Bath and body works pleasant valley

Hello, I'm the Fort Bliss Bone Marrow Guy. I'm a specialist in the army who started an initiative at my first unit about 8 months after I arrived out of AIT. I ran around shamming out of work to go suave my way into Battalion CSM offices all around post so I could organize Bone Marrow Registry drives at their unit. Doing this for a year I registered 3000 soldiers all around Fort Bliss. After catching some good ol media buzz hunting for good PR, building a bunch of resources off everything I learned the hard way while doing this work, and some semi-ethical power moves. 1AD decided to pick up the program as a yearly initiative across every unit on post. It's called Operation Ring the Bell.
This program has the sole objective of registering as many soldiers as possible into the National Bone marrow donor registry through Salute to Life. Currently I'm working to cement it into Fort Bliss yearly operations and SOP. As well as working to get other bases on board and mirror the same yearly program. Though my real love is when other individual soldiers like myself reach out and learn how they can organize these drives at their unit. Whether it's just for awards, recognition, or their own big heart; I don't care because it saves lives. I will make every effort to ensure they get whatever they need to get those registrations. As well as every single drop of credit for their work.
WHY YOU SHOULD REGISTER
Bone marrow is that funky spongy bit in the middle of all of your bones. This is where white blood cells are made, which make up your entire immune system. Chemotherapy destroys your bone marrow's ability to create white blood cells, often making it incapable of recovering on its own. So you're on heavy-duty antibiotics until you find a donor. Getting a donation is a lot like jumpstarting your 29% APR dodge charger, a little bit of juice and the whole system can start right back up again so it can drive on to get pulled over for illegal tints another day. Registering as a donor does not mean you will be donating today, this year, in ten years, or more likely never at all. Bone marrow is entirely unique to donating blood or plasma in this way. The only way you'll ever get a call to donate is if you are almost genetically identical with someone who needs your specific bone juice asap. The chances of you ever donating are astronomically low. That's why registering is so vital.
If the vape clouds and diesel fumes catch up and you find yourself laying on the hospital bed. Tossing back antibiotics every day like breathmints before prom so that a rogue sneeze in another room doesn't wipe you out. You're going to need a bone marrow donor. You're not just going to need any bone marrow donor. You're going to need a very very very specific donor. And it's actually very unlikely that they are going to be from your family. 70% of the time you need to find your genetic twin from some random place in the country. You have to hope that there's someone somewhere that's your genetic twin and just as handsome as you are and that they registered as a donor. You're going to have to hope joebillybob from Nebraska took a minute from wearing shorts in the snow to donate some spit and get on the registry. His DNA is so close to yours that they can take his bone marrow and plop it into yours, and your body will recognize it as its own DNA and not just immediately reject it and kill you.
This system seems pretty rigged from the start, but the system is lucky that it's made to find donors for humans. And humans love to make more humans. This system works because there are 8 billion of us on the planet and by sheer probability you're likely going to have a just-as -handsome twin somewhere with a just-as-ate-up hairline as yours. But the only way to find them is to register. Notice I haven't been just describing this system as you donating. 14,000 Americans a year are diagnosed with leukemia. Tens of thousands of people a year are diagnosed with other illnesses that require chemotherapy or other methods. Registering to the database isn't exclusively to give you the chance to rack up some huge good karma. You or someone you know just might be so unlucky to be one of them. If that happens and you need a marrow donation;
-Unless you want to wait around in a sanitized room for months waiting to just get processed into the registry you'd likely better register now.
-Unless you want to see your friend, brother, sister, spouse, children deathly pale lying in that hospital bed sick for months while you and your family rushes to get registered to see if you're the lucky 30% whose family can save them and having to waste crucial time just to get your DNA sequenced and made searchable in the database.
You had better register sooner than later.
You could have a million reasons for saying no to registering but if the biggest excuse is that you're afraid of that big needle going into your bones or your spine. That reason is no longer valid. They do not touch your bones anymore. 80% of all registrations are done by PBSC. That's stem cells, but from your blood. If you've donated plasma you've essentially done the exact same process of donating bone marrow. Two needles, two arms and a pill that sheds bone marrow stem cells into your blood accompanied by some sitting around watching "grey's anatomy" for the 15th time. Completely painless, completely noninvasive. That percentage of PBSC has gone since Ring The Bell started, and it's only going to go up more each year as medical technology improves. You will not have a spinal tap, that hasn't been an option in decades. If you need to travel they cover wages, travel, per diem, and allow you to bring someone along, all expenses completely paid for.
Hundreds die each year waiting for their nurse to run in and tell them they found a match. Dozens die each year hearing their nurse tell them that their match said no when they called. Parents dying before they can see their kids grow up. Children dying before they get a chance to grow up.
You will never have to donate if the time comes and you're a match, you will never be forced to save someone in need. You could register today just to safeguard yourself for the future, and that's absolutely fine. But if you ever find yourself desperately needing a donation, spending months or even years nauseated and sick from the medication, you'll be praying that your only genetic match in the country picks up that phone and says yes.

In essay writing, a thesis statement is a concise sentence or two that presents the main argument or point of your essay. It serves as a roadmap for your essay, guiding the reader and providing a clear focus for your writing. A strong thesis statement is vital as it helps establish the purpose of your essay and provides a foundation for the development of your arguments.
Here are some key characteristics of a well-crafted thesis statement:

1. Clear and concise: A thesis statement should be written in a clear and straightforward manner, avoiding ambiguity or vagueness. It should clearly express the main idea or argument of your essay without unnecessary complexity.
   
2. Specific and focused: A strong thesis statement is specific and focused on a particular aspect of your topic. It should avoid making broad or generalized statements and instead provide a narrow and precise claim that can be effectively explored in your essay.
   
3. Arguable and debatable: A thesis statement should present an argument or position that is open to interpretation or debate. It should not be a statement of fact but rather a claim that can be supported with evidence and analysis throughout your essay.
   
4. Reflective of the essay's purpose: The thesis statement should align with the purpose or objective of your essay. Whether you are analyzing a literary work, providing an argumentative stance on a topic, or presenting a persuasive case, your thesis statement should reflect the overall intention of your essay.
   
5. Placed in the introduction: In most cases, the thesis statement is placed at the end of the introductory paragraph. It serves as a transition between the introduction and the body of your essay, where you will elaborate on the main points introduced in the thesis statement.
   

When crafting a thesis statement, take the time to brainstorm and refine your ideas. Consider the main arguments or points you want to make in your essay and how they relate to the overall topic. Refine your thesis statement until it effectively captures the essence of your essay and provides a clear direction for your writing.
Remember that the thesis statement is not set in stone and can be revised and refined as you progress with your essay. It is common for the thesis statement to evolve as you conduct research and gain a deeper understanding of your topic.

Hello, I'm the Bone Marrow Guy. I'm a specialist who started an initiative at my first unit about 8 months after I arrived out of AIT. I ran around shamming out of work to go suave my way into Battalion CSM offices all around post so I could organize Bone Marrow Registry drives at their unit. Doing this for a year I registered 3000 soldiers all around Fort Bliss. After catching some good ol media buzz hunting for good PR, building a bunch of resources off everything I learned the hard way while doing this work, and some semi-ethical power moves. 1AD decided to pick up the program as a yearly initiative across every unit on post. It's called Operation Ring the Bell.
This program has the sole objective of registering as many soldiers as possible into the National Bone marrow donor registry through Salute to Life. Currently I'm working to cement it into Fort Bliss yearly operations and SOP. As well as working to get other bases on board and mirror the same yearly program. Though my real love is when other individual soldiers like myself reach out and learn how they can organize these drives at their unit. Whether it's just for awards, recognition, or their own big heart; I don't care because it saves lives. I will make every effort to ensure they get whatever they need to get those registrations. As well as every single drop of credit for their work.
WHY YOU SHOULD REGISTER
Bone marrow is that funky spongy bit in the middle of all of your bones. This is where white blood cells are made, which make up your entire immune system. Chemotherapy destroys your bone marrow's ability to create white blood cells, often making it incapable of recovering on its own. So you're on heavy-duty antibiotics until you find a donor. Getting a donation is a lot like jumpstarting your 29% APR dodge charger, a little bit of juice and the whole system can start right back up again so it can drive on to get pulled over for illegal tints another day. Registering as a donor does not mean you will be donating today, this year, in ten years, or more likely never at all. Bone marrow is entirely unique to donating blood or plasma in this way. The only way you'll ever get a call to donate is if you are almost genetically identical with someone who needs your specific bone juice asap. The chances of you ever donating are astronomically low. That's why registering is so vital.
If the vape clouds and diesel fumes catch up and you find yourself laying on the hospital bed. Tossing back antibiotics every day like breathmints before prom so that a rogue sneeze in another room doesn't wipe you out. You're going to need a bone marrow donor. You're not just going to need any bone marrow donor. You're going to need a very very very specific donor. And it's actually very unlikely that they are going to be from your family. 70% of the time you need to find your genetic twin from some random place in the country. You have to hope that there's someone somewhere that's your genetic twin and just as handsome as you are and that they registered as a donor. You're going to have to hope joebillybob from Nebraska took a minute from wearing shorts in the snow to donate some spit and get on the registry. His DNA is so close to yours that they can take his bone marrow and plop it into yours, and your body will recognize it as its own DNA and not just immediately reject it and kill you.
This system seems pretty rigged from the start, but the system is lucky that it's made to find donors for humans. And humans love to make more humans. This system works because there are 8 billion of us on the planet and by sheer probability you're likely going to have a just-as -handsome twin somewhere with a just-as-ate-up hairline as yours. But the only way to find them is to register. Notice I haven't been just describing this system as you donating. 14,000 Americans a year are diagnosed with leukemia. Tens of thousands of people a year are diagnosed with other illnesses that require chemotherapy or other methods. Registering to the database isn't exclusively to give you the chance to rack up some huge good karma. You or someone you know just might be so unlucky to be one of them. If that happens and you need a marrow donation;
-Unless you want to wait around in a sanitized room for months waiting to just get processed into the registry you'd likely better register now.
-Unless you want to see your friend, brother, sister, spouse, children deathly pale lying in that hospital bed sick for months while you and your family rushes to get registered to see if you're the lucky 30% whose family can save them and having to waste crucial time just to get your DNA sequenced and made searchable in the database.
You had better register sooner than later.
You could have a million reasons for saying no to registering but if the biggest excuse is that you're afraid of that big needle going into your bones or your spine. That reason is no longer valid. They do not touch your bones anymore. 80% of all registrations are done by PBSC. That's stem cells, but from your blood. If you've donated plasma you've essentially done the exact same process of donating bone marrow. Two needles, two arms and a pill that sheds bone marrow stem cells into your blood accompanied by some sitting around watching "grey's anatomy" for the 15th time. Completely painless, completely noninvasive. That percentage of PBSC has gone since Ring The Bell started, and it's only going to go up more each year as medical technology improves. You will not have a spinal tap, that hasn't been an option in decades. If you need to travel they cover wages, travel, per diem, and allow you to bring someone along, all expenses completely paid for.
Hundreds die each year waiting for their nurse to run in and tell them they found a match. Dozens die each year hearing their nurse tell them that their match said no when they called. Parents dying before they can see their kids grow up. Children dying before they get a chance to grow up.
You will never have to donate if the time comes and you're a match, you will never be forced to save someone in need. You could register today just to safeguard yourself for the future, and that's absolutely fine. But if you ever find yourself desperately needing a donation, spending months or even years nauseated and sick from the medication, you'll be praying that your only genetic match in the country picks up that phone and says yes.

I’m a new teacher, I’m a fairly young tradesman (electrician) who took the leap into TAFE teaching after being burnt out by the construction world. Early starts, weekend work, 24 hour call out rosters, back breaking physical work + aggressive and abusive bosses/ customers all contributed to me becoming disillusioned with my career choice despite the excellent salary. I started teaching late 2021, and my quality of life and job satisfaction has improved greatly. I feel as if I’m contributing to society much more positively by helping the next generation of young people, the hours are much more friendly for my hobbies and my body is so much less fatigued. (school holidays off is an amazing bonus aswell after only getting 4 weeks leave a year for the last decade )I regularly have conversations with people in my staff room who wish they started teaching earlier instead of grinding out their trade for decades. Unfortunately what I’ve learnt in my young life is that all careers have plenty of negatives, and I’m well aware teachers are over worked all over Australia .. what I will say to counter that tho, I would rather be stressed helping young people then helping builders make $$. If you are an empathetic and patient person, those skills will be wasted in many industries, but not teaching.

I'm talking about taking care of yourself spiritually, emotionally and mentally. Of course taking care of your physical body is also important, but since people already toot the benefits of it, I'm excluding it here.
It is incredibly important to have self-love, be strong willed, do what you love and take time out to meditate or do a breathing exercise, yet all society seems to care about is whipping people in shape like horses and off to work you go. What matters most is money, capitalism and outer appearances, no matter how crushed you might feel on the inside. I'm not saying those things aren't important necessarily, but personal growth should be equally important.
I personally vouch for celebrating inner work and shadow work. I've made great progress rebuilding my self-esteem after a toxic relationship and I'm proud of myself even if other people don’t see the benefit in how I got myself out of my past situation. I am strong and I will persevere despite challenges. So many people walk around unhealed. They have the job, the pretty car, the "arm-candy", but they completely lack mental character.

I think I’m past the honeymoon period of sobriety. When I first got sober and stuck with it about a month ago I felt fucking fantastic. It gave me a sense of superiority to others that I’d see at the pubs as I was walking back home from work (as douchey as that is) and I felt genuinely proud of myself to keep this poison out of my body.
Now though, my brain keeps going “a little sip wouldn’t be that bad, just one beer.” Over and over again. I’m struggling to keep it staved off.
I had a nightly ritual; I would finish work, take a couple of beers out of the work fridge (office has a big drinking culture) drink one en route to the first train station and then drink the 2nd on my final train home as a “reward” for getting through the day. Then when I got back to my town, I’d pop into the off license and get a couple of tins for the walk home. By the time I get in the front door, I’m drunk.
I have an inexplicable craving to do that tomorrow. I keep playing the tape forward and keep reminding myself that if my partner catches me drunk that could well be the end of our relationship. But this little fucking voice in my head says I can have just one.
How the fuck do you cope with this shit?

I have a female whose about (Lucy) 10 months old. I picked up, at the very oldest a 6 week old female who was outside under my car meowing for a solid 8 hours. Now inside (Gave flea bath) I have the new kitten set up in her own room with litter (she knew how to use it) food and water. Toys coming tmrw morning. I just was looking for tips anyone has for introducing younger cats besides the basic of separation and smell swabbing. I want this to be as smooth and as stress less as possible for everyone involved here. Hoping they can become best friends so my Lucy won’t be alone while I work. If anyone has their own experience I’d love to hear good and bad just so I know what to expect. Thank you all in advance.

Hello! I'm looking for some people to play games and hang out with. Now I play an assortment of games but ill get to that in a minute.First I would prefer if you were around my age 16-19 and he timezone/region can be whatever because my sleep schedule is wack when I don't work. I'm also looking for people who are willing to message each other. I also would prefer if you had a mic because it makes communicating a lot easier.
Now on about myself, I enjoy lots of anime and have seen enough to where I can have long conversations (a little too much lol). I've seen A LOT of it so I would be down to watch or even rewatch some. I like a lot of genres of games such as Fps, survival, space,rogue-like, automation etc. I'm a night owl when I don't work so ill be on almost the whole day. I also can have a dark sense of humour at times and don't mind if you have one as well.
Here are just a few that I have been playing or would possibly want to play
Stardew Valley
Valorant
Terraria/Modded
Valheim
Risk of Rain 2
Apex legends
Starbound
Guilty Gear Strive
league
Lost Ark (basically at the beginning)
and possibly Maplestory (idk looked interesting)
and many other parties or games of the genre that I mentioned. (also your skill level in gaming doesn't really matter to me, as long as you can have a good time while playing)
I'm also down to just be on a call and talk while we play different games or if you want to vent about your day.
That's about it for this post! Just be around my age and timezone and it should be good.
message me your discord and an intro about yourself (age, name, likes, whatever you want).
also don't be shocked if it takes me a while to respond sometimes, I get swamped with work quite often!

Before I dive into everything that has happened over the last couple of weeks I want to get a couple of things out of the way. I moved to this town four months ago because of a job offer: I was supposed to start working with a construction company. Second, I am not going to give you my last name. But I will tell you my first name, it's Tom. I am telling you all this, just in case. Ya know?
Anyway, I moved here four months ago. At first, the job offer seemed too good to be true. I was promised an apartment, full benefits, and grocery delivery twice a month. I was told the town was small, and honestly, it is! I am not used to living in a place like this. I mean, I saw the stars for the first time in my life the day I got to my new apartment.
The apartment itself is nice, I have two bedrooms and a good-sized bathroom. I have no complaints about any of the accommodations. Two weeks into moving here I was told that I would be starting at the end of the month. My boss told me that rent would be covered and gave me a list of things I needed for my first day.
As the end of the month came around I decided to go out and buy a new pair of work boots. I figured this would give me a good chance to get a look around town and maybe meet some people. I was mostly right.
The store was only a couple of blocks from my apartment building so instead of taking my truck I decided to walk. The town is cozy, ya know? Like everyone seems normal. Everything felt like it came out of a classic American novel though. So anyway, I went and got my boots and on the way home I decided to stop at a store and pick up the local newspaper.
When I got home and sat on my couch to crack open the newspaper, I could tell something was off right away. The story on the front page read “New Mayor Elected” and right below that, “Strange Lights in the Sky.” By itself, those two things would not raise red flags, but the pictures looked off. It’s hard for me to put into words but the photo of the new mayor looked both old and new. I scanned the page for a date and couldn’t find one. I figured that maybe something went wrong with the printing or something. After I gave the front page a good read I put the paper down and went to bed.
For two days I stayed home to make sure I was well rested. At this point, I had not purchased a tv yet and decided to jump on the opportunity and read more. On my way to pick up new boots, I noticed the town library and thought why not? I could get a couple of books and a new paper. The library itself is beautiful. The wood looks well maintained and the giant stone lions on either side of the staircase were extremely cool to look at the first time I saw them.
Heading into this library was just like walking into any other library. I don’t know what I was expecting. The outside was cool so I thought the inside would be more done up. As I walked through the aisle and scanned the books I could feel the hairs on my arms stand up. It was a weird feeling, something I had not experienced before this: It was almost like I was scared for no reason. As I pulled a book off of the shelf and read the cover I was extremely puzzled, for reference I was standing in the history section. The book read, “To Mars and Back. How America pioneered space travel.” It sounded more like a science fiction book to me, and there were a lot of other books like this. “They live among us, humanity's first contact with God.” or “The secret history of the Roman empire.” As I went through and examined more books I started to notice little scratches on the bookcase. They looked like tally marks. I followed them down the shelf until I found some writing. “Turn back” and “Go home” were scribbled on the shelf. I quickly stood up and clenched the book I was holding.
As I turned around I took one last look at the book in my hands before heading off to speak with a librarian. As I approached the counter I swear to god the woman behind the counter took my breath away. She was so beautiful, but it didn’t seem natural. I could feel the hairs on the back of my head stand up as I got closer to the desk. I decided to put the book down and leave. There was something inside of me, screaming at me to not speak to the woman. As I headed out of the building and walked down the staircase I noticed my hands were shaking. I was confused because technically, nothing happened.
I never bought a paper that day. Instead, I went home and went to sleep. Technically it was midafternoon, I had no idea why I was tired in the first place.
When I woke up the next day and went to check the mail, I found a rolled-up newspaper at my front door. I shit you not I have been getting a newspaper every day since that day. At first, I was interested in reading them, but the more I read the more I didn’t want to read. At the end of the month, I was waiting for a call from my boss, but the call never came. I tried to call him but his phone was disconnected.
As the next month rolled around I kept getting the newspapers. I stopped receiving normal mail, and I stopped wanting to live in this damn apartment. Two weeks into the new month I decided to call it quits and move back. I was not getting this job and my time here had been nothing but uncomfortable. So I packed my bags and stormed outside to climb into my truck. I was planning on leaving that day however, my tiers had been slashed.
I did what anyone would do, right? I called the damn police. They came promptly and once again I was met with the same feelings as when I saw the librarian. These men did not look real. Every inch of their faces looked…fake. I mean yes they were people but there was not a hair out of place. They were perfectly symmetrical in every way. The whole time I was filling out the police report my hands were shaking. My body was so tense I thought I was going to fall over on the spot. Once the situation was handled I ran back to my apartment. I was skipping steps as I went back upstairs. I felt like I could not get upstairs fast enough.
A couple of hours later I heard pounding at my door. I can’t stress this enough, the pounding scared the shit out of me. “WHO IS IT?!” I screamed. “Please! I need help!” A woman called back to me. I went to my front door, I wish I could tell you I did not hesitate but I did. I eventually opened the door for the women. She was an absolute mess, her makeup was running down her face and she was wearing pajamas. It will sound fucked up but I was so happy to see this woman, her crying gave me comfort. She did not look like the others, she looked real and natural. I asked her what happened and she told me her daughter had gone missing. I asked her if she called the police and she told me no. She said she wouldn’t, she told me her daughter wouldn't go to them either. I asked her what her daughter's name is, she told me her name is Zoey. We talked for what felt like hours before I told her I would keep my eyes open. She thanked me and went back to her apartment in tears. As I closed and locked my door I went to the pile of newspapers and opened the most recent one. I wanted to see if there was any mention of Zoey in the paper. The front page read, “Local man found dead outside of his home. No suspects.” below that there was another heading, “Local girl missing.” I checked for a name but it wasn’t Zoey. They are the same age though. As I scanned the paper I heard a scream come from down the hallway. I stood up quickly and rushed to my door, this time without hesitation I ripped it open and looked down the hallway. And that’s where I saw…it. One of the cops except it wasn’t a man. He had tight skin, he almost looked like a walking skeleton. His eyes were bulging out of his head, and his arms were larger. “Sir…” The thing said to me. I quickly turned and slammed the door shut. I locked all four locks and put the kitchen table up against the door. I haven’t left this apartment since. I did call my ex, she said she would come and get me but I don’t know how long I will be waiting. If this is fear, I have had enough. I can’t sleep and I am too scared to eat. It feels like my heart might explode like my whole perception of reality has changed.

Previous attempt
Hey everyone! I've been working on my query. Manuscript-wise I'm essentially ready to go, but the query package is continually a struggle for me. Hopefully this version is clearer than other iterations.

Also for reference, this is an adult novel. Pretty much every beta I've had told advised against toning violence/themes down for YA, saying it works better as an Adult novel even with it starting in high school. So for that reason, I'd love feedback as to whether the query sounds too YA, as past queries where I didn't specify lead to that assumption.

Dear (Agent),
(Personalization). I am seeking representation for my queer supernatural thriller, HARVEY, complete at 98,000 words. With its emphasis on the Midwestern setting, it will appeal to fans of Gothic fiction and those with Y2K nostalgia.
In the fall of 1999, someone begins terrorizing the small, remote town of Harvey, Missouri. Some residents vanish without a trace, while others are found brutally murdered, their bodies lacerated and completely drained of blood.
There’s no clear pattern linking the victims, nor any viable suspects, but eighteen-year-old Oliver Whitman isn’t frightened about his own safety. After all, with his terminal genetic heart condition, death has loomed over him since birth, and he views his life as disposable—a mindset that his clandestine boyfriend, Jace, can’t seem to understand. Plus, no one but Oliver knows from wandering into the woods one evening that the culprits are beyond anything humanly imaginable. It’s an easy decision for him to sacrifice his life to protect his love from them.
Four years later, the last thing Jace—now a college senior—wants is to return to Missouri, especially Harvey, as he’s still grieving the loss of Oliver. However, when a former classmate’s body is found on the anniversary of Oliver's disappearance, Jace finds himself unwillingly pulled back in. While he has no idea who—or what—it is that has a personal vendetta against Harvey and its residents, a string of threatening messages written in blood make one thing certain: Jace is the next target.
Following dual POVs, HARVEY is a character-driven story that explores the lengths to which individuals will go to protect those they care about. My novel will appeal to fans of vampire novels such as CERTAIN DARK THINGS by Silvia Moreno-Garcia or THE SOUTHERN BOOK CLUB’S GUIDE TO SLAYING VAMPIRES by Grady Hendrix, and fans of queer, supernatural romances such as the GREEN CREEK series by T.J. Klune or THE DEAD AND THE DARK by Courtney Gould.
(Bio)
First 300
“Bob, it seems we’re hearing no new developments on the recent missing person case coming out of Harvey, Missouri this morning. Nineteen-year-old Tyler O’Sullivan is the ninth person in Adams County to turn up missing or dead this year.”
“Truly awful, Janice. And such a terrible situation for what we hear is such a small, close-knit community. I think I speak for everyone when I say we all hope they find him safe and sound.”
“Well, the O’Sullivan family and the Adams County Police Department are asking for anyone with any information to please call the number—”
“Did you know him?” Jace’s mother asked as he wandered into the kitchen that Monday morning. She was setting the crockpot for dinner, but her tired eyes seemed unable to break from the small box TV on the linoleum counter.
Jace Silva pulled the milk carton from the fridge and stared at the image on the TV. On it was a list of Tyler’s physical attributes and clothes he last wore alongside his senior yearbook photo. His gray eyes were partially obscured by his black bangs, yet seemed to pierce into Jace’s soul.
“Not really.”
Of course, he knew of Tyler. He frequently saw him in the school halls until his graduation last year. Living in a small, rural town in fuckall nowhere, Missouri it was hard not to know everyone at least by face, especially someone one grade above. With shaggy hair and edgy black clothing in the middle of the rural bible belt, he stood out like a sore thumb.
Tyler and his family went to church every Sunday, yet people always looked at him and his equally black-clad friend, Evangeline Lark, like they were demon possessed. Not that anyone dared to say anything to Tyler’s face, given his cop father. Though after Columbine a few months ago, pressure did make him trim his hair and switch to normal blue jeans. Jace himself thought little of it.

"As a natural continuation of the previous chapter, where we talked about Self-Awareness, this and the following two chapters will deepen our understanding of awareness — more specifically, Living Awareness. This is because we have used the term Living Awareness here and there throughout this book, to differentiate between mere idea and something experiential, truly alive; and now it’s time to delve deeper into it. Living Awareness is a term that I coined back in 2014 to refer the deeper levels of awareness, which I began to experience at that time. In a nutshell, Living Awareness means of a direct connection to Source of All Living Life — it is a state of pure awareness beyond the limitations of space, time, and form — the union of opposites, in which self and non-self are realized as one. In other words, Living Awareness is a pure state of being that passes beyond the boundaries of our personal existence — a deep inner knowing, an instant realization, recognition and acknowledgment in every moment that the observer and the observed, subject and the object — are the very same thing — One Interconnected Whole.
Before we can delve deeper into Living Awareness itself, it would be beneficial to explain the basic idea behind awareness, so that we can expand upon it later; and by doing so, we can ease the process of understanding when it comes to Living Awareness. Undoubtedly, awareness is one of the greatest gifts that existence has given to human beings — we all experience it, even if we don’t have a true understanding of what it is or how it works. With increasing awareness, one does find life to be more fulfilling — we will learn more about this in the following chapters. So what is awareness? Beyond definitions related to having consciousness, knowledge or understanding of something, awareness is the quality of being awake, with the recognition that there are different ways in which we may or may not be awake.
Awareness is the state or ability to feel, to perceive, to know, and to be conscious of our own existence — within and without. As such, awareness is closely linked to, and intimately connected with consciousness that makes us conscious of our body and mind, our environment and the world around us. This, in turn, makes us aware of our beingness as a living and breathing expression of life. The physical level of awareness is represented by the body and its sensations of the world. Although our sensations are experienced through the body, this awareness is distinct from awareness of sensation within the body itself, which goes on to say that there is more to awareness than meets the eye — a spiritual dimension or component, if you will. The spiritual level of awareness goes much deeper than the ordinary everyday states of wakefulness — it can be said to be a direct connection to all that is — knowing reality, knowing existence, knowing one’s being, and ultimately, knowing God, you see?
Furthermore, all life has awareness in varying degrees, or more aptly, all Life is Awareness — Living Awareness that comes from Spirit. Our current level of awareness separates us from rocks, plants and animals; as human beings, in a human level, we have expanded our awareness to a certain level of self-awareness, which allows us to express sapience — the ability to think and act using knowledge, experience, understanding, common sense and insight. It is this very self-awareness that allows us to think, wonder, ponder, and contemplate topics concerning existence itself; it allows us to conceptualize deeper or larger questions about human existence, to pose and ponder questions about life, death, and ultimate realities. This expansion has not yet reached the level where we would be fully self-realized beings, although we are well on our way towards it." You can read the full article on the website: https://www.infinitequantumzen.info/2023/04/living-awareness-the-heart-of-all-living-life.html
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This may be long but I’ll try hard to do coles notes.

• I’m 36 now. When I was about 21, a coworker asked why I was shaking so much as I handed her paperwork. We chalked it up to not eating. I half forgot about it tbh.
  
• I’ve always been shaking when nervous to the extent having to sign paperwork for say, a tattoo or piercing, signing was HARD. beyond shaking. Again, assumed extreme fear.
  
• husband taught me more about anxiety and depression and it opened my eyes then I learned my mother seen psych way back to 1961.
  
• I was diagnosed with GAD the same day the tremor was noted in my file. At 36. They didn’t occur together (a doc at 19 suggested the same but I didn’t understand depression/anxiety/genetics at the time)
  
• I’ve been medicated for GAD and ADHD but even prior to medications, I had a tremor that exasperated as mentioned above. It’s to the point strangers now ask if I’m “cold” or “is something wrong?” It’s embarrassing.
  

It’s in my tongue, neck, lips, hands, heck my entire body. I was given a CT that was “urgent” but urgent here means a year. Good ol universal healthcare.
Thyroid cleared Wore a libre to check two week glucosamine because blood work shows 3.2 upon results. It’s deemed nocturnal hypoglycaemia and not much adjusting my eating schedule helps.
I’ve looked at so many possibilities but even m thorough np is lost. She also noted I have a pupil not reacting to light properly (yet hard to know if due to strambus from birth and not caught prior. (confirmed by Otho).
Everyone is working so hard. I have dedicated time to trying to help but it leads to too many possibilities. MS, plain old essential tremor to dang Lou Gehrigs. Having watched an unrelated loved one goibg through als as a kid, its terrifying.

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u/KieveKRS providing the Trash certification of quality! (with help from u/coldfireknight cuz this one needed it.)
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Nalah affixed the massive shield to her back, the rectangular form large enough for him to fit behind while only needing to crouch slightly. It was mostly ironwood, but the sides and front were metal-plated, so it still weighed a considerable amount. Despite that, the thing’s bulk hardly seemed to be noticed by the blonde-furred female, likely due to the constant construction work she involved herself in. It paired oddly with the long pike she insisted on using, but he couldn’t deny that poking at things while hiding behind a mobile wall sounded like a good idea.
Jax was wearing his new armour, the bulky chest-piece a mirror of his blond-furred pack mate’s. Though he forwent the protection a buckler or likewise would offer, he doubled up on gear. Gauntlets, vambraces, pauldrons, and anything else he could wear to compliment the massive axe he had taken a liking to.
Where Nalah was fitted to look like an apocalypse survivor—her protections limited to her torso, forearms, and shield—the black-furred male resembled a giant, if underfunded, paladin. All he needed now was some religious imagery and a penchant for exalting the qualities of their god. Joseph almost nudged the guy to suggest it for kicks.
On second thought, he decided that Jax absolutely did not need a reason to start yelling about the Human-turned-religious-figure, because there was no way in hell he wouldn’t. There was no telling what he would choose to say, and the Grand Hunter was perfectly happy never knowing.
Having been with the male as long as he had, it would probably involve ‘taming’ females or something else that would leave him groaning for weeks, if not just contemplating another high-dive from the cliff.
Joseph fixed his own equipment, the ‘Wraith armour’ worn over his own thin iron breastplate. He wasn’t thrilled to wear the extra weight, but it beat being mauled by the thing they were heading out to kill. The trips so far had been tolerable, fog and overcast skies keeping the temperature in check, but he didn’t want to go out in this on a hotter day as Summer really kicked back in. He was sweaty enough without baking inside all this crap.
He adjusted the wolf-skull mask, the rest of the hunting party having gotten over the worst of the unease it gave them. Though they’d needed to rotate people out for the sake of fairness, this would be their eighth consecutive scouting. Using the information that Raine and Faye provided, they narrowed down a likely stomping grounds for the creature and were systematically clearing sectors. It might have been discouraging to keep looking after so long, but the occasional marking on trees and the odd moss-wolf corpse tipped them off that they were getting close. There was still another week’s worth of searching left if today wasn’t the day, but somehow he doubted they wouldn’t need that long.
All in all, they numbered six; larger parties were attempted, but their efforts at stealth quickly became pointless between so many trudging through the forest and stopping for breaks. There was a bit of a scare where one of Mi’low’s pack went missing, but the guy had just stopped to relieve himself. Since the discovery was made by someone else knocking him over in the process by mistake, they decided that keeping the number smaller made communication easier. And lowered the amount of grumbling about needing a bath.
Jax, Nalah, two security members, one of the hunters, and him. Sure, grabbing Tel or the Wraiths would have been a bit more useful for cohesion, but they were all busy with things, and he didn’t want to grind everything in the settlement to a halt for nothing if the search turned up empty again. They were more suited to taking out their fellow Lilhun than some monster in the woods, as much as he disliked the thought.
Scarlet was spending a lot of time with Violet and the new Atmo, Faye was spending much of her recovery with the moss-wolves and moss-pup, and Tel was in the process of helping Harrow shore up the few security members that were slated to become snipers. Kaslin was still learning chemistry with Toril, and Raine was helping whoever needed a hand, so that marked off all of his usual accompaniment. He could have taken more of his direct pack, but they all had important things to take care of as well.
Sahari was managing the pack and putting people where people needed to be put, Pan was working with Idee and Heralt to make a line of armour for the whole pack, and Mi’low was...well, Mi’low. He was pretty sure she was unofficially the master of the hunter’s lodge and spent most of her time keeping track of what came in and out of it, while also making sure that everyone got their fair share. It needed to be done with the settlement growing as much as it had, and it kept Mi’low busy enough to stymie the flow of complaints, so he wasn’t about to complain.
They double checked that they had everything that was needed; food, water, arrows, bolts, and some bags to store anything that the snares had caught on the way back. Four ranged and two melee weapons meant that they would be mostly using Jax and Nalah to soak hits if it came down to it, the others peppering it with projectiles. Given that Harrow was insistent on the bear-thing being resistant to anything they could use at a distance, they also carried spare weapons for the ranged users, just in case. Nodding, Joseph gestured to the group finishing up their preparations for the day’s trip.
“A moment, sir?” Scarlet called to him as she approached the gate, the Wraith flanked by Rose and Cobalt. The two Atmo were decked-out in their own armour, which appeared to be almost entirely metal, save for the palm lining the inside for comfort. Each of their six legs were adorned with broad shields, their bases capped off with a flat storage carriage. They looked like someone had a little too much fun testing how much the insects could effortlessly carry and had ended up with sapient hexapedal tanks.
“Only if you explain why those two would look more at home if they had cannons installed on their backs,” he quipped, an expression somewhere between surprised, amused, and plain dumbfounded plastered on his face. The blackish red-furred female smirked for a split-second before resuming her usual servile presentation.
“The young mistress had extended her request for these two to accompany you.”
Joseph tilted his head incredulously. “Violet told you to send them?”
Scarlet nodded, gesturing to the outfitted Atmo. “They have been under her tutelage for some time now, and wish to be of assistance.”
The Grand Hunter snapped his mouth closed when he was about to ask why his daughter would teach them anything that might be useful for fighting a deadly beast. Of course she did; It was one of the first things he did for her. It would have been weirder for her not to pass on what she knew after all the hours she spent either seeing him coach the others, or being coached herself. With the time she had under her belt, she was the local Atmo Close Quarters Combat specialist, and no one else understood how the modified boxing she learned worked with their bodies like she did.
He wore a hesitant expression, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Well, they’ve certainly geared up.”
“It is a product our smith is rather proud of,” the Wraith affirmed confidently.
He exhaled slowly. “Seems a bit much.”
She seemed to be expecting the remark, barely pausing to register what he said before responding. “Your kit wishes you safe, yet understands you would not allow her to accompany you. These two wish to be of assistance.”
To punctuate her point, the two nodded in agreement, walking forward and slinging some of the backpacks onto their carriages. It seemed ‘no’ wasn’t something they were going to accept after Violet had said her piece. He sighed, conceding that they wouldn’t slow the party down with everyone carrying so much weight in equipment, regardless of the bags. They took breaks frequently enough to accommodate the Atmo, so that wouldn’t hinder anything either.
“Fine,” he relented with a wave of his hand. “We’ll take them. Not like they’d hurt anyway. But–” He put a warning into his tone. “–they’re not playing the hero and getting themselves killed. This isn’t going to work if they think any of us dying is still a net positive, got it?”
The two Atmo mimed their understanding, Scarlet replying with a victorious smile. Joseph couldn’t help but bemusedly roll his eyes. The female had taken rather well to baby-sitting, and that seems to have extended to humouring the young Queen’s schemes now. It wasn’t an unwelcome addition to their little sojourn. At least they could haul back any larger game without it tacking hours onto the return trip.
He thanked Scarlet for her trouble before dismissing her, confirming with the group that everything was accounted for, and set off before it grew too late. He wasn’t looking to get caught out in the woods during the night. The Lilhuns might be fine, but he was pretty well blind unless the moon felt generous.
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Jax watched the two Atmo quietly follow on the sides of the group, their heavily armoured forms posing no issues with their naturally soundless movements in the forest. In the den, they would make moderate clacks and clicks as their chitinous legs contacted the ground, but the soft dirt and foliage stifled all but the smallest report of their travel. With Scarlet supervising alongside Violet, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the former Blade had influenced their movement with the goal in mind, though he had never paid much attention to how they walked before to compare.
He had to admit, having them carry the additional equipment was exceedingly useful. He had proposed having the group use the newly acquired platforms on their more arachnid-like abdomen to rest in shifts, but Joseph was quick to insist that the insects were of lesser stamina than even Lilhuns. The phrasing seemed like a comparative insult, but Jax had more than enough experience with the Human to know that he had simply spoken his mind. To him, everyone had sub-par stamina. Training had gone some way to remedy the discrepancy, but the Grand Hunter could still continue for longer than even the most well-conditioned of them.
The black-furred male rolled his shoulders, feeling the heft of his axe shift with the movement. It was an impressive size, the weight well-balanced and its edge sharp. He had once laid it to the ground out of curiosity and confirmed that it was about as tall as Pan from head to haft, though only if she stood to her full height. Regardless of its size, it was still lighter than the armour he chose to don.
Having only really worn leathers or a few sets of ironwood protections, the encumbering prominence of the iron equipment took getting used to. It wasn’t entirely restrictive, but did put a damper on any chances he had of sprinting from danger. That was fine, he supposed, since he was wearing it against a beast he had no experience with. It could very well outrun him regardless, and he would rather have the defences in either case.
Nalah seemed to be doing fine, the large barrier she kept on her back swaying slightly as she walked. She was unhindered by it, her movements barely affected by the bulk, which was reassuring. Joseph, however, seemed to be panting more than usual, the rolling cloud coverage easing as the sun progressively warmed the environment. The fog from earlier meant that it was rather humid, and that seemed to bore no well wishes for the male encased in dark leathers and thick plates. He had even flipped down his hood, the sweat beading on his skin adding a sheen to his visage.
“I liked this better when the sun didn’t exist,” the Human lamented quietly, just loud enough for Jax to hear. The black-furred male chuckled.
“It would be rather dark.”
Joseph glared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “I just don’t rank ‘heavily armoured hike through the woods’ high up on my list of things I want to do regularly.”
“I believe that list would be occupied by your mates, no?” he ribbed playfully, a smirk arising when the Grand Hunter shunted his eyes closed in a grimace.
“I hate you.”
“I can see your smile underneath your displeasure, Joseph,” Jax quipped, nudging the male with his elbow, then giving an apologetic smile when his friend almost fell. Joseph sighed, waving Cobalt over and fetching a water-skin from the luggage that the insect was ferrying without breaking stride—though he needed to be careful not to get stepped on.
The Atmo always amused Jax. Be it their passive demeanour hidden by their towering stature, or his interactions with the den-kit, they never failed to be curious people. Having the two that accompanied Volta with them was an unexpected development, but he couldn’t claim to disapprove. If they had been imparted the methods of combat that Violet had cultivated, then there was little worry of them being harmed by naught but perhaps their current target. At least not until there was a better reference of its strength than the single encounter the first-years had so long ago.
At the time, it had smashed pillars and pierced flesh effortlessly, claws proving to be little more than tempting ministrations of tender touch to the thick hide. Jax only had some of the pack’s recount to base the experience off of, but was content to take their word for it. He was, ashamedly, preoccupied taking care of baser needs when the event transpired, so he was woefully unprepared for the eventual encounter. Still, he was afforded the best the settlement had to offer so that he might serve his duty of protecting the Grand Hunter. Harrow would never forgive him if only he returned.
His thoughts were disturbed by Joseph calling for a rest, Jax’s legs thankful for the break from supporting the unusual weight for so long. The Human dispensed rations and water for the pack, the Atmo waiting until everyone else was supplied before accepting their portion. They rested on their base directly, instead of curling their legs beneath them like Jax had become accustomed. Perhaps the armour impeded such, or they wished to remain mobile in the event such was required. Regardless, they blocked what little breeze there was, forcing the Grand Hunter to walk beyond them to enjoy it in the shade. It was short-lived however, as Rose quickly repositioned to stay between the pack and whatever lay beyond their protections.
It was a futile effort, it seemed, because it repeated again twice before Joseph groaned loudly and threw himself atop the carriage to lay back, his legs dangling at the knee. He seemed perfectly content with the unorthodox arrangement, snorting his amusement along with a muttered comment about a ‘taxi.’
The entertaining sight was marred by a distant yelp, snapping the group to attention. Jax and Joseph traded looks, subtle nods and gestures given to move out while remaining quiet. Ignoring his earlier complaints, the Grand Hunter flicked his hood up and donned the mask, drawing his crossbow and readying a bolt. The hunter of the pack mimicked the preparation, the two security members loosely nocking their arrows while Rose, Cobalt, Jax, and Nalah took point.
They proceeded quietly for far longer than the proximity of the noise would have suggested, but marks and gashes upon the trees implied a moving conflict. Thoughts of it being a lost cause quickly became moot as a closer growl and bark shattered the careful silence they had been maintaining.
Motioning for the pack to stop, Joseph waved Jax forward, Nalah approaching the other side. Using the large shield as additional cover, they peered around a particularly thick tree. Locked in combat were two moss-wolves, both attacking a truly massive grey creature.
Twice the Human’s height, half that in width. Four pillars as legs—the muscular trunks sinewy and defined—supported the disturbing hunched figure, the wide base tapering slightly into a thick and extended torso. A singular eye-stalk replaced the head, the ocular organ atop it pitch black and free of any indication of its focus. Four arms with deadly claws parried and sliced the two yellow beasts as they attempted to drive off the predator, a sickeningly large maw gaping to catch any attempts at a lunge. The mouth of the creature almost occupied the entirety of the available surface area upon its front, the jagged bone tools of manduction undulating with the promise of sustenance.
Joseph pulled them back, cursing under his breath as he tried to fight off the tension. From Nalah’s worried expression, it seemed his caution was rather potent, the other members of the group smelling his reaction as well.
“So, what’s the plan, Jax?” the Human whispered, his grip on the crossbow alternating with his fingers stretching across the trigger lest his fidgeting cause a misfire.
“I thought that, with your record, you would wish to tame it for the settlement,” Jax replied while thinking through a plan of action. He was glad that his friend trusted him, but he wished he had known the true scale of the beast prior. Joseph grit his teeth, turning to glance past the tree again with sarcasm pouring out of his response.
“Can’t quite see Winnie-the-woodchipper there playing great with kids.”
“You say that after adopting an Atmo as kit, Grand Hunter,” he returned, nodding to himself when a plan formed. The Human smiled, the banter easing the tension somewhat. “Rose, Cobalt, you two are the most well defended of us. Circle around and drive the beast this way. You should be capable of such without noise, yes?”
The two insects nodded, emptying their luggage behind a tree so as not to lose any of it before disappearing into the trees. The slight glimmer of their iron armour was the only indication of their position through the dense forest. Jax hoped that the beast was not particularly curious about the dimly pulsing glare, nor finished with its current altercation in time to impede the pair.
Satisfied with their progress, he motioned for the two security members to scale a tree and gain a superior vantage point. Their weapons would be able to maintain a more rapid pace of sustained fire at longer ranges. Joseph and the hunter were instructed to hide behind trees nearby, though the Human would need to remain grounded as his lack of claws made scaling the large flora difficult with his equipment.
Finally, Nalah and he positioned themselves much closer, in order to flank the creature as it fled the Atmo and occupy it long enough for the others to bleed it out, if not outright dispose of it.
With the forms of the Atmo peeking through the brush opposite them, Jax raised his axe to signal the start.
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Joseph felt the hammering in his chest, his heart preparing him to fight for his life against the walking abomination that easily outclassed the only other predator that he had experience with. Sure, the moss-wolves were easy to take down once you had equipment and a plan, but that thing screamed danger.
He watched Jax and Nalah set up behind thick trees, their goal being for Jax to hopefully disable a leg or two with the war-axe while Nalah occupied it with the shield. As the two strongest members of his little family, he trusted both to do their job.
As a clusterfuck of animal and torture device, he had no faith in the creature playing along.
Swallowing his hesitation, he adjusted his grip on the crossbow again, mentally tallying his shots and cursing himself for not researching explosives. Sure, Toril didn’t want to be involved in that kind of weapon, but at the moment, the tailless white-furred male could suck it up and make one anyway. Joseph would give his left nut to see how quickly the chemist would make weapons of mass destruction just to annihilate whatever that thing called home.
Jax raised his axe, glinting the sunlight of it towards the Atmo. Receiving the start signal, the two clicked and loosed a deafening screech, the Human’s ears ringing even from this distance.
The beast seemed unperturbed by the noise, though the lack of visible ears may have had something to do with the lacklustre effect. Regardless, it did notice the two armour-clad insects charging at it, and smartly decided to extradite itself from the area. The moss-wolves, however, didn’t quite get the memo, mistaking the advancing assistance as yet another foe to defend themselves from.
He had to say, Violet taught the two well. They flashed their blades out in the same flicker jab that he had shown his daughter, and with an unceremonious squelch, the two bisected canines landed in four pieces, a vibrant green ichor now staining the weapon-like appendages of the Atmo. Undeterred by their first act of violence—as far as he was aware, anyway—they continued herding the beast.
It wasn’t as fast as they might have feared, its quadrupedal gait hindered by its proportions, but it was still quick enough to be damn intimidating. Its arms acted as a counter balance, constantly adjusting this way and that just to keep it stable. That thing was clearly never meant for sprinting, all its mobility being given to the overactive maw that pulsated with the exertion.
He readied his crossbow, the shaking in his hands not ruining his aim against such a large target. He eyeballed the distance between the creature and the ambush point, forcibly moving his finger off the trigger so that he didn’t fire early.
Closer. Come on. Almost.
Now.
Jax wound up like a particularly enthusiastic lumberjack, putting his full body into the rotation. The massive axe swung like a horizontal pendulum striking home with all the finality of a clock tolling midnight. It bit into the front leg of the beast, only sinking a few inches before momentum nearly wretched the weapon from the black-furred male. Luckily, the force and timing was enough to trip it, the creature crashing to the forest floor with a deafening roar of pain.
They could hurt it. That made him feel better.
His relief evaporated as the beast swiftly recovered, hauling itself from the ground faster than he thought possible, but his archers took it for an unspoken signal. Arrows and bolts peppered its thick hide, to no effect—it shrugged off the projectiles like they were nothing more than pine needles, none sinking far enough to gain notable purchase.
Jax hefted his axe for another strike, careful not to over-commit this time. Nalah prodded the beast wherever she could with her pike, the melee weapon sliced and skewered just past the surface of the hide, though not enough to do more than marr. It was, however, enough to gain the attention of the target, the creature swinging two of its four arms to rake across the shield that the blond-furred female held. The iron plating across the front let out an unearthly shriek as claws ripped and crumpled the metal.
Well, fuck.
Nalah was quick to react, treating the shield less as an immovable barrier and more like a slight distance buffer, dodging in and out of range to steal jabs with the polearm. The security members nocked another volley, picking different targets than before. An arrow bounced harmlessly off the black orb of an eye, another finding purchase in what passed for gums in its mouth.
The hint was received; aim for the mouth. Thankfully, that was a large target. Less thankfully, it realized that flashing its teeth was detrimental to its health, slamming the maw closed.
Jax managed another swing, this time into one of the rear legs. It wasn’t as effective as the first strike, but it did warrant a sweeping double back-fist from the creature, scoring Jax’s armour with shallow claw marks as he jumped backwards. Joseph let out a breath as he fired his second shot, only just narrowly missing the sliver of a gap between razor teeth that the enraged attack afforded. It couldn’t keep its mouth shut forever, each frenzied swipe pulling its form enough for glimpses of softer flesh within to appear. The hunter dropped from their tree, darting across to reposition for a wider angle to capitalize on. The creature noticed, lunging forward to eviscerate the easier target.
Joseph blinked as two armoured figures jumped in front of the Lilhun, raising their blades in a tight guard to block the four arms grabbing for a quick meal. The beast recoiled with a thunderous screech, two of its appendages sporting deep gashes that fountained blood, while the others managed to impact above the edged outside of the blades. Rose and Cobalt pressed forward, buying time and space for the hunter to collect themselves and scale up another perch. Taking advantage of its pain, two new arrows ripped through the air, smacking into exposed inner flesh. Two new protrusions joined the first in the mouth, one landing next to the existing projectile, while the other cleared the gateway of serration, driving deeply inside of it.
More flicker jabs and extended straights pushed and cut the beast as it tried to gain distance from the two that wounded it, every retaliatory strike earning it another gash in its grey hide.. Unencumbered by the constant barrage, Nalah thrust into its legs more vigorously, her body leaning into each attack to gain every inch of penetration she could into the muscle and thick hide.
Jax used the chance to score another chopping blow, doubling down on a previous wound to a back leg—striking bone this time, based on the unholy wail the beast uttered. Joseph raised his crossbow to land another shot into its mouth, but the beast flailed wildly to fend off the ambush.
Rose managed to block, Jax lunged backwards, Nalah deflected most of it with what remained of her shield, but Cobalt was caught by a strike, taking the hit to its torso. The Atmo flew backwards, rolling when it landed, the carriage and assorted armoured plates trailing behind it. Rose shifted instantly, covering the direction that their companion had been sent while Jax and Nalah focused on pulling the beast away from the downed combatant.
Joseph’s eyes flicked to the Atmo, waging an internal battle on whether helping the insect would be better or worse for the situation as a whole. He didn’t want to lighten up their assault if it would just mean more injuries, but Cobalt could be in dire need for a patch job. It was hard to tell from where he was.
Cursing, he bolted from his spot, firing off one last round into the gaping maw before clipping the crossbow onto his armour and sliding on his knees in front of Cobalt, healroot hastily retrieved from his pocket.
He paused, sighing in relief when none of the armour bore more than deep gashes, the carapace underneath unblemished by the attack. Cobalt clicked lightly, dazed, but otherwise seeming unhurt. Unlearned in the physiology relevant, he ushered the Atmo to remain out of the fight for fear of concussion or something similar. They could look at the insect back at the base to be sure later.
“Joseph!”
His head spun around at both Jax and Nalah screaming his name, a massive clawed hand sweeping at him—the monster's approach unnoticed while he focused on Cobalt. Lacking a better option, he lunged forward towards the underside of the beast to dodge the swipe, crashing to his shoulder on the dirt below.
The creature raised a leg above Joseph, pounding the earth scant inches from his head as he rolled sideways. Ignoring the kicked up dirt, he brought his fist to the underside of the beast, flicking the release on his bracer.
Blood spouted from the newly formed wound, the blade breaking at the mechanism as the massive animal lurched in pain, Joseph rolling out of the way of another attempted trampling. He scrambled to his feet, feeling the wind of another strike narrowly missing him.
Yeah, that would probably kill him.
Luckily, the injuries renewed the desire to flee in the monstrosity, the group of attackers proving too dangerous to continue challenging. It stumbled away from them, sparing Cobalt from its panicked trudging. Jax and Nalah started to run towards him, worry evident in their eyes, but he barked for them to finish it, redirecting the two to keep the pressure going. He didn’t want to mention the pain in the arm from where the bracer hitched. It didn’t feel broken, and thus was irrelevant.
Pressure applied, the grey beast picked a random direction free of opponents to escape, ignorant of the waiting security. When it was too close for them to shoot into its mouth at a decent angle, they slung the bows over their shoulders and drew the swords they had been afforded, patiently waiting with the blades turned down.
It passed below them, the two Lilhuns dropping from the branches to put their full weight into the plunging blades. Both landed on the large target, one sword sinking deep into a shoulder, while the other managed to pierce one of its hip joints. The beast spun haphazardly to dislodge the ‘new’ threats, both security members kicking off and finding new trees to set up in.
Whatever damage was actually done, it had lost the use of an arm, and its gait shifted awkwardly as the blade lodged in its hip worked more harm with each shambling step.. Emboldened, Jax picked up the pace, struggling to position himself with the amount of metal he wore. Ducking another swipe of its claws, he saw his chance and swung, pivoting with his axe as a counter weight. For the third time, his axe blade found the wound in its leg, adding a sickening crunch as the bone snapped from the impact.
The creature swung wildly, forced to favour its two remaining good legs, and the only other leg that could still support at least some of its weight. It was unstable now, the hunched figure swaying while unmoving. Unable to run, it decided to go down with as many of them as it could.
Rose caught up with the attack, drawing attention from the comparatively squishy Nalah as the blond-furred female deflected a wayward swing with her shield. The once iron-plated ironwood now sporting little more than jagged scraps of metal atop its silver wooden structure, a series of deep gouges marring the surface. Two lunging thrusts with the pike bit flesh, drawing new blood from the beast.
Joseph loaded his crossbow, getting off two bolts, but not managing to keep it steady enough to hit anything of use, his arm faltering under the weight of the weapon. Cursing, he decided to flank the beast and try his luck with the other bracer. If nothing else, the force in which the blade deployed was enough to pierce the thick hide, and the others were doing a good job of distracting it.
The red armoured Atmo let loose a series of directed swings, the fifth severing an arm in motion, the flying appendage forcing Nalah to raise her shield to block the unorthodox projectile. The female was sent sprawling from the weight of the impact, but the beast was too busy voicing its agony to take advantage of it. Jax worked another two chops into the broad legs, but neither managed to incapacitate it any more, and the prolonged exertion was slowing his reflexes.
As if cued into his waning energy, the beast flung Jax with another strike, the hunter of the group sinking a bolt deep into the cavernous flesh of its mouth to prevent an attempt at following up.
Joseph roared, desperate to finish it off before the creature could do the same to his downed pack. He sprinted at the monster's back and slid underneath it with as much speed as he could muster. Throwing his fist into the passing undercarriage, he let the deployed blade leave a long gash in its wake.
The grey monster lost its ability to stand, torn tendons, blood loss, and inflicted injuries taking their toll. The Grand Hunter kicked off his knees to fling himself out of the way of the collapsing figure, grimacing as the remaining bracer proved unable to support the abuse he had put it through. He looked back at the beast, the flailing body failing to right itself as teeth did little more than gouge dirt, its back exposed. Rose approached, raising their blades together and plunging it through the body over and over until it stopped moving.
Exhausted, the Atmo dropped where it was, breathing heavily. Joseph’s instinct to yell their victory was delayed as he hurried over to Jax and Nalah to confirm he didn't need to bring back bad news. Nalah seemed fine, if a bit sore from hitting the dirt and rolling, while Jax just asked to lay down when he heard that everything was over. Cobalt came over to the group, the armour that had come off collected atop the carriage it had managed to loosely affix to its base.
It was light, a chuckle originating from the Human as he slumped to the ground against a tree, but soon the entire group was roaring with laughter as victory settled in their minds. The two security members helped the hunter begin disassembling the beast, their contribution to the fight leaving them with more energy than the rest. They hadn’t been slacking off, that much was certain. The number of arrows jammed into the maw of the thing would have guaranteed a few extra seconds of survival and chances to escape if one of them had been forcibly tossed into there, and it had caused enough pause for the rest of them to get in a few hits up close.
Joseph rested across from Jax and Nalah, letting his heart rate slow from the rapid pace it had been pinned to since the start of the conflict. His arm continued its protests, but from the amount of movement he still had, he guessed that he had just strained the elbow. A few days taking it easy should straighten that right up.
Once the active members were about half way through processing the creature for hide and meat, Cobalt approached him, a mimed request for assistance putting their armour back on being redirected to Nalah since he doubted he could lift the damn pieces without hurting himself at the moment. She obliged, getting the blue Atmo back in full attire, though it took a while.
Rose stood first, stopping over to allow the hunter to place collected bits and pieces onto the carriage before securing it with whatever they could make due. A security member gathered the moss-wolf corpses for a similar treatment. Waste not, want not, he supposed.
Rose ended up carrying most of their spoils. When he was about to ask why, he, Jax, and Nalah were dragged to Cobalt and hefted onto the carriage. A series of confused questions revealed that the rest wanted to head back before it started getting dark, and it was pretty obvious who was the most exhausted of them. Lacking the will or energy to argue it, he flopped back on the Atmo as the trees passed them by, Nalah resting her legs across him as her head sat on Jax’s lap. The black-furred male didn’t so much as smirk, so it was clear he had pushed himself too far to quip about the arrangement as he laid down.
“The next time you wish to exhaust me this much, Joseph,” the Head of Security started after a long while of silence, tiredness in his voice, “I would prefer it to involve my mate and a bed.”
The Human snorted, closing his eyes and enjoying the lack of walking as the surprisingly stable Atmo carried the three of them. “Fuck off, Jax.”
“Of course, Grand Hunter.”
Next
A/N: Patreon is fixed!... aka new one cuz problems with the last. Check it out to support the story, get AI character art every now and then, or even preview sections of chapters as i write them! (aka, before kieve gets to fix them :D)

Hello,
I’m using an alt account. I’ve been having attachment based psychodynamic therapy twice a week for 6 years with the same therapist.
I’ve always got in great with my therapist and found her very validating when we started working together. She’s literally the only person who has ever taken time to listen to me. (Mum died when I was very young).
I’m autistic and she is neurotypical. Often neurotypical people struggle to empathise with autistic people because we experience the world so differently. (I know the myth is that it’s autistics who lack empathy but this goes both ways).
Well a few years ago, I’d say 2021 it first happened she began occasionally not picking up that I needed my emotions validating but would launch straight in to problem solving. I guess she didn’t pick up that I was very distressed, I think because neurotypical rely a lot on body language rather that the exact words you are saying (at least this is my experience of neurotypicals).
Every time it happens I react angrily and feel very distressed. Childlike. I feel like I’m not given the space to feel distressed. She acknowledges she misattuned in these moments and apologises. Says she will reflect on it. But it keeps happening. Maybe I just don’t look upset enough on the outside? Or the tone of my voice is too flat?
This is not all the time. She gives me space when talking about my childhood bereavement and various other things. She validates my feelings in between these episodes.
I do wonder if it’s me placing unrealistic expectations on her. But it really hurts!
Any ideas what might be going on? For the first several years we worked together I was very unwell with anorexia and this started happening after I recovered.

Stand Name: The Meanest of Times
Namesake: album by the Dropkick Murphys
Localized Name: 「The Meanest of Years」
Stand User: Corbin "The Fuse" MacCaffrey-
Appearance: Standing at 6’2 with a limber build with grayed red hair in a small rat-tail ponytail, green eyes, a full fuzzy beard and mustache, numerous scars from bullet wounds and shrapnel, a tattoo of the words "Tiocfaidh ár lá" in all caps in a gothic font is written down his spine, and has two prosthetic running blade legs colored like the Irish flag. For clothes Corbin wears a black muscle-t, black flat cap, a black two-hole balaclava, a woodland camo military uniform with his jacket buttoned halfway, black sneakers, and black fingerless gloves.
Background: Corbin is a 59 year old man hailing from Donegal, Ireland who was an active IRA member during the Troubles and is now a mercenary under the employ of "Feel Good Inc.". Corbin is a very brash, zealous, and vulgar man who prides his Irish heritage greatly. But even still he is dedicated to the people he calls his friends and is very unshakable in his alliances, oaths, and what not.
Corbin was born into a very patriotic family who were very about their Irish pride and instilled this patriotism into Corbin who gradually adopted these beliefs. Corbin was a very street-tough getting into scraps at a very young age making him a bit of a fight seeker. But a calling came for Corbin in 1972 when Bloody Sunday, where British soldiers shot protesters who were protesting the internment of Irish nationalists, happened. Corbin was beyond outraged by this and at the age of 18 he signed up to join the IRA where he was trained as an urban guerrilla.
Through the course of 7 years of fighting in the Troubles, Corbin took part in bombings, shootouts, smuggling, propaganda, and a few assassinations that turned him into a zealot of a soldier willing to die for the cause. Though was an incident during a bombing in his 5th year of duty, when Corbin had set a shorter timer than expected and the explosion shredded his legs. One of his fellow soldiers got him to a hospital where the doctors had to amputate his legs. Corbin was surprisingly ok with this, if anything he was just mildly annoyed and was soon fitted with some running blade prosthetics. He adapted very quickly and was soon returned to the frontlines where even his lack of legs didn’t stop him fighting at his full potential.
However, the British army was closing in on Corbin and his fellow soldiers and decided to go into hiding in Dublin as even Corbin could see that the war wasn’t going in their favor. Corbin laid low for a long while even after the Troubles was over but still kept in contact with his IRA buddies. Though after years of laying low, Corbin grew restless and wanted to throw himself back into the fray. He then found an ad for "Feel Good Inc." where he became fascinated with their mercenary work styled as vigilantism and signed himself up. He was then brought on made a name for himself as a very experienced mercenary, who was proficient in explosives and urban combat and had claimed lots of contracts. This led to him being recruited into the "Demon Days Unit" which are FGI’s most elite mercenaries.
Corbin met the Captain of the DDU and got into a scrap with him when the Captain pulled out a very odd knife. Corbin caught the knife with his hand and the Captain immediately pulled it out and stopped fighting him to the confusion of Corbin. He became even more confused when the wound on his hand immediately vanished. And after the weirdest debriefing he had ever received talking about the concepts of "stands" and "stand users" Corbin eventually understood and passed the test to join the DDU.
Corbin has now been the crews demolitions man, blowing up anything that needs blowing up with absolute devotion to FGI’s cause. He may be a rather brash individual but he always be willing to put his life on the line to help his DDU friends.
Other Facts: •Favorite food is bacon and waffles •Is quite the party drinker, and tends to get wasted often •Favorite drink is whiskey •Has a hip flask at all times that he takes swigs from •Has an playlist on his phone that is just filled with Irish war songs •Favorite song is Come Out Ye Black and Tans
Stats: ACT 1-2-3
Power: C-B-A
Speed: C-B
Range: B
Durability: D
Precision: C-B
Potential: B-C-E
Appearance: ACT 1: Standing at 5’3 「The Meanest of Times」looks a robotic humanoid with a black welder’s mask with a green visor for a head, a slim brown body that’s scratched and dented, noticeable spikes where it’s feet should be which mimics Corbin’s prosthetics, rivets all over it’s body, and wears jean shorts and a brown leather vest.
ACT 2: Now standing at 5’8, TMT maintains a very similar appearance to ACT 1 with the welding mask with 2 green visored eyes and brown body, but it’s body is more athletic now. The rivets are now more symmetrically placed all over the body, with some on the knuckles for some added kick to punches. The spikes are now full on feet with poles acting as ankles and the stand now wears a shirt under it’s now buttoned up vest, regular jeans, elbow and knee pads, and a black belt with a clover buckle.
ACT 3: At it’s final height of 6’2 TMT is now more burly still maintaining the welding mask with a single bright green eye for a visor and it’s rivets now a bright gold. It’s legs now have ankles and it wears a grey shirt under a brown leather jacket with rolled up sleeves, a black flat cap, brown jeans, bandages to cover it’s exposed arms, more rectangular elbow and knee pads, two black leather belts worn in an x-fashion with golden cross buckles, and white sneakers.
Abilities: RC-XD: 「The Meanest of Times」has the ability to create a small remote controlled car in the style of a black Cadillac van with a C4 explosive inside of it. The van also has big wheels which are adhesive and let it drive on walls, a long antenna on the right side of it’s hood, and a dash-cam inside it as well. Through a electronic control pad that TMT summons, Corbin can control the van and see with dash-cam inside to maneuver it to it’s location and deliver a explosion. This ability modifies with each ACT.
ACT 1: Can create one small remote controlled van with a bomb in it with adhesive wheels that let drive on walls.
ACT 2: Can now create a remote controlled plane and boat variant for more versatility but can’t swap between the forms. The bomb has had an increase in power.
ACT 3: Can now make 3 remote controlled vans that can swap between their car, plane, and boat forms making them all-terrain. The bomb is now extremely powerful in this ACT.

The passage in question reads:
“For Adam was formed first, then Eve. 14 And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression. 15 Nevertheless she will be saved in childbearing if they continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control.”-1 Tim.2:13-15
One user asked:
”What can this possibly mean? Given that Paul has always been saying it(salvation) is through faith.”
A helpful user responded with an answer posited by John MacArthur. Mac, sensing that this passage was a threat to sola-fide(and rightfully so) springs into action and attributes the word “saved” to be referring to “salvation from a stigma” as opposed to it being about salvation from “sin” itself. Mac writes:
“Paul is not advocating that women are eternally saved from sin through childbearing or that they maintain their salvation by having babies, both of which would be clear contradictions of the NT teaching of salvation by grace alone through faith alone (Ro 3:19, 20) sustained forever (Ro 8:31–39). Paul is teaching that even though a woman bears the stigma of being the initial instrument who led the race into sin, it is women through childbearing who may be preserved or freed from that stigma by raising a generation of godly children (cf. 5:10).”
He concludes with:
“Paul is speaking in general terms; God does not want all women to be married (1Co 7:25–40), let alone bear children. if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint. The godly appearance, demeanor, and behavior commanded of believing women in the church (vv. 9–12) is motivated by the promise of deliverance from any inferior status and the joy of raising godly children.”
So Mac chalks it up to being salvation “from a stigma” or “deliverance from an inferior status” and leaves it at that. Problem solved, right?
Wrong.
Mac’s answer has only succeeded in kicking the can further down the road, for we see it rear it’s ugly head yet again in Paul’s letter to the Romans:
(Romans 2:6-7)
“God “will repay each person according to what they have done.” 7 To those who by persistence in doing good seek glory, honor and immortality, he will give eternal life.”
Well now we have a real problem. How could doing “good works” result in salvation? You see quick-fixes about damaged reputations may be able to plug one hole but it can’t plug them all. We only see this statement by Paul being doubled-down upon by St.John:
(Revelation 22:12)
““Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done.”
What can we do? We have already exhausted Mac’s “stigma” explanation so we may not return to that well. We must ask ourselves:
Is there ANOTHER way to understand Paul’s meaning in [1 Timothy 2:13-15]?
Yes, of course there is….and it’s the simplest thing in the world that the Catholic Church has been teaching for 2,000 years—we are NOT justified by our faith alone:
(James 2:24)
“As you can see, a man is justified by his deeds and NOT by faith alone.”
It is not enough to have faith but no deeds. No charity. For as Paul says:
(1 Corinthians 13:2)
“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”
That’s why Paul says a woman will be saved through child-bearing. He doesn’t mean “saved from a stigma” he means “saved from sin”. It’s not about having or not having children strictly speaking, just as it was never about what goes into your body:
(Matthew 15:11)
“What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.”
For God…it’s always about why you’re doing what it is that you’re doing. It’s always about that. If you wish to be saved then it’s not enough to have “faith alone”—you must combine your faith with works of charity. Therefore Paul’s use of the phrase “saved in child-bearing” is not a theological problem that needs to be solved. We just need to understand that Paul was connecting these “charitable works” to Christ, who enables us to do them:
(John 15:5)
““I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
[1 Timothy 2:13-15] is not about “stigmas” or “damaged reputations”. It’s not about any of those things. It’s about meriting salvation through the good works God causes us to do:
(Philippians 2:13)
“for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”
God causes us to “will and to act” and obeying these things will “save us”. We don’t need to solve this problem, we simply need to do these kind of works.

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John was bored one night and decided to get to work on something. He didn't know what exactly to do, so he decided to write a story since writing was one of his hobbies. However, John was so bored that he didn't even know what to write about, so that's when he gave up and went right back to bed staring at his vinyl record copy of The Best of Bread resting on his turntable. He was too lazy to at least make an attempt to drop the needle on the record and listen to some music. Instead, he just stared at the ceiling desperately wanting to do something great, but lacking the energy and motivation to do so; he needed some kind of incentive... John suddenly jolted not realizing that he had dosed off, so he decided to call it a night and close his eyes for good till morning. It was 12:37am...
Twisting, turning, and mumbling, John finally woke up not feeling too well, but it was only 2:00am. He stumbled to the bathroom like a blind drunk man to pee and wash his face. He was cold and shivering like a worried puppy trying to shake off the unpleasant dream that he woke from. After he washes his hands, he stares at himself in the mirror recalling the dream he just had...
A white middle aged man was mowing a lawn. The lawn looked like a small version of John's childhood home in Jonesborough Tennessee. The man was wearing a beige straw hat and had a smirk on his face while constantly wiping his sweat. There was no one else around, just the man mowing the lawn. There was something cold and unwelcoming about the lawn mowing man's presence. He never made eye contact with John, yet John felt as though he was looking at him. "But how?" John whispered to himself... The more John wondered that question to himself, the more hostile the presence of the lawnmowing man became. Still, the man never batted an eye at John, but gave the feeling as though he knew everything about John and was watching him like a Hawk... The lawn mowing man's smirk grew larger, more sweat began to pour from his face as he violently swatted his hands across his sunburnt forehead... Suddenly the ambience became louder and louder which resembled a chaotic orchestral crescendo and...
John suddenly snaps back to reality while still gazing at himself in the mirror; he smirks and tries to laugh the dream away, but there was just something so unsettling about the dream that words just couldn't describe. John desperately wanted to forget about the dream and was too scared to go back to bed fearing that the dream may reappear. He gets back in bed and stares at the ceiling once again but accidentally doses off...
John finally sleeps well until morning when he wakes up to briefly eat some cereal and then gets back in bed realizing he doesn't work on Saturdays... It was dark and raining, but no thunder or lighting, just rain. John hears the sound of a lawnmower revving. It comes in and out of audible range. He rolls out of bed like lazy lion and peeks out of the window only to see the lawnmowing man once again. This time however, the lawnmowing man waves with a normal looking smile on his face while politely hollering, "Hi John! How are ya?"
John suddenly springs upward on his bed like a petrified deer unable to move and process what's going on! "Oh crap, it's 2:00pm!" John says to himself feeling like the end of the world is at hand. John's mind slowly starts to wake up as he begins to relax remembering that he doesn't work on Saturdays. But nothing seemed to be able to ease him away from that dreadful dream. Nothing he did could shake that feeling off, it was almost as though the dream really did happen in some unearthly dimension or realm that the human spirit goes to while slumbering... But there it was again, the sound of the lawnmower slowly going in and out of audible range... John chuckles realizing that the active lawnmowing team outside was the reason he dreamed of a lawnmower in his dream... But what about the first dream? he thought to himself...
It was a beautiful sunny day and John wanted to take advantage of the day while also hoping to forget about the unpleasant dream he had. He ate a quick meal and dressed himself for an adventure to the grocery store. He had to pee before leaving, so he went to the bathroom to take care of business... While washing his hands, he stares at himself in the mirror and chuckles again trying to convince himself that it was just a normal dream. "It was literally just a dream about a man mowing the lawn, I mean how is that scary?" he said. "I mean, maybe I was feeling a little sick and that's why such a normal dream felt so terrifying. Oh well, it's normal. Let's go get some groceries and ice cream so that I can focus on that story I want to try to write this time tonight!"
John hits the road in his silver 2012 Mustang leaving nothing but dust and bad bad dreams behind. As he's driving through a suburban area, he notices a man in a beige straw hat mowing their lawn... John chuckles and says, "Haha, see? Totally normal!" John finally arrives at the local grocery store... John parks his Mustang when the sky suddenly turns grey as rush of pale clouds dim the skies. The grocery store looked rather ghostly and depressing. There were many old looking cars that resembled a 2002 Toyota Camry, some with rusting canopies and dirty hubcaps. Out in the distance of the lot, there was a lawnmowing team truck branded with a decal that read Straw Hat Lawncare...
John made his way into the the grocery store and felt a bitter welcome from everyone inside. Nobody glanced at John. Everyone in the store looked like depressed fish passing by each other. There was a Hispanic family talking Spanish. The father was wearing a green jersey and the mother was sporting a pink sweater with grey sweatpants. Their kids were following along while randomly touching items. John was Hispanic as well, but felt no connection around this family. That's when John started to notice that nobody made eye contact with him, even when he said "excuse me" to reach for something. Not the employees, not the local sheriff, not the old lady looking at flowers, nobody... Not that John wanted to be looked at or noticed, but there was something odd about this, almost as if everybody was purposefully told not to make any kind of contact with him. It was a feeling that was hard to explain.
John quickly grabs some groceries to rush over to checkout to test if the cashier would at least say hello or something. But to John's disappointment, the cashier did not even greet John when he set his items down on the checkout countertop. The conveyor belt squeaks every time it moves; it's movement seems so lifeless, just like the cashier... Still, no eye contact whatsoever, not even if he tried to make conversation. The cashier just looked down the whole time. John started to panic inside, something just didn't feel right. It's not all in my head! John thought to himself... John grabs his groceries and heads for the exit when he notices a dirty looking man wearing beige straw hat smoking a cigarette. This man happened to be the only person that glanced at John, but it wasn't a pleasant glance. The man had a grim look on his face... John started to get the feeling that everybody was on to him, and that even the people who were ignoring him were actually very aware of his presence.
John was a good guy, not a saint, but a good-hearted person. He's never caused any harm to anyone and has always been a respectful gentlemen. But why? Why does it feel like these people hate me for no reason? John thought to himself again. Although John was physically being ignored, he got the feeling that everybody was actually looking at him... John quickly paces towards his Mustang. His heart throbbing, muscles tightening, jaw clenching, head aching; John starts his car and glances around. He looks out his right window and sees the dull grocery store. He looks straight ahead and sees the lawnmowing team truck. He looks to his left and sees a man with a beige straw hat right next to the window. The man knocks looking like he was begging for money. John being good hearted lowers the window but the man speaks before John could do anything, "Your back tire is flat!" The man kept repeating the same phrase over and over as if having a flat tire was bad luck. The man reeked of whiskey and tabaco, he had no front teeth and looked like he was wired on methamphetamine or something. "Come on out here and look!" the man exclaimed. "That tire's lookin bad man, you gotta get that fixed. You got one of them spares?" "Yeah, I got a spare." John said. "I got this, don't worry about me." "OF COURSE I'm gon worry bout you brother, that's what we do round here!"
The man starts telling a story about his brother Phil who had a flat tire because he was being shot at by some thugs. The man's story seems to go on forever and John starts to tune out. John glances out in the distance over the man's shoulder; the man's voice begins to get muddled as John focuses on someone getting out of the lawnmowing team truck in the distance. His heart starts to race when he sees another man with a beige straw hat stepping out of the car, except this time, John felt a very hostile vibration. The man in the distance puffed a cloud of smoke when he quickly glanced towards John's way with an evil look on his face... John looks behind and sees another man with a beige straw hat just like the one from his dream. Oddly enough, this man waved and shouted, "Hello! Need some help?"
John's heart started to pound and he almost felt like fainting. Maybe it's just my anxiety. "I've got to go!" John told the whiskey breathed man and cranked on his Mustang. He peeled out of the parking lot like a rabbit fearing for it's life. He could still hear the whiskey breathed man crying, "Hey man! I just wanted to help!" The whiskey breathed man kept crying, "I just wanted to help man! I JUST WANTED TO HELP!!" Tears rolling down his face, down his now sad face, "I just wanted to help you DOOD!! Why? WHY this gotta happen to me man? WHY! Why man? Come on! I JUST WANTED TO HELP!! I just wanted to help! Ahh!! AHHH!!!"
John finally arrived back home and hurried out of his car into his house... Suddenly everything was quiet... Too quiet... Finally, peace. I just have to rest and forget about that dream I had. It's ok, that whiskey breathed man was just really high on meth, he didn't hurt me. I was just really freaked out, that's all. I hope that man will be alright. I feel kind of bad, I didn't want to leave him there all alone. He looked like he was a hurting man, could've used a little company. No, what am I thinking? He was just high. Why should I trust some random meth-head like that? Awe, he's alright. He's cool... I'm tired now, I'm just going to relax and see if I can start that story! Yeah, that'll cheer me up! It's just life, weird stuff happens! But what about... No, forget it... But why was I seeing men with beige straw hats all day like the man in my dream? Nah, I'm overthinking, it was just a hot sunny day today, duh... But what about all of those grim looking people at the store? I felt like they were on to me, like they were all in on it. Oh crap! Maybe they know about my dream! No way, that's not possible... But what if dreams really are connected to real-life? I mean, it's part of life after all... Nah, that's too weird, it's all in my head...
Suddenly, the sound of a 4-stroke engine starts revving... Grass? At this time? It's late evening. John crawls over to his window and sees a man in a beige straw hat cutting the neighbors lawn... "Ahh!!" John jolts upwards biting his nails. He crawls back to his bed and tries to once again justify what's happening... Suddenly, he smells cigarette smoke. "What's that smell?" he says... He slowly glances at a dirty light blue uniform and before he could make out what it is, a raspy voice 'declares, "WE"RE WATCHING YOU..." Another voice says, "WE'RE LOOKING AT YOU, HAPPY NOW?" Another voice answers that one, "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO DALE JERK! AH HAHA!" "YEAH, YOU'RE SO MEAN FOR LEAVING HIM BEHIND!" "DALE ERA UN BUEN HOMBRE..." Said a Spanish voice...
John slowly looked up and saw an extremely pale faced version of the cashier from the grocery store and still not making eye contact, but three inches away from John saying, "Hi honey, how are ya?" and then repeats the phrase over again, "I SAID HOW ARE YA HONEY? WHAT, CAT GOTCHA TONGUE? WELL I'LL FEED IT TO MUH CATS WHEN I GET HOME THEN! BET CHU DON'T HAVE THE DECENCY TO HELP OUT DALE WITH A LITTLE BIT OF FOOD, DO YA?" She kept shouting at John three inches away while still not making eye contact. "SO? HOW YA DOING HONEY? FIND EVERYTHING YA NEED? HAHAHAHA! YOU SU................
John wakes up again... It's 2:00am. Everything is quiet. Desperately trying to forget the bad dreams and the strange day at the grocery store, he finally decides to drop the needle on the Best of Bread vinyl record. The music is soothing. He begins to drift into slumber once again.
John sleeps in and wakes up at 2:00pm on Sunday, he doesn't work on Sunday's either. John realizes he never got the groceries that he actually needed, so he makes his way to the grocery store once again. on another sunny day. He pulls into the parking lot, but this time they sky stays sunny and blue. The lawn mowing team truck is gone. John makes his way inside the grocery store. This time, a jolly old man greets him as he walks in. "How are you doing young man?" Says the old man. "Fine, thank you." John replies. Today, everybody was acknowledging John and making him feel welcome. Lots of smiles and hellos. There was even another Hispanic family who smiled at John while crossing paths. Even the children seemed happy. Hmm, too suspicious. It's almost like they're watching me and know what happened yesterday.
John grabbed all the items he needed and headed for checkout. He approached the counter and was greeted by the same cashier from last time. This time she actually speaks to John... "Hey honey, how are ya?" Says the cashier with a cute smile. "Great, how are you? John replies. "Oh honey, I had such a busy day yesterday! First I had to go see my doctor because of my back pain, then my car ran out of gas and I had to tell my hubby to help me out. Then he starts going off on me about how these lawn mowing guys woke him up at 5 in the mornin' and I told him, honey, they just doin' they job. Oh honey, today is much better, it's a beautiful day and my back feels better." Something about this doesn't seem right... She knows... She knows and she's playing around with me... Everybody is... No, I'm just being paranoid. Forget it, today is a great day!
John makes his way back to his mustang with a kart full of groceries... "HEY DOOD!!" suddenly screams the whiskey breathed man from behind. "Whoa man, you scared me!" Says John. "Oh I'm sorry man, didn't mean to startle ya.. Hey, I noticed you got a spare tire now. Good job buddy! Hey listen man, I'm feeling happy today a.. a.. and I just want to give you my hat!" John looks at the beige straw hat... "Are you sure?" John asks. "Yeah man, go on and take it, it's time I let go of somethings in life. I'm trying to start a new life man and stay away from theses drugs out here man. You go on an take it, it has good luck man!" John accepts and takes the hat. The man smiles. John smiles. "Hey I'll see ya later DOOD!"
It's 12:37am and John is staring at the beige straw hat that the whiskey breathed man gave him... John lugged out his vintage 1970's typewriter and was finally in the mood to write. He knew what he wanted to start with, but just right before he was about to type the letter L with his ring finger, the sound of a 4-stroke engine starts revving...
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WERE LOOKING AT YOU. WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE. HOW YA DOING HONEY?