Atlantic city convention center free parking

I am looking for someone to take over the remaining ~2 months of my lease in beautiful Los Feliz - Beginning June 12, 2023 - August 7, 2023.
This 1 bed / 1 bath apartment (700sq ft) will come unfurnished.
I am offering to cover the entire portion June rent out of my own pocket so you will not be required to make any payments until July 1, 2023!
Base rent is $2,591 per month + ~$120 for utilities (water, trash, etc.).
Apartment will be fully transferred to your name during this time and you will have the option to renew the lease thereafter.
The apartment complex has all types of modern amenities (gym, pool, rooftop, etc.) including off-street/secure parking (which is included in rent).
In order to qualify for renting this unit, you must provide proof that you make at least 2.5 times rent on a monthly basis and will likely be subject to a general credit check.
Pets are welcome but for an additional fee per month (set up with the leasing office).
SERIOUS INQUIRES ONLY!
If you are interested in moving forward with taking over the lease, it's actually pretty simple.
The leasing office will need you to fill out a physical application as well as provide us $56.00 in a certified check or money order for your application fee. This fee covers your credit and background check.
After that, the leasing office would need to verify your income by getting your 2 most recent paystubs or your 3 most recent bank statements from the account where income is reflected.
Once the leasing office determines you qualify for the apartment on your own, they would add you to my lease and then you and I would sign a roommate release form for the changeover date and the leasing office could then remove me from the lease.
More photos of actual unit available upon request.
About this location: Located in the heart of LA's foodie district, Vue Los Feliz boasts an unbeatable central location. We are only minutes from the vibrant Barnsdall Art Park, historic Los Feliz Theater, and some of the best small eateries in Los Angeles, CA near Hollywood. Our newly renovated apartment homes feature wood-style flooring and handsome custom cabinetry. Enjoy stunning city views from your private balcony and the rooftop terrace. We offer a host of excellent amenities, including an indoor swimming pool and high-end fitness center. Our spacious one bedroom apartment home for rent in Los Angeles is tailored to your modern lifestyle.

Ahh, dear reader, hello there! So lovely to see you once more... well figuratively speaking that is… or is it?
After all, I am exceedingly well versed in The Arts. Maybe I am watching you at this very moment, with Clairvoyance or perhaps a Scrying Spell or maybe an enchanted object like the good old fashioned Crystal Ball? The Magus has one you know…
Just teasing… or am I? …teeheehee…
Anyway, this latest instalment comes to you courtesy via a Voice to Text application my Magus recently acquired for me, as he said listening to me speak aloud while typing is too distracting for him. I find that interesting considering his immense mental discipline yet understandable at the same time. After all, extoling ones inner monolog to an uncaring audience would be tedious to experience. Hmm… I’ve just thought of a new torture for the souls of the dammed, specifically for writers who think they are better than everyone around them. How ingenious of me!
In any case, I would prefer to distract him in other ways, mark you.
I also must say what wonderfully inventive creatures you humans are! An application of mathematical code, the base language of reality. It is very much like a spell in its function and nature I would say, that it allows my phone, yes the Magus got me one, to record all I say and transcribes it into neatly typed words on its electronic pages. It’s like having a monk-scribe in your pocket! Unquestionably wonderful!
So as I relax in my fabulously hot, luxurious scented, oiled bubble bath, I can easily regale you with further tales of the adventures I have had thus far on this wonderous blue and brown spherical rock that is third in line from our star. And I do not have to type with two fingers either, which is a massive bonus let me tell you!
If memory serves… ahh yes, we had just returned to the car where I saw a sign of my Magus’s humour on display in the form of his licence plate.
I do have to admit dear reader, I was indeed highly amused. He knows he’s going to hell, he just insists that it be on his terms! I love it! Such confidence, such audacious willpower.
That is exceedingly… stimulating for Succubi.
Ok dammit, it makes me tremendously horny, and I’m not talking about the ones on my head either you know! We are incredibly lusty beings, us Succubi, after all.
I was already in a highly ‘excited’ state when we got to the car, so much so that I had to use my Cell Adjustment Psionic discipline to tremendously dull down my inflamed senses as I did not wish to leave the tell-tale mark of my inflamed passion on the lower back portion of my new dress and also not on the car-seat when I sat back down in the vehicle.
Ahem…
After a few moments, which caused the Magus to glance up at me with a slightly puzzled expression, of standing outside the car (he had no idea nor cared… hmmph!) I opened the door and folded myself back inside the vehicle and resumed my seat. I later learned that I could have mostly avoided this… embarrassment… by actually wearing what you call absorbent lined underwear! I wasn’t wearing panties at the time as I was totally unaware of their existence. I do so now as its much more comfortable in lots of ways and in addition, stops the shiver when an errant chill wind blows unexpectedly up your gusset!
Moving on…
Getting into the car, the Magus paused until I had done up my seatbelt before starting the engine, waiting for another car to pass us by before safely pulling out and sedately driving off. I later learned that we could have gone screaming down the road in a cloud of burning rubber if the Magus was of a mind to. I would have if given the opportunity! Something to look forward to dear reader.
Instead, we drifted slowly through the placidly moving traffic as I watched the sun descend below the horizon of the ocean. I had only been back here on Earth for a few hours but every second was total bliss. I do not think that most of you humans realize how good you have it here. Even those who do not reside in the more developed and advanced nations, being on Earth is special.
There are infinity more worse places you can be, let me assure you of that.
We drove back mostly the way had travelled to this particular beach. This time though it was much later in the day, heading in the opposite direction, I became aware of many more things that had escaped my attention earlier on.
We passed by denser zones and clusters of buildings where I could see various shops, food outlets, restaurants and varying vendors, all brightly lit up now as the daylight was fading. I saw incredibly tall metal poles with blazing, glowing lights illuminating the surrounds with a warm yellowy orange glow making it still easy to see. Electric lighting will never cease to amaze me. Yes dear reader, I can experience a sense of wonder and joy at simple things, even beyond the act of slaughter and soul draining. Would it astonish you that I like flowers? Such strange lifeforms that had developed aromas they use as a method of propagation. Delightful.
Anyway… we shortly crested the hill that we had previous ascended westwards earlier on the way to the beach and I then saw it!
I was awestruck once again.
Towering edifices, glittering, shining buildings monstrously higher than Hagia Sophia was, the most immense human made structure in the world when I was last in it. These glistening towers of glass, metal and stone made that church look like a feeble children’s toy. I could see over a dozen of these buildings of varying size, clustered together in less than a square mile.
The Magus glanced to his left and saw me gaping at them.
“They’re called Sky Scrapers Meridiana. They’re generally office buildings, places of business where people daily work in their wage-slave jobs then go home at night. The buildings are left vacant but light up at night as you can clearly see.”
I turned and gawped at him.
“They’re empty at night?”
I could not comprehend why such space, that had amazing views, would be left empty of an evening?
“Yep. Well most of them are. There will be some that still have people in them, conducting various types of business overnight because its what they do for a living.”
“What do they do?” I asked in a murmur as I turned back to see the vista be obscured by a large set of commercial and residential buildings that we were currently passing.
The Magus shrugged.
“They’ll be doing all sorts of things, financial trading, working back late to do their jobs… various affairs of commerce and such. It’s not that important really Meridiana. I’ll take you into the city another day when we have time for you to be a tourist. Now, if I may, I want to know more about your Telekinesis. I got an idea of how much you can lift, probably over 1400 kilograms at least if my guess as to how much a warhorse in armour with a rider would weigh… maybe more? Probably more but we’ll test that later. Anyway, it’s your fine control skills I’m interested in.”
I turned back to the Magus who was looking ahead, driving us through the busy traffic that had become a factor. I later learned that it was a time of day called ‘rush hour’.
“I am capable of very delicate manipulation with my Telekinesis, especially in regards to the erotic arts,” I said to him with a husky, low, salacious purr.
“That’s cute but I really want to know if you could snatch out of the air and control a very small, fast moving bouncing ball, say the size of your thumbnail?” he asked in an offhand manner as he slowed down due to the traffic which was banking up in front of us.
I inwardly sighed once more. Such a challenge he was!
“Yes I can but why?”
He briefly turned to me and broadly grinned before returning his attention to driving.
“There’s a game that we will ‘play’ after dinner. It is called Roulette. The game features a spinning wheel with thirty seven little slots. Into the spinning wheel a little white ball is spun in and circles around, eventually slowing and bouncing into once of the numbered slots. The slots are alternately coloured red or black and all are numbered from 00 to 36. You can bet where the ball will land, either in red or black and specifically in a numbered slot. If the ball lands in a slot you bet on, you get a payout of thirty seven to one. Ever dollar you bet wins you 37 back. You can also just bet on which colour the ball will land in giving you your money back plus it’s value as a reward. Bet $100, you get your $100 back plus another $100.”
“Dollar... that’s money right?” I said as the implications slowly dawned on me. You could make a fortune from this!
“Yes Meridiana. Dollars are what we use as currency these days. Gold is still used but not in the way you were used to. It’s still valuable as are other precious metals but that’s going to take a long explanation which is a distraction for now. So, do you think you could perhaps catch the bouncing ball with your power, directing it into the number we bet on?”
I thought about it for a few moments.
“I will have to see how the ball moves but I think I could, yes.”
“Excellent. You stand to make us a lot of money tonight. There are other games like card games, slot machines which I’m uncertain that your powers would be able to mess with. Roulette is our hunting ground. We must be careful though.”
“Why?”
I was surprised by his tone of caution. We were power incarnate! What could possibly touch us?
“Casinos hate losing money. Roulette is going to be the hardest one they can prove that we’re cheating on if you use your Telekinesis. We will be closely watched the entire time we are in the casino. There are devices called cameras, similar to Crystal Balls, that observe everything they see, relaying the images back to people in other rooms whose task it is to spot potential cheaters in the casino. They also have people walking the floor, disguised as ordinary folk, always watching everyone else. And I want to avoid the eyes of any infernal beings who may be in the casino.”
“Ahh… I see… a healthy paranoia then, for them and us hmm?”
He nodded once, emphatically.
If you have a fortune, you need to protect it, especially from people like me. His caution in regards to our identity was also most prudent and he was correct that there was a possibility that there may be others of my ilk lurking in the shadows, walking in human form as we often do.
I have to confess dear reader, that I am a master thief as well as an expert assassin, in addition to being an accomplished warrior although I rarely fight in hand to hand combat, preferring seduction, subterfuge and skulduggery as my main methods of killing. Yet still, I can fight and kill extremely proficiently with many weapons, being skilled at one of the highest levels of melee combat, the use of weapons and ways of fighting with them. I’ve been around a while you know? You pick up on things like that if you wish to live as long as I have.
Besides… stabby, stabby, stabby, bash, slash and smite can be loads of fun when you’re doing the stabbing and bashing with a well-balanced blade or mace in your hands. But I digress…
“You have it Meridiana. Yes the casinos’ management are extremely paranoid. We will have to alter our appearance as well before we enter the casino. I shall use a minor low level spell while you can take a new face. We will do so after dinner.”
I nodded then a thought came to me. I asked,
“You said we were going to something called a buffet? I know what the word means as my abilities allow me to understand any spoken language, much like the enchantment known as Tongues. Yet I’m finding it hard to match the word with the concept.”
The Magus raised an eyebrow in interest at this revelation.
“Oh right. Just because you know a word doesn’t mean you automatically understanding it conceptually and in context either. Good to know. Well, a buffet is an enormous array of various foods, hot and cold, sweet to savoury, where you merely help yourself and consume as much as you wish. You pay for the privilege of course.”
“Truly? How much will this cost you?” I inquired wide eyed.
I noticed that we had moved through the traffic and had turned down a descending road and were now going into a massive concrete tunnel along with hundreds of other cars, all slowly moving in the same direction. It was quite honestly astounding that everyone was not smashing into one another. All the drivers were…well mostly were, attentive to their immediate surrounds and situation as we gradually merged our car into the main lane of traffic which was making its way under the earth via the huge yawning tunnel ahead.
Such staggering feats of engineering and construction which would have made the Emperor Justinian weep copious, bitter tears of pure envy. Oh how I wished I could make him see this and realise his idiotic boast was pointless when he finished Hagia Sophia. He bragged that he had surpassed Solomon himself with his church. He had but it wasn’t worth it. Justinian nearly bankrupted the Eastern Roman Empire, all for a useless church and his own vanity.
Moron.
Still, I shouldn’t care, his hubris ended up sending him to hell anyway so... yay! His actions also exacerbated the effects of the famine and plague that swept the through the empire and western Europe in the year 535 with his stupid desire to re-unify the Roman empire under his rule. You will be pleased to know dear reader, that he is burning in eternal torment for his multitude of sins so it is all good. My thoughts of deceased, vainglorious emperors and their fate were interrupted as the Magus spoke again,
“Hmm? … it should set us back about $80 each I’d should say? A small price to pay in all honesty when you see what is on offer. Drinks will be on top of that price, unless you just have plain water but tonight Meridiana, I shall introduce you to Champagne, one of humanities greatest achievements.”
This was enticing to hear!
“If you say so Magus. I completely believe you as you will not be lying to me,” I said, nodding and trying to think about Champagne.
So many new concepts were entering my mind, it was hard to keep my mind and thoughts in order. I understood that Champagne was a special type of wine, one which had a fizz embodied within it, making it highly regarded but that’s all I could deduce for now.
Also… I had a thought: the Magus could and would never lie to me. The feeling I had earlier, in being able to trust everything he said to me because of the oath he gave to me, was an unfettering sensation.
All my existence I have dealt with bare faced lairs, deceivers, misshapers of the truth who twisted words to suit their own selfish ends. With the Magus, all I had to be concerned with was his agenda, which actually had my interests aligned with his own. Truly remarkable.
I needed that champagne now!
We emerged from the tunnel, traveling with the traffic over wide dark river, again on another immense concrete bridge this time. There was a gigantic colosseum off to our right, all lit up with multiple coloured lights that ran around the circumference of the structure. It was like as though it was enveloped in a rainbow. Frankly, it was amazing to behold.
Beyond that, I could see many more large towers and structures, lining the sides of the vast road we were hurtling along now. The Magus had increased our speed as traffic had thinned out. Never in my life had I moved so fast, well unless I was using a Haste spell to briefly increase my physical speed, which I use in combat if necessary.
I barely had the sense we were travelling in the car at roughly 80kph. Such an odd experience to have for the first time. There was no rushing of wind, no press of air on my face, just comfort and air-conditioning. Marvellous!
After a few minutes later I saw our destination.
Again I was nearly stupefied by the gigantic structure. Multiple massive buildings, all surrounded by lush green, well-manicured and maintained gardens made my jaw go slack with disbelief.
“That’s Crown Casino, Towers and hotel Meridiana. I can see you are impressed. Let me just say that if you think this is amazing, wait until we go to Las Vegas…” he said as he turned the car into the driveway of the complex.
“There’s even more impressive structures than this?”
My mind boggled dear reader. It was almost too much to take in.
“Yep. My city is a small one compared to others around the globe. We will travel to them, in due course. I know you can use your powers of Dimensional Walking, moving through other planes of reality and appearing on a different part of the planet. However, there will be times when we will need to travel together conventionally. Perhaps one day, if I learn the right spells, we will be able to avoid having to fly in an aeroplane and by-pass the utter tediousness of baggage check-ins, airport security and so on…” he muttered darkly.
“HUMANS CAN FLY!?!” I said in a loud strangled astonished voice.
The Magus chuckled with genuine amusement.
“Think back Meridiana. I said humanity has been to the moon and back. I said we can travel safely and comfortably in a machine, called an aircraft, across the planet. Some ‘planes are huge while others are not much bigger than the car. Oh, that reminds me, we will have to construct an identity for you. We will begin that process tomorrow. You are going to need a passport soon enough,” he said as he found a relatively unoccupied parking area west of the massive structures.
He saw my puzzled expression and mistook it for wondering why we had parked here.
“It’s free to park here and there are hardly any security cameras in the vicinity.”
I nodded dumbly.
“But of course Magus…”
He saw my expression as he switched off the engine. A tiny look of… sympathy appeared on his face. He spoke to me in a soft, calm, soothing tone,
“Take a breath Meridiana. Close your eyes and focus upon the stillness within the vehicle. You are safe here with me. Nothing will harm us. Just breathe and relax, let each breath calm you. With every breath you are at peace within yourself and the world around you.”
I did as he said and instantly sensed my whirling mind begin to centre itself, become still.
I may be an ancient and powerful demon dear reader, however I have been imprisoned for nigh on a thousand years and now have been released into a world that I was unable to recognise at all.
The Magus later told me I was suffering from a psychological malady called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yes dear reader, even us demons can get mentally fucked up. I mean, compared to the average human, we’re all demented, tormented psychopaths which explains a lot about ourselves but still… even a psychopath can suffer from mental trauma. Demons can go insane.
I breathed rhythmically, each exhaling breath calming me. With one final exhalation, I opened my eyes, turned to my Magus and softly smiled at him.
“Thank you,” was all I said. I meant it.
He nodded briefly, his intensely burning eyes boring into mine, deeply searching, looking for signs of any madness that may still be lingering within. Well, there’s always the hunger for sex and mayhem, but that’s natural for me.
“Come on, you look fine now, let’s go,” he said as he got out of the car.
I followed his example, releasing my seat belt and stepping out of the car. Closing the car door behind me, walked over to the Magus then I threaded my right arm around his left as we walked off like a normal couple, casually strolling through the car park towards the casino and hotel.
I could hear the noise of all the adjacent traffic all still travelling busily along the massive road that went past the enormous complex. There was the calls of various birds I’d never heard before, the waft of scented flowering plants and the heavy aroma of moisture in the air from the nearby river. I closed my eyes for a second just to let it all wash over me as I sedately walked along with my Magus.
Soon we came to the entrance. Huge dark glass doors magically opened for us upon our arrival. To my right I could see various coloured signage, advertising the types of ‘fast food’ eateries that people could choose to dine at. They were all brightly lit and mostly clean.
It was at that moment I saw my first wretch.
A dishevelled, unkempt, shabby man sat listless outside the fast food eateries upon the low stone wall that contained a small, well-kept garden. He looked up at us as we approached, his eyes full of misery and despair.
“Got any spare change?”
“Sorry mate, no one carries cash anymore,” lied my Magus to him with a conciliatory voice, a sad but brief compassionate smile appeared briefly on his face.
The wretched man’s face became even more resigned. He nodded back in understanding, returning his fallen face back to morosely contemplating the ground at his feet.
We kept walking, leaving the broken man behind us.
I was about to congratulate the Magus in his treatment of the beggar when I had to stop as I was confronted by an incredible sight.
Before us, in the huge well-lit lobby of the building, was a huge pair of MOVING METAL STAIRCASES!
One staircase ascended while another came down from the landing some 50 feet above us. On either side were normal, marble clad stairs that some people were using. Yet many other people were on the moving metal stairs, all just taking the experience of being raised or lowered completely for granted.
“It’s just an escalator Meridiana. A simple machine that makes life a little more comfortable. Take it, go for a ride. I’m taking the stairs as I need the incidental exercise,” he said to me as he pried my clutching hands from his arm. I had been unconsciously gripping him tightly in my amazement at seeing such a machine.
The Magus walked off to the left, climbing the steps briskly while I gingerly walked forwards, watching the metal stairs endless appear and ascend upwards. The hand rail also moved in synchronicity with the metal stairs. I observed as a pair of young women, chatting intently to each other, walked past me and up to stand upon a metal stair which was part of dozens of metal stairs it seemed. I saw them be lifted by the moving stairs, rising above and away from me.
Summoning my courage, I stepped forwards onto a moving stair, wobbled slightly as I was not used to the speed which it moved, making me grab the moving banister tightly to steady myself as I rode my way upwards. I let out a small laugh as it was such a novel experience. The young women in front of me turned around at my laugh, raising their eyebrows at me as well as actually truly seeing me for the first time. Their smiles faded as I grinned back at them.
The young women could see my infinitely superior beauty on full display. They looked hesitant, now uncertain of themselves as they mistakenly believed themselves to be beautiful. They were, passible, not ugly but not worthy of a harem to be perfectly honest. I later learned dear reader that many foolish young women, especially in what you call the western world, regard themselves as queens, rating themselves ten out of ten on a scale of dazzling good looks. These sad women are delusional. I mean, if they were that beautiful, why weren’t their faces on the covers of the glossy magazines I see in various ‘supermarket’ check outs? No matter, vanity and hubris are all ways to damnation and misery. So many people sending themselves to eternal torment simply because they were raised by idiotic parents who never properly taught their children the need for humility. It’s all win-win for the pits you know…
My Magus met me at the top of the stairs, holding out his hand to me and then leading me through the vast interior of the complex.
“That’s the casino,” he indicated to our right.
Looking, I could see dozens of people making their way inside into the brightly lit and noisy interior of the casino. I caught the whiff of desperation, despair, avarice, lust, elation and a strong aroma of human urine. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Yes, even I have some standards dear reader.
“Magus, why does it reek of piss?” I asked as we strolled by and proceeded into the most immense, glass covered atrium I have ever seen.
“Oh, you can smell that?” He looked intrigued.
I nodded with a mild look of disgust.
“Hah… interesting. Well… some gamblers get stuck on a poker machine. They sit there for hours, desperately hoping that the machine they are playing on will pay out. The poor fools stupidly believe that if they play at the machine long enough, they’ll win big. So they stay seated, ignoring the need to relieve their bodily urges, to the extent that they prefer to piss themselves rather than abandon the machine that is draining away their money. The poor fools are incapable of understanding that the machine is designed to rarely pay out. Every time they play, it has a simple algorithm that calculates the chance of a payout. Most machines will payout a small amount of money occasionally, thus keeping the gambler hooked in the mistaken belief that the big one is just around the corner. It rarely, if ever, is.”
I stopped, stunned at what I just heard. The Magus stopped and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s… diabolically genius!” I stuttered as I considered the fiendish brilliance of the whole concept.
Someone had made hell on earth not only possible but also could make a fortune from it as well as breaking people’s souls and spirits in the process! The concept of dangling hope in front of a damned soul, then snatching it away was one of the oldest known tortures of hell. This was a magnificent, a culmination of the perfection of thousands upon thousands of years of the torture, all neatly packaged in a fairly simple machine designed to beggar it’s user and turn them into slaves to it. Gobsmacking was the only word I could think off that fully encapsulated the way I felt at that moment.
“Yes it is, isn’t it? I have always suspected that those machines were most likely invented by a demon. It makes perfect sense,” he said as he shrugged, then tilted his head, indicating we should proceed onwards.
I noddled dumbly as again, I had been totally overwhelmed by the latest piece of information the Magus informed of. I barely registered the hundreds of people all wandering around the massive lobby of the hotel atrium. Many were dressed finely while others, mostly men, were dressed casually. My Magus was one of them, still wearing his novelty T-shirt and hemp pants. They were clean though and his shoes, a brand known as Babuuk, made him look somehow better dressed then the other men who were similarly attired. Maybe it was just his subtle aurora of power, his sheer confidence and his towering Will that made him stand out from the mouth breathers all around us? I guess it was.
We arrived at the entrance of the restaurant and the Magus was greeted was a short Asian woman, dressed neatly in the hotels livery.
I started to realise that there were people of so many different races of humanity all around us. I had come from a time where only what was left of the Eastern Roman Empire was this diverse, and even then it was but a shadow of the heyday of the full glory that was Rome. Here were people from almost all the lands of earth, all happily co-mingling, getting on with having dinner with family and friends. Very surprising indeed.
The Asian woman at the reception counter spoke to us with a friendly smile,
“Good evening sir, madam. A table for two for you then?” she asked politely, her voice tinged with a broad accent I had not heard before. She spoke English yet I could tell that wasn’t her first language.
“Yes please,” politely replied the Magus.
This was something I did not expect. Despite his and my obvious power, he was respectful and even kind to the servants. All of them. He didn’t condescend nor sneer down at the servants of the hotel. It is still something I have difficulty reconciling. I said nothing, just observed. Oh, he has since instructed me not to call them servants, they are members of staff and will be treated with respect until they show they do not deserve it, then they are fair game. I can live with that.
“Table seventy one is ready for you both, have a lovely evening.”
She actually meant it! I could see it in her eyes, she was truly enjoying her task. She was smiling and joking with her fellow staff members, politely greeting the next people behind us with her cheerful friendly demeanour.
Astonishing.
In my prior experiences, servants and slaves were a miserable lot but then again, that was understandable. They had no choice as to their circumstances. They had to obey lest they suffer harsh punishment.
As we proceeded into the large dining room, with over a hundred tables of varying sizes, I could see off to my left where the food was.
I stopped again and stared dear reader.
I have been to banquets with Emperors and Kings, Popes and Princes, all sumptuous feasts but nothing was like what I saw before me. Dozens upon dozens of people had plates in their hands, all calmly wandering around the incredible cornucopia of varieties of food that were on display, all brightly lit up for them to simply help themselves to as much as their plate could hold.
Roasted meats, all neatly carved by expert chefs, freshly shucked oysters all seated in enormous silver ice-filled serving bowls, trays upon trays of cooked vegetables of kinds I had never seen before and… a dazzling array of sweet desserts and treats that made me almost go weak at the knees at the very sight of them.
“Come on Meridiana, you’re starting to drool,” whispered the Magus gently into my ear as he dabbed my wet lips with a soft piece of paper that he withdrew from his pants pockets.
Once again I nodded dumbly as I allowed him to escort me to our table. He even seated me, pushing me and my chair in one I had sat down. After he had taken his seat, a young man, quite a handsome one from the Indus I believed?... came over to us, again dressed in the livery of the hotel.
“Good evening, sir, madam. Would you care for something to drink?” he inquired ever so politely.
“And good evening to you sir. Yes indeed, may we please have a bottle of Verve Clicquot, two glasses and a bottle of San Pellegrino sparkling water?” he asked with a real smile to the servant… no member of staff.
“Of course sir, I shall get that for you immediately,” replied the waiter with a pleased smile at being spoken to so politely.
“Thank you,” said the Magus then he turned to me and asked,
“Do you need a moment Meridiana? I understand this might trigger you again…”
I shook my head.
“No. It is overwhelming… but in a good way Magus. I have to ask, how can a place like this provide so many people with so much food? Even in the height of the Empire, there were magnificent feasts to be sure but… you say this happens everyday, that this is just a Tuesday and not a busy night?”
He nodded.
“This is the age of abundance Meridiana. Many of us, who live in what is known as The West, have dwelt in an age of such wealth and richness that almost all here never think on their incredible luck and privilege to live in such times. They do not know that it will come to an end. Maybe that is a small mercy. All golden ages end as you well know. So I say, let them dwell in ignorant bliss for now. We can enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Huh? Why do you believe that your golden age will end Magus?”
“It’s a long explanation and one I do not wish to go into detail here and now Meridiana but later, I will share my thoughts with you on this. Ahh, here comes our champagne.”
The waiter and another staff member had returned, with one carrying two bottles while the other had a metal bucket partially filled with ice. The waiter from the Indus placed both bottles on our table, displayed the label to the Magus who briefly nodded. Then, the waiter removed the cork from the bottle with an adroit twist of his writ. It made a pleasing pop and I could see a little haze of cold… smoke? lightly emanate from the neck of the bottle. He poured the brightly bubbling and fizzing wine into both our glasses, carefully making sure the foam did not overflow them. He was very good at his task.
“Thank you good sir,” said my Magus to the waiter who beamed back at him with a happy smile. He placed the bottle into the bucket of ice and withdrew, leaving us alone, amidst the crowed dinning room.
The Magus took up his glass, holding it in front of him. I mirrored him.
“Here’s to a good dinner with interesting company and later, ripping the shit out of a casino Meridiana.” He pushed his glass gently forwards, lightly clinking it against mine. I wasn’t familiar at the time with that form of salute and toast but went with it anyway, after all… when in Rome as they used to say.
“That sounds… delightful Magus. I am eager for it all.”
I then took a sip of my champagne and was transported into a realm of heavenly bliss.
It was exquisite.

I really enjoy creating fantasy worlds, I have been working on a large scale fantasy realm with tons and tons of lore, after finishing the main chunk of the lore I decided to begin writing a short story set in a smaller part of my fantasy world. I wrote a short intro and one chapter, I'm not that proficient at writing so I decided I should share the first part of this story just to see if others found it interesting enough to continue reading. if people do not like it I'm going to continue working on another story and have another crack at writing This one further down the line.
please criticize me as much as possible. Thanks
​
Weaving through the heart of a dense forest, the screeching clanks of metal plates brushing against one another disturb the piece of this serene paradise. On an overgrown misused trail just outside the city walls in the midst of the forest a chase ensues, two unfit uncoordinated city guards jumping and pushing through the bush against a elusive figure wearing light clothes dodging and weaving through the branches, gracefully outrunning the guards as if this figure knows exactly were each broken branch lays, were each root sticks out. The outcome of this chase is certain this hooded figure is not being caught, until… in one turn the tides of the chase change as the figure slips and tumbles out of the edge of the forest onto a road. There they lay unconscious.
Chapter 1: Evading execution
With their feet scraping on the rough concrete floor trailing down the dark hallways of the stone dungeon, with only the dim sway of the lamp fire illuminating the path. “I new we would catch ya” the guard grunted as he could barely drag the unconscious body along the ground, “ are you going to help me with this guy or what”, “well if I'm elpin’ you carrying him, how am i gonna carry the lamp'' the second guard argues. '' For the gods sake you can..hmmf.. you know what nevermind, just open the door. The guard throws the body into the dark cell and slams the door, the body lays there suspended on the ground in the path of a beam of moonlight slithering in through the cell windows.
When they come too, the mysterious person is greeted by a figure sitting slouched in the corner with his shoulder just in the path of light. “Well, I guess we’re cell mates now. “So what's your name?” the prisoner asks in a deep, croaky voice. “Adran, my name's Adran”. The hooded figure replies, looking up towards the prisoner to see the silhouette of a large man. Said man shits his head into the moonlight revealing him to be a red skinned dragonborn. Adran is surprised at what he sees, as dragon born are not common around here. “You’re dragonborn,” said Adran in astonishment. “It doesn't matter what I am, my head will be gone soon enough… and so will yours”. Adran is stunned “what do you mean, we're just serving sentences aren't we?”, he asks desperately. The dragonborn shifts towards adran. Scooting along the wall towards him. Adran backs into the corner, scared. Unless you want to escape, our heads are as good as gone.
Down the dimly lit hall and to the right is a room situated right under the main court, inside the pyromancer is hard at work and his bench he mixes deep green liquids with dark goop, he mixes fingernails and gunpowder into a large cauldrons, in cauldron drowns a dark substance swirling and swashing, boiling and bubbling. The old man takes a single vial of it out and lays it in a tray, he steps back and drags his hand back, his hands glowing red hot and he directs a single ember towards vile. In a n instant the room is filled with black smoke. “Perfect” the man shouts. As he leaves the room the candle right outside catches his attention, the flame has died, whilst relighting the dim candle he forgets to lock the door and he walks away.
DING, DING, DING… The sound of the bell tower rings through the city, the sun shines high without a single cloud in the sky. The cell fills with sunlight bouncing around the walls. Adran awakes, recalling the day before, hastily he wakes his scaly roommate whose eyes open wide with terror. Adran suggests” the bells have rung, that means it is midday right?”. “No.. no Adran three bells on a sunny day mean an execution is about to begin” before he can continue the jingling sound of keys being crammed into a door rings throughout the cell, four prison guards burst in to grab the two men dragging them down the hall. The dragonborn man wriggles and pushes trying to free himself, adran watches as his kicking Knocks down a pole with a candle attached, the pole pouches through the unlocked door it was stationed outside off and it falls to the ground. The guards regain their grip and carry the two men away. The candle landing still on the floor hovers over a rag the flame drips down to catch the flame alight.
In the beautiful, bustling town centers a ground gathers eagerly around the center where the executioner awaits, a large bulking man sits sharpening a towering golden bronze War Axe. Adran and his friend are carried in between the citizens towards the chopping block when adrans eyes lock with the executioner, his eyes show his intent to kill. To the side underneath a traders booth is a dungeon grade that leads down into the pyromancer's lair to allow the fires he forges to breath. Adrans head is called to the block first, forcefully he is knocked down to his knees and held there by the guards, his head lying to the side he notices a strange woman atop a nearby building, he is dressed in dark attire and looks dangerous. Underneath the merchant's booth unaware to the guards who are all watching the execution the pyromancer's equipment has completely lit on fire. A tale of fire sliding along the bench like a snake approaches the vate of black liquid, just like a serpent attacking its prey , the fire lunges at the substance. Kaboom, a loud bang followed by a ghastly woosh follows the black smock erupting from the depth into the street, the execution is cut short. Adran and the dragonborn free themselves from the guards grip and attract there captures, the lady on the building, backs up, then sprints of the rooftop landing with her knee in guards face, she pulls a knife and single handedly disposes of the guards, before the smoke clears he grabs the two men and the trio rush of down an alleyway. When the smoke fades the citizens are left in shock as the prisoners are gone and the golden protectors lay dead on the floor.

For most of my life I’ve lived in the suburbs of a major city. Three years ago, I moved into the city to be closer to my law school. I decided to keep my car parked at a train station parking lot in the suburb where I used to live so I wouldn’t have to pay the higher insurance rate. I paid a monthly fee to do this. I only drove my car in the suburbs. I have never driven it the city since I bought it. Almost a year ago the owner of the nail salon that I have been going to every two weeks for the last five years overheard me discussing where I parked my car and told me it was ridiculous to pay a monthly fee when I could just park it in the salon’s lot for free. I asked her if she was sure and she said yes because they have more spaces than they need. I gave the insurance company a heads up about the car’s new location and I thought that was the end of it.
Everything was fine until tonight when I got a call from the owner saying she got a letter from my insurance company that was addressed to me. She opened it and saw that the insurance company had attached the business address to my insurance policy. I told her I had no idea they had done that (because I didn’t) and I would correct it immediately. I was under the impression that giving the address where the car was parked was more of an fyi for the insurance company as a opposed to something so official. She then went on about the liability she would face as a business owner for being recorded as the garage address. This was just a simple favor that has now turned into something complicated. Should I just move the car back to the train station lot?

As of September 2022, I have been residing at my local job corps, this post is more of a ranting discussion, But don't mistake this post for me just sh***ing on job corps. The program has helped me, but just barely. I will not disclose which job corps as it is in the city I live in.
First of all, I think my Job Corps is extremely corrupt and incompetent, for instance, (and I dont know if I i should mention this for my own safety but im going to), weed everywhere and when people are caught by staff, most of them are like, "keep that sh** on the low." And as an ex-user it has been extremely difficult for me to not give in and accept offers. (This does not mean I have given in) Everyone knows I'll never ACTUALLY snitch, but they think they need to "test" or "initiate" me. And I'm constantly trying to avoid two of my biggest weaknesses; peer pressure and Mary Jane.
Also, I have repeatedly made reports against being discriminated for my disabilities, the people I've made the reports against never got terminated or never received a minor infraction. Hell even staff has been aggressively discriminatory against me and the higher ups haven't done anything.
Next thing, I was in the culinary voc, this class was super long, I was in culinary for about 5 months and only got to 4%. And the instructor is extremely lazy, only chooses favorite students to teach and even then doesn't teach them well, and doesn't do ANYTHING for students he doesn't like, he only didn't like me because i had communication issues on first few first impressions, and didn't like taking the time to explain anything to me if i didn't understand, he gives the student leaders a plan for the week and updates E-TAR, but if you ask him for help or advice, he'll tell you to ask the inexperienced leaders, and on multiple occasions they didn't know the answers and told me to go to the instructor, creating this never ending loop of frustration. When I brought this to the vocational manager, she told him about it, and I got a HUGE lecture from him, he was telling me that i was the lazy one and wouldn't do anything in class, like wtf dude your always in your office how would you even know? And then the vocational manager was on my ass for false reporting my so called "Instructor". After this incident I switched to another voc, and I'm not enjoying it, and I they will not let me switch again. Problem being this vocation would take me 6 months to complete, ONLY IF full time and working at an extremely fast pace. They won't let me take it full time because they want a higher score on my TABE and want me to study in HS classes for it.
I have gotten my GED since I've been here and will be getting into Drivers ED late April, two months before my 18th birthday. Thing is I will be needing the $1,200 for full completion. But I don't want to be here a full year to completea voc. I'm stressed out, have a bad rep for being special needs. On top of that, I've picked up smoking cigarettes, something I said I'd never do. I've been swooned into sexual activity (ngl partially my fault and I'll admit I did give consent), I've been attacked by an insane person who was obsessed with serial killers and expressed cannibalistic interests. (They were terminated and arrested, but got off Scott free even though I said I was pressing charges)
I cannot co-exist in a household with my mother as she is not a healthy person to live with. I do have a place to stay after I leave, with my grandmother, but my mom will not let my stay with her until I'm 18 so self terming early is out of the question, going through the steps to get amencapated is pretty much useless since by the time everything went through, i'd most likely be 18 anyway. And again I need that 1,200 so I can afford a cheap car as my town does not have a lot of means of transportation.
Also, alot of staff is extremely insensitive to mental disabilities. And they like to pick favorite students.
Now before I give out this detail, keep the paragraph above in mind. I have acquired 4 minor infractions in the last sixty days for very stupid reasons, mostly because others have pushed me to the point where I get pissed off at the way I'm treated. I'll admit getting pissed off, walking away cussing and screaming isn't appropriate, but when I'm clearly having trouble and want to be alone, staff shouldn't follow me and confront me, that's looking for an issue. Then once I tell them to leave me alone they take me to security, and report me? That's not cool, and I'm extremely open with everyone that I am a high-functional autistic teen. Teens get mood swings and I can't think too well under pressure, and here? Constantly under pressure, I cannot even have a normal conversation without social awkwardness unless it's some of my friends in the dorm, even then I feel somewhat judged but, that comes with, "hanging with the dudes" and I accept that.
All in all I'm just looking for advice and opinions. I don't know what other centers are like but I'm clearly in one of the worst ones.
Idk I don't want to make this too long but I'm actually interested in what others from different centers have to say about my experience so far.

It's the First of April. Thats all I will say.
________________________________________
The New Hope
Vance was tired, he had been on the run all day long. What had looked to be another boring routine survey mission into a simple uncharted binary star system had turned out to be quite a bit more.
Stopping for a quick breather, Vance pulled out his hydroflask and took a long pull of the lukewarm water. It might have been a bit stale, but to him it tasted sweet as cherry soda. The hydroflask sealed with a pop as he replaced it on his belt. It would slowly draw moisture from the air and condense it inside, refilling over time.
Good thing too, this planet seemed to be a never-ending desert. Everywhere he turned to look the relentless twin suns beat down on his thick grey fur, causing him to pant heavily as he tried to cool himself down futilely.
Vance was Yeown, a member race of the Sapient Congressional Union. He stood just under two meters tall though his shoulders were hunched and his long arms were held at a low ready by his sides. His slightly werewolf-like features were currently scrunched into a scowl as he surveyed the surrounding landscape, trying to determine what his next move should be.
That's when he saw it, on the horizon, smoke. Smoke meant fire, and as so often was the case, fire often meant people and civilization.
A destination in sight and a goal in mind, he was now feeling much better about his situation. Vance took a few minutes of walking along the endless dunes to once more marvel on his situation. The fact that he was able to breath without his constricting environmental suit was a miracle. Naturally habitable planets were rare, not so rare as to be nonexistent, but rare enough that his chance stumbling blindly across one was likely a once in a lifetime experience. Well, once in a lifetime if he didn't find shelter was a near guarantee.
His people had evolved on a cooler, more temperate world. The Yeown homeworld of Bright Moon was a temperate world with large polar regions and thick evergreen forests that covered much of the planet’s surface. This relentless heat was slowly but surely killing him. If he didn't find a place to cool off in the next few hours he was likely to suffer heat exhaustion and die.
Vance shivered at the thought. His mummified remains would be lost to the endless sands of this cruel desert. He looked forwards again, the smoke did in fact seem closer now that he really scrutinized it. He grinned, pointed carnivore teeth bared in a terrible grimace. Any non-herbivore species able to see him at that moment would likely have had a fit, his bestial features less sapient in appearance than most other known races.
While this did not frequently bother him, it had on occasion caused some small disturbance to other member races. In particular dimwitted humans.
He snarled quietly, the SCU had only made contact with his people forty years in the past. Plenty of time for the other member races of the Union to become acquainted, but they hadn't. It seemed that many of them harbored an instinctive mistrust towards the Yeown. Whether it was born of ancestral fear or prejudice meant little to Vance, it was wrong. There were even whisperings of succession in some of the more extreme circles.
It would never happen though. The Union was truly vast, thousands of inhabited worlds spanning thousands of light years and with a population numbering in the hundreds of quadrillions of sapient beings. There was no realistic way that their tiny population of a few billion could hope to stand up to the might of quadrillions.
He put thoughts of rebellion out of his head, the Union wasn't some tyrannical galactic empire after all, they did seem to have the best interests of their citizens in mind. ‘Most of the time.’ He thought silently, bitterness reentering his thoughts in spite of himself.
The smoke drew steadily closer, thoughts of what kind of strange people might inhabit such a desolate world caused his mind to enter a tizzy. From what he knew of desert creatures they tended towards the more insectoid or reptilian. Mammals were a rare sight on such worlds, would they accept him as a sapient being? What if they tried to kill him?
Dark thoughts of murder and cannibalism entered his mind unbidden. Such creatures existed across the Union, Flesh tearers and the other psychotic bloodthirsty pirates that frequented the less populated regions of the galaxy. Was it possible that the indigenous people of this world would be the same?
His ship had not detected radio signals before he had mysteriously lost power. Only by switching to his secondary generator had he been able to prevent himself from becoming a glassed crater in the planet’s surface, barely. His ship had suffered catastrophic damage in the landing and he had decided to try and scout out the area.
Thats where he had made his first mistake, he had oriented himself towards the morning sun and started off, but soon after the first had risen then another sun had made its presence known in the ever-brightening sky. His compass had been useless and his trail had been obscured by fresh blown sand. Soon he had found himself hopelessly lost.
With no landmarks to follow and two suns causing him to confuse the direction he had come from, he had started to lose all hope of making it off the planet alive. But then he had seen the smoke, like a beacon it inspired hope in his chest.
He took another large panting breath before taking a moment to rest in a shallow hollow. He cocked his head as he spotted the first life he had yet seen on the planet, a small scraggly bush, barely alive by the looks of it. Its wood was covered in gnarls and grey twigs, knobby and blistered by uncountable days of exposure to the harsh elements.
Still, where there was life there was water, that was a good sign as he was drinking from his hydroflask faster than it seemed to be able to replenish
He took another deep shuddering breath, his break had done nothing but drawn attention to his aching muscles and sore joints. Walking for hours through the soft sand had turned his legs to jelly and his feet to raw meat. His large clawed paw-like feet generally had no problems with the terrain, but the hot sand had slowly begun to scour the softer flesh between his toes. While he wasn't bleeding yet, the flesh was raw and tender, he knew that he would have to clean them soon so as to prevent potential infections.
Vance had received a universal inoculation when he had turned the age of twelve, but while it was essentially an immune booster it was not a cureall. One could still get sick, the inoculation simply boosted the natural strength of his immune system. The result was near human levels of disease resistance but at the cost of becoming quite tired while fighting off an infection.
As Vance crested the next rise he froze, the cause of the smoke was now directly in front of him. The low rolling sand dunes gave way to an expanse of flattened earth, less sandy, more dusty.
In the middle of this flattened land was a large sunken pit of some sort and a low hut-like structure. The hut was the cause of the smoke, the structure charred and covered in strange marks.
Vance hunkered down, all thoughts of his sore muscles and raw feet forgotten as he observed the scene. It looked like the aftermath of a war zone, a high-tech warzone at that. The strange marks resolving themselves into some sort of burns like those made by energy weapons.
He swore loudly, then immediately snapped his mouth closed. Whatever or whoever had caused the damage might still be nearby, and from the looks of the place they would likely not have his best interests in mind either.
He waited a full ten minutes but no enemies appeared, he looked around and then swore quietly “Frine’s furred ass…” He needed a place to shelter and he couldn't wait any longer. Dangerous or not, the chance of death was better than certain death, and so he found himself moving towards the low round building. His body held low as he used his arms and legs to creep forwards.
He reached the side of the building and stopped, a new smell reached his strong senses. After nothing but the hot slightly metallic smell of the dunes and his gear, it was a bit of a surprise to smell something different. He smelled burnt flesh, the smell making his mouth water slightly. He had not had fresh meat for months, subsisting off the dried and freeze dried rations he was provided with by the company.
His stomach growled involuntarily and he swiped his tongue over his lips. He had a bad feeling that what he was about to find might not be a delicious home cooked meal though.
Sure enough as soon as he crept around to the front of the building he recoiled. In front of the door were the charred remains of two creatures, strangely familiar but unrecognizable due to the damage.
He looked closer despite his disgust, the creatures looked far too familiar, two legs and arms. A body shape similar to that of a human, but that was not too surprising he surmised. More than one of the Union member races seemed to take after that appearance, humanoid as the humans called it. And of course they would, they named everything after themselves the selfish hairless packbreakers.
Vance snorted, trying to get the smell out of his nostrils as he slunk by into the building itself. The building was larger than he had at first supposed. The doorway turned out to be a set of stairs that led underground in the direction of the large pit he had observed earlier. ‘They must be a burrowing race.’ He thought idly as he descended into the structure.
Indeed as he reached the bottom of the stairs it opened up into a small house built almost entirely underground. Though one of the rooms seemed lit, it must connect to the large open pit. The room was scorched, the look of a fire that must have raged out of control.
Even with the oppressive smell of charr and soot it was cooler than the surface. He located what looked like the remains of a stool and wiped it off before sitting. He gave a long sigh before taking another long swig from his hydroflask. It felt good to be sitting, his aching muscles and feet groaned in protest as he tried to regain his strength.
After a few minutes his breathing had slowed and he was feeling much more comfortable. He flexed his feet, he needed to find something to wash them with, he looked around. He couldn't see any obvious means of water storage. The planet was hot, hot and dry. But surely the local life drank water, or at least knew of its existence.
He stood, wincing slightly as his sore feet protested, the sand between his toes a constant sting. He limped over to the far wall and moved a few charred items off a nearby shelf. Nothing of use it seemed, then he stopped. He looked at the end of the counter before moving quickly towards a large box at the end of the counter, it looked like.
“Yes!” He said triumphantly. It had been some sort of refrigerator.
It seemed that whatever damage had been done to its exterior was entirely superficial as the inside lit up dimly with a soft bluish glow as he opened it. He grabbed for the large container of clear liquid on the uppermost shelf.
He was about to take a deep drink when his common sense stopped him. He had no idea what the liquid was, it could have been almost anything, so he pulled out a small analysis tool from his belt. Generally the small device was used to assay rocks and other samples brought onboard by his probes, but it should do just as well identifying the basic elements of the liquid.
Placing a small drop from the jug inside, he turned the device on and waited as it whirred softly. After about a minute it made a series of low beeps. Checking the display he smiled, hydrogen and oxygen bonded into di-hydrogen monoxide molecules, more commonly known as water.
He took a tentative taste, the cool clean water taking away the dull scratchiness in his mouth. He took another swallow, this one deeper and more satisfying. Sighing contentedly he looked into the small cooling unit again, there were some other items of interest, not the least of which was a small wrapped package of what appeared to be some meat-like substance.
While he wasn't hungry per-se, his instinctual craving for thick juicy chunks of meat was trying to get the better of him. He paused and then growled deep from his chest. There was no way he would pass up the opportunity if it was remotely safe to eat, and so he pulled out the protein analyzer from one of his vest pouches. While similar to the analysis tool, it would instead check the compounds of the product and check for incompatibilities. If none were expressly detected then it was in all likelihood compatible with his system. While he wasn't capable of the incredible culinary feats of humans who seemed to be capable of eating almost anything they could fit in their mouths, he could digest a wide variety of proteins and fats from many worlds he was not native to.
This ability made him confident that he would be able to eat the morsel without incident, though it was always better safe than sorry. He waited an irritating three minutes before the small device gave a chime and flashed green. That was a good sign, checking the screen on the analyzer it told him what he had hoped to see. What he had was a foreign foodstuff that seemed perfectly compatible with his biology, that was a little odd. Generally a food safe to eat from an alternate world would be at least partially incompatible with his digestion, but this seemed like it had been made specifically for him.
Shrugging at this turn of good fortune he grabbed the fist sized package and sat once more at the sooty stool. Unwrapping the meat fully he was hit with a delicious smell, like sweet and briny at the same time. He pulled out his survival knife and used it to carve off a chunk of the meat before taking a bite.
Immediately his mouth exploded with the flavors of the exotic flesh, it was tender and soft, hints of sweetness and a deep salty undertone that satisfied his cravings like nothing he had ever yet tasted before. It was like some cross of sea creature and cultured livestock, it was in all parts delicious. Vance found himself chowing down on the strange feast, before he knew it the meat was gone, his mouth still watering from the abundance of flavors.
He sat back on the stool, back pressed against one of the earthen walls and gave a sigh. He felt content. He felt a comfortable sleep threaten to overtake him and so sat up and then stood. There was still far too much to do before he could allow himself that luxury. He took the water jug and slowly poured a small measure of the precious liquid over his feet, taking care to maximize its usefulness in case he was unable to find more. After a minute of this he felt comfortable enough to take another look around.
He moved around the room, checking the walls and furniture for other potentially useful items, nothing jumped out at him explicitly but he kept at it. As he finished the common area he moved into some of the adjoining rooms but they all looked the same. Charred and with pieces of broken furniture lying in smoldering piles all around. Before he knew it he stepped out into the open air once more, but it was shaded. He looked around curiously, it seemed to be some sort of sunken courtyard.
Along the walls were what looked like some sort of long boxes connected to the metal walls with pipes and wires, he moved closer and saw that many had small green shoots and fronds inside. So this must be some sort of farm then he mused to himself. In the center of the area was a tall machine of some sort, tubes and small vanes covered its entire surface and he stepped close to it. His sensitive pointed ears swiveled slightly to better pick up faint sounds and he smiled again as he heard the distinct sound of liquid moving through the smaller pipes.
This must be some sort of atmospheric condenser, they were relatively common on dry desert planets but to see one on an uncharted and alien world was a shock. These people must be somewhat advanced to have electricity and condensers. Maybe if they had such technology they had a faster way of moving across the dunes. Some sort of buggy or skiff.
Vance looked around, well, it likely wasn't down in the pit, making up his mind he walked back into the underground house and made his way back to the kitchen area. Looking around for a moment he walked to the water jug he had left on the blackened countertop. Taking another drink from his hydroflask he poured out the small amount of water that remained and then refilled it with the much cleaner purified water from the jug. Now at least he would be able to drink it without tasting the inside of the micro condensers from his hydroflask.
He gathered all his gear and gave the darkened room one last look, nothing caught his immediate attention so he left, walking up the long staircase to the surface. He stepped around the two charred corpses at the front of the structure again and looked round. The area around the dwelling was clat and mostly clear, though about fifty meters away he spotted what looked like another tall condenser. Next to it was a small pile of boxes and crates, it was the only thing in sight that might hold something of interest so he started towards it.
As Vance reached the small pile he cocked his head, something went scampering from the cracks between the crates, a small creature that seemed to hop on two legs. It stopped a few meters from him and he looked at it intently. It was no bigger than a Znot, in fact, other than missing the extra limbs, it seemed remarkably similar. It had tan wrinkly skin that blended into the surrounding dirt and a long nose that it brushed a few times as he watched. It must have been some sort of small rodent equivalent native to this world. As he looked at the small critter It gave a small series of squeaks and scurried away, its tail disappearing back into the large pile of boxes.
He gave a small chuckle, it seemed like a harmless enough animal. As he walked around the boxes he stopped, on the far side previously out of sight sat some sort of contraption. The strange machine seemed to hover on some sort of antigravity cushion, as he approached and pushed on it it moved slightly but stayed remarkably stable. He gave it a look over, its purpose started to become clear to him the more he looked. It was long and thin, with a series of tubes and machinery along the bottom. The middle of the device had a saddle-like seat behind a pair of handlebars attached to a pair of long vaned tubes that jutted from the front. It almost looked like some sort of wheelless motorcycle, a popular type of vehicle frequently used in the more rural parts of the Union that he frequented.
He shrugged and climbed on, the seat was a little uncomfortable as it seemed designed for a smaller species, but it would be fine. He found the control stirrups and placed his feet in them. He gripped the handlebars tightly and kicked back on the pedals. The machine made a series of coughing noises and then returned to its seemingly inert status. It was still hovering however so it must still have been working.
Vance looked around and found a small switch on the body under the handles. He shrugged and flicked it, the machine seemed to whirr slightly but nothing else changed. Once more he pushed back on the pedals and gasped as the vehicle leapt forwards with an acceleration that threatened to tear the breath from his lungs. He eased off the pedals and the device slowed to a more manageable speed. He experimented with the handles and turned to the left, the vanes seemed to catch the air and the hovering vehicle made a neat left hand turn.
He smiled wide as the air rushed by his ears, the wind cooling him and weakening the oppressive heat of the planet. “What a way to travel," he chuckled to himself.
Getting the hang of the device took only minutes, after he had determined he understood the mechanics of the device he returned to the crate and dismounted, making sure to flick off the powerswitch lest the thing take off without him. That would put him firmly back to square one again.
He quickly checked the boxes, many of them were empty, a few held bits of machinery that he didn't know the purpose of. The last one he checked seemed to have some sort of mechanical device inside, it looked like a robot of some sort. Short and squat with a pair of wheeled legs on its sides. Its dome-like top was painted red and white and seemed to house a series of sensors and hatches. It appeared inactive and so he closed the top, not wanting to mess with something that he didn't know the purpose of. While he suspected it wasn't a device designed for destruction, there was no way of knowing and so it was better left untouched.
Vance climbed back onto the hovering bike, the hoverbike as he was starting to call it in his head, he flicked it back on and sat still. He had a means of transportation, but he had no destination. Which way would he go? He thought about heading back towards his ship but then thought better of it, there wasn't much of a point in going back to it anyways. It was done for, damaged beyond repair. Besides, from what he had seen of the area on the way over there was no life out in the dunes. He moved towards one of the high dunes on the opposite side of the place, stopping at the top he squinted and looked around. In the far distance he could make out what looked like a series of rocks. It was as good a place as any he figured, making a mental note of which direction he had come from he zoomed off towards the distant landmark.
If he considered the rotation of the planet and the rising of the suns being to the East as was common, then the direction he was heading was roughly north. He liked his odds of finding something north, it must cool down at least a little the further he traveled from the equatorial zones of the planet at the very least.
Vance reached the rocks in less than ten minutes, the same distance would have likely taken him hours to walk but he put it out of his mind. Signs of life were all around, small lizard-like creatures scattered into the rocks as he approached and he could see small shrub-like plants all around.
The planet wasn't as dead as it had initially looked he surmised, just the vast deserts lacked life. Here among the rocks more conventional life seemed to exist.
Vance slowed for a bit, taking his time as he wound his way through a series of canyons and deep clefts in the rock. At one point he thought he heard the sound of someone yelling, but it faded too fast for him to get a bead on its location.
The eeriness of the planet combined with his total lack of knowledge on what dangers may lay around the corner made his progress slower than it needed to be. He wished he had a weapon, a pistol, a stick, anything. Sure his retractable claws would put the hurt on anything that might come at him but he had no idea what he might be up against. The feeling of not being the top of the food chain sat ill with him, his hackles rose, the collar of fur longer and shaggier near the back of his neck. It had evolved that way to protect the neck from being an easily exploitable weak spot.
He heard a strange wailing noise, at first he thought it was some terrible beast and he froze. But as he listened closer it had the unmistakable undertone of a turbojet fan spinning rapidly. As the thought passed through his mind he exited the narrow canyon he had been traversing and he gasped. The land stretched out in front of him, kilometers and kilometers of open flat rock, and in the distance a settlement or some type. He could make out dozens of structures and a few larger circular buildings whose use he wasn't sure of. It looked to be several kilometers away, not a problem with his new mode of transportation.
High overhead he saw the unmistakable silhouette of a ship leaving the planet, if they had the ability to leave the planet then why had they never been contacted by the Union before? He shook his head and then zoomed towards the small town.
He reached it in minutes, slowing to a walking speed as he saw the main entrance point to the small town appeared guarded. He approached the entry slowly, unsure as to what he should do. He was obviously not the same species as the two white armoured soldiers manning the checkpoint, they looked humanoid in shape whereas he was much taller and lankier. His arms longer and his back hunched.
Another thought entered his mind just as he floated up to the two soldiers, how would he communicate? He racked his brains furiously as he tried to think of a solution, he waved at the two soldiers as they walked over and then nodded in a polite manner. He would just have to pretend to understand and hope nothing made them attack.
He nearly jerked himself off the hoverbike in shock as the first soldier walked over and asked in perfect unaccented common “Identification?”
He had to stop himself from stuttering, the words frozen in his mind at this strange new discovery.
The other soldier, this one with an orange shoulder pad, walked over and asked “Is there a problem here?”
Vance shook his furred head and dug out his ident card, there was no reason it should work but hey, stranger things had happened. He handed the ident card to the first soldier with a muttered “My apologies.”
The soldier seemed to scrutinize the card before looking at him, the featureless black eye lenses of the white helmet only deepening the feelings of paranoia he was feeling at the moment. The soldier turned to his superior and spoke “It's not a form I am familiar with, sir.”
The other soldier took the card and looked at it before handing it back to the trooper “It looks like a match to me. You know how these backworlds are. Let them through.”
Handing the card back the first soldier waved him through saying “Move along.”
Vance did so without another word, tucking his ident card away. He was in disbelief, that had worked? What were the odds? He stopped and took a second to compose himself before his jaw dropped again.
All around him were strange wonders and marvels. Aliens of almost every description wandered to and fro in the streets, strange hovering contraptions moved down the thoroughfares and large almost lizard-like creatures lowed at street corners where small vendors seemed to be hawking wares. He saw strange furred beasts with great horns pulling hovering carts, and a multitude of what seemed to be robots all around. He shivered at the thought of them, artificial intelligence was abhorrent.
It was a most incredible sight and for several minutes he marveled. His examination was cut short as a small hooded figure approached and started speaking at him. This time he was unable to understand the words and shook his head.
“I'm sorry I don't understand. What do you want?” he asked the diminutive creature. He couldn't make out its appearance under the heavy hooded robe it wore, but he could just make out a pair of shiny orange eyes. It seemed to become agitated at his remark and shouted again, his time drawing the attention of several passers by.
The creature made one final scathing alien remark before marching off. Several of the onlookers snickered, likely understanding the insults he had blindly weathered. He growled in a predatory manner and most of them hurried away. While he was not large for a male of his kind, he was much larger than most of these puny creatures.
He started along the street once more, he needed to find a place to get information. A message board, an information kiosk, anything. He shook his head once more, this entire experience had been surreal. The journey feeling more like some crazed dream sequence more so than an actual real series of events.
Many of the aliens he saw looked disturbingly human, several even looked slightly like the slaaveth, though with some minor differences. What was this place, where had he stumbled into? He racked his brains for everything he knew about this region of space. All he could come up with though was that it was near Drivil and uncharted, about three hundred light years past the coreworlds border. An area of space generally referred to as the great frontier.
Suddenly he stopped. He looked again to his right, there across the street next to a pile of wreckage sat another of those strange hovering contraptions. This one a dusty red in color, but that was not what had captured his keen eye. No, next to the hovering vehicle was a low building with the unmistakable look of a bar to it.
He smiled, an alien bar, well, if it was like anything else he had come across it might in fact be more familiar than anything else he had encountered so far. Hopefully they spoke common in there as well. He made his way across the street and then flicked off the hoverbike before dismounting. He looked left and right but saw no way of securing it.
“Oh well.” he said quietly to himself as he walked towards the door of the building. It wasn't like the thing had belonged to him anyways. Maybe it would be there when he came out, probably not. He would just have to cross that stream when he got to it.
Vance walked to the door which opened automatically at his presence, he was immediately hit with a wall of smoky smells and funky noises. A catchy tune that made his long narrow tail twitch in tune and made him want to bob his head. He smiled, his wide grin glinting as the light met his long canines. This seemed just like his kind of place.
He sidled up to the bar top, one of the other patrons giving him a long look. He nodded to the strange green alien and then asked the bartender, a disturbingly human looking alien wearing a tan shirt.
They looked him up and down and asked “Yeah? What will it be?”
Vance frowned slightly and then replied “Information.”
The man seemed to tense and said “That isn't something I generally serve here, a dangerous commodity that is.”
Vance sighed and then replied “Ok then, answer me one question then if you would?” The man nodded slowly. “How does one book passage off this planet? Is there a spaceport I could go through or…” but was cut off as the man waved around the room.
“Off world? Anyone can get you offworld, for the right price. I'm sure if you ask around you might find something suitable, now please, order a drink or leave me alone.” and the man scurried to the far side of the bar.
The strange interaction sat ill with him. He looked around the room, the many patrons of the bar laughing and drinking. Several tables appeared to have various types of gambling or betting going on at them. He smirked, the more things changed the more they seemed to stay the same he supposed.
He jerked as movement met the corner of his eye, turning his head he saw a man waving to him from across the building. He cocked his head and the man seemed to pause. They nodded and then waved him over again. Shrugging he wandered over, he had nothing better to do at the moment after all.
The man was leaning against the wall nearest to the door, his white undershirt and black vest doing nothing to cover the dangerous looking pistol strapped to his side.
Vance cautiously stopped in front of the man. “Hello there, I’m sorry but I couldn't help but overhear you are looking for passage offworld?”
Vance nodded and asked “Yes, you have excellent hearing. Er, I must apologize that I am a bit lost here. Where am I?”
The man smiled charmingly and patted his shoulder while gesturing towards the door. “You are in precisely the right place my friend. I happen to have the fastest ship in the galaxy, where are you headed?”
Vance shook his head and said “Somewhere else, I would like to get back to the Union. But I'll settle for somewhere cooler if that's a start.” he said with a chuckle.
The man nodded and said “Well, that's a good start I suppose. You are able to pay of course?” he asked seriously as they exited the building.
Ah yes of course, money. Vance kicked himself mentally, he had his entire last paycheck in Osmir in one of his pouches. He hated using credit chips, he always felt that his money didn't even exist while using them, he liked to be able to hold it in his hand. Cash was always much more graciously accepted in the frontier where he worked too.
He reached into his money purse and pulled out a handful of Osmir. He handed a few to the man and said “All I have is Union Osmir, would that be acceptable?”
The man looked at the small handful of coins and asked “I suppose, it's not Imperial credits after all. But what is it worth?”
Vance pointed to a few of the coins and rattled of their values “Well, that is a ten credit Osmir, that one is fifty credits and the last one with the largest fleck is a one hundred credit Osmir. I have a few Osmiridium ingots on me. Should be worth a few thousand credits. Would that be adequate?” he said with a bit of a head bob.
The man smiled and held one of the coins up to the light “Osmiridium huh? Yeah I think we can help each other. The name is Han by the way.”
“Hello Han, I'm Vance.” he replied.
“My ship is in bay ninety four, want to meet me there?” Han said to him.
Vance shook his head and said “I don't know where bay ninety four is, are you going that way now? I could follow you there perhaps?”
Han smiled again and looked him up and down saying “Yeah. I think you should be fine to tag along Vance. Follow me then.”
Vance nodded and fell in alongside Han, they walked along the side roads for a few minutes, neither of them seeing a reason to speak until Han steered him towards one of the large circular structures he had seen from the city outskirts. There was a series of alien symbols on the door that he couldn't read but Han smiled and made a gesture. “Here we are, bay ninety four.”
Vance walked inside and frowned as he saw what looked to be a pile of scrap in the rough shape of a starship. A design he was wholly unfamiliar with. “What is that?” he asked, unable to keep a bit of the shock from his voice.
“That?” Han asked. “That's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs, friend. And time is money as they say. Please welcome yourself aboard the Millennium Falcon.”
Vance looked at the ship, its rough features giving him pause. His trained eye soon looked deeper though, under the scrap and grime he began to see it, the lines of a ship designed for power.
He stood for a moment longer and then turned to Han. the man asked “Well? What do you think?”
Vance gave Han a wide toothy grin as a new hope began to form in his mind and said “I think it's perfect.”
​
==End of Transmission==

So why an RPI Stonks Report, RPI Stonks Analyst? Glad you asked!
Following a recent comment I made on another thread, I was DM'd with a lot of questions regarding the details of my findings, about who my sources were. We decided later on to do a brief report of the RPI MUD landscape, and that I would pen it. Players and even a couple staffers from different games were solicited to get an idea of where things are at. This is the result.
This isn't intended to be dramatic or to single out bad actors in the RPI community. This is intended to inform potential players, let them know where's worth playing at the moment, and also to possibly inform open-minded staffing teams where their shortcomings and public perception are at.
I don't personally play every RPI, but I know a couple people who travel around. If you've played even one, you know that literally no one has time to play more than like two. Please don't ask me to come play in some specific area or at some specific time. This is an overview, not a detailed analysis.
Further, we aren't here to debate our findings. These are our findings, drama-free. Take them or leave them.
Harshlands:
Harshlands is hard to criticize. It knows what it wants to be and it mostly achieves it. This is a somewhat relaxed, realistic experience in a fantasy world is what you're looking for when you log into Harshlands. No buildings will explode, there won't be many world-shaking events or extraordinary levels of fantasy, and the PCs you saw there last year you'll still often see this year.
That's not to say nobody dies. They do, and often in spectacular ways, but players mostly did something wild or risky for that to happen. No one killed you for looking at them funny, minding your own business, or just because they like to shit on people beneath them over on Harshlands. But you make the wrong turn or take some risks and it'll get dangerous in a hurry. It's very well balanced in this way.
The community is welcoming and positive. The game is centered around 2-ish condensed play areas that are generally well-populated enough to find interaction most hours. The emoting system is intuitive enough in that you can just emote with anything but slapping some (parenthesis) on your emote along with it. Without getting into it, the only struggle for most will be their somewhat convoluted payday system, with multiple somewhat-OOC currencies.
The world is detailed if slightly divided between a lot of different faiths in particular, but in general they can all coexist without feeling forced to avoid one another or murder each other in the streets. It's well-balanced, well-detailed, and pretty easy to pick up.
Harshlands is steady. It's not the sexiest. But if you wanna play a knight, laborer, lord, whore, priest, or peasant, you can do that and get your fix here without OOC drama or staff going out of their way to poison the experience. It's clean in the way almost no RPIs are and they probably deserve some kinda award for that. But in the same breath, it doesn't feel like it's really aspiring to anything more. A larger playerbase would almost not work, and might in that case just feel too crowded for what it is: slightly lower-key roleplaying fun with conflict, danger, drama, and immersion.
I get the feeling Harshlands is happy being just that, and when I get the itch to play there, it fulfills what I'd like from it. I have almost no complaints.
SUMMARY: If it's your thing, Harshlands honestly does it and does it well. What you expect from an RPI is here and it generally is and will always be in a healthier state than anywhere else we poke our heads into.
Armageddon:
Armageddon's a drama factory and almost always has been, but the recent volcanic eruption was exceptional even for them. Sexual harassment allegations, staff power abuse, resignations, vast policy changes, and a general exodus of formerly-leading players have hit them, but it's still breathing.
To Arm's credit, an outside view definitely sees a great deal of effort being put into a turnaround after the game looked like it was on life support for a few weeks. Insiders' views are mixed. Many are tired of the infighting. There's a contingent of embittered former players constantly trying to rip the place down and they probably won't knock it off, but it's maybe important to mention also that it was past administrative failures that spawned them. In this way, Armageddon has earned its reputation. People have stories about the abuse suffered on Arm and while some of them are overdramatized by the retellers, some are legit and might always remain open wounds. This old warrior's got a lot of scars it'll just always be carrying around. Ancient fuckups will always hound them, and so will the most recent.
Still, I read the lore sometimes and say, this really is one of the most vivid and well-formed worlds. When I log in myself once in awhile, I see beautifully described items and NPCs. One of my sources occasionally links me the food taste descriptions and it's absolutely insane the amount of detail that's been put into this old ass MUD. Despite its flaws, the game's history and the love that's been put into it in areas is undeniable.
But it's also a fucking mess. There's too many clans, too many tribes, too many play areas and too much in the lore that makes PCs struggle to interact with one another. Their two main play areas don't have a bulk of players enough to make it come to life. According to two separate sources in each city, they can log in, walk around during peak hours and find not a single PC.
Quote from an Older Player:

"It's a game designed for 50+ players but has half that and not enough were in either city enough to fill them out even before the recent crash."

Quote from a Newer Player:

"If you run into almost any other PC, there's some odd reason in documentation why you shouldn't interact with them, why you should shun them, why you should hate them or what they're wearing or where they're from or what the fuck ever. It's to the point where it harms playability and interaction. You're supposed to just grunt and glare at everyone who's not just a regular human because there's ten reasons why the game says you shouldn't interact with them otherwise."

I feel these quotes are related. But, moving on.
Armageddon has a strange culture compared to most RPIs. In ways, they're older and more conservative. Resistance to change has always been a presence that's kept the game from advancing and it's easy to see why. There are a lot of pet projects that have possibly detracted from the play experience, and there are divisions in the playerbase that seem difficult to heal. People tell me the roleplaying is great when it's had, but that there's a constant naysaying against the idea of any possible improvement, and in a way it feels like it's holding Armageddon back from the modern world. The whole game feels old in this way, clawing back against any possible changes, even when the experience of playing it is fresh and new.
Illustrating this, Armageddon still uses email, a browser-based request tool they reportedly have no developer for, a Discord channel, and a discussion forum that's mirrored by another discussion forum explicitly for discussion without oppressive censorship; half the playerbase hates the other half of the playerbase for using it, but they all go over there to read it word for word themselves to get angry. The age of Armageddon shows.
So in terms of its administrative systems, it's a fucking dinosaur way behind the times and the community all hates each other, but in terms of world detail and in-game content even when one's alone, Armageddon's actually still way ahead of the pack. One could honestly play ArmageddonMUD single-player and have a good time, immersing at the taste of food, the sights and sounds of its environment, the stylish clothes, killer weapons, and so on without running into another PC. That's also just not why we play RPIs, but it's still a unique and remarkable strength.
Armageddon's playerbase isn't critically low at this stage but it's struggling, maybe all the moreso because that playerbase is scattered all over their admittedly well-described and interesting world. But a lot of them are there looking for interaction and simply can't find it.
SUMMARY: Armageddon has unique and interesting strengths, but a lot of problems they are visibly trying to work on - including an aged culture that struggles against change. The community's a drama machine. It's hard to recommend right now but there's unprecedented effort going into a turnaround. They're underpopulated, but the engine that makes the place tick is still there and the things people like about the world are still present.
Apocalypse:
Apocalypse is the newest kid on the RPI block and its genesis is a little odd. It's being built off the skeleton of ArmageddonMUD from 10 years ago but modernized administratively and pushed further in the direction of its Dark Sun origins. For this reason, it's almost impossible not to compare to ArmageddonMUD. It's its own world built on the same game, if slightly more outdated at the start. That said, I prefer to judge it on its own merits whenever able.
Nonetheless, there no email on Apocalypse, no browser-based request tool, and no discussion forum, let alone any second discussion forum. It's all Discord and organized - in my view - pretty well. In terms of administrative systems, it feels sleek, modern, and more responsive by comparison to any other RPI I've played. Well done, Apocalypse.
That said, the whole place is really obviously still under construction. Some of the crafts are barren, only one of the populated areas feels even near-complete, and documentation/lore feels really sparse. Much about the world remains a question mark when you're within it and playing. That said, much of it's to be expected. It's new and new stuff is going in every day, from code to items to wildlife and wilderness. Just expect some dust and the sound of hammers in the background, likely for a good while. Maybe for forever. But they're keeping a good pace and should be commended for it.
However, its DIKU origins it's built on are ancient and thus it's got a lot of ancient problems. Players can't just make their own crafts/tattoos/etc like on say, Sindome, The Free Zone, or The Inquisition. They can't just change their own descs or sdescs. Instead, all of that takes staff work, and a lot of it. Part of me feels like if they were going to build this world, they could have used something better for a starting point. Instead, it has a lot of the old unsolvable issues that Armageddon will always have, but without the decades worth of building work that it takes to fill out a place like that.
That said, improvement there is constant and visible, staffing work is transparent, staff responses are fast, attitudes around the community are positive and the the place feels upbeat and welcoming. They generally understand they're on the frontier of something new. Meanwhile, their numbers rival Armageddon's at any hour and reportedly, the play areas are better populated so it's easier to find interaction.
Speaking of interaction, Apocalypse has pulled back on the lever of being awkwardly forced to hate everyone you come across that in our opinion plagues Armageddon. I think this is a substantial and simple improvement that functions well in the context of the size of their expected playerbase.
SUMMARY: Apocalypse has a lot of work to do to fill out their world and truly compare to the old beast they spawned from. They'll also share in some of the same problems Armageddon has, even if they do everything right. Their administrative systems are top notch and the game feels young in terms of positivity, improvements, and forward-moving thought. The staff and the playerbase have a refreshing willingness to enact change and improvements compared to older platforms.
We'll do Sindome, Haven, and possibly TI next time. There is no expected date.

Hi there! I've recently come to realize I have had a hard time making connections with others relationships in the past, and I often feel like I have a hard time being on the same "wavelength" as other people if that somehow makes sense. I've dealt with some mental health stuff for several years now, and for a variety of things I've been diagnosed with I'd definitely describe myself in the ND range, and I have recently learned I might likely be on the ASD spectrum and will be getting an official test and into some sort of program ASAP. For this reason, I'd like to find a partner who also would describe themselves as being in the ND range. I've noticed when I talk to others who identify that way, I tend to be able to talk much more easily and I feel like we "get" each other and are on the same metaphorical "wavelength" I mentioned earlier.
So, with that out of the way, allow me to introduce myself! I am 5'6", Pisces, leftist, and a vegetarian. I can be a bit shy at first, but whenever I'm comfortable with someone I will gush nonstop about whatever thing I'm passionate about or obsessed with at the moment! My hobbies and interests include anime, manga, video games (especially anything Nintendo, JRPGs, or retro stuff), pro wrestling, skateboarding (I am at the skatepark constantly trying to improve), working out/running, theme parks, animation of all-sorts, podcasts, tokusatsu, and eccentric people, places, and events. I have been studying Japanese for a couple of years now and I've been working really hard towards my goal of becoming fluent someday. I practice for roughly a couple of hours every day trying to improve my vocabulary, reading ability, and kanji. I've been trying to do some writing recently in an attempt to start a blog. I have a goofy cat who has very eccentric behaviors and I love him more than anything even if he's very needy. ;P This is what I look like. (check the punctuation, making sure people read my post ;P) If you've made it this far, and think we'd click, feel free to send a message! Tell me your dream location to travel to, but rather than just a general city or country, some specific attraction, location, or landmark you want to visit!

Hi there! I've recently come to realize I have had a hard time making connections with others relationships in the past, and I often feel like I have a hard time being on the same "wavelength" as other people if that somehow makes sense. I've dealt with some mental health stuff for several years now, and for a variety of things I've been diagnosed with I'd definitely describe myself in the ND range, and I have recently learned I might likely be on the ASD spectrum and will be getting an official test and into some sort of program ASAP. For this reason, I'd like to find a partner who also would describe themselves as being in the ND range. I've noticed when I talk to others who identify that way, I tend to be able to talk much more easily and I feel like we "get" each other and are on the same metaphorical "wavelength" I mentioned earlier.
So, with that out of the way, allow me to introduce myself! I am 5'6", Pisces, leftist, and a vegetarian. I can be a bit shy at first, but whenever I'm comfortable with someone I will gush nonstop about whatever thing I'm passionate about or obsessed with at the moment! My hobbies and interests include anime, manga, video games (especially anything Nintendo, JRPGs, or retro stuff), pro wrestling, skateboarding (I am at the skatepark constantly trying to improve), working out/running, theme parks, animation of all-sorts, podcasts, tokusatsu, and eccentric people, places, and events. I have been studying Japanese for a couple of years now and I've been working really hard towards my goal of becoming fluent someday. I practice for roughly a couple of hours every day trying to improve my vocabulary, reading ability, and kanji. I've been trying to do some writing recently in an attempt to start a blog. I have a goofy cat who has very eccentric behaviors and I love him more than anything even if he's very needy. ;P This is what I look like. (check the punctuation, making sure people read my post ;P) If you've made it this far, and think we'd click, feel free to send a message! Tell me your dream location to travel to, but rather than just a general city or country, some specific attraction, location, or landmark you want to visit!

---
Winters on Garden brought with it a calmness that set over the frigid waters of the Peribean Sea. Though the ship was steady, my stomach churned with rising anticipation. The dense Tari wood surrounding me groaned with every buffeting of the ocean winds as the strong currents pushed us along. I sat against the hull, legs pulled tight to my chest as the night grew colder and colder. I shivered as I placed my hands over my mouth, breathing on them in an attempt to regain some feeling. Though we were all shoulder to shoulder on the gun deck, the icy air still siphoned out any heat our bodies gave off.
The mood was grim. Just days ago, we fled the port at Jetrid and sailed East, fleeing the destruction of the city. Our foe was…not of this world. Dark masses appeared in the sky and rained fire on the city with impunity. No weapon could touch them. Hundreds of thousands, if not more, were already dead, and there didn’t seem to be much hope of stopping them. There was a time when I believed that there was no enemy that couldn’t be torn to shreds by our canons. Now, the eighteen-pounder next to me seemed like little more than a useless hunk of iron.
I often wondered if this destruction was being carried out by the gods themselves. Perhaps we had strayed too far from the path the Founder had set for us. Maybe there would be no Earth for us. There was no other explanation for the destruction I witnessed.
I felt an itch in my throat before I burst into yet another coughing fit. I covered my mouth with my arms, stifling the hoarse wheezes grating in my throat. My chest burned as the fit finally ended.
“You gonna be okay, kid?” the crewman next to me asked.
I swallowed and nodded, never making eye contact with him. I generally avoided interactions with crewmen I didn’t know. There were hundreds of us on this ship, and not all among them were desirable characters.
I felt a nudge on my elbow. I looked over to see the man offering me a waterskin. I met his gaze, studying his expression. He was a middle-aged man with a short, black beard and dark skin. His head was shaved bald, reflecting some of the orange glow from the lanterns on the ceiling. He seemed to notice my unease. “It’s just water, luk.”
“T-thanks,” I said hoarsely, taking the waterskin from his hand. I took a swig, soothing my aching throat, and handed it back to him. “‘Luk’ means ‘brother’, right?”
The man looked over at me, smiling slightly. “Yes, but not in a familial sense. It’s a term of…” he gazed upward, thinking of the correct word. “Camaraderie, I figure. Do you speak Rendet?”
“I know some of the expressions. You actually aren’t the first on this ship to call me that.”
The man squinted at me. “How long have you been on this ship?”
I swallowed and cleared my scratchy throat before I replied. “Six years.”
He gazed down at me for a few moments. “You look hardly old enough to stomach a drink.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I was…orphaned after the raids on Cavan. The crew at the time took me in. And well,” I surveyed the faces surrounding me. “Not many of them remain.”
The man nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “What’s your name?”
“Cypress”
The man snickered. “The Earth trees that live through the winter.”
I nodded. “My parents were…devout.”
“Do you believe in the Founder’s teachings?”
“I…I want to.” I coughed for a moment. “We might all find out if Earth is real soon.”
He nodded. “Perhaps…But we must fight on until that time. I’d like to at least leave a scratch on one of those things before my time.” He smiled. “My name is Ogard.”
Suddenly, the screaming of an officer broke through the eerie silence. “Clear the decks! Enemy sighted to port! Clear the decks and prepare for battle!”
Everyone below deck shot up at once, and chaos ensued as everyone scrambled to their stations. Gun crews removed the divider walls to the officers’ quarters in the rear, freeing up space to man the guns positioned there. I hurried toward the stairs, filing in with a sea of crewmen as we rushed up the narrow steps. I looked back briefly, but Ogard was already lost among the clamoring gun crews. I took in a sharp breath, clearing my throat before I set foot on the top deck. I was immediately blasted by the frigid ocean winds. The suffocating darkness surrounding the ship was barely kept at bay by the dim lanterns scattered around the deck. The ringing of bells and gruff shouts of officers filled the air. I rushed toward my station but stopped in my tracks.
I looked over the port railing and saw something my mind could never replicate in my imagination. Some kilometers away, floating over the icy water, an incomprehensibly large hulk of metal loomed in the darkness. Its silhouette was only defined by the blue light of Garden’s twin moons quietly watching from above. It appeared triangular from this angle. White lights speckled the exterior of it, flickering in the distance. No watchman could have possibly missed this thing creeping over the horizon. It must have just appeared like the one that destroyed Jetrid.
Suddenly, a bright red light drowned out the light of the moons above, bathing the entire sea and sky in an ominous, crimson glow. My blood turned to ice as the entire crew went silent. The light beamed across the water, shining into the waves just a few hundred meters from our ship. Immense clouds of steam shot up from the water with explosive force as the water in that area began to boil and vaporize. Without warning, the light crawled over the water, and the beam cut our ship clean in half.
It was as though the light simply removed any part of the ship it touched from existence. A battle-tested, master-crafted warship was cleaved in two in just a fraction of a second. I saw the deck behind me disappear. The crewmen standing there were reduced to black clouds of ash drifting away in the wind. I had only enough time to process the terror on their faces before an explosion erupted from below, forcing the air from my lungs and sending me hurtling over the rails.
As I hit the water, my chest seemed to contract. Every muscle in my body clenched as the freezing water enveloped me, pulling every last ounce of heat from my body. My ears rang as my head breached the surface, and I took in a painful breath. I could hear the muffled wails of the crew around me as burning splinters of the hull scattered all around. I could see the two halves of the ship already beginning to sink into the inky depths as the masts toppled over.
Pain radiated through my whole body. I grunted as I summoned the strength to swim toward a piece of floating debris. I threw my upper body onto it and began hacking violently, struggling between each fit to catch my breath. I began to shiver uncontrollably as I lost all sensation in my limbs. I looked out at the horizon and saw the object still floating there in the distance. Blood ran down my face, mixed with salty water. My vision began to blur as pain swelled in my head.
At that moment, I’d accepted that this is where I would die. No weapon devised by mankind could so much as scratch such a horrific thing. Our race was doomed. It would only be a matter of time before these things annihilated every city on Garden. I only regretted that I never got to shoot back.
Suddenly, the ringing in my ears seemed to intensify, as did the pain threatening to tear through my skull. I held the sides of my head as I saw something begin to ascend into the sky on the horizon, far behind the object floating in the sky. It was an impossibly tall spire shaped like a needle, and it only seemed to get taller. Flowing streaks of white light outlined its shape, traveling up the edges in a mesmerizing pattern. I noticed another rising to the east, Then another two to the west. They were everywhere, appearing on the horizon in all directions. There were more than a dozen.
I felt the very ocean itself rumble as the water in the distance began to shift and stir. White foam outlined the shape of a giant vortex swirling about in the middle of the sea before a giant structure began to emerge from the waves. It slowly ascended into the air, revealing its metallic, rectangular form. A giant cylinder dominated the center of the bulky iron tower. It almost resembled a canon, with a barrel big enough to fit a small ship inside. I watched as it swiveled with surprising speed toward the demon floating in the distance, flinging massive spouts of seawater from the exterior in a giant arc.
The shouts and screams of the crew went silent as everything stood still for a moment. A deep, metallic thrum emanated from the structure, sending visible vibrations through the water that rattled my jaw. The sound began to rise in tone before a bright flash shot out from the end of the barrel, and a white streak of light pierced through the floating object in an instant. Moments later, a reverberating thud from the structure threatened to knock me off the floating debris entirely. A flash on the horizon lit up my entire surrounding as though dawn had arrived. I felt a wave of heat wash over my whole body that staved off the chill overtaking me, if only for a moment.
I watched in awe as the flash dissipated to reveal the bulwark on the horizon split into pieces and falling into the sea. Giant trails of fire streaked through the sky, fanning out from where the shadow once lurked. Never before had I seen so much destruction from a single weapon.
I looked around to see dozens of my crewmates either treading water or propped up on driftwood like myself. Their eyes were wide, and their mouths hung open. It was silent for a few moments before a single, raspy voice somewhere amidst the black waves shouted out.
“Yeeeeaaaahhhhh!!!”
Everyone erupted into a cheer.
My teeth chattered as I smiled wide, laughing to myself. I looked back to see the structure descending back into the water, sending up splashes of white foam as it submerged itself into the sea. I had no clue what had just happened, but whatever that was, it seemed to be on our side.
Suddenly, a series of bright, blue lights glowed from the tops of the spires, flickering like stars across the horizon. With a flash, a pale sheet of light connected between all of them, forming a translucent barrier in the sky above us. It was as though the sky was blanketed in a thin sheet of ice. I winced as my head began to ache even more. I pressed my hands to my head. It felt as though my skull might split open. I let out a weak scream before my body went limp. My vision went dark and my limbs seized up as I slid off of the plank, plunging into the icy water.
As I sank, panic began to set in. I struggled to move, but my body simply wouldn’t comply. The pressure of the cold water surrounding me grew as the surface inched further and further away. The ringing in my ears grew louder and louder as the pain in my head only intensified. I felt the heartbeat in my chest slow as my eyes closed and my struggle ceased.
My eyes fluttered open. They were immediately met with a bright, golden light that assaulted my vision. I could feel my back pressed against soft, warm ground. I shielded my face with my arm as I stirred. I rolled over onto my hands and knees, relieving my eyes from the intense light. My blurry vision began to adjust, and I saw blades of grass between my fingers. Green blades of grass. I gasped and shot to my feet. My body responded with ease. It was as though I was never sick.
My eyes adjusted further, and all around me, I could see tall, green-leafed trees swaying gently in the warm breeze. I could hear the chirping and buzzing of alien birds and insects all around. I looked up to see a vast, blue sky dotted with white, fluffy clouds. A bright, golden star shined high above, bathing me in pleasant warmth. My body seemed to be free of pain as I studied my limbs.
Green plants. Rich life. A golden star. This has to be Earth. Which means I’m…
I turned to see a tall evergreen looming on the side of a hill. The tree that lives on through winter. I walked toward it, letting the soft blades of grass brush against my skin. I placed a hand on the rough bark and exhaled.
In a better place.
In the blink of an eye, the entire setting around me changed. Green grass was replaced with black ash. The trees surrounding me were charred and twisted. The air was still and silent as all life around me vanished in an instant, replaced with nothing but husks and smoke. The bark beneath my hand turned to coal. I craned my neck upward to see the tall, twisted trunk stripped of all of its green needles. I stood shocked for a moment before turning around.
Down the hill in the distance, I saw brief flashes of light dotting a ruined landscape, mired in mud and standing puddles of water. The once vibrant sun was concealed behind a cloud of smog and dust. Blue and yellow streaks shot across the landscape in a flurry of color, kicking up dirt wherever they landed.
I felt an eerie sense of dread as I saw a dark shape looming in the dense smoke. A triangular, floating object, just like the one that had presumably killed me. A brilliant red light flared from the middle of the triangle as another beam shot out toward the muddy fields below. A cloud of fire erupted from the point of impact as a massive shockwave pushed the smoke and fog aside. I could do nothing but cower in terror as a wall of flames approached me.
Instead of immense heat, I felt nothing. It became so silent that I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears. I opened my eyes and saw the stars. My body was weightless, drifting through utter nothingness. I tried to breathe and instantly panicked. There was no air. I kicked and flailed around to little effect, clawing at my throat. As my body slowly rotated, my eyes were assaulted by a chaotic display of lights and explosions. I saw hundreds, maybe even thousands of the same triangular objects on one side and long, jagged hulks of steel on the other. An immense amount of projectiles shot back and forth between them. The massive behemoths moved impossibly fast, dancing around each other in sprawling formations as they unleashed hell on one another.
Behind all of it was a beautiful blue world, quietly spinning below all the chaos. Vast green continents and islands dotted the seas. My eyes were drawn away from the battle completely as a golden star began to set beyond the horizon far below me. Never in my life had I seen something so majestic. Sorrow ached in my heart to see fires crawling across the horizon in the shadow of dusk. From all around me at once, I heard a distorted, disembodied voice interrupted by shrill, garbled noises that made my head flare with pain.
“...Silver…Sands…Save…Humanity…”
My vision became distorted. The stars in the distance became wavy streaks as I felt the freezing water surrounding me. Out of the darkness, I saw a human hand reach out, and behind it, I saw Ogard’s desperate face emerging from the darkness. I lunged out with my arm, grabbing his tight before everything went black.
/////////////////////////////
My eyes fluttered open. I was greeted with the soft, azure glow of dawn. I could hear and feel a crackling flame close by. I stirred, but my limbs remained locked in place. I pinned my eyes downward and saw that I was wrapped tightly in a thick, white fabric. Possibly a piece of sail. I could feel light pressure from a cloth wrapped tightly around my head.
Two figures sat in the sand near the flame across from me, shivering slightly as they warmed their hands. I recognized Ogard on the right. His face was illuminated in a mixture of colors. Orange from the nearby fire and blue from Haven cresting the horizon. Next to him was another figure I recognized. Her deep brown hair was soaked and ragged as it hung over her pale skin. She wiped a pair of miraculously undamaged glasses on her sleeve before placing them back on the bridge of her nose. There was only one person onboard with glasses like that. It was Avina, the ship surgeon.
As I attempted to speak and get their attention, I got the impression that Avina might be the only reason I was still alive. Before I could say anything, the mere attempt to make noise sent me into a coughing fit. Regardless, I succeeded in getting their attention. Ogard rushed over, kneeling beside me.
“Cypress! Here.” He rolled me onto my side, allowing me to expel the fluid building up in my mouth. I hacked for a few more seconds and spit on the ground. My soaked black hair hung down from my face as I caught my breath.
Avina stood up. “Well, I’ll be damned. Guess the orphan kid is immortal.”
“Where…are we?” I asked through chattering teeth.
“We don’t know, luk. You’ve been out for a few hours. Here, drink.” Ogard propped me up and put a water skin to my mouth. After taking a few swigs, I looked over at Avina.
“Are they gone?”
Avina looked up at the ice-like barrier glistening high in the sky. “For now, I suppose.” She stared for a moment before looking back down. “We managed to find an intact boat in the wreckage, but…well, as you can see.” She pointed out toward the ocean. I turned around to see the stern of a row boat sticking out of the water between the rocky inlets. “It was full of holes. We barely made it to shore. We saw a few others make it out too, but we got separated in the darkness. We got lucky just finding this place.”
I observed the surrounding landscape. This seemed to be some kind of volcanic island. Judging by the sparseness of plant life, it was fairly active as well. A black, ashy mountain overshadowed us from further inland, with loosely clustered red plants and trees ascending its slope. A rocky beach stretched around the island in either direction.
Avina nodded toward the eerily silent volcano. “If we want food, we gotta climb.”
I nodded and stirred beneath the piece of sail. “Okay. I should be good in a minute. My head’s killing me; I had a really strange dream.”
---

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

Station 9 to 1711.
Mother fucker. I just want 10 fucking minutes. Give me that please, God. Just put a fresh dip in, opened one of the new “sugar free,” Monsters (different from the “lo-carb,” option,) and fired up a knock off game that’s similar to candy crush. Just parked in my favorite hideout too. Backed in, in between a couple school buses in my cities elementary school. NO one comes here during my shift, which is graveyard.
Spitting out my chew and taking a big swig of Monster, I ripped the mic off of its magnetic plate. Hesitating, closing my eyes, and clearing my head, I respond. Something about closing your eyes when you answer a call seems to make the response clearer. I don’t know, ask other cops. They should understand.

1. Go ahead.

10-90 at 1300 Roosevelt. Front door and basement motion. Any available county car for a back?
Great. My “me,” time got interrupted for a stupid home alarm. The burglar alarm business sure has made our lives hell, on their way to making millions for themselves. Every residence now has a ring, a chime, or even the old-school brinks or ADT system. Most of the time, excuse me, almost ALL of the time, it’s a false alarm.
County 3, I’ll head out there.
Station 9 copy. Thanks County 3.
Ok, that’s cool. County 3 tonight is Ramirez, I think. I hope. We’ve always gotten along, working in the same area for the last decade or so. We’re not like drinking buddies or anything but usually we will meet up for a coffee or a diner breakfast every now and then. More than I can say for most of my department. Well…. Let’s clear this call so I can get back to crushing this candy.
The address was only three miles away. I pulled up, threw it in park, and checked my CAD to see where Ramirez was. I shouldn’t have parked right out in front. Academy first day stuff. “Don’t get complacent.” I know. I know. My wits are still about me, I’m ready, but it’s just easier to make my life easier sometimes. And nothing really happens in this small town. Hell, there’s only 4 of us local cops. Thankfully we do have some help from the County. And by help we usually just let them handle most of our issues. They’ve got the equipment and resources so, fuck it. I’ll happily go and take care of dog off leash calls and folks complaining about their neighbor’s grass being too high. I’ve had my fill of Policing already. But that’s a story for another time.
1711, station 9, I’m up.
10-4.
County 3, show me pulling up.
10-4.
That’s weird, I don’t see that black and yellow sheriff car anywhere close- oh, here we go. Maybe CAD is messing up. It showed county 3 like 2 miles away just a minute ago. Time to get this dumb shit over with.
With a creak of the open driver side door and a creak in the back, I get my happy ass out of my cruiser. The back that sounds and feels like a 50-year-olds. Which would be fine if, you know, I was 50. I’m 33. It doesn’t feel like it.
The headlights dim from the County car. We’re parked with both our bumpers facing each other. Usually doesn’t happen like that, but, whatever, I guess. Not very tactical but not like we need to be. The door opens..
“Hey Rami-“
A tall, built guy steps out, towering out of the car. How the hell does he even fit inside? I’ve never seen this dude. He looks like god dang Arnold.
“Oh, hey bud,” I offer, “I figured Ramirez was County 3 tonight. I’m Happy.”
Obviously not my name, but it was a name given to me when I was back in SWAT. Another lifetime ago. And I loved that name, so I kept it. Just easier than getting too personal.
Arnold looked at me and broke an awkward smile. Kind of an odd first encounter from a fellow lawman. He pulled his shades up and placed them on his immaculate high and tight fade. It’s like 2 am, so that’s kind of weird. Lot of weirdness already. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Hey brother. Arnold. I used to cover the south end but asked to be out here. I hear it’s pretty chill.”
I do a slow nod and make sure to keep a tight smile. Inside my head I’m thinking “are you freaking serious, your name actually IS Arnold?” Straighten up. “Good to meet you, man. Guess we should cut the pleasantries and check out this house, eh?”
Arnold nods, checks his gear and extends his left hand, palm up, towards the house. A “Go ahead cochise,” gesture. I smirk and make my way up to the front of the house. “So, I was expecting Ramirez, did she just call in, or?”
“Not sure. Really don’t know much about her to be honest. I heard you two were pretty close though.”
This hit me in a weird way. Full disclosure, we are just friends. Partners in blue. I stopped, not really meaning to. I could feel Arnold stop himself from running into me, as he was not at all expecting me to stop walking toward the front of the house.
“I’ll say this. I don’t know what that means, but I’ll let it go. Don’t mention her again, ok?” I turned my head slightly, just to see his facial reaction.
“Whooooah, man. I’m sorry , I meant literally nothing by that. Just heard you guys worked good together. I won’t mention it again.”
I went over what I wanted to say in my head. I shouldn’t come off like this to some new boot just out of the academy. That shouldn’t have struck a nerve like that. These uniforms are hot. And uncomfortable. Add on the vest, the belt, the camera, the gun, etc. etc. I could feel the heat coming from my chest, out of my collar, toward my face. Disgusting. Like every day. Even when it’s winter, it’s hot wearing this shit. What happens when you’re hot and uncomfortable all the time? You get irritated. You get aggressive. Thankfully I learned a small trick from Joe Rogan. Breath. Open your mouth a little bit, and breathe. Get oxygen into your brain to calm yourself down. It worked.
“It’s fine… sorry to go off, that was uncalled for. I’ll buy your big ass a donut after this as an apology.”
Arnold laughed. Even though this Adonis could clearly fold me into a pretzel (and I’m no small guy myself,) he seemed to have some sense and recognize that I’m just not the type to be played around with. I appreciated that.
“Ok, good.” Something from the original call hit me just then. The burglary alarm tripped the front door and a basement motion. If someone has motion detectors set up, they have them in every hallway, every room. Usually. How could you conceivably break into the front door and then set off no alarms until the basement?
1711, Station 9.
9, go ahead.
Myself and County 3 will be checking the area.. shit.
Damnit. I hope that didn’t make the air. Between mentally sparring with myself and dealing with this newcomer, I didn’t notice the front door to 1300 Roosevelt was wide .. fucking .. open. I don’t think this is going to be a usual 10-90.
1711, Station 9, apologies. We have a front door open. Myself and 3 are going to make entry.
9 copies. Do you need additional units?
I’ll advise. We should be all set.
“You sure? Maybe having another car might be a good idea?” The big Oak says.
I stood frozen in place, not taking my eyes off of the front door. I’ve never been to this address. No issues. Why tonight. What has happened tonight. “No. We can handle it. You up to it?”
This always gets the rookies. They can’t have their pride be broken so early in their career. He rolls his head from side to side, and flexes his chest, probably involuntarily, but funny either way.
“Fuck yea I’m up to it.”
That’s what I thought.
Walking up to an open door is always going to be dicey. Little behind the curtain disclosure here. From day one to day 11,000, you will ALWAYS be afraid when you walk into a house. Door open, door closed, doesn’t matter. No one calls the Police to say “Hey, I’m having a really good day, I just wanted to let you know.” Something wrong has to happen for me to be called. For me to be standing here right now.
As I attempt to bang on the open door and announce that Police are coming in, it moves slightly. I didn’t touch it. At least I don’t think I did. Shit.. either way I don’t have time to think about it. Focus.
POLICE, if there’s anyone inside, make yourself known. Silence. Arnold, are you behind me? I hear a short shuffling and feel him moving to my side. I quickly glanced toward him. Damnit, son, get your gun out. We could be dealing with anything.
“Sorry,” he says as I hear his service weapon getting taken out from his holster. “I’m ready.” “Stay on me and do as I say. We have an open room with a hallway slight left. Looks like two or three rooms ahead, can’t exactly tell.” I feel him shake his head and grunt something.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Arnold’s demeanor has changed.
“Ok, I’m moving toward the hallway, keep your eye on the room. When I move up toward the hallway, you look behind those couches. We proceed slowly, and he indeed does as I say. The living room is clear. When I feel him come back, I move up to the first room.
POLICE, announce yourself.
Annnnooouuunce yoooourself..
Every hair on my body stands on end. Something answered me. The voice sounded human, but off. Like something trying to sound human. Its tone was mocking.
“What.. what the hell was what?” Arnold said in a hushed tone.
SHH. What kind of an answer would I have for that? I’m just trying to think of where it wa-
Thump thump thump THUMP THUMP
Footsteps. Running away from us, damnit I hope it was away from us. It must have been? I’m too confused.
“Fuuuuuck man, what is all this?” My partner that I just met 10 minutes ago said. Too loudly, I may add.
Just then the same footsteps appeared to be overhead. Wait.. is there a second floor to this house? How can’t I remember that? I might have considered Arnold’s questioning of having another unit here if there was more space to search. I thought it was a ranch house. I take a pause to get my mental back. “Ok,” I said out of the side of my mouth to Arnold, like it would make him hear it better. “We know someone is here. We can’t just stop searching though. I’m going to open this door and you contact, ok?”
He nods. I look over him quickly, doing a silent “1,2,3,” countdown and then rip open the door. He draws, and sees.. stairs. I took a deep, stressful breath. And we have a basement here too. Just keeps getting better. Perfect. Now we have a real issue. We can’t just go upstai—
Station 9, 1711 status check
Hach-e mach-e, I gasped. Damn radio scared the shit out of me. And let’s just ignore the fact that I actually said hach-e mach-e. That must have been what I said as a kid when I got scared.
Deep breath. 1711, Station 9, we are secure and working. Please send another unit, we have possible suspect in home.
We’ll try, we have all units tied up right now
1711 copy.
Well that’s perfect. Ok, back to the present. We can’t just leave but we have to be as safe as possible searching a house with just two people. “Ok, big guy. You stay here and hold this basement. I know we should search every room, but we don’t have time for that right now. I’m going up stairs to search for our suspect.” Oak just stares at me, trying his best to remain brave. No shame big guy, we’ve all been there.
Remaining vigilant, I made my way upstairs. At the base I, again, made my announcement. “SHOW YOURSELF AND HAVE YOUR HANDS VISIBLE”
ShoooOoOOw YOURssssself…
Now I’m just getting pissed. This can go so wrong, but I’ve always been good at using anger to remain focused and hyper aware. But that doesn’t mean this is still creepy as fuck.
Leading by the light equipped to my handgun, I made my way up the stairs. Lucky for me it’s corner fed right, which means there’s only one side to go once you reach the second floor. I’ll take any victory I –
BANG
I draw in that direction. My streamlight sees one closed door. What the fuck kind of second floor has ONE room.
Tap… tap…. Tap….
Guess it doesn’t take the smartest of cops to realize where my guy is. I yell out downstairs. “I got ‘em here man, just hold that basement and call again for an extra unit.”
No response.
HooOOOOld the … the.. BAAsemeeeeeent..
This one was different. It sounded like some old scary story where the mimic alien thing is trying to actively learn human speech. Fuck this. Without thinking I booted the door with everything I had. Perfect connection. The door flies open, revealing a child’s room. Kind of. There’s a mattress on the ground, the kind would fit into a crib. There was a lamp in the corner, with some kind of children’s cartoon characters adorning it. What there wasn’t, was a person in here.
“He needs help.”
Something whispered into my ear. The goosebumps on my flesh almost hurt. I holster and fly back down the stairs to Arnold. I’m sure it’s nothing but.. Arnold’s not there. The basement door remains open.
A million thoughts race through my head, like it’s 100’s of Daytona 500’s, and they’re all going different directions, racing at speeds of well over 200 mph. That’s a lot of numbers. Focus. How many times have I said that to myself tonight. Focus.
First thought: leave. Shameful thought. He might be hurt or in trouble down there. Second thought. Call once again for immediate backup. This I actually tried.. and the radio does not transmit. Perfect. How many times have I said that tonight. Clearing my mind, I know what I have to do. I have to go downstairs.
GooOOOoo DoooOOwn…
“Fuck you.” That’s my response.
Each stair creaks. Almost more worried about falling through and splitting my fat head than what lies beneath. But they hold. And now I’m on the .. dirt floor? No one has a basement like this in this neighborhood. I was so enamored on the dirt floor that I almost didn’t register that a dark figure moved quickly from left to right in front of my eyes. Time to be stupid or brave. Maybe both.
“ARNOLD… are you down here, are you ok?”
I’m ok…. I’m hurt.. follow my voice… I can’t move.
Good, he’s ok. “Where are you?”
Right… in.. front of you. Help me. I can’t..
I’m coming buddy. I can’t reach dispatch, they must be –
Station 9, 1711… Station 9, 1711? ..
Station 9 TO 1711, PLEASE RESPOND
County 3, Station 9, I’ll swing by his location. Just send me his whereabouts.
Copy that County 3, thank you Deputy Ramirez

A tweet by the Chinese Embassy in Sri Lanka sums it up:

In 2017, Sri Lankan gov't decided to raise much-needed dollars by leasing out the Hambantota Port and used the cash infusion to pay back due International Sovereign Bonds (ISB), not to pay off China Eximbank. In other words, China saved Sri Lanka from the Western "Debt Trap".

An article by The Atlantic backs up what the tweet says:

In 2015, Sri Lanka had steep payments on international sovereign bonds, nearly 40% of Sri Lanka's external debt. It owed more to Japan, the World Bank, and the Asian Development Bank than to China. Of the $4.5 billion in debt service in 2017, only 5% was Hambantota's. Sri Lanka's Central Bank said that Hambantota, and Chinese finance in general, was not the source of the country’s financial distress.
Canada's leading engineering and construction firm carried out a study that recommended building the port through a joint-venture agreement between the Sri Lanka Ports Authority and a "private consortium" on a build-own-operate-transfer basis, a type of project in which a single company receives a contract to undertake all the steps required to get such a port up and running, and then gets to operate it when it is.
There was never a default. A bailout from the IMF was arranged, much-needed dollars were raised by leasing out the underperforming Hambantota Port to an experienced company -- just as the Canadians had recommended. The only two bids came from China Merchants and China Harbor -- Sri Lanka chose China Merchants, making it the majority shareholder with a 99-year lease, and used the $1.12 billion cash infusion to bolster its foreign reserves.

Furthermore, China is economically developing Sri Lanka:

In the 2000s-2010s China invested substantially in Sri Lanka and was one of the largest investors. It built a national theater and infrastructure linked to the Belt and Road Initiative such as the Port of Hambantota, the Hambantota International Airport, the Norocholai Power Station and the Port City Colombo project

And the media never mentions that the port is the only example of this sort:

A study found only one case of asset seizure, the oft-cited Hambantota Port in Sri Lanka, and said that China is more likely to restructure or write-off the debt.

The Atlantic article above says that even the port wasn't an asset seizure:

Our research shows that Chinese banks are willing to restructure the terms of existing loans and have never actually seized an asset from any country, much less the port of Hambantota

China writes off debts regularly. e.g.:

Xi: "For those of Africa's least developed countries, heavily indebted and poor countries, landlocked developing countries and small island developing countries that have diplomatic relations with China, the debt they have incurred in the form of interest-free Chinese government loans due to mature by the end of 2018 will be exempted"

Same in 2021:

#China will exempt the Least Developed Countries (LDCs) in #Africa from debt incurred in the form of interest-free Chinese government loans due by the end of 2021.

My husband and I are currently doing a two week trip including Osaka, Shimanami Kaido, Kyoto, and Tokyo in that order. I wanted to write up a trip report for the trail because I was researching a lot and want to give my experience.
We are not hard-core bikers. We work out at the gym weekly and live in a city where we walk around a lot but we did not train for this. We stayed the night in Onomichi the night before because we wanted to wake up and go. We split the biking into two days with an overnight stop in Setoda and ended in Imabari.
Because of jet lag we wake up at 5am everyday. Not a bad thing if you want to have a full day but Japan does not really open until 9am. We ate breakfast at a cafe called Rio because they open at 7:30am. Lovely owners and a small set breakfast with coffee for around 500 yen.
We stayed at Urashima INN - GANGI and shipped our luggage while checking out to Imabari Urban Hotel. These hotels were on the recommended list on the Shimanami Cycle website to ship luggage from hotel to hotel so we just stuck to it. It was 2,200 yen per luggage to ship. You have to pay in cash and the hotel front desk helped us fill it out because you have to write kanji for the address. We each had a 10 liter day pack with a change of close for the next day, toiletries and snacks.
We then walked over to the Lawsons to pick up drinks and food. We had bike reservations at Shimanami Cycle. We paid 5,000 yen for the bikes and a 1,000 yen deposit that you don't get back if you return the bikes in Imabari. So we paid 12,000 yen for both of us in cash. They also give you a paper map, helmet and bike lock. We only used the bike locks at night.
Speaking of cash, if you do this trail have a lot of cash. The bikes were cash, shipping luggage was cash, ferry is cash and you're biking through small towns and you'll want to stop at vending machines for more water. The large cyclist stops will have card payments but theres only a few of those along the trail.
The first day from Onomichi to Setoda took us 5 hours, got on the ferry at 9:30am and got to Setoda at 2:30pm. The ferry is 100 yen per person and 10 yen per bike. Pay the ferry man after you board. After you get off the ferry start following the blue line to Imabari. We didn't stray off this line the whole time. There are many outlooks and stopping points along the trail. We would stop and eat snack while enjoying the view then refill our snack bag at the convinience store when we saw them. On the first island an older man stopped us and gifted us a local citrus from his grove. It was so nice. We also stopped at a free flower center half way through the day and a juice stand closer to Setoda. There's also gelato next to the juice stand but we couldnt pass up fresh squeezed local citrus.
I have a N5-N4 level of communication and reading. So I do know enough Japanese to talk to people and understand them. Even if you don't know Japanese the trail is English friendly enough that if you stay on the blue line you won't get lost but do learn basic phrases to use and listen for. If you stop at the convinience stores along the way like us learn the checkout phrases they say. It's the same questions everytime so after awhile you'll get it.
There are so many restrooms and vending machines along the way. This trail isn't exactly roughing it even though you are in a lesser foreigner traveled area. Lots of free and clean restrooms. Many of them are squatting toilets without toilet paper so bring your own if you want. There also won't be soap in a few of them so we brought sanitizing hand wipes.
We arrived in Setoda around 2:30pm but couldn't check in until 3pm so we enjoyed a coffee at Soil Setoda Living. We then checked in at the Ryokan SUMINOE. Amazing experience. We had an onsen bath and traditional dinner which was very appreciated after a long day of biking. If you are just biking through, there's a temple which is worth it to check out, Kousanji. Massive complex that costs 1,500 yen per ticket. There's temple buildings, a crazy cave with waterfalls, and a white marble mountain top with a view over looking the town.
We headed out the next day at 9:00am again and arrived in Imabari at 4:00pm. It took us 7 hours the second day. We definitely were more tired and sore. The back half of the trail has a lot more hills than the first half. We pushed our bikes up the big hills. We stopped a few times and I even picked up a Imabari hand towel at one of the cyclist stops which I used to protect my neck from the sun.
Bring sunscreen and a hat! We used and reapplied sunscreen but still got burnt. We should have been reapplying every other hour. One area I didn't put sunscreen was the back of my hands. They are so burnt right now. The weather was perfect for end of March and early April. We packed windbreakers instead of sweatshirts because it can be windy going down the hills and when you bike by the sea.
We spent the night in Imabari and our shipped luggage was waiting for us. We also did laundry the next morning before our train to Kyoto. Very cute 24 hour coin laundry. コインランドリー right next to the Uniqlo. Nice that it's 24 hours so we put our early morning to good use.
We would definitely do the Shimanami Kaido again. Maybe with more stops or staying on a different island so we can explore off the blue line path.
Happy to answer questions if needed.