my parents did I stop and take a breath and think over my conversation with the elf. We had a long way to go, but I hoped I had put a little bit of sense into him. I hoped that the world could change.
-----
When the dragon cat thing sped away, I took a moment to survey my surroundings. Only now did the effects of my first question hit my formerly-groggy head. "My home." He said. Dragons live in caves. Oooooh. I'm screwed. However, there were no treasure hoards visible from my perspective; then again, while the Monsters were stupid, they still had brains to them, and carrying me into a treasure room would probably be something they'd be able to tell was a bad idea. Pops said never underestimate you foe, A voice in the back of my head said, and the dragon even launched in a full conversation with you. You're selling the dragon very, very shor- Shut up I growled internally to the treacherous voice in my head. The cave itself was... a cave. There was a metal slab on one end, it went deeper in the other, and that was that. In a 'corner' of the jagged room there were a number of red, glowing rods attached to some kind of giant mechanism three elfs wide and six deep, but the rods glowed against the cave's light- What light source? My eyes darted around looking for one. Only now was I aware of how unnatural each shadow was, how awkward each shining rock looked, how each stalagmite could hide an entire dragon, and that was before they started transfiguring into cats. How bright the ceiling- I looked up. The bright light burned my eyes, but I needed to know what fiendish magic was in play so I could counter it. But the light didn't flicker like fire - they were far too bright for that anyway - but they also didn't have the magical circles surrounding each spell. They were... lights. As if the universe simply willed brightness into existence. Each far-too-bright-hurts-to-look-ats was placed along a main hallway clear of stalagmites running from the metal slab deeper and around a corner where I couldn't see. The lights were only poised above this one hall, and they just... shone one the rest of the cave. Looking closer, I could see thin black lines, too thin to be mana feeds, running along the walls to both the glowing red rods and to the so-shiny-the-lit-up-the-cave. And... that was that. There was no massive pile of treasure in the hall, though I suspected the dragon kept their hoard deeper than... wherever I was. There was no pile of skull trophies or the banner of cities and armies slain, and I noted that while he had told me his parents', the dragon had never told me his own. Then again, the cat thing could be lying. Dragon transfigured into a cat. Probably has Circle Of Truth around his entire den. Nonsense, dragons can only do elemental magic. Evidently not. Would you just shut up already? No- I moved my attention back to the metal slab, cutting off whatever the voice in my head had to say about my current situation; it wasn't every day one just got kidnapped by a nation of monsters, after all. The slab was truly elegant. It was painted with the monster language, and then was painted with some kind of mural. I could barely make out a blue circle with green splotches on it surrounded by twelve rings in the bottom corner because most of the door was taken up by a ice-blue cat with lighter strips engulfed in blue fire. It was a mural of the dragon cat thing. That didn't stop it from being pretty, and someone had obviously put a lot of effort into it. The flames looked realistic from what I had seen minutes ago, and the cat's details were perfectly engraved. It was... acurrate. Yeah, because I think Vixie was just trying to tell you that they built their civilization for a reason, and it wasn't carnage. You don't know what you're talking about. We both know I do. How else to you think- Listen to me, you treasonous voice of a- No, you listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a brain. The dragon was able to hold and win an argument with you, fixed your wounds that would've been a dead write-off for any other hospital, and then you think SHE barely meets the threshold for sapient? THE ABSOLUTE MORON I'M ARGUING WITH IS THE ONE YOU BARELY MEETS IT!!! You moved to your frontier village because the world was changing, Lazerot the Sixth. Congrats, you were right. It did change. Now shut your OVERSIZED EGO up at being bested by a creature ten times older than you, and go appologies before they decide that saving your life wasn't worth it. I... I... OK- No. I'm in control now. Shut up. I....... yes, sir. Good. With new resolve, I stood up. My head throbbed, and the next thing I knew was my face hitting my cot again.
-----
When I heard the thud of something falling in the entrance cave, I carefully moved back into the entrance cave. The elf was face-down in their cot, unconscious again. It looked like they had tried to stand and just.... fallen over. I sighed and used a claw to nudge the elf back onto his pillow, and then covered him with a blanket. I watched him for a minute, and then returned to the deeper parts of my home. The TFSU was completely overloaded with the number of patients needing treatment. Apparently, the Southener's hospitals just... didn't do anything, so in addition to soldiers, there was a massive influx of civilians to our hospitals too. Of course, this meant that they were absolutely overloaded, and the Civilized Nations strategy of fighting to near-death and then surrendering wasn't helping. So, stable recovering civilians like the elf were just... shipped out. When shelters filled up because the Civilized Nations overpopulation crisis was too bad to do anything, people just had to take them into their homes. Long story short, the government was in way over their head attempting upgrade the standard of care in the Civilized Nations while occupying their territory. My job so close to the border was remote infrastructure maintenance, and my ability to change size while not dissolving made me an expert at it - and that was before my two hundred years of experience. And then I didn't need a vehicle to get on-site, and was fast. The alarm pinging me that one of the space radars was down again gave me an excuse to avoid the elf and do some work. I grabbed a pack of supplies, put on my shapeshift-compatible uniform, and wrote down a note on a piece of paper. On my out past the sleeping elf, I dropped it for him.

Space radar system needs repair, as it's returning a false positive. It's my job to repair all the infrastructure around here, so I need to go fix it. I'll be back soon. If you're hungry, my pantry is the first cave on the right. You can just eat anything that's easily open-able in there. If it has a lock or airtight opening mechanism (anything more than a clip, really) then don't eat it. If your thirsty, there's a stream in the entrance cave near the heaters. When the door mechanism beeps, step back. Sometimes pressure in the cave can get a bit wonky, and I don't want you to get hurt. Other than that, feel free to explore. I've locked all the doors to the rooms I don't want you to enter. For toilet necessities, the second cave on the left has a properly-sized toilet. And running water, but stuff I can explain later means don't drink it. See you soon! - Vixie.

Satisfied, I left opened the door. There was a puff as the air from inside flowed out to the lower-pressure atmosphere. I could spot a snow squall to the north, and the pressure meant that it was probably coming my way. I moved out onto the ledge and closed the door behind me. At high altitudes this far north, the air was already near-zero and it was still five in the afternoon. I took just a second to confirm with the weather report that the snowstorm was in fact going to arrive on my doorledge using a smartwatch I had strapped around my wrist. When I found that the storm was coming, I opened my wings and flew. Being an Ice Dragon had its advantages, but being a Water-Ice Combined Dragon was much better. The frosty air curled around my wings as the freedom of ignoring gravity filled my brain. Ice and Water dragons both had large wings to deal with the cold air (and lower pressure leading to the requirement for more surface area to achieve the same amount of lift) and incompressable water physics (to let the wings act like a one-way fan blade as they move back and forth, increasing efficient). Dragons might be magestic creatures, but we were still bound to the physics of the mortal plane, after all. Being part of both, my wings were even bigger, making me one of the best high-altitude fliers on the planet. The ability to use both gills and lungs at said altitudes helped with oxygen also helped. Air Dragons were better at flying in normal air, but I liked to think of it like stats from a video game. Air Dragons min-maxed their stats for low-altitude, but I could go anywhere - even underwater - can keep my speed relatively high. I took full advantage of this on my way to the space radar, soaring well above the cloud ceiling and to the point where I could make out the curvature of the planet below me. The ocean spread out to my west, while more land was to my east. Snow covered the north as to the south was the telltale splotchy color of industrialism. My smartwatch beeped, as I crossed the normal altitude limit. I hadn't realized I'd gone so high; I had a radar to repair, after all. I dove down towards the surface, ignoring more beeps as I crossed half the way to the speed of sound. The wind howled angrily in my ears, but I flattened those (thank you, streamlined water genetics) and came out of my death dive right over the radar. The repair itself went relativity smoothly, though I couldn't find a broken component and chalked it up to more space anomalies. They weren't infrequent, and usually marked where the gods decided to look over the planet. For my radars, anyway. Further north, ignoring the north pole, almost no gods came out and wanted to deal with us. Our unspoken agreement was held that way. I flew straight back for my return journey. The storm was definitely closer, but fifteen minutes of flying later and I was entering the opening mechanism for my door. As it swung inwards, I heard the high-pitched scream of an elf.
-----
When I awoke, I found myself tucked into some covers. It took all of seven seconds for reality to catch up with me. Right. I got into a heated argument with a dragon. I instinctively touched the part of my face that had been closest to the dragon's flame. I'd read about Auras in books, but never thought I'd get to see one. They were only ever found in the most powerful and competent individuals of a race in an entire plan of existence. I wondered which skill gave the dragon hers - Vixie, I reminded myself. Either way, given that Auras are technically illusions, I wasn't hurt. The flames didn't get close enough to hurt anyway, but that didn't stop me from checking. This time, I was much more careful when I stood up. I sat up first, then started to kick my legs back and forth. That's when I spotted a paper on the other side of my cot. I stood up without thinking, but managed to keep my consciousness this time and moved towards the note. It was handwritten and contained a lot of jargon that I wasn't familiar with. Space. Radar. False positive. Airtight opening mechanism. Heater. Beep. Pressure. Toilet. Running water. I could deduce some of it. A message had come in requesting the services of the local dragon to repair a thing that has an issue, and that she would return shortly. I could wander around as I pleased, besides eating food that wasn't open or contained in a clip bag. From the tone of the message, I could deduce what a 'toilet' was. The heaters would logically be things that produced heat, so all I had to do was look for those. I wasn't able to tell time, but I supposed at this point it didn't matter. I moved over deeper into the cave, and quickly heard the sound of a stream. It led directly into a forest of stalagmites. After clambering over those, the temperature started to increase, which was all I needed to know that I was getting a drink of water. I was only now catching up to the fact that I had been out for three days, and that meant that I was extremely thirsty. I wasn't sure how I wasn't dead of dehydration at this point. I found the stream next to the glowing metal rods, and with it a clear path to my location. Sighing slightly at the wasted effort on climbing through Rock Forest, I snatched an undersized cup off a rack built into a nearby jut in the cave wall and filled it, before entering the bliss of fresh water. Back in the village, we had some of the best and cleanest water in all the land thanks to snow melt, but this took that to a new level. Cold, crisp water melted in the sun only minutes ago. It was... pure. I spent the next couple minutes simply drinking and processing everything over in my mind. The gods might have willed the monster dead, but if even the monster gods had abandoned them and survived... then how come the Pantheon never told us? Religious issues aside, there were more practical issues regarding my own survival. How did I get out. There was a thud at the metal slab, and I moved back towards it, leaving my cup to dry on the rack I pulled it from. The engraving of the cat on the metal slab was- BEEEP! What was that sound? There was a hiss, and the slab started to peel away. A gust of frigid cold air washed over me as a mage Ice-Water hybrid Aura-capable dragon that I had argued with stared me down. I did the instinctive thing and let out the scream of a human three year old, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the final blow. When the end of my life didn't arrive, I reopened my eyes to find the sky-blue cat standing in the hole where the metal slab was supposed to be. Then there was another... sound, and the metal slab started to move back into position. The cat was surprised for a single moment before simply charging the door and jumping through, skidding to a halt right in front of me. Which meant that I got a closer look at her. Ocean-blue strips crossed an ice-blue body fur in a fifty-fifty ratio. Small crystals of ice twinkled, floating here her wings would be. One tail was accompanied by two more made of pure blue-white energy, and the cat even had a halo. Six orbs of blue-white light hovered in lazy circles around her back, and even in a diminutive form the size of a cat the being radiated the power of an aura-capable creature. "Oh, right, sorry," Vixie said, and all the ethirial energy disappeared. Now that I knew what I was looking for, however, I could just barely tell, using my power as a mage, that Vixie was using illusion magic to hide her true energy. "You don't need to hide your reserves," I said. "Though if you're shapeshifting into forms so small that you need to expose yours, then you should just burn yours instead. It's not worth the trouble of people bottling yours." Vixie gave some kind of half-shrug. "They're not reserves, no." She said, emphasizing the word. I looked at Vixie with a sharp look, and for a second I forgot I was talking to a dragon. "Then what are they?" "They're..." The cat blushed, something I wasn't even aware was possible. She let the illusion fall away, and the tails, crystals, orbs and halo returned. "They're my regenerative baseline minimum." I looked her up and down for a second, dumbstruck. She really is a creature of power, huh? "Um.... uh..." I stuttered. "Is... that where you get your aura from?" I asked. Vixie closed her eyes with an expression on her face, and this time green flame started to peel off her. "Part of it, yeah." To control an aura like that... two auras. Just how powerful is she? I was so deep in thought that I didn't realize that the expression on her face was pain. "I... uh... what happened?" I asked, shellshocked. "Why aren't you fighting in the war?" The worldwide-powerful dragon masquerading as a cat sighed. "I... haven't told anyone. It's... personal." "I..." Only now did it hit me that I was talking with a dragon, not another person. Not just a monster, but a... creature with emotions. "You don't have to tell me." I quickly backtracked. "No, no, it's a fair question. It..." The cat let out a chuckle, and it filled the cave with a beautiful sound. "I suppose it's kind of ironic... but it starts with a kobold and a god, back when the Firma kobold tribe decided to travel north to escape the civilized nations, shortly before the amassing of all creatures in these same northern mountains and the Unification War. "Back before the gods forsook us."
Original Prompt: [WP] For as long as all the races have known, Dragons have been seen as violent, destructive creatures. After an attack on your village, you black out and find yourself in the den of a dragon. It's rather annoyed that that is how they're seen, and wants to prove that isn't the case.
u/Lycan_Jedi thank you for the prompt!
Part 2

Hey there, readers! Here's chapter five for your reading pleasure! Please consider leaving a comment or review as those really do just pick me right up!
I've Been Reincarnated as a Bunny Girl?! (Chapter 5)
by
ShadowDragon88
A fine drizzle was coming down on the town of Starlight Rose. A familiar wolf-kin beasta in red robes that appeared to be shimmering despite the cloudy gloom of the day was walking along the main road. In his right hand, he held a long polished oak staff, topped with a red glowing gemstone the size of his fist. In his left hand, held away from his body, was a tan leather satchel, the drawstring tied in a knot. It appeared full, and seemed to shudder and wriggle. Felixin smiled and nodded to passing villagers.
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"Hey there, Felixin," came the rumbling voice of Earl Shatterknuckle. The blonde dwarf, presently wearing just simple brown leather trousers, fell in step beside his taller friend. Felixin looked down at the dwarf, whose smaller frame was bulging with muscles, with blue and gold glowing tattoos tracing intricate spider-web-like symbols across his chest and arms, smiling back.
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"Good day to you, Earl," the wolf said. There was a spitting-chittering sound coming from the bag, making Felixin pause and frown before giving the satchel a good whack with his magical staff. "Quiet, you!" he hissed at it.
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"Caught yourself another evil spirit, eh?" Earl said with a smirk.
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"Oh yes, and this one was quite the nasty piece of work. I'm on my way back to my lab to properly dispose of it. I think it's from some destroyed remnant of Eld technology, one of the ones that gained sentience, or at least some spiritual semblance to it," Felixin said as he gave the bag another whack when it started to make some electronic beeping sounds.
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"Oh?" Earl asked, curious. "I remember more than once we had some nasty run-ins with Eld-tech back when we were adventurers."
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"I remember you and Melthi being the ones to turn the blasted machines on, both times when cautioned not to," Felixin said pointedly, making the dwarf chuckle.
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"What can I say? We're both curious by nature!"
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"Yes, that's one word for it," Felixin said with a smile, remembering his adventuring days and the party of friends he would regularly travel with. "Anyways. For some reason, about six years ago, they suddenly became much more prevalent. Thankfully, their numbers have been dropping back down over the years."
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"What makes you think this one is from Eld tech?"
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"It kept saying 'Does not compute!' over and over again, while also identifying some kind of rabbit threat." Felixin's mood seemed to shift and his ears laid back on his head, while his tail dipped, almost long enough to drag on the ground behind him. "And when it mentioned rabbits, it made me think of my little princess."
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Earl rolled his eyes as he reached up and clapped the town wizard on the back. "Ah, Kiana'll be back to visit before you know it."
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"I know... it's just, one minute she was this little delicate baby girl, and the next minute, she was this amazing young woman, all ready to up and go out."
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"Didn't Kiana kick down a couple of brick walls when she was a baby?" Earl asked, scratching his head. Felixin waved a dismissive paw at that.
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"Pure coincidences. Those walls were clearly unsound and improperly constructed, so much so that when she was having one of her tantrums just a little punch or kick was enough to send them tumbling down. We're lucky she wasn't hurt or scared, just confused and curious more than anything. Anyways, I just get so worried when I think of her, out there on the open road. Just so... vulnerable. Thankfully I made sure to instill in her a proper sense of caution." Earl snorted at that.
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Meanwhile...
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Kiana let out a roar of fury as her trusted tetsubo connected with the raised steel shield of the bandit before her. The metal dented and warped just as the bandit, shield and all, became airborne. They traveled in an arc straight towards a stone tower connected to an old run-down fort the bandits had holed up in. The screaming man smashed into the top of the tower, crumbling it, his screams instantly going silent.
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"Fire!" Kiana heard a deep voice shout. There were several blasts and, thanks to Kiana's speed, she watched as five cannonballs headed in her direction. To the ordinary person, the black metallic spheres were probably nearly impossible to follow. To Kiana, it looked as though they were moving incredibly slow. She simply stepped aside from four of them, letting them explode into the nearby hillside. As the fifth one hurtled her way, she crouched slightly, raising her tetsubo like a baseball bat. She swung and smacked the cannonball, her tetsubo making a loud DING, and sent it flying right back where it had come from. The two bandits manning the cannon were obliterated along with the weapon itself, as well as a good chunk of the fort wall.
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"She's some kind of demon!" one of the bandits cried. The man, really more of a boy, no older than Kiana, leapt down from the fort wall onto a carriage they had recently stolen from some traveling aristocrats. He then leapt onto the ground and sprinted out into the forest, stripping off the black cloak with the red eye in the center.
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"DAMMIT!" the bandit leader cursed, pulling off his tricorn hat and dabbing his bald sweaty head with a handkerchief. While the remaining men were busy barring the windows or reloading and firing the cannons, he was gnashing his teeth. After a moment's hesitation, he pointed to a nearby subordinate. "You! Follow me. We'll unleash the troll on her."
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The other bandit paled, audibly gulping. "Th-the troll? Are you sure th-that's wise?" Just as he finished asking that, another cannonball destroyed another cannon, making the entire structure shudder.
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"We don't have any other options. Hopefully, after it kills her, it'll be injured enough for us to finish it off... or the other way around if she kills it." The other bandit grimaced at the options laid before them, but nodded solemnly. Outside, Kiana smacked another cannonball back at the cannon that fired it, being careful not to send it flying towards the base of the tower. According to one of the kidnapped merchants that had managed to escape and make it all the way to town, the cells where the bandits were holding their ransom victims were all on the ground floor. Kiana stopped when she heard a loud guttural roar, followed by a rapid series of loud BOOMs. Bandits ran by the windows and open holes of the fort, while the front gate slowly opened.
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Out stumbled a massive creature. Its flesh was a dark brown, and had a texture not unlike tree bark. Its long arms and legs were thicker than the old oak trees in the forest near Starlight Rose. Its gnarled hands, with thick thorn-like protrusions sticking from the knuckles, balled into fists, fists that were as big as Kiana was tall. Its barrel-chest heaved, with white criss-crossing scars in its bark-flesh. It didn't have much in the way of a neck, and its head looked just like a tree stump, complete with root-like tendrils wriggling back and forth. It's mouth was partially concealed by the tendrils, until it reared back and opened its gaping maw, revealing rows of broken yellow teeth, to let out a bellow that shook the ground. From the top of its head grew two slightly spiraling branch-like horns.
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"These idiots somehow managed to get a forest troll?" Kiana asked out loud, a smirk appearing on her face. "And this was only a gold-ranked quest? Something tells me I'm in for a sweet bonus."
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The beast stopped as its knot-like eyes, of which there were at least seven, caught sight of the bunny girl. Up above from the second story windows and holes and from on the roof, the remaining bandits, many of them injured, looked down. Most were smirking, some of the more foolish ones shouted out taunts. The bandit leader stood there, looking grim-faced, but taking some satisfaction in knowing that despite their losses today, the annoying source of their problems was about to end, one way or another.
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Kiana stuck the end of her tetsubo into the dirt, large and surprisingly quick thudding steps shaking the ground. The beast was lumbering towards Kiana, who didn't look the least bit afraid. While not intelligent enough to be truly sentient, the troll did have enough sense to know that its prey should be running. And the fact that it was just calmly standing there, staring at it, only angered it further. With a final roar, the forest troll charged forward. It balled up a massive fist, and swung straight for Kiana. Kiana swung her own fist, the two colliding.
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There was a very loud, sickening crunch and pop. The bandits looked down in shock and horror as where the now screaming troll's fist and forearm had been, there was a bloody and jagged stump that ended just above the right elbow. The troll screeched and lunged at Kiana, hoping to impale her on its horns. But the bunny girl simply kicked, knocking the head clean off the rest of its body. The head bounced off a tree and rolled for a bit, settling in the dirt, a look of surprise on the stump-like face. The rest of the body tumbled over three times before coming to a rest near the make-shift stables, where the carriages and horses of the abducted nobles were kept. Kiana looked back up at the fort, making the majority of the bandits shrink back and shudder. A few of them began to wave white tablecloths hastily tied to sticks and tree branches.
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A short time later the bandits, now in shackles, were being marched to the mechanical cart as the local sheriff and his deputies led them. Except for the severely injured ones, who were shackled to stretchers and loaded up into a seperate mechanical carriage. Kiana looked on as bodies were checked for possible survivors, there being very few to find, as the merchants and a few nobles were led by deputies out from the fort. Kiana smiled at them and nodded to their looks of awe, some of them having gotten a good look at the show of force the petite bunny girl had demonstrated. Ignoring the ones who shrank back away from her in fright, Kiana spotted the sheriff, a large older man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper close-cropped hair and a matching mustache. He was wearing the classic green cloak, directing his deputies. He turned to face her as she approached.
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"I think that's all cleared up," Kiana said, her voice chipper, belaying the fact she had a smattering of blood and gore staining her fur.
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"I'd have to agree with you, young lady," Sheriff Tonsol said, his voice even. In truth, he had tried to avoid enlisting the aid of any adventurers until pressure from various merchants and nobility forced his hand. And even then he had expected it to involve a large party and, more than likely, some lives lost from the hostages. He was a little surprised when the girl reached into her satchel to produce a clipboard with a form on it, as well as an ink pen.
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"In that case, would you mind signing this form indicating that I completed the job satisfactorily?" Tonsol looked at the form for a minute, and then his mouth curved upwards. He let out a chuckle and signed his name on the indicated line, writing in the date as well.
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"Satisfactorily is putting it lightly, miss," he said, handing the clipboard and pen back to the bunny girl. "I had no idea that they had a forest troll in their possession. I went ahead and bumped up the reward."
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"Oh wow, thank you, sir!" Kiana said, looking excited.
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Tonsol smiled, something his deputies claimed to be a rare sight to behold. "Well, you earned it. I'm just glad you were able to get them to surrender without harming any hostages. Well, without them harming any more than the ones they did last time someone came out here to free them."
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"I'm glad I could help!" Kiana said, bowing a little. "Now, I'm going to head back into town." She spread her arms wide and indicated to herself. "I'm really in need of a bath at this point."
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"If you don't mind waiting a minute, you can ride back to town with us. It's faster than walking."
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"Oh, thanks for the offer, but I'm good." Kiana waved, before jogging back to where she'd left her tetsubo and pack, Mirabelle coiled around it protectively. She grabbed the items up, quickly looking through the travel pack to make sure she still had everything, and nodded to herself, satisfied. She slipped the pack onto her back, then scooped her pet snake into her arms, and started to jog down the road in the direction of the town of Hengecliffe. Picking up speed, she rapidly became a blur, and in just a few seconds she was coming to a sliding stop in front of the town gates, startling a couple of bored-looking guards.
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She greeted them and let Mirabelle down before they let her inside. They stared at the snake with the big pink ribbon around its neck slithering obediently behind the bunny girl. She stopped off at the local guild hall to drop off the signed paperwork and collect her now even heftier reward. She noticed a few stares in her general direction, and some unhappy grumbling from some fellow adventurers, but otherwise no one said anything.
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Kiana then headed to the town inn where she still had a room for another night. Thankful again that this world had indoor plumbing, with hot water to boot, Kiana wasted no time in stripping off her gore-coated clothes, which she would wash in the laundry room down the hall, and enjoyed a nice steamy shower. She didn't have to worry about possible intruders, as Mirabelle sat coiled on the bed, ever vigilant.
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"Today was a good day," Kiana said, stepping out of the shower and drying herself off, a feat that took several minutes with a towel. This left her gray and white fur all fluffed-out, which led to her brushing it out. Kiana had grown accustomed to the care and maintenance of her fur, taking pride in keeping it clean. She then donned her underwear and a cream-colored sundress from her pack, carefully putting her dirty clothes in the laundry sack in her pack. She smiled and stroked Mirabelle's head, the snake letting out a contented purr-like hiss.
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"I'm going to go out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon in town. You stay here and guard the pack, okay?" she asked, slipping her mithril knuckles into her dress pockets, along with a small money pouch. Mirabelle hissed, thumping her tail on the bed in response, curling up tighter around Kiana's belongings.
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"Good girl," she praised, before heading out, locking the door behind herself for good measure. Kiana smiled as she stepped out onto the paved sidewalk, carriages passing by on the street. Hengecliffe was much larger than Starlight Rose, with paved streets and even streetlights. Centrally located in a region of plains, it served as a trading hub. Kiana walked along, noticing a few men and women looking her over. Some seemed to do so with distaste, more than likely not enjoying the sight of a beasta. But most seemed to be pleasant people observing a new face.
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"Well now, if my eyes are not deceiving me, it seems that an angel from the heavens has decided to grace us mere mortals with her presence." Kiana's ears twitched at the sound of the male voice. She paused and turned, looking down an alley, where a man leaning up against the side of a building stood, looking her over. He was wearing brown leather trousers, a white linen shirt, and a belt with a large buckle which, matching the large buckles on his boots, made him look a bit like a pirate. The goatee and the cutlass sheathed at his side were also not helping.
​
"Hello, beautiful," he said, giving Kiana a wink. Kiana rolled her eyes, and moved to keep walking, only to find a squat bald man standing in her way, grinning sinisterly. Kiana checked behind herself and saw another man, a larger one with a completely shaved head, arms crossed with a club under one arm. "Now, how about we all go somewhere more... private," the pirate-looking moron asked, giving Kiana a smug wink.
​
"Wow, you idiots have no idea just how badly you messed up," Kiana said, walking into the alley, the two guys following right behind her. The men chuckled. Passersby stopped when they heard three loud thuds coming from the alley, all of which made the nearby buildings shudder. They saw a bunny beasta girl walking out, brushing some dust off her sundress. She smiled and waved and continued on her way, leaving behind three broken figures. Two were lying in craters in the pavement of the alley, while the third, this one with a cutlass laying at his booted feet, was standing... his head laying all the way back in a hole in the brick wall right behind him.
​
Later that evening...
​
Kiana was sitting just outside the town walls on a hill, watching the stars come out. After sixteen years, it still mystified her to look up at the night sky, and not see any of the old constellations. She smiled as a shooting star streaked its way across the sky. Suddenly, Kiana felt a surge of energy just course through her. Her eyes faintly started to glow with the blue light, and she felt a strange pulsing in her chest. Looking around, she felt a strange magnetic pull coming from the south.
​
Starting as a jog, Kiana soon found herself sprinting outright across the countryside. She ran, as a blur, following the pull, her eyes gradually glowing brighter and brighter, shining with the crackling blue energy. Then, she came to a stop. She stood at the foot of a mountain, itself part of a larger range. Looking up at the mass of rock and ice, she could see broiling clouds up over it, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the rocky and snowy peaks. With one such flash, Kiana saw something move. Something big. Kiana's glowing eyes went wide.
​
"Oh wooooooooow," she said, her jaw hanging open. There were rumbles as the giant coiled mass shifted. Several avalanches were caused by the serpentine body, buried under tons and tons of snow. At the very peak of the mountain, a gargantuan head rose.
​
"Is that a giant... cobra?" Kiana asked under her breath. Indeed, that was what the creature that seemed to dwarf the Spire appeared to be. In the light of the lightning, she saw that its scales were a deep blue, almost purple. There were stripes running down its back, but they were glowing a bright bioluminescent blue. That same glow radiated from the creature's reptilian eyes, and the inside of its hood. The same glowing blue as Kiana's eyes.
​
"What... are you?" Kiana asked, quietly.
​
I can ask the same of you, little one, a deep female voice hissed in Kiana's head. She winced and looked around. She then looked back up at the creature, her veins flooded with adrenaline. There was another flash of lightning, and in that very instant, the creature's head was bent down low, right in front of her. Kiana almost jumped back, but stopped herself. As the snake-entity looked her over with an eye that was twice as tall as she was, Kiana felt a sense of calm overtake her.
​
"Are you... a storm dragon? A real storm dragon?" Kiana asked, reaching out and touching the creature's cheek with her hand. It flicked out a blood red tongue, its mouth curling up a little at the corners.
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That is something that little ones like to call my kind, she said. Kiana figured right then and there that this was a female.
​
"A monk said that... my spirit is like one of yours," Kiana said, breathlessly.
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Your soulsong feels similar to one of our kind, little one, she said, turning her head and gently nuzzling the top of Kiana's head, making her ears lay flat. The storm dragon's head was almost as large as the entirety of her hometown.
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"My... soulsong?" Kiana asked. The monk she had met hadn't said anything about them.
​
The song of your innermost being. It stands out from the loud and noisy cacophony that happens when most little ones gather together in large groups. Yours is beautiful, and a little... fluttery. The dragon gave her a wink. She reared up and opened her mouth. Electricity danced between the dragon's fangs, before she shot out a sonic boom. The raging storm above abated, the clouds dispersing, leaving only a crystal clear night sky for miles and miles around. She then turned and looked down at Kiana. The bunny girl felt the storm dragon's gaze. She felt a radiating warmth coming from her. It reminded Kiana of her mother.
​
It was so nice to meet you, little one. It was quite the pleasant surprise to awaken to. She let out a proud roar, and her body began to undulate. Sections of the mountain range began to crumble as large sections of mountain were crushed and smashed by the body slamming into them. The body of the dragon rose into the air, beginning to gracefully slither about. Levitating there, partially coiled, the sheer size of the storm dragon just boggled the bunny girl's mind.
​
"Will I see you again?" Kiana asked, feeling a little sad. She had just met this beautiful and amazing being, and already they were leaving.
​
Of course, little one, the mental voice in her mind chuckled warmly. I have listened to your beautiful soulsong, and I have shared my soulsong with you.
​
"I... I don't understand what that means," Kiana said, confused.
​
You will, little one, she said, you are still young, but my soulsong has resonated within you. When you stop and listen, it will become easier and easier to hear it. And thus, the bond has begun to form. In time, you shall understand. With a flick of the creature's tail, there was a flash of lightning that radiated from within the hood, and she was gone. Kiana stood there, her eyes readjusting to the dark.
​
"This world is so awesome," she said, a smile on her face, as she began to job back towards town. She figured that if the town gates were closed and locked, she could just jump over the wall.
​
Meanwhile...
​
The lone figure stood in the dark, staring at where the great serpent had been levitating. They were sitting on a log in a small clearing, where they had set up camp. The individual in question was polishing their armor when a gray blur had shot right past them. And then, where it had been heading, the giant serpent, an actual storm dragon, arose. They sat there in stunned silence. They knew right then and there, that it had been a sign from the gods. As they unsheathed their katana, it began to thrum with magical energy, the blade becoming engulfed in bright purple flames.
​
The light of the purple flames illuminated his green face, glinting off his polished tusks. "Soon, the war shall begin," said the orc, sheathing the blade and cutting off its purple light. The same purple light shone from his eyes.
​
Name: Kiana
​
Species: Beasta (Rabbit-Kin)
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Age: 16
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Skills: Sibling Wrangler, Babysitter, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Master Martial Arts, Brawling, Heavy Weapon Proficiency, Sarcasm Mastery, Eyerolling Mastery, Beast Taming Level 3
​
Class: (Official) Master-Level Dragon Monk: Storm Dragon School, Storm Dragon Hatchling.
​
​
Str: 141
Int: 12
Dex: 140
Cha: 12
Wis: 10
Con: 172
Languages: Common, Draconic
​
Equipment: Adventurer's Pack, Steelwood Tetsubo, Mastercraft Mithril Knuckles (x2), Rope (25 Ft.), Canteen (Full), Road Rations, Spare Clothes, Bedroll, Health Potion (x2), Books (x3)
I really hope that you enjoyed the new chapter! Thank you for reading so far!
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We're thinking about getting the Idanäs king bed frame, but the issue is we've got a king size Purple mattress, which is 200 pounds on it's own. Is this a bad idea lol

All my (28F) life, I've always had anxiety (and depression), especially when it comes to relationships. I was always jealous of females who would talk to my partners during my teenage and young adult years. I acknowledged the toxicity in that, and wanted to better myself, so I did.
In September of 2019, I moved across the country (NC -> WA) to live with my boyfriend (27M) at the time, and we were together for almost three years. During that time, we adopted two cats and took one in from outside. A year and a half into our relationship we decided to get a house. We weren't married, and he was in the military, so he bought the house, and my name wasn't on the mortgage. Two years into our relationship, he made friends with two people online (younger female and older male, if that matters) and they all played video games together a lot. I was super happy for my ex, because he didn't really have a lot of friends.
The anxious thoughts trickled into the back of my head, but I pushed them away, because I told myself I would be better. I wanted to do better for me and for our relationship. I would occasionally ask for reassurance, of course, because I still struggled from time to time. And he would always tell me basically what I wanted to hear; everything was fine and nothing was going on.
One day while my ex and I were playing an online game (that has an in-game party chat audio, and we were also on Discord)(we had separate gaming rooms), I was unaware at first, but he had gotten a phone call from the girl and muted himself on Discord but not on the in-game party chat, and the way he spoke with her was a little more than friendly. It was only after a few times of me "responding" to him and getting no response, that I knew he was talking to someone else. And it took me less than a second to realize that I was 99% sure it was her, after hearing the way he was talking. Apparently something was bothering her and he was consoling her. On the brink of angry tears, I stormed over and demanded an answer as to who it was, and what was going on. He told me it was her, but denied there being any feelings or that anything was going on, that she was just going through a really hard time and needed a friend, blah-blah-blah. And I chose to believe him.
Another time maybe a week or two after that, we had a pretty large discussion one time that i needed reassurance and went as far as to degrade the girl by saying that he wouldn't be with her because of "her size" and that he "could hear her breathing heavily on the mic." That kind of raised some flags, because I know when people go into denial, they'll say things like that. But again, I turned a blind eye, and chose to believe him.
I just wanted to show him that I trusted him for his word. Bad mistake on my part.
Deep down I still always had a gut feeling about them. I tried to push it away, but it never truly went away.
My ex, his two friends, and I all stream(ed) on Twitch. You can make money off streaming (they only pay out if you hit at least a $100 threshold by the end of the month, and you get paid on the 15th of every month I believe), and it automatically saves your previous broadcasts for up to 7 or 14 days (I can't remember). My ex and I were on a streaming hiatus, but his female friend streamed. Occasionally I would pull up a past stream of hers and listen to the conversation between the two of them.
One morning in early May '22, after my ex went to work, I pulled up one of her past streams and was listening, and I hear them talking about him getting out of the military in a year and other normal things like that. She asked him about what he was planning to do with the house once he got out and he said something about keeping it and collecting equity for a little while. She then replies, "but, you live with your ex."
Mind you, we NEVER said ANYTHING about breaking up. We told each other we loved each other on a regular basis, y'know, normal relationship things. So there was no established break up. We were still together, but apparently not according to him when talking to her about us.
I continued to listen to more of their conversations. About how he would send her "sexy messages," and she would obnoxiously say how hot he was for doing certain things on the game. And I think that was feeding his ego, made him feel better about himself.
Everything shattered inside me. I was an emotional wreck.
I texted him that we needed to talk. He tried calling, asking what was going on, things like that, but I refused to tell him anything. I knew if I told him anything, it would've given him time to come up with some lame lies to tell me to weasel his way out of the whole thing.
When he got back home (he came home from work early), we started talking. Not about the incident at first. But he told me he felt like things weren't the best between us, he "cried" (at this point, I'm not sure that it was even real), I cried.
And then we talked about the incident. His reasoning was that it felt like there was just about nothing left between us, that it felt like I didn't love him anymore. I never meant to make him feel like that. He may have been saying that truthfully, or that may have been a poor, made-up excuse for what he did. But throughout our relationship I constantly told him I loved him, and occasionally would try to do nice things for him, like buy him a small gift at the store if it made me think of him.
He also confessed to it being two other women as well, including an ex that I'd also had suspicions about.
There was also talk about whether she knew we were actually together or not. He once told me that the girl saw my profile and "thought [I was] pretty." He then (after we had talked about the incident) said that I guess she had noticed I had taken my relationship info off my bio on Twitch. Which puzzled me; if she had noticed that it was on there prior, did that mean that she knew we were actually together? I couldn't tell if it was him lying or her being a homewrecker, or both.
I will say that towards the end of our relationship, we were both burnt out. Tired of existing. We didn't keep up with cleaning the house and really only ate take-out/delivery, so that definitely didn't help. But I never wanted to give up on us. I still wanted to be with him. I knew we were just going through a rough patch, or so I thought.
For the following few weeks after the incident, I was consistently nauseous, I vomited a few times, and food seemed unappealing, which is very strange for me; I'm a foodie. I didn't feel like doing anything except laying in bed - the only bed in the house - the one we shared.
We went through a limbo stage, not knowing if we should stay together or split up. After speaking with his mother about it (for advice) she recommended that we split up but work on each other, and if we decided to get back together, then it would happen.
Part of my depression/anxiety stemmed from worrying if I was going to be able to bring the cats back to NC with me. I wasn't financially able to live on my own, and my parents have always welcomed me with open arms if I needed to come back, no questions asked. In the past, maybe a few years before moving to WA, they wouldn't let me have/keep a cat. So I was so worried that they wouldn't let me keep my boys. I had grown so close to them, I couldn't stand to part with them. They're like my children, as I don't have any.
My ex was willing to let me stay for a long as I needed, which I appreciated greatly. I wasn't ready to tell my parents about the incident, because I knew my mother would book the next flight out and scoop me up. And mentally I couldn't handle the thought of being told I couldn't bring my boys back with me. So I withheld it from them for about a month.
Once I told them, they had no issues with me bringing the boys home with me. They knew the bond I'd created with them. That was a huge weight off my chest and shoulders.
He helped me pack, and back home I went. I had to leave a few things behind (including a couple of packed boxes), as I was only taking my '16 Ford Fusion across the country. He agreed to sending me the boxes later on.
Fast forward to the end of last August. It would've almost been our three year anniversary. One of my boys, the first one my ex and I adopted, had to go to an emergency vet and at the end, we (both) decided euthanasia was the best course of action. I had him cremated the next day, and got his ashes back in a beautiful metal urn. I paid for the vet visit put of pocket, as well as the cremation. He helped cover a small portion of the cremation.
He had pet insurance on the boys, so I asked if the vet visit could be reimbursed by the insurance company. I sent him the paperwork that they needed, and played the waiting game on if it would be approved or not.
January of this year, I sent him money for the shipping of the second box.
Early February I reached out again, and he said the insurance company approved it for the entire amount and that he was waiting on them to send the check.
Towards the end of February, I reached out yet again to ask about the status, he said he would send me the money back as he could. He said he needed it to fix the transmission on a truck he'd been using. I'm a little peeved at this point. That was MY MONEY. He could've at least given me a heads up, or even asked. Is it that hard to be a decent, considerate human being?
After trying to talk to him multiple times, mid-March rolls around and I ask him to send at least SOME of the money. He said that he would send some to me when he got paid from Twitch. So I waited some more.
But that was the last time I'd get a message from him.
I went as far as to pop into a live stream of his and ask why he hasn't responded to me, and got blatantly ignored.
I have no idea what happened, why he all of a sudden stopped responding to me. To my knowledge, I did nothing wrong. He's the one who cheated on me. And then decides to steal money I sent him to ship my belongings, that we agreed on him sending, and the money that was spent at the vet office visit that I paid for.
I'm so frustrated, so infuriated. I would never have done such a thing to him, even after everything he had done to me prior. I do not deserve this.
And I can't seem to let any of it go.
I'm now in a relationship with someone else, and we currently live together.
I'm still so angry at my ex, and the infidelity in my past relationship has left me anxious in this relationship. I feel as though I'm not adequate enough. My self-esteem is shot. I'm on edge just about every day.
I don't want to be like that. It's not fair to me and it certainly isn't fair to my current partner.
And that also angers me. Not only has my ex screwed me over financially, but mentally/emotionally as well.
I wish that he would just pay me back and send me the rest of my belongings, and that I could somehow miraculously get over the infidelity. But sadly, that's not how reality is.
Can anyone offer any assistance with... how to fix my brain I guess?
I know this was an e x t r e m e l y long post, so if you stuck around to read it all, I appreciate you.

I know it seems odd to say that, because in theory more powerful hardware only has benefits, I don't actually think that's the case in application. It is has long been true that limitations can lead to beautiful ideas and spark creativity that might not otherwise have been found without them, but that's not entirely what I'm talking about. The Switch is actually plenty powerful and compared to the past, this makes it less of an issue than say the DS or the Gameboy before it, but it still does prompt some of that beautiful creativity. In a holistic lens, the amount of power this handheld can input in terms of game potential is insane and it only ever looks bad in comparison to newer technology.
The bigger problem as I see it is that the Switch's market is fantastic for people like me who are not attached at the hip to the AAA hyped games with hundreds or even thousands of developers working on them. People call the games in this market niche, but I don't think it's necessarily that. Mario Party, Ring Fit Adventure, Cuphead, Dead Cells, Stardew Valley, Nier Automata, Persona 5, these types of games have sold well enough that they're way past niche. I feel like there's bad tendency to say things are either mainstream or niche and there's no middle ground. I like to play a variety of games that range from super low budget indies to mid-sized games with modest budgets, like Atelier Ryza, Daemon x Machina, Yokai Watch or AI: The Somnium Files.
I really missed the days of the PS2 and Gamecube where there were plenty of packaged titles that weren't huge mass market blockbusters, but provided a great variety of experiences that didn't conform to the standards of those mass market super hits. The Nightmare of Druaga was one of my favorite PlayStation 2 RPGs, a brutal roguelike that wasn't nearly as beautiful or epic as Dragon Quest VIII, but just as memorable. I remember playing great games like I-Ninja and Metal Arms alongside the Metroid Primes and Ratchet and Clanks.
The Switch has brought back success for publishers who are pursuing this mid-sized market, whereas in Japan at least, that was completely stamped out by Sony's insistence on pushing high fidelity games the PS4 and PS5. The difference is stark. You see third party success with smaller titles all the time now on the Switch that hasn't been seen since the earlier 2000s. My favorite baseball series, Powerful Pro is back because it's so much easier to satisfy and compete with the market on the Switch and sales rose exponentially for Konami culminating in one of the best games ever released for the long-running 30+ year series where before they didn't even bother with releases anymore because it was seen as not worth it. (In the ultimate irony, the more realistic Konami baseball series now prioritizes releases on the Switch despite its appeal of realistic graphics being closer to the PlayStation's strengths.) It may not be important to you, but it's important to me and you probably have something you love on the Switch that's prospered that I don't even know about.
The second reason the Switch's lack of power doesn't bother me is the huge resurgence in retro game popularity. It may just be a sign of the times that the Switch was able to capitalize on, but seeing as how many developers target the Switch with their releases and how Nintendo's legacy brings with it familiarity with retro back catalogs and how Switch Online subscriptions introduce people to games they might not have tried otherwise, I think it's obvious the Switch has this market really well cornered. I can't believe how many things I never thought would be revived that somehow have gotten revived. Live a Live was obviously a huge surprise and success story that was impacted by Octopath Traveler and the HD-2D engine's success.
But there are tiny, super niche examples that have me overjoyed. G-Mode releases ports of feature phone games from before smartphones became popular and it's amazing. It's the only way to play the Legendary Heracles III on a modern platform with all the horrible bullshit from the Super Famicom version cut out. If you like Earthbound, Sepas Channel is incredible. The Kibukawa Ryosuke Detective File Series are extremely charming, well-written mystery games that scratch on itch for anyone who likes detective games and particularly the fun banter of the Phoenix Wright series investigation sequences. There's an insanely well done puzzle game about poking the air out of bubble wrap!
There's this old Japanese PC game called Demon Castle that got ported to the Switch with a little guide to help people because the original game has old retro puzzle bullshit like "stand here for 60 seconds to get the sword you need to win the game," and when you modernize enough to alleviate those annoyances, the base game is so much fun. It was so successful that they ported the sequel and then a brand new game, 30 years later, based on how well the ports did, that massively expanded the ideas. The whole saga has been one of my treats throughout the Switch's life span.
For many reasons, these just don't get the attention on Sony's platform or on Steam that they do on the Switch. It's possible Nintendo will find a way to cultivate a good balance in the market, but I'm going to be sad if future Nintendo platforms emphasize power to the extent their competitors do and leave behind these kinds of games in the dust. It happened after Sony didn't have to hustle anymore from trying to make the PS3 more successful than its awful launch and the PSP compete with the DS. They completely gave up on the Wild Arms, Loco Rocos, Patapons, Yuusha no Kuse ni Namaika das, Intelligent Qubes, Arc the Lads, Jumping Flashes, Sly Coopers and so on. Nintendo still has those quirkier titles coming out regularly and fosters them, whereas I get the sense that Sony would feel embarrassed marketing their own Japanese-made RPG again, which is disappointing. Fire Emblem Engage is my most played game this year so far with over 150 hours in it and I get the sense Sony doesn't think games like that are premium enough for the PS5 to fund and market them anymore. Keep in mind, I'm not trying to say the PS5 is awful or anything, just that I can see why people find more value in gaming on the Switch despite the power difference. It's obvious that Nintendo helps market indie titles because they support their platform a lot. Would Nintendo do that anymore without the power gap, just like Sony stopped doing? They're certainly not doing it out of a sense of charity.
It's also nice because some of the more modern games that never come to the Switch are also some of the biggest failures and I'm glad I never got a chance to play Mass Effect Andromeda, the new Saint's Row or Fallout 76 before they blew up into buyer beware butt cakes. The Switch's lack of power has ironically also been a shield from modern bullshit to a certain extent. And while of course it would be nice to play the Resident Evil remakes in a non-cloud version or the new Star Ocean, the nice thing about that is if they eventually come to the Switch's successor they probably will include all the stuff you had to pay or wait for before as additional downloadables in the base game, much like The Ezio Collection (the first time I played Assassin's Creed) included everything you'd want in the Switch version. So platforms like the Switch are great for patient gamers too. (Though no amount of porting will ever convince me to play Skyrim.)
The last aspect are mobile ports. I know this isn't very popular overseas, but since my second most played platform are smartphone games and I and other Japanese players play a lot of them, this is really helpful. Porting mobile games to the Switch often completely removes a lot of worse parts of the monetization and leaves behind a better game. I tend to play mobile game while I listen to podcasts, audio books or YouTube videos and Gems of War, Guardian Tales and Dragon Quest Rivals ACE are probably my three most played Switch games. I can't even spend money on Gems of War if I wanted to because my region isn't supported, so score! Kairosoft's cute little pixel art simulation games are completely removed of all of their mobile monetization leaving only an addictive simulation game behind. Five-BN is a tiny Ukrainian studio who makes adventure games that look like they were made for PCs in the late 90s, but that's right up my groove and you get a lot of bang for your buck with each title. It scratches the exact itch I've wanted scratched by other modern adventure games that are more concerned with aping old LucasArts than old Sierra, the latter of which I personally liked much better. I can't accurately convey how impressed I was that they made better and more fun puzzles and more enchanting worlds than many of their competitors on their tiny mobile game budget. Imagine how surprised that their translations into Japanese are also better than larger publishers. That's just sad. (It's also quite refreshing to play games that seem to be designed for middle-aged women. That's not a market you see catered to very often and makes for a nice change of pace.)
Unreal Life is one of the greatest experiences I've ever had in my years of gaming and it was a mobile port. Also Various Daylife is an awesome, awesome game and it's unfortunate that it gets dismissed for being a departure from traditional RPG gameplay that people are looking for, because like a SaGa game, it's full of great ideas to come together to make a unique game. There's no way the platform would have gotten this many mobile ports if it weren't a Japanese handheld hybrid with an easy to use touchscreen and so the very fact Nintendo sacrificed power to make it portable brought games to me I would not have noticed or played that much otherwise.
I know that people dislike the performance issues they see on the Switch, but it often doesn't bother me, as I don't really pay attention to frame rate issues unless they're so dire that it's obviously hurting the game's playability. I never even noticed any drops in Tears of the Kingdom and to me plenty of Switch games are beautiful and I don't really care if they had higher resolution or better textures. It's just not a priority for me or something I look for in games. I'm aware enough to know that I'm an outlier in that respect on Reddit, but I don't think I am in the wider gaming community offline. Bright Memory, Sifu and King's Bounty 2 played just fine in the Switch versions for me.
And of course it goes without saying that I dearly hope the Switch is not the last hurrah for this type of platform, because I can't remember another platform that had this good of a balance of success for all types of publishers and developers. And I know it can't last forever. It's sad the way Octopath Traveler II didn't get the attention the first one did, despite being improved every way, but even on the Switch not everything can be successful. I wonder when the point comes where the saturation is so high on the platform that it can't go on any longer. I don't imagine that even with this type of momentum that the Switch is just going to keel over in a couple of months once the successor is released, so long live the Switch!

I'm building a trans jack adapter, specifically to use an OLD(all steel, found on side of road for free better than 10yrs ago) Pittsburg jack, and to lift 42RE transmissions.
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My current plan(parts already cut out), is a U shaped channel, 12.5"x19" of unequal leg angle iron(old bed frame of some sort). 19" long so as to give a sufficient length to slide the trans along to seat the torque converter once raised high enough. The only direction of travel this design doesn't give me is side to side adjustment()unsure how I could do so, especcially with the jackl having a sub 12" wide footprint.) Under that being a 2.5"x1/2"x12" piece of flatstock, with a hole drilled into it for a ground down to fit Front wheel spindle from a '87 Ford Ranger, as it was the only stock I could find in the massive scrap pile that was close to the right size.
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Tomorrow nights project will be to get it welded together.
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My question being if I want to include a pivot point, which would simply be adding a second piece of the 1/2" flatstock, and a piece of tube cut into segments as a barrel hinge(unsure if I have such tubing on hand). My debate being if it's worth the extra height or not, as I've got to hang the transmission under the Jeep with ratchet straps over a stack of blocking to get it high enough to get the jack under the transmission, as I can't get the Jeep high enough to even slide the trans under the frame rails with anything under it. I just installed this transmission last week, then found it had issues, and it took 2 attempts this last time to get it back in. Torque converter having come unseated on the first attempt, which may have caused damages resulting in removing it this time(suspect pump inner gear got cracked.) My original thought being to use a u-joint cut off an old driveshaft for both tilt and rotation, but that seems like way too much flex to be remotely stable. Thinking I'll either control the pivot manually, or put some type of turnbuckle under to adjust but hold the angle.
As far as the reasoning for not just buying a transmission jack, all that I've seen are designed with small wheels designed for asphalt/concrete, while I'm working over a thin layer of dirt over very degraded concrete.

I am looking for perfectly round frame with a 55mm+ lens size, in black and metal preferably
I've looked on sites like zenni and eyebuydirect but none of the frames in stock are what I'm looking for. Also tried reverse image searching but couldn't find anything.

Amid a galaxy of brutal chaos there are stories to be told, tales of valor and justice, of fear and despair. But amid these stories are the guttering flames of adventures untold, the potential for a universe of entertainment and savage joyous fun. The Oblivion Cycle embodies just this kind of crafted chaos, creating the potential for creative exploits and raucous tales. If you are new to the TOC setting feel free to join the community at TheOblivionCycle to check out some of the background lore or to discuss themes with other readers. I thank you all for your support and continued willingness to read, as always, Please Enjoy!
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A dark planet turned slowly in the void bathed in the light of an old yellow star far past its prime. The planet was old, unlike the countless beings that scurried across its blasted surface. From the vantage point of space far above, the gigantic craters that covered its surface were painfully apparent. Some terrible bombardment had nearly torn the planet in two sometime in its ancient history.
These were the thoughts foremost on the mind of the vast entity that observed the world from the depths of a large misshapen ship of truly gargantuan proportions. The ship orbited the planet far enough away to be unseen, a truly difficult task due to its almost moon-like size.
Deep in the ship’s core, a consciousness woke fully. This being had slumbered for millennia as they waited for the ship’s more automated systems to bring them to something interesting. As they awoke this entity checked the ships logs, two thousand years of reports were absorbed and compiled in mere millincrements such was the being’s incredible processing power.
They stretched mentally, running their consciousness throughout every lesser ten of the ship's millions of greater tens of circuits and wires. It had been centuries since they had last woken for more than a few increments, it was a good feeling.
The ship’s computer communicated with them. “Master Neel, It is good to have you with us.” the computer said nonverbally. The communication happening instead as a base impression across his many connections to the system all at once.
Neel observed the planet remotely using some of the vast worldship's many external sensors. After a few moments of observation Neel inquired the computer. “Have we traveled to this planet before?”
The computer replied quickly “I do not believe so, it bears passing resemblance to a planet we visited in the far past. But it can't be the same planet.” the computer concluded.
Neel frowned and then decided to exit his stasis chamber. The heavily shielded inner sanctum of the ship was a mess of electrical conduits and databanks that held his vast intellect when the ship was underway. Using faster than light means of propulsion could damage many of the curiosities in his vast collection and so for many tens of millions of greater increments he had traveled the cosmos slower than the speed of light.
While slow it was a deliberate action to protect him from the watchful eyes of the obliterators. The destroyers commonly kept watch over the cosmos and were known to eliminate those they could not contain or control. Neel had no wish to be destroyed and so took their time getting around for the sake of stealth. Even the destroyers would be unlikely to detect a single ship not breaking the natural laws in a vast and ever expanding universe.
Disengaging their mental locks, Neel disconnected from the artificial sanctuary and into their physical vessel. Their vessel was an artificial body of sorts, fashioned in a form that Neel found pleasing.
Their vessel was very tall with six manipulating tentacle-like metal arms and a multitude of pointed insect-like legs. Their face was a mess of tubes and wires with no discernible features other than the five bright green glowing eyes that stared out at the world around them intensely.
Neel’s consciousness settled down into the large body like it was a comfortable bed, an electronic sigh passing through them as they disconnected from the ship.
Neel started their vessel’s internal vacuum generators. Devices of their own design that drew electrical power directly from the quantum fluctuations of the universe. Quite a simple thing really, they must seem remarkable to those not nearly as versed as them in the nature of the universe. But Neel was well versed indeed, they knew the purpose of it all, and the dark knowledge often made them wish they had never discovered it.
Turning their attention back to their muted surroundings Neel activated the bridge’s lights with a thought. The ship was a part of them, though simultaneously separate. Together they made a complete entity, though Neel admitted that it was sometimes less distracting to be on their own instead of bonded to the Preserver. That was the name he had chosen for his worldship upon its completion. He had no memories of the event, or of how it had been built. Neither did the Preserver, instead Neel’s earliest coherent memory was that of light. Blinding light.
A star exploding and the ship jumping into emergency compression drive to escape the blast. They had arrived many light years away damaged and broken from the violent energies that had lashed the ship. But they had survived.
Neel scuttled across the deck and to one of the automated steering consoles. They double checked the ship’s course for accuracy and were satisfied to see no inherent issues.
Next they walked though the ship for a time to get to the records hall. They could have zipped there almost instantly with a thought, but they had always enjoyed the action of taking their time. They had a nearly infinite amount of it after all.
The Preserver chimed at them as they walked. “If you are going to the records hall to check the data I can give you access here and save you the trouble Master Neel.” The disembodied voice said in a modulated tone and frequency.
Neel waved a series of arms towards one of the many wall mounted sensors that the ship used to see and replied “Why? What would be the purpose of walking if not to enjoy the walk. I know you could have forwarded the data to me directly on the bridge, but there is a simplistic pleasure to taking one’s time. How many times have I told you that old friend.”
The ship was silent for a few increments as Neel scuttled down dimly lit metal passageways and through dusty hatches. They shook their head in a strange yet familiar motion as they took in the state of the ship. It was dirty, grimy almost.
Neel paused by a strange bundle of filaments and tested them with a single flexible manipulator digit. Plucking them curiously Neel found they seemed to be organic. In fact as they touched them they noticed a small and curious creature skuttle out of the dark in the direction of the disturbance. Delighted at this new and fascinating discovery they coaxed the small creature out into the light.
They observed it closely, zooming in on its features while scanning it in multiple electromagnetic spectrums. Neel found that the creature seemed to fluoresce in the ultraviolet spectrum, its small body covered in swirling organic patterns. It must be able to see into the ultraviolet spectrum Neel mused, otherwise what possible purpose could such patterning serve?
Reaching into a recess in their body they produced a specimen stasis capsule. Carefully scooping up the creature, they activated the micro stasis field generator and the small curiosity seemed to freeze in place. Replacing the container they then turned and continued along the corridor making a mental note to return and analyze the filaments more closely at a future time.
It took a little longer than Neel remembered to reach the great library, which made sense as the Preserver was constantly in flux. They entered the room and slowed to a halt. It always hit them when they entered into the massive space for the first time after a lengthy hibernation. The room was lit with bright yellowish lights high in the cavernous ceiling. The walls were covered in shelves and databanks, not a single square length was bare of some form of data storage medium.
Neel walked in amongst the towering shelves and ran their fingers along the uncountable thousands of books, manuscripts, scrolls and data crystals stored within small stasis cabinets. Hidden inside this sanctum was Neel’s life’s work, the compiled data of tens of thousands of worlds, millions of species and a billion years of searching the universe for something more.
Sometimes when the ship was traveling the void between stars Neel would come and spend years here, just absorbing the ancient knowledge. But today they were looking for something specific. Moving along to one of the many wall mounted dataports, they inserted a spike like digit from the end of a flexible tendril. The full enormity of the vast library exploded into their conscious mind, only their prodigious intelligence keeping them from being overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of data.
Searching for a while they found the folder they were looking for and accessed its location. Neel was in luck, it was remote accessible meaning they wouldn't have to traverse kilometers of this labyrinth to find the data. While that was usually an enjoyable experience, Neel found that their curiosity was overwhelming their patience.
The data filled their mind and Neel saw a planet spinning tranquilly in their mind's eye. The planet that bore a striking similarity to the one they now orbited, in fact, comparing the star logs and accounting for drift, the constellations were the same too. That proved it, they were in fact in the orbit of Ixninth, the evolutionary homeworld of the peaceful humbub.
Neel cocked their head, that was odd. The last time they had been in contact with the humbub their planet was nearing a full scale type one civilization. Full planetary control was theirs and they had taken the first tentative steps out into their solar system with a few far flung colonies and outposts in the orbit of the outer planets.
Now there was nothing, no evidence of the star realm they had once ruled. Something must have happened while Neel had been traveling through the cosmos. Something no doubt related to the strange crater-like formations on the planet’s surface.
Neel scanned the other planets in the system and found that most bore evidence of similar impacts, a few of the smaller moons seemed to have been obliterated entirely. Just the drifting charred remains in orbit of their scarred planets.
They addressed the computer once more verbally. “Preserver, we have indeed visited this system before. It is the humbub’s home system.”
The ship spoke through their implant, the disembodied voice cool and calm while it discussed topics of annihilation. “It would seem some sort of natural cataclysm must have befallen them then. There is evidence of incredible kinetic bombardment. Perhaps a rogue black hole disrupted the outer debris fields?’ the computer speculated blandly.
Neel looked back to the images of the systems battered planets. “I believe something terrible has happened here, are you sure there is no evidence of foul play? No signs of void conflict?”
They began to walk out of the library and towards the main atrium. The Preserver asked “Are you telling me to scan for debris or asking if I had already done so?”
Neel paused and apologised “Yes, I am sorry old friend. You have of course anticipated my question and scanned the area for wreckage. I can postulate based on your silence that you did not find any evidence to support the claim?”
Neel started walking again as the ship confirmed their observation. “I will of course continue to scan the area in case of potential hostile threats, but I do not expect to find anything of note. It looks like the act of a hostile universe, not the acts of barbaric lifeforms.”
Neel nodded again, this time entirely for their own benefit. That is about what they had been expecting anyways, if the growing theory in their mind was correct then they would likely find no evidence of foul play at all. At least, not in the conventional sense.
Perking up a little their green eyes shone bright as a new idea struck them. “Preserver, scan the main planet. Look for any signs of technology or ruins of technology. I will get to the bottom of this situation one way or another.”
The computer replied “Already started when it became clear to me you were set on this investigative action. I can report with ninety five percent certainty that there are no technological ruins on the planet. There is a large and well preserved ruin in the upper hemisphere. Would you like a scope on it?”
Neel waved at the air and replied “Yes, yes of course. Let me see what you have found.”
In their mind they saw the feed from one of the massive ship’s many outward facing telescopes. On the current one they saw it swivel towards the planet. Enhancing the image it zoomed in until Neel could almost count each blade of grass on the ground. In front of their very eyes was a large collection of half buried structures. While they did not look technological in origin, any clue to a history undiscovered was a good clue.
“Good work my friend, I will have to make sure we pull a flyby on a blue hypergiant giant so you can recharge your entanglement drives. You earned it.” They spoke to the Preserver in fondness.
The ship answered in a much more subdued manner “That would be appreciated Neel. My compression generators have been a bit chilly of late. I assume you will want to venture to the surface personally? May I suggest an assortment of weapons?”
Neel waved a hand as they entered the vast and colorful main atrium. It was only a few kilometers from the bridge, but it was a sight well worth the walk. That coupled with the fact that it connected directly to the small hangar bay where the many parasite ships were stored.
Neel walked across the room to the hangar and entered one of the small single occupant shuttles. The Preserver spoke once more in their mind. “If you are intent on going down to the surface would you at least let me launch an orbital observation platform to assist you?”
Neel paused at the controls and then said “Yes, might as well. You never know what’s going to happen in the future, that's what makes living in the present so exciting.”
***********
Jrax woke with a satisfied stretch, today was the day. He had been busy excavating the ruins of the forbidden zone in secret for almost a full year now. Only Zieve knew he was here, and the young man was unlikely to turn him in as he was just as interested in the mysteries of the ancients as he was.
Jrax stood to his feet and twisted at the waist in a futile attempt to crack his lower back. Unsuccessful he looked around, he couldn't see Zieve anywhere, usually the young man was out here before he had even had a chance for his morning zalv. The comforting warmth of a fresh cup of the dark orange liquid was a better wake up than anything else he had yet to discover. He had shown the benefits of drinking fresh zalv to a few of his colleges but it had yet to fully take off. Something about the dried and powdered fruit gave him a zest for life and alertness that was addictive in its effectiveness, and a little addictive in general.
But that was not the important reason he was here. He put a small pot of the mixture on the boil as he pulled his notebook out of his waist pouch. The small leather bound manuscript contained everything he knew of the ancients and their strange ways of life.
According to the few tablets and inscriptions he had so far recovered, the ancients lived in the void and traveled this strange realm of nonexistence in vast ships of solid metal. Why they would have needed to be made of metal made no sense to him. Surely wood would have been much lighter and cheaper? Maybe it was a style thing, from what he could gather the ancients made almost everything out of metal. Such was their vast power and wealth they were able to extract metal from the void itself.
This had always sat ill with him, everyone knew of the void, the space outside of reality. But surely they couldn't do such things as the void was empty, wasn't it? Perhaps the great teachings warning of the demons that lurked in the void were false after all. It was said that the void used to be full of life, an infinite world to build upon. One day the demons had come from beyond the realms of the humbub and devoured all that existed without till at last they rained fire and death upon Ixninth. The celestial realms of the humbub had been reduced to ashes and the survivors fled their metal cities in terror as they were consumed by the angry earth.
He shook his head. The mythos of their people was a fractured thing, handed down largely through word of mouth by millennia of terrified priests who had no real understanding of what they should be so afraid of.
He knew, it had been a hard truth to swallow but in his studies of the forbidden ruins he had made discoveries. Discoveries like the identity of their ancient destroyers.
They were not demons at all, they just looked like them, their bodies twisted and monstrous, their hunger for destruction nearly insatiable. They killed for fun and destroyed the remains, the fact that they hadn't killed all of the ancients was a miracle likely attributed to the paranoia of certain individuals. Places like these ruins had been ancient refuges to them, structures buried far into the guts of the mother earth called bunkers. An affront on nature, but necessary for the survival of their race.
It had taken thousands of years from what he had been able to gather before the planet was once more survivable on the surface. They left their ancient bunkers and found that all that once had been was no more. They had begun again.
Jrax was happy to be alive, especially knowing some of the struggle that his ancestors must have gone through just to survive. He put thoughts of such things out of mind and busied himself combing his fur. It wouldn't do to get mangey knots from a lack of self attention, he was a respectable scholar afterall.
His snout crinkled in a small snarl as he thought of Primo Haxix, the premiere leader of the Church of Brox in his home city of Broxix. The man was a devout follower of Brox’s teachings, and his most severe hurtle to spreading the truth of things. The closeminded man refused to see reason.
Done with his morning grooming he pulled on his open fronted work shirt, the rough fabric a little itchy against his fur but necessary to protect him from biting insects and the sun. It was hot near the ruins, the lack of vegetation one of the reasons the Primo called the land cursed. From what he had found it was no more cursed than any other piece of land, it had something to do with things called water concentrators he had discovered. He didn't understand the concept fully, but it seemed that the area was perpetually dry like the Neeix Desert to the south. A strange concept but it certainly explained why nothing would grow there.
Putting on his sandals and grabbing his excavation kit he slung the bag over his shoulder and started out of camp. He dodged around and through a thick copse of trees, his camp hidden from view in order to protect it from fanatics and the church’s spies. The area around the ruins was constantly under surveillance, he had been spotted a few times and chased but luckily his identity had never been uncovered.
He checked that the coast was clear and then made a quick transition to the bushes a few dozen feet away. Sighing as he didnt hear the telltale sounds of pursuit he continued on. The pack was heavy but he was undeterred.
Normally traveling alone into the wilderness would be tantamount to suicide, the many ferocious predators of their homeworld converging on a lone individual, but he was unafraid. The ruins protected him, some sort of aura seemed to surround the area that deterred the predators from approaching. He had read of it on the inscriptions, it was called a protection grid in the ancient texts that adorned the walls of the ruin, but he had yet to truly parse what it meant.
Whatever it was he was grateful for it as it allowed him to work in peace without constantly having to watch his back against attack from the abominations the demons had left behind.
He walked along the narrow and hidden path he had forged through the dense undergrowth towards the ruins. He shook his furred head, Zeive was probably already there. The young man was always excited to help him make some new discovery or ancient find. Yes, there was nothing to worry about.
Almost as soon as he told himself that he had nothing to worry about he tripped and landed hard on the soft sandy soil. Crawling to his feet he heard the unmistakable sounds of clanking armour plates and was soon surrounded by church soldiers. Resplendent in their brown leather greatcoats and shining steel breastplates.
“Oh..” Was all he said, a plethora of steel spear points at his throat.
Another sound met his ears and he looked behind him. From the path he watched a magnificently maned man stroll towards him, crimson cloak over his brushed leather overcoat covered in fine gold buckles. It was Primo Haxix, his biggest detractor and the most powerful person in all of Broxix.
Primo Haxix strode to him and laughed, a thoroughly nasty sound, devoid of mirth or joy. “Wow, I knew it had to have been an ignorant son of a demon to have crossed into the forbidden zone. But you? You have got to be the dumbest intellectual I have ever met. Clap him in irons, bring him to the fortress of Brox.” The ostentatious humbub then strode away regally as if they cared no more for his welfare, and they likely didn't. Jrax heard the unmistakable sound of a frourn drawn carriage, likely to carry the Primo’s lazy ass back to the capital.
One of the soldiers produced a set of iron clamps which they applied to his wrists, the metal pinching his arm hair painfully and he chirped in discomfort.
“Follow me or I will make you follow.” The man said gruffly.
Jrax did as he was told. No reason to get a beating on top of his arrest.
The soldiers led him through the brush and out to the main roadway. The road was simple hard packed earth, but it served its purpose. Leading right to the edge of the forbidden zone.
He snorted as they led him back along the road towards Broxix. It was a large city, almost fifty thousand inhabitants lived and died within an afternoon’s hike of the ruins and yet they knew nothing of their own history. The Church taught that the demons had destroyed their ancestors and all they had built before Brox took them into the belly of Ixninth for their protection. But that wasn't entirely true. It wasn't the whole truth in any event, and in Jrax’s opinion that was tantamount to lying.
They marched for an hour before the leader of the troop called a halt near a small roadside inn that catered to pilgrims. He looked at Jrax and said gruffly “We are stooping for refreshment, would you like some water?”
Jrax nodded suspiciously and the man gestured to a few of the others to go into the building.
Jrax watched as the trio of so-called holy soldiers kicked the door open and rushed in, swords drawn. Screaming and the sound of crashing furniture could be heard and Jrax chirped angrily but was kept from remarking by a threatening glare from the troop leader.
After a few more minutes of this the sounds ceased and the three soldiers exited carrying food and wine as well as a small bladder of water.
The wine and dried meat morsels were shared about as the troop leader approached with the water and stopped. Staring at Jrax, the man proceeded to unstop the bladder and pour its contents into the dirt as his feet.
When the skin had been completely emptied the troop leader laughed curly and gestured at the small mud puddle. There you go blasphemer, drink up.
A chorus of nasty chuckles sounded from all about as Jrax just stood his ground.
The leader stopped laughing, his face turning from savage mirth to rage as he drew his sword and pointed it at Jrax’s throat.
“I said drink! Do it now or so help me Brox I’ll…” the large armoured man started to say but Jrax cut him off smugly.
“Or you will what? You can’t kill me or you would have already. No, Primo Haxix wants my punishment to be public.” Jrax spat. “He wouldn't let a little pissant like you take his triumph away from him, so no. I will not drink, nor will I eat unless it is something tasty and nutritious. I would rather starve than allow such ignorant fools to debase me.” he said with a smug chortle.
The now enraged troop leader drew his sword in a threatening manner and Jrax felt his knees shake slightly in fear. But he stood tall and firm, not allowing his terror to show on his face. He would show these zealous assholes what it meant to truly serve a higher purpose, even if it meant he would die anyways.
The leader lowered his weapon and sneered. “Let's see how smug you are when we take you to the chamber of repentance. We will see who gets the last laugh.” the man said angrily. “Okay, form up and move out you lazy sons of snurlg. We need to reach the Fortress of Broxix by mid afternoon.”
Jrax was shoved by one of the soldiers behind him who growled “Get moving scum.”
He shook his head sadly, the road was long and the sun was high. But he would walk with shoulders straight and head held high, for he knew his cause was just.
​
End of Part 1
==End of Transmission==

http://under-these-restless-skies.blogspot.com/2014/01/was-anne-boleyn-guilty-of-adultery-and.html
On May 15, 1536, Anne Boleyn and her brother, George, were tried on charges of adultery, incest, and treason.
The verdict was a foregone conclusion. The swordsman of Calais had already been summoned to execute the queen, even before her trial. The jury was loaded with the enemies of her family, and the property of the accused was already being divided up between them to ensure they had a financial incentive to render a guilty verdict.
Did Anne know she was already condemned before she stepped into the courtroom? It seems likely. But she walked in before the court, head held high, with a pleasant smile on her face, welcoming this chance to clear her name.
The Bishop of Riez, a witness to the trial, wrote:

She walked forth in fearful beauty, and seemed unmoved. She came not as one who had to defend her cause, but with the bearing of one coming to great honour.

The indictment was read, sparing no salacious detail. Henry Norris ... Mark Smeaton ... Francis Weston ... William Brereton ... A parade of names and dates, with Anne as the aggressor, seducing the men with gifts, luring them into sin.
And then the most shocking allegation of all, that Anne had seduced her own brother, George Boleyn.

... at Westminster, procured and incited her own natural brother, George Boleyn, lord Rochford, gentleman of the privy chamber, to violate her, alluring him with her tongue in the said George's mouth, and the said George's tongue in hers, and also with kisses, presents, and jewels; whereby he, despising the commands of God, and all human laws, violated and carnally knew the said Queen, his own sister, at Westminster; which he also did on divers other days before and after at the same place, sometimes by his own procurement and sometimes by the Queen's.

Anne could be no mere adulteress who simply preferred another man to the king, for then people might laugh at him. She had to be a depraved monster, so twisted by lust that she would seduce her own brother. She had to be an English Messalina (another powerful woman against whom unlikely sexual charges were levied.) Henry himself made the wildly exaggerated and impossible claim Anne had slept with a hundred men.
Modern historians are divided as to whether the person who made the terrible accusation of incest was George's wife, Jane Parker, or the Countess of Worcester (who owed Anne money, unbeknownst to her husband.) George was incredulous at the charges.

On the basis of only one woman you are willing to believe this great evil of me, and on the basis of her allegations you are deciding my judgment?

Mark Smeaton was the only one of the accused men who confessed. He was also, coincidentally, the only one of them who was a commoner, permitted by law to be tortured to extract a confession. A servant of Henry Norris wrote he heard Mark “... was first grievously racked, which I never could know of a truth.” Norris himself was offered clemency if he confessed, but he refused. He told his chaplain in the Tower, “I would rather die a thousand deaths than be guilty of such a falsehood.”
The indictment continued with the allegation that Anne and her lovers plotted to kill the king and she promised to marry one of them after he was dead. It mentioned that she and her "concubines" had also mocked the king's clothing and songwriting, and the whole thing had been so distressing for his majesty that "certain perils" had befallen his royal body. Fortunately for him, they weren't severe enough to curtail his nightly partying with Jane Seymour.
What are we to make of these charges? Was Anne really an adulteress? The indictment was a clumsy frame-up. Had anyone been interested in the facts, Anne could easily have been proven innocent. As historian Eric Ives put it:

Investigation, furthermore, shows that even after nearly 500 years, three-quarters of these specific allegations can be disproved. In twelve cases Anne was elsewhere or else the man was.

Why were those tasked with putting together the charges against the queen so slipshod with establishing the allegations? Why didn't they look at their own records and make sure Anne was actually staying in the palaces mentioned on those dates? Why did no one consider that on one of the dates, Anne was still in seclusion, recovering from childbirth? Historians, who have only a tiny surviving portion of the records of the day, are able to reconstruct her whereabouts. Why didn't they?
The answer can only be that they thought it wouldn't matter. The verdict was already decided before they even wrote up the charges. No one would be interested in proving the facts, one way or the other.
Had Anne been permitted to know the charges against her in advance, or allowed to gather evidence for a defense, she could have easily shown she could not have committed the crimes of which she was accused. But criminal defendants in the Tudor era were not given such opportunities.
On only eight occasions do the whereabouts of Anne and the accused coincide. But even then, would adultery have been possible?
At court, Tudor queens were surrounded by servants at all times. Even during her most intimate moments, Anne would have had a servant with her, or at least standing outside the door. Servants even slept in the queen's room, the favored ones sometimes sharing her bed. Getting away from all of those watching eyes to have sex, without creating a storm of gossip, would have been nearly impossible.*
The answer can only be that they thought it wouldn't matter. The verdict was already decided before they even wrote up the charges. No one would be interested in proving the facts, one way or the other.
Had Anne been permitted to know the charges against her in advance, or allowed to gather evidence for a defense, she could have easily shown she could not have committed the crimes of which she was accused. But criminal defendants in the Tudor era were not given such opportunities.
On only eight occasions do the whereabouts of Anne and the accused coincide. But even then, would adultery have been possible?
At court, Tudor queens were surrounded by servants at all times. Even during her most intimate moments, Anne would have had a servant with her, or at least standing outside the door. Servants even slept in the queen's room, the favored ones sometimes sharing her bed. Getting away from all of those watching eyes to have sex, without creating a storm of gossip, would have been nearly impossible.*
Anne was an intensely religious woman, an evangelical with reformist zeal. That's often forgotten in depictions of Anne. She had a deep interest in theology; most of her books were centered on this topic. She believed that God had brought her to the throne to reform His church. She worked very hard to install reformist clerics in important positions within the church, and tried to divert the money from the dissolution of the monasteries to schools, so poor children could learn to read the Bible she was working on getting translated into English. By ignoring her faith, some writers have stripped away what Anne considered her most important work as queen.
Anne's faith provides us with a major piece of evidence regarding her innocence. While in the Tower, Anne called her servants and the constable of the Tower, William Kingston, to witness as she swore twice on the communion host that she had never committed adultery. A person of that era, expecting to see their Maker within a few hours, would never falsely swear on the host and condemn their soul to hell in the process.
As a practical gesture, Anne's oath was pointless. She was still condemned to die. But she knew that if word of it spread, it would help restore her reputation, just as she believed her words at the trial would help to clear her name.
Anne was wrong about the trial. All of the records were destroyed, and no word-for-word witness accounts have ever surfaced. The "intelligent and plausible" defense she gave is lost to us. All that remains in the records is the indictment, and Kingston's written accounts of her behavior in the Tower. Those, too, were almost lost in a 1731 library fire. According to a historian who saw the papers before the fire, the records contained a letter from Anne, angrily rejecting a plea deal which would require her to "confess." She said she would stand on her innocence unto death.
Who destroyed the trial records, and why? Was it simply the indifferent hand of Time causing their loss, or did someone deliberately cull them from the records? That only the indictment survives is suspiciously thorough for it to be simple accident or decay. But if they were destroyed, why would that be necessary? If it was truly an "open and honest" trial, why the need for secrecy?
It may be for the same reason that it may be that none of Anne's contemporary portraits survive. Henry wanted all record of Anne Boleyn erased, leaving behind nothing that would show her in a positive light. He hoped history would view her as a traitorous whore, best forgotten.
But even with the scant records that have come down to us, Anne's innocence is obvious, just as it was obvious to the Lord Mayor of London after attending the trial, when he said,

I could not observe anything in the proceedings against her, but that they were resolved to make an occasion to get rid of her at any price.

The last clue is Henry's own behavior. He spent the time between Anne's fall and execution partying with his court, and making nightly trips to visit Jane Seymour. Ambassador Eustace Chapuys, who was no fan of Anne Boleyn, wrote about it in his dispatches to the Emperor:

It should be observed that in the meantime, and in order to conceal from the public his love for Jane Seymour, the King has made her reside seven miles from this city, at the house of the Grand Squire [Sir Nicholas Carew], a rumour having been previously spread among the public that the King has not the least wish of marrying again unless he be actually urged to it by his subjects.

A few days after putting out word that the king didn't want to marry again unless his people asked him to, Henry's council obligingly "pleaded" with the king to remarry for the "good of the realm." Henry replied that coincidentally enough, he just happened to know a young woman who might be suitable...
Chapuys continued:

Although the generality of people here are glad of the execution of the said concubine, still a few find fault and grumble at the manner in which the proceedings against her have been conducted, and the condemnation of her and the rest, which is generally thought strange enough. People speak variously about the King, and certainly the slander will not cease when they hear of what passed and is passing between him and his new mistress, Jane Seymour.
Already it sounds badly in the ears of the public that the King, after such ignominy and discredit as the concubine has brought on his head, should manifest more joy and pleasure now, since her arrest and trial, than he has ever done on other occasions, for he has daily gone out to dine here and there with ladies, and sometimes has remained with them till after midnight.
I hear that on one occasion, returning by the river to Greenwich, the royal barge was actually filled with minstrels and musicians of his chamber, playing on all sorts of instruments or singing; which state of things was by many a one compared to the joy and pleasure a man feels in getting rid of a thin, old, and vicious hack in the hope of getting soon a fine horse to ride—a very peculiarly agreeable task for this king.
The other night, whilst supping with several ladies at the house of the bishop of Carlion [Carlisle], he [the King] manifested incredible joy at the arrest of Anne, as the Bishop himself came and told me the day after. Indeed, he related to me that, among other topics of conversation, the King touched on that of the concubine; telling him: "For a long time back had I predicted what would be the end of this affair, so much so that I have written a tragedy, which I have here by me." Saying which, he took out of his breast pocket a small book all written in his own hand and handed it over to the Bishop, who, however, did not examine its contents.
Perhaps these were certain ballads, which the King himself is known to have composed once, and of which the concubine and her brother had made fun, as of productions entirely worthless, which circumstance was one of the principal charges brought against them at the trial.

Chapuys noted that the king was the most cheerful cuckold he had ever heard of. He showed no sorrow over the end of his marriage to this woman he had once loved enough to destroy a thousand years of religious tradition and set Europe in a roar.
It's a chilling contrast with his behavior when Katheryn Howard was accused, accusations that the king had not engineered. Cranmer was so concerned about the king's reaction that he told him by passing him a note at mass. Henry initially doubted the allegations could be true and demanded an investigation. When it was found Katheryn had lovers before her marriage, Henry screamed and wept, and delayed for months, deciding what to do with her.
The conclusion is undeniable: Anne Boleyn was an innocent woman who died to make room for her replacement, Jane Seymour. Henry was complicit in her fall. Cromwell would have never dared to move against her without Henry's agreement.
Historian Joanna Denny said:

Henry’s hand in the whole sordid business is clearly seen: the real blood-guilt lies with the King. The source of all the horror and brutality was Henry. The whole world revolved around him and his ego.”

I hunted monsters for an international anomaly research center
Part 2
I decided instead of telling you about the next monster I’d planned I will tell you all what I did last week. I’d heard about this anomaly before, but that was because it was contained. Not by our organization but by one we work closely with. They’d been keeping it well in their Puerto Rico containment facility, but it managed to escape during a power outage. They’d insisted on trying to capture it themselves for a couple of days before they finally let me come in. Normally I’d be mad that they couldn’t catch it, but the Scape Ore Swamp Lizard Man is no walk in the park.
Standing 10 feet long, 8 feet tall, and pure muscle this thing is practically a walking tank. It has an almost inch-thick hide of small black snake-like scales. It stands on two legs but can switch to four when needed. It has a large head with a long muzzle full of sharp venomous teeth. Its face is always contorted into a scowl adding to its frightful appearance. Its back is covered in large spiked scutes which start at the head to the tip of the tail. On its two large four-fingered hands are two-inch-long nasty claws.
They deployed me the same way as always, and I landed with a light thud on the jungle floor after I was unlatched from the parachute and harness. I looked out at the darkening jungle around me. My search would be far from easy. I knew that, as I needed more information about where it was. However, after getting my sniper railgun ready I began my pursuit.
My pursuit was aimless and tiring. I had no direction, and the heat was slowly burning me alive. The jungle was full of loud squawking birds. At one point I looked up and saw in the evening light a small group of bats flying overhead.
I walked slowly and steadily scanning the quickly darkening ground for something, but as I suspected there was nothing in sight. No sigh from the lizardman. I walked on and on until finally, I found something. They were large three-toed tracks that almost looked like ones a T-rex would’ve made. My heart leaped in joy and excitement and I began following the footprints. They were easy to follow as the heavy feet had sunk deep into the wet muddy ground of the jungle. They followed no path and almost walked the way I had been walking aimlessly. Until like me, it seemed to have found something to follow.
Its path led in an almost perfect straight line, having trampled almost anything that wasn’t a tree out of its way. I noticed as I followed its tracks large claw marks in the trees. There were three and they were long and deep.
I followed for a good long while still tired but my determination had increased 10 fold now that there was a path to follow. As I walked along I began to hear something off in the distance. It was so faint it was hard to discern. At first, I thought it might be some sort of birdcall, but then it clicked in my head. It screamed. I started running as fast as I could through the jungle tripping at one point but pulling myself back up.
Eventually, I found myself running into a field. What I saw in that field I’ll never forget. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never been bothered by dead humans before. In my youth when I’d go to funerals seeing the body never disturbed me. I’d be sure but the body itself never made me uncomfortable. And after I got this job I got completely desensitized, but something about dead animals. I could never handle seeing a dead animal. I don’t know exactly why. I guess it’s because it brought me back to my childhood.
My dad was born in Mexico in 1979, but he and his family moved to Puerto Rico 3 years later. My dad lived in Puerto Rico during the horrifying but short reign of the Chupacabra. When I was little he would tell me stories about it. Fields of livestock just on the ground dead wholly drained of blood. Those stories actually started me down the route of where I am today, but I don’t think I ever really comprehended what that looked like until I saw the massacre in the field I was now in.
It almost seemed as though a sheet of blood and muscle and meat had fallen over the field. It was absolutely everywhere and dispersed throughout this massacre I could see small bits of bones. Vertebrae there, or a rib over there. It almost looked like they’d all exploded from the inside at the same time, but I know that is not what happened. I saw the footprints in the ground, I saw the claw marks in the bones. I knew the only thing that could’ve done this was the horrible beast I was hunting.
I walked around through the massacre for a while in a sort of shock. Then I finally snapped out of it and looked around again. I saw a house separated only by a now broken wood fence to the field. I instantly knew where the screams had come from and what had likely happened. I ran toward the house and a story began to unfold as I got closer. The father or man of the house must’ve come outside to defend his family because I found his body ripped apart just outside the front door.
I stepped over the body and walked into the tiny house. It was absolutely destroyed. The walls were torn apart, furniture was left shattered on the ground, and there was lots of blood. I looked over and saw a partial body on the living room floor. I grimaced when I realized the poor thing had once been a big dog. Now it was nothing but torn meat and bones. One step at a time I made my way to the back of the house down a cramped hallway. In the bedrooms were the destroyed bodies of a woman and three children. The only peace I had was that these people died quickly. I noticed at the end of the hall was a shattered glass backdoor. I stepped through it, almost slipping on the shards of glass still on the floor, and walked into the backyard. It was a tiny cleared area surrounded by trees. The ground was littered with small dog toys and in the corner was a chicken coop. The roof of it had been ripped off and shattered. I peeked in through the hole and saw lots of blood-covered eggs. It looked like, unlike the other animals, the lizardman had actually stopped eating all the chickens. Maybe all of that butchering worked up an appetite. I thought.
After calling in for the investigation crew I continued on my trail. The sun had completely set and navigated the dense jungle even with my bright headlight showing the way. Not long into it rain began pouring which completely covered the tracks. In frustration, I turned around and made my way back to the farm.
Suddenly I heard something from the treetops. It sounded almost like a faint growl and before I could do anything else the large figure of the Lizardman jumped from the trees right in front of me. It immediately slashed at my chest and left arm tearing them open causing blood to start pouring through. I let out a scream of agony and fell to the ground.
With my good right arm, I reached for a gadget on my belt and pressed it. It instantly began spraying a strong wonderful smell of flowers into the air. If there’s one thing the lizardman cannot tolerate it is sweet solid smells. It roared in anger and then sprinted in the other direction. I lay there blood seeping from my wounds wondering if I was about to die. I’m not old, only 26, but for my line of work, I’m ancient; about half the guys die on their first or second mission. If you survive the first two you will probably last much longer, but even then people die within two years meanwhile I’ve been here for 5 years.
I lay there with my eyes slowly growing heavier and heavier and then they closed and I was consumed by the darkness.
I woke up in a bright white room. The light was so blinding I kept blinking but still could hardly see anything. I noticed a woman standing in the room who was like the room wearing all white.
“Am I dead?” I sputtered out in my half-dazed confusion.
The woman let out a slight chuckle: “No you’re not dead. You’re in the medical wing of our Puerto Rican location.” She explained.
As she was talking everything seemed to clear around me. It was a small hospital room and the woman was short in a doctor's coat with dark hair tied in a bun.
“Who’s we?” I asked.
“USDAC,” She said, busy with something at her table.
I knew USDAC they were the United States Department of Anomaly Containment. They were the ones the Lizardman had escaped from.
“Where’s my organization? Why didn’t they send the team out to get me?” I asked angrily.
“I’m not quite sure. They never even told us you went down. Our investigation team was looking around the jungle when they found you.” She said with a genuinely confused look on her face.
I scanned the room again and saw on a chair next to my bed all my gear laid out nicely. I reached for my walkie, grabbed it, and pulled it off of my belt.
“This is Trigger to dispatch, do you copy?” I asked through the device.
“We copy, you aren’t dead?” The receiver asked, obviously very confused.
“Not yet. Why didn’t you send the team out to get me?” I asked more confused than angry at this point.
“They said you were gone. They said the lizardman had got you.” He said.
“Well, he hasn’t got me yet,” I said defiantly then hung up.
“Mam, I’m going to go finish what I started, but I am going to need a few things.”
I suppose a few things were a bit of an understatement. I had them get the best tracker they could find out here, which they quickly got to do. I got a whole new set of equipment more specialized for the task at hand I filed a hasty but fierce resignation letter to my organization siting leaving me for dead as the primary cause. They never even got back to me and needless to say, I was pissed. I knew the moment USDAC found out I was no longer part of the organization they’d send me away, so I decided I’d better be quick with this operation.
I pulled the small Uhaul full of supplies down the dirt road. Next to me sat Santiago, an older Native American man with a long black salt and pepper braided ponytail. He’d worked with both my organization and USDAC for a number of years and had much experience in tracking beasties like this one.
“So, where exactly are we going?” I asked looking at him.
“Well we’re going to the most recent attack and I’m hoping to get there by noon so if you could step on it that would be lovely.” He said sounding rather harsh.
I nodded and pushed slightly more on the accelerator. I would’ve started flying down this road but this truck was not built for dirt roads so I had to do my best.
As I drove Santiago busied himself with a map. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he put small red x’s on certain spots. I assumed those were the previous attacks. Occasionally he would look up from his work to make sure I was still going in the right direction and finally, after he directed me to turn onto a smaller more unkept dirt road we arrived at the farm.
It was eerily similar to the other. The house was destroyed and the field was full of massacred goats. Although the main difference was this one was swarming with USDAC investigation teams. Four big black vans were parked in front of the home, almost blocking my view. I stopped the truck and me and Santiago both stepped out. We walked over to the house and one of the investigators met us at the door.
He was tall with a weathered face and a strong chin that made him look like an actor. He had nicely done silver hair, stubble, and hazel eyes. A slight grin appeared on his face when he saw us.
“You two must be the hunters, I’m Detective Slade.” He greeted, sticking his hand out for a shake.
I took his hand first. “Hello Slade, I’m Agent Biel,” I said shaking his hand with Santiago quickly doing the same.
After we finished with formalities Slade led us around the house and into the field behind it. It felt like deja vu looking at the field. It told almost the exact same story mine did. Dozens of torn-apart goats and a small now empty chicken coop. I looked at all of it in disgust. The animals had no time to defend themselves they were just destroyed.
Santiago began scanning the mess on the ground looking for tracks to follow. Meanwhile, I stood talking with Slade.
“This is the eighth attack in four days, it looks like it’s making two attacks every night.” Slade explained, “So far it has killed 37 people, 650 goats, 242 cows, and has eaten almost 300 chickens.”
“Have you noticed a pattern?” I asked.
“Besides attacking at night not really. It usually attacks the fields first, but even that isn’t always the case.”
“I found something.” Santiago interrupted.
He stood by the edge of the field that met the jungle. I saw the large tracks of the beast leading into the jungle.

**Me and Santiago lugged the heavy equipment through the jungle we were tired and hot, but we continued knowing that the lizardman was likely close by. The sun had begun to sink low in the sky as we marched on. I was surprised at the path of the lizardman it had literally walked a straight line for miles upon miles. Only ever turning for a large tree or a hill. We were hoping we would get to the things nest before it went on its next night excursion but we weren’t extremely hopeful. I could only hope that the wretched thing was still wherever it rests.** **Suddenly their hike was interrupted by a loud call. I looked above to see a large tropical bird eyeing me from a branch. It was brightly colored vaguely reminding me of a parrot. Oddly I gave the bird a nod and then caught up to Santiago who’d ignored the bird and kept walking.** **Eventually, the sun set and we both had to turn our lights on. My body was beginning to grow heavy and I could tell it was the same for Santiago, but right as we seemed to the point of giving up we arrived at the edge of a lake. It was small and had short sandy beaches separating it from the jungle. Perfectly outlined in the sand were the feet of the lizardman. It had clear as day walked straight into the lake. We both looked at each other. He was clearly as unsure about the situation as I was. We stood there contemplating when I noticed something.** **The lake had a few logs floating in it but one didn’t look like the other. It was far too symmetrical. I scanned my light over it and realized the texture I’d thought of as bark was actually scaled. Then suddenly my light scanned over to the head and its bright red eyes opened wide. It let out a roar and started swimming toward us. I dropped my bag and hurriedly put my remaining gear on. Santiago dropped his and took aim with his rifle.** **BANG! The shot echoed through the quiet air and I saw it clearly hit the thing right in the center of the forehead. The bullet tinked off like it had hit thick steel. The Lizardman swam closer and as the water got shallower it transitioned from swimming to sprinting. The second it took a step on shore I struck. I slammed one of my gauntlet-bearing fists into the thing's face. There was a loud audible crack as it fell over. It quickly stood back up and slashed at my thick steel armor. It did nothing but scrape off some paint and I pulled my fist back and punched it again. It stumbled again and before it could recover I punched it again and again.** **Immediately after the punch it lunged forward its jaws latching on to either side of my helmet. I heard the sounds of it and felt the metal beginning to bend in on itself. I kicked the thing where I knew it would hurt. It unlatched from my face and I uppercut it right in the lower jaw. It fell into the water letting out a whimper-type noise as it did.** **I stood over the beast having misjudged it as defeated. In a second wind, it grabbed me by the leg and threw me into a tree. I heard my suit crack and crunch having been badly damaged. The lizardman started over at me threateningly and in a quick burst of speed it charged over to me.** **BANG! BANG! BANG! His first shot struck the side of its head getting its attention, and as it turned the second bullet struck it directly in its left eye. The third and final bullet struck its nose harmlessly. It roar in pain and charged towards Santiago, but I jumped up and grabbed it by the tail. I held it still for a moment before it did something that caught me off, guard. It turned around and bit off its own tail. It then continued charging toward Santiago. His bullets struck it again and again but its hide was far too strong. Quickly I dropped the tail and pulled out a canister pulling the pin and throwing it. A wonderful smell erupted from it as it soared through the air and landed right in front of Santiago.** **The Lizardman backed away from him dizzy from the overpowering smell. I pulled myself off the ground and charged towards it. I jumped on top of the thing pinning it to the ground.** **“Meds!” I yelled to him as the Lizardman was already struggling.** **Santiago reached into its mouth that I held open and shoved the tranquilizer down its throat. After another minute of shaking and struggling it finally blacked out. I pulled out my walkie and called in dispatch.** **“The lizard is down,” I said simply.** **Within minutes they had a dozen helicopters out there and had the creature properly restrained.** **I walked over to the man who appeared to be in charge. He was average height with blonde hair combed to the side, aviator glasses, and a nice gray suit. “I’d recommend you step up the security on that thing,” I suggested.** **He turned around and looked at me for a moment, almost studying me.** 

“We will be.” He said finally. “I am personally seeing that it is brought to our most secure location.”
“Good, good, I don’t want to ever deal with that thing again.” I chuckled.
He looked closer at me after I said that and it seemed to click in his head who I was.
“Agent Biel, I’m very happy to see you. I got word of your resignation at UARF.” He said sounding oddly sad.
I prepared for the worst as I was technically not supposed to be here.
“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly happy with being left for dead,” I grumbled.
“Well sir I promise if you take my offer you won’t be left for dead,” He said smiling now.
I paused for a moment unsure what he meant. Then it seemed to click he was hiring me and I took his hand and shook it vigorously.
“I do accept your offer, sir,” I yelled excitedly.
“You can call me Dr.Barclay,” He said politely shaking my hand back.
So that is how I was hired here at USDAC and I’ve already discovered that they do things quite differently here but that is a story for another day. Biel out.

❀ Continuing to downsize! Please contact me via direct message (shortcut here), don't use the instant chat function. Per pen_swap rules, please comment on this thread before proceeding with a transaction. Thank you!~ ❀

Pens:

Pens capped
Pens uncapped
❀ Pilot Capless Decimo "20 Colors" series "Brown" [A2]

I've collected too many Capless pens for the different custom grinds in various colors of the rainbow, as I'm a big fan of the pens. Gradually deciding on the colors to let go. This Brown is a cool slightly red-leaning brown, toward dark chocolate. The finish of the 20 Colors series is brushed anodized aluminum, unlike the standard glossy lacquer typical for Pilot Capless pens. The finish feels dry and satiny to touch.
Inked a couple times, in mint condition. Will come with a Pilot gift box, CON-40 converter, and metal cartridge cap, and a pack of cartridge refills.
Nib is a rhodium-plated 18K gold Fine.
$185 + shipping

❀ Sailor Pro Gear Slim "Manyo" series "Willow" colorway fountain pen with 14K MF nib [A2]

Photo album
- Excellent condition. Comes with original gift box, white/silver converter, and a 50ml bottle of Sailor Manyo ink. Originally the pen was bundled with Sailor Manyo "Nekoyonagi" ink, but I don't have that ink anymore, and it was much too pale when used with this pen. I'm including a powdery grayed blurple "Kakitsubata" instead, which is nicely legible with this nib.- milky pastel grayed lavender with a glossy finish and translucent aqua cyan finials. Rhodium-plated hardware. Silver flower finial design on matching lavender.
$190 + shipping

❀ Sailor Pro Gear Slim "World Tea Time / Fika Hallongrotta" fountain pen with 14K MF nib [B]

- Excellent condition. I've inked this pen a few times, so rating it as a B. Comes with original gift box and converter.
- transparent red barrel with very fine glass shimmer. Milky-red translucent cap with shimmer. Translucent brown section with no shimmer. Solid color old-engraving style nib. Red-filled finial decoration.
$157 + shipping

❀ OPUS 88 Fantasia fountain pen in Black colorway with EF and 1.4mm stub nibs [A2]

- Excellent condition, only inked a couple of times then kept in a box. Comes with original box, glass eyedropper pipette, and 2 nib units: unused 1.4mm stub and a used EF nib unit. The EF nib unit housing has some scratches around the edges, as I tried fitting a vintage nib in its place unsuccessfully, so I slotted the original EF back, and it works perfectly.
- Ebonite cap and piston plunger handle, acrylic barrel. Japanese eyedropper style with shut-off valve.
$100 + shipping

❀ Parker 51 "Demi" Aerometric fountain pen with lustroloy cap and medium-ish nib, Teal [C]

- This is a smaller "Demi" size of standard Parker 51. Gold nib.
- Engraving over the section band says "Made in USA 51"
- Perfect operation, clean, the original pli-glass sac is in great condition. Microscratches all over due to age and use.
$100 + shipping

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Notebooks:

❀ Nanami Seven Seas Japanese-exclusive 7mm Crossfield journals with New TR52g

Timestamp
I purchased these three journals during the transition period from the "old" Tomoegawa machine #7 to the "new" Tomoegawa machine #9 production, hoping to catch the old stock paper. Upon testing the paper recently, I verified that the notebooks contain the "new" Tomoe River paper.
A5, 384 pages, 7x7mm light bluish gray grid with a thin white border around each page. Lay-flat binding. 2 have a slate blue cover and one is an olive green cover. I tested one of the blue journals and the olive one, to confirm the paper in each. The testing was done discretely on the 3rd page from the end in the bottom inner corner, as follows: https://i.imgur.com/65DGAFl.jpg
Selling here at less than half of what I paid per journal from Japan: $20 per each.
ALL CLAIMED

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Inks:

https://i.imgur.com/i0koBe4.jpg
- amounts indicated are approximate % of originally-filled amount
❀ Colorverse "Dust Storm + Valles Marineris" set 65ml + 15ml, 99%. With original box. $27
❀ Colorverse "Gravity Wave" 65ml, 50%, partially decanted. $16
❀ Colorverse Project Kingdom "Kuyjang-Gak" 30ml, 98%. Muted/grayed terracotta-red, dark edging with wet nibs. With original box. $12.50
❀ Birmingham Pen Company "Barley", 65ml, 99%. Muted yellow with dark edging in wet lines.Comes with original box. $13.50 SOLD

I hunted monsters for an international anomaly research center
Part 2
I decided instead of telling you about the next monster I’d planned I will tell you all what I did last week. I’d heard about this anomaly before, but that was because it was contained. Not by our organization but by one we work closely with. They’d been keeping it well in their Puerto Rico containment facility, but it managed to escape during a power outage. They’d insisted on trying to capture it themselves for a couple of days before they finally let me come in. Normally I’d be mad that they couldn’t catch it, but the Scape Ore Swamp Lizard Man is no walk in the park.
Standing 10 feet long, 8 feet tall, and pure muscle this thing is practically a walking tank. It has an almost inch-thick hide of small black snake-like scales. It stands on two legs but can switch to four when needed. It has a large head with a long muzzle full of sharp venomous teeth. Its face is always contorted into a scowl adding to its frightful appearance. Its back is covered in large spiked scutes which start at the head to the tip of the tail. On its two large four-fingered hands are two-inch-long nasty claws.
They deployed me the same way as always, and I landed with a light thud on the jungle floor after I was unlatched from the parachute and harness. I looked out at the darkening jungle around me. My search would be far from easy. I knew that, as I needed more information about where it was. However, after getting my sniper railgun ready I began my pursuit.
My pursuit was aimless and tiring. I had no direction, and the heat was slowly burning me alive. The jungle was full of loud squawking birds. At one point I looked up and saw in the evening light a small group of bats flying overhead.
I walked slowly and steadily scanning the quickly darkening ground for something, but as I suspected there was nothing in sight. No sigh from the lizardman. I walked on and on until finally, I found something. They were large three-toed tracks that almost looked like ones a T-rex would’ve made. My heart leaped in joy and excitement and I began following the footprints. They were easy to follow as the heavy feet had sunk deep into the wet muddy ground of the jungle. They followed no path and almost walked the way I had been walking aimlessly. Until like me, it seemed to have found something to follow.
Its path led in an almost perfect straight line, having trampled almost anything that wasn’t a tree out of its way. I noticed as I followed its tracks large claw marks in the trees. There were three and they were long and deep.
I followed for a good long while still tired but my determination had increased 10 fold now that there was a path to follow. As I walked along I began to hear something off in the distance. It was so faint it was hard to discern. At first, I thought it might be some sort of birdcall, but then it clicked in my head. It screamed. I started running as fast as I could through the jungle tripping at one point but pulling myself back up.
Eventually, I found myself running into a field. What I saw in that field I’ll never forget. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never been bothered by dead humans before. In my youth when I’d go to funerals seeing the body never disturbed me. I’d be sure but the body itself never made me uncomfortable. And after I got this job I got completely desensitized, but something about dead animals. I could never handle seeing a dead animal. I don’t know exactly why. I guess it’s because it brought me back to my childhood.
My dad was born in Mexico in 1979, but he and his family moved to Puerto Rico 3 years later. My dad lived in Puerto Rico during the horrifying but short reign of the Chupacabra. When I was little he would tell me stories about it. Fields of livestock just on the ground dead wholly drained of blood. Those stories actually started me down the route of where I am today, but I don’t think I ever really comprehended what that looked like until I saw the massacre in the field I was now in.
It almost seemed as though a sheet of blood and muscle and meat had fallen over the field. It was absolutely everywhere and dispersed throughout this massacre I could see small bits of bones. Vertebrae there, or a rib over there. It almost looked like they’d all exploded from the inside at the same time, but I know that is not what happened. I saw the footprints in the ground, I saw the claw marks in the bones. I knew the only thing that could’ve done this was the horrible beast I was hunting.
I walked around through the massacre for a while in a sort of shock. Then I finally snapped out of it and looked around again. I saw a house separated only by a now broken wood fence to the field. I instantly knew where the screams had come from and what had likely happened. I ran toward the house and a story began to unfold as I got closer. The father or man of the house must’ve come outside to defend his family because I found his body ripped apart just outside the front door.
I stepped over the body and walked into the tiny house. It was absolutely destroyed. The walls were torn apart, furniture was left shattered on the ground, and there was lots of blood. I looked over and saw a partial body on the living room floor. I grimaced when I realized the poor thing had once been a big dog. Now it was nothing but torn meat and bones. One step at a time I made my way to the back of the house down a cramped hallway. In the bedrooms were the destroyed bodies of a woman and three children. The only peace I had was that these people died quickly. I noticed at the end of the hall was a shattered glass backdoor. I stepped through it, almost slipping on the shards of glass still on the floor, and walked into the backyard. It was a tiny cleared area surrounded by trees. The ground was littered with small dog toys and in the corner was a chicken coop. The roof of it had been ripped off and shattered. I peeked in through the hole and saw lots of blood-covered eggs. It looked like, unlike the other animals, the lizardman had actually stopped eating all the chickens. Maybe all of that butchering worked up an appetite. I thought.
After calling in for the investigation crew I continued on my trail. The sun had completely set and navigated the dense jungle even with my bright headlight showing the way. Not long into it rain began pouring which completely covered the tracks. In frustration, I turned around and made my way back to the farm.
Suddenly I heard something from the treetops. It sounded almost like a faint growl and before I could do anything else the large figure of the Lizardman jumped from the trees right in front of me. It immediately slashed at my chest and left arm tearing them open causing blood to start pouring through. I let out a scream of agony and fell to the ground.
With my good right arm, I reached for a gadget on my belt and pressed it. It instantly began spraying a strong wonderful smell of flowers into the air. If there’s one thing the lizardman cannot tolerate it is sweet solid smells. It roared in anger and then sprinted in the other direction. I lay there blood seeping from my wounds wondering if I was about to die. I’m not old, only 26, but for my line of work, I’m ancient; about half the guys die on their first or second mission. If you survive the first two you will probably last much longer, but even then people die within two years meanwhile I’ve been here for 5 years.
I lay there with my eyes slowly growing heavier and heavier and then they closed and I was consumed by the darkness.
I woke up in a bright white room. The light was so blinding I kept blinking but still could hardly see anything. I noticed a woman standing in the room who was like the room wearing all white.
“Am I dead?” I sputtered out in my half-dazed confusion.
The woman let out a slight chuckle: “No you’re not dead. You’re in the medical wing of our Puerto Rican location.” She explained.
As she was talking everything seemed to clear around me. It was a small hospital room and the woman was short in a doctor's coat with dark hair tied in a bun.
“Who’s we?” I asked.
“USDAC,” She said, busy with something at her table.
I knew USDAC they were the United States Department of Anomaly Containment. They were the ones the Lizardman had escaped from.
“Where’s my organization? Why didn’t they send the team out to get me?” I asked angrily.
“I’m not quite sure. They never even told us you went down. Our investigation team was looking around the jungle when they found you.” She said with a genuinely confused look on her face.
I scanned the room again and saw on a chair next to my bed all my gear laid out nicely. I reached for my walkie, grabbed it, and pulled it off of my belt.
“This is Trigger to dispatch, do you copy?” I asked through the device.
“We copy, you aren’t dead?” The receiver asked, obviously very confused.
“Not yet. Why didn’t you send the team out to get me?” I asked more confused than angry at this point.
“They said you were gone. They said the lizardman had got you.” He said.
“Well, he hasn’t got me yet,” I said defiantly then hung up.
“Mam, I’m going to go finish what I started, but I am going to need a few things.”
I suppose a few things were a bit of an understatement. I had them get the best tracker they could find out here, which they quickly got to do. I got a whole new set of equipment more specialized for the task at hand I filed a hasty but fierce resignation letter to my organization siting leaving me for dead as the primary cause. They never even got back to me and needless to say, I was pissed. I knew the moment USDAC found out I was no longer part of the organization they’d send me away, so I decided I’d better be quick with this operation.
I pulled the small Uhaul full of supplies down the dirt road. Next to me sat Santiago, an older Native American man with a long black salt and pepper braided ponytail. He’d worked with both my organization and USDAC for a number of years and had much experience in tracking beasties like this one.
“So, where exactly are we going?” I asked looking at him.
“Well we’re going to the most recent attack and I’m hoping to get there by noon so if you could step on it that would be lovely.” He said sounding rather harsh.
I nodded and pushed slightly more on the accelerator. I would’ve started flying down this road but this truck was not built for dirt roads so I had to do my best.
As I drove Santiago busied himself with a map. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he put small red x’s on certain spots. I assumed those were the previous attacks. Occasionally he would look up from his work to make sure I was still going in the right direction and finally, after he directed me to turn onto a smaller more unkept dirt road we arrived at the farm.
It was eerily similar to the other. The house was destroyed and the field was full of massacred goats. Although the main difference was this one was swarming with USDAC investigation teams. Four big black vans were parked in front of the home, almost blocking my view. I stopped the truck and me and Santiago both stepped out. We walked over to the house and one of the investigators met us at the door.
He was tall with a weathered face and a strong chin that made him look like an actor. He had nicely done silver hair, stubble, and hazel eyes. A slight grin appeared on his face when he saw us.
“You two must be the hunters, I’m Detective Slade.” He greeted, sticking his hand out for a shake.
I took his hand first. “Hello Slade, I’m Agent Biel,” I said shaking his hand with Santiago quickly doing the same.
After we finished with formalities Slade led us around the house and into the field behind it. It felt like deja vu looking at the field. It told almost the exact same story mine did. Dozens of torn-apart goats and a small now empty chicken coop. I looked at all of it in disgust. The animals had no time to defend themselves they were just destroyed.
Santiago began scanning the mess on the ground looking for tracks to follow. Meanwhile, I stood talking with Slade.
“This is the eighth attack in four days, it looks like it’s making two attacks every night.” Slade explained, “So far it has killed 37 people, 650 goats, 242 cows, and has eaten almost 300 chickens.”
“Have you noticed a pattern?” I asked.
“Besides attacking at night not really. It usually attacks the fields first, but even that isn’t always the case.”
“I found something.” Santiago interrupted.
He stood by the edge of the field that met the jungle. I saw the large tracks of the beast leading into the jungle.
Me and Santiago lugged the heavy equipment through the jungle we were tired and hot, but we continued knowing that the lizardman was likely close by. The sun had begun to sink low in the sky as we marched on. I was surprised at the path of the lizardman it had literally walked a straight line for miles upon miles. Only ever turning for a large tree or a hill. We were hoping we would get to the things nest before it went on its next night excursion but we weren’t extremely hopeful. I could only hope that the wretched thing was still wherever it rests.
Suddenly their hike was interrupted by a loud call. I looked above to see a large tropical bird eyeing me from a branch. It was brightly colored vaguely reminding me of a parrot. Oddly I gave the bird a nod and then caught up to Santiago who’d ignored the bird and kept walking.
Eventually, the sun set and we both had to turn our lights on. My body was beginning to grow heavy and I could tell it was the same for Santiago, but right as we seemed to the point of giving up we arrived at the edge of a lake. It was small and had short sandy beaches separating it from the jungle. Perfectly outlined in the sand were the feet of the lizardman. It had clear as day walked straight into the lake. We both looked at each other. He was clearly as unsure about the situation as I was. We stood there contemplating when I noticed something.
The lake had a few logs floating in it but one didn’t look like the other. It was far too symmetrical. I scanned my light over it and realized the texture I’d thought of as bark was actually scaled. Then suddenly my light scanned over to the head and its bright red eyes opened wide. It let out a roar and started swimming toward us. I dropped my bag and hurriedly put my remaining gear on. Santiago dropped his and took aim with his rifle.
BANG! The shot echoed through the quiet air and I saw it clearly hit the thing right in the center of the forehead. The bullet tinked off like it had hit thick steel. The Lizardman swam closer and as the water got shallower it transitioned from swimming to sprinting. The second it took a step on shore I struck. I slammed one of my gauntlet-bearing fists into the thing's face. There was a loud audible crack as it fell over. It quickly stood back up and slashed at my thick steel armor. It did nothing but scrape off some paint and I pulled my fist back and punched it again. It stumbled again and before it could recover I punched it again and again.
Immediately after the punch it lunged forward its jaws latching on to either side of my helmet. I heard the sounds of it and felt the metal beginning to bend in on itself. I kicked the thing where I knew it would hurt. It unlatched from my face and I uppercut it right in the lower jaw. It fell into the water letting out a whimper-type noise as it did.
I stood over the beast having misjudged it as defeated. In a second wind, it grabbed me by the leg and threw me into a tree. I heard my suit crack and crunch having been badly damaged. The lizardman started over at me threateningly and in a quick burst of speed it charged over to me.
BANG! BANG! BANG! His first shot struck the side of its head getting its attention, and as it turned the second bullet struck it directly in its left eye. The third and final bullet struck its nose harmlessly. It roar in pain and charged towards Santiago, but I jumped up and grabbed it by the tail. I held it still for a moment before it did something that caught me off, guard. It turned around and bit off its own tail. It then continued charging toward Santiago. His bullets struck it again and again but its hide was far too strong. Quickly I dropped the tail and pulled out a canister pulling the pin and throwing it. A wonderful smell erupted from it as it soared through the air and landed right in front of Santiago.
The Lizardman backed away from him dizzy from the overpowering smell. I pulled myself off the ground and charged towards it. I jumped on top of the thing pinning it to the ground.
“Meds!” I yelled to him as the Lizardman was already struggling.
Santiago reached into its mouth that I held open and shoved the tranquilizer down its throat. After another minute of shaking and struggling it finally blacked out. I pulled out my walkie and called in dispatch.
“The lizard is down,” I said simply.
Within minutes they had a dozen helicopters out there and had the creature properly restrained.
I walked over to the man who appeared to be in charge. He was average height with blonde hair combed to the side, aviator glasses, and a nice gray suit. “I’d recommend you step up the security on that thing,” I suggested.
He turned around and looked at me for a moment, almost studying me.
“We will be.” He said finally. “I am personally seeing that it is brought to our most secure location.”
“Good, good, I don’t want to ever deal with that thing again.” I chuckled.
He looked closer at me after I said that and it seemed to click in his head who I was.
“Agent Biel, I’m very happy to see you. I got word of your resignation at UARF.” He said sounding oddly sad.
I prepared for the worst as I was technically not supposed to be here.
“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly happy with being left for dead,” I grumbled.
“Well sir I promise if you take my offer you won’t be left for dead,” He said smiling now.
I paused for a moment unsure what he meant. Then it seemed to click he was hiring me and I took his hand and shook it vigorously.
“I do accept your offer, sir,” I yelled excitedly.
“You can call me Dr.Barclay,” He said politely shaking my hand back.
So that is how I was hired here at USDAC and I’ve already discovered that they do things quite differently here but that is a story for another day. Biel out.

I bought a king size Helix Midnight mattress about 2 years ago. I really liked it at first, but lately I’ve been kicking and moving a lot in my sleep apparently, and keeping her up at night. I have the mattress sitting directly on a kind of cheap metal slat frame without a box spring. What is the best first step for reducing motion transfer? Would it be getting a box spring, a better bed frame, or a mattress topper?

I know it's not laziness, it's decision fatigue and perfectionism and overwhelm and exhaustion and having too many ideas all at once and not finishing what I started. But goddamn, I hate myself so much for it.
I moved into a bigger apartment in October. I was so excited about the move! More space, green surroundings, shorter commute to work, bright sunny rooms, I had so many plans! I have a well-paying job, so my plan was to ditch all of my second-hand and cheap Ikea furniture and buy some quality solid wood furniture, paint the walls fun colors (they're bright white) and decorate with purpose.
Oh, well... Now it's July and all I have is a matress, a washing machine, a tiny fridge and bathroom cabinets. What's missing is... basically everything else. No kitchen, no bed frame, no couch, no dinner table, no closet, no decoration, no color on the walls, nothing. I basically live on the floor and on my matress. I'm so goddamned paralyzed by all the stuff I have to do.
I want a colorful apartment, but not *too* colorful because that's visually overwhelming. So i have to decide on a concise color scheme (can't decide though!). I bought Susan Pinsky's book on organizing solutions because I want my apartment to be ADHD friendly (have I managed to read more than one chapter? haha, no). I currently have about 30 neon pink post-it notes on the walls with ideas. I also have about 300 notes brain-dumped in my to-do app. I started several pinterest boards and have even more notes in OneNote. I need to merge them all into one place. I learned from several decluttering YouTubers that everything needs a home in a nicely labeled see-through container. So now my living room is currently littered with several piles of cables and electronics that I tried to sort but got bored halfway through. I still need to give my new adress to every insurance and acquaintance and there's several unopened important-looking letters piling up on the floor.
I know sometimes "good enough" instead of "perfect" is ok. But I will likely stay in this apartment for years, maybe decades, so I want to optimize it as much as I can, I want it "perfect".
And here's the kicker: I just had two weeks of vacation and wanted to hyperfocus on my apartment, because at the end of a normal work week I'm just too exhausted to get anything done. What have I done in those two weeks you ask? Played the newest Monkey Island (fun!), sleep and lay in bed (still tired), sat on my balkony to soak up the sun and read a book for aprox. 45min (should do that more often!), played roughly 50 hours of Merge Mansion and Project Makeover (yay, dopamine!). What have I *not done*? Get anything done in my apartment. Literally nothing. FML why does this have to be so hard!?

I'm moving to a new studio in a month, and unfortunately I was stupid enough to not get the measurements of the apartment when I visited. However, I have two pictures and a video of the space. No floor plan though. For reference, I live in New York State.
Room Images and video
The important dimensions are the main width and depth and the kitchen width and depth, as well as the size of the cutout for the bathroom/closet.
If I can get the basic floor plan, I can figure out a furniture plan, but it could be nice to have some help too. I need a few things in my studio and want to sort of naturally segment between them without making it cumbersome to navigate: I'm a PhD student, so I have a tight budget.

• Sleeping area: Queen size bed, night stand(s, preferably), potentially a small dresser type thing at the foot to serve primarily as a surface.
• Work area: I work from home and need a rather large desk (don't want to go significantly smaller than 48in long, 24 in deep) that I would prefer to have against the wall due to making use of monitor stands. Due to it being optimal for my work, I have two monitors in front of me and one to the left, so I would prefer the desk in a corner, but this almost certainly isn't possible. This area would benefit from an organizer as well (ex: file cabinet/drawers), but I can forego this if necessary.
• Kitchen table: I'd want a simple small kitchen table for when I have a guests and/or don't want to eat elsewhere in the apartment. Also in favor of this, a sturdy bar-height table would be nice as an additional cooking surface.
• Living area: It would be nice to be able to have guests not need to sit on my bed or have a place to just sit and relax other than my desk. A loveseat and coffee table would be nice, but if space is an issue then this will be the first to go.

Some additional considerations and things that could be nice if space allows: - A TV: I'd like to have something that I could use when entertaining guests (and myself). Ideally, this would be something that can be easily used from both the living area (given it exists) and my bed. One option is a cheap TV and rotatable stand. (I'd just need to find a cheap TV for this, somehow) - Additional surface for kitchen. That kitchen is just... super small. If possible, I'd like to have a larger table than just a simple 2-seater.