Hotels near monte carlo night club

[H] Over 350 games, including Monster Hunter: World, Deep Rock Galactic, Doom Eternal, Fallout 76, Deathloop [W] Street Fighter 6, Skyrim VR, Fallout 4 VR, other interesting VR games, TF2 keys, Will trade multiple games for high value games

2023.06.02 00:15 crypticcollaborator [H] Over 350 games, including Monster Hunter: World, Deep Rock Galactic, Doom Eternal, Fallout 76, Deathloop [W] Street Fighter 6, Skyrim VR, Fallout 4 VR, other interesting VR games, TF2 keys, Will trade multiple games for high value games

cryptid's Tradable https://barter.vg72d3/t/?filter=0,9,0
Steam
DEATH STRANDING
Praey for the Gods
Monster Hunter: World
Syberia - The World Before
Devil May Cry 5
Deep Rock Galactic
Orcs Must Die! 3
DOOM Eternal
Devil May Cry HD Collection
DEATHLOOP
Superliminal
Sable
GreedFall
River City Girls
Mafia: Definitive Edition
Baba Is You
Planet Zoo
Ion Fury
Ghostrunner
Gang Beasts
Wasteland 3
Besiege
Desperados III
Destroy All Humans!
Creaks
The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope
Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous - Enhanced Edition
DUSK
HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED™
SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle for Bikini Bottom - Rehydrated
Ghost of a Tale
Sunset Overdrive
AMID EVIL
House Flipper
Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes
The Last Campfire
Batora: Lost Haven
We Were Here Together
INMOST
Metro Exodus
Starbound
DARQ
Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
Kingdoms of Amalur: Re-Reckoning
Necromunda: Hired Gun
Fallout 76
The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos
Monster Sanctuary
Monument Valley
The Surge 2
Project Wingman
Dread Templar
Pumpkin Jack
Hedon Bloodrite
Monument Valley 2
Vagante
Second Extinction™
ECHO
The Long Dark
Surviving the Aftermath
Phoenix Point
The Falconeer
LIBERATED
Tribes of Midgard
Wingspan
Eldest Souls
Sonic Mania
Project Winter
DIRT 5
The Survivalists
Othercide
Carto
Intravenous
Heat Signature
The Henry Stickmin Collection
Descenders
ScourgeBringer
Miscreated
Monster Train
We Need To Go Deeper
Forgive Me Father
Shady Part of Me
UnMetal
DESYNC
Aragami
Timelie
Shortest Trip to Earth
People Playground
Black Book
Cube Escape Collection
Raji: An Ancient Epic
Sid Meier's Civilization VI
TOEM
Yes, Your Grace
Them's Fightin' Herds
Encased
Disciples: Liberation
Partisans 1941
Styx: Shards of Darkness
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Wizard of Legend
Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun - Aiko's Choice
Borderlands 3: Super Deluxe Edition
Kingdom Two Crowns
Grow: Song of the Evertree
Drake Hollow
Street Fighter V
FTL: Faster Than Light
Hellbound
Maid of Sker
Blacksad
WRATH: Aeon of Ruin
Fobia - St. Dinfna Hotel
Secret Neighbor
DmC Devil May Cry
Chicken Police
The Darkside Detective
Siege Survival: Gloria Victis
Greak: Memories of Azur
BioShock: The Collection
Just Cause 4 Complete Edition
Finding Paradise
Ultra Street Fighter IV
Duskers
Red Solstice 2: Survivors
Minoria
Roboquest
Sunless Sea
Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl
NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
Resident Evil Revelations
Call of the Sea
Blade Assault
I Am Fish
Nobodies
If Found
ATOM RPG Trudograd
PLANET ALPHA
Crown Trick
Raw Data
Pathway
SUPERHOT
Hammerting
OlliOlli World Rad Edition
Project Warlock
Hokko Life
Save Room - Organization Puzzle
In Sound Mind
Paradise Killer
Police Stories
HITMAN: Game of the Year Edition
Omno
Killsquad
Astronarch
The Serpent Rogue
XCOM: ULTIMATE COLLECTION
Legend of Keepers
Torchlight II
Due Process
Suzerain
Necronator: Dead Wrong
Before We Leave
Not Tonight
First Class Trouble
Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun
Shu
Everhood
Rebel Cops
Railroad Corporation
Bee Simulator
Hob
Tools Up!
Mind Scanners
Lacuna
CROSSBOW: Bloodnight
Beyond The Wire
Sundered: Eldritch Edition
John Wick Hex
PGA TOUR 2K21
Lumini
Nebuchadnezzar
Mad Experiments: Escape Room
Backbone
RAD
Orcs Must Die! 2
Voidigo
As Far As The Eye
Pawnbarian
Truberbrook
Black Future '88
Supraland
Ittle Dew
Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Pirates of the Sword Coast
Five Dates
Undead Horde
X Rebirth
Where the Water Tastes Like Wine
Conan Chop Chop
ELDERBORN
Farmer's Dynasty
Nowhere Prophet
Boundless
Orcs Must Die 2 - Complete Pack
Kill It With Fire
TOHU
Nex Machina
Rogue Heroes: Ruins of Tasos
SUPERHOT: MIND CONTROL DELETE
AI War 2
8Doors: Arum's Afterlife Adventure
Embr
Tooth and Tail
Hello Neighbor: Hide and Seek
Jurassic World Evolution - Deluxe DLC
Electronauts
Ring of Pain
Post Void
Blue Fire
In Other Waters
At Eve's Wake
Cosmonautica
Hoplegs
Super Magbot
shapez
Tower of Time
Retrowave
ADOM (Ancient Domains Of Mystery)
Morbid: The Seven Acolytes
Battlewake
The Golf Club 2019 Featuring PGA TOUR
Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Here Be Dragons
Mutant Year Zero: Road to Eden - Fan Edition
Pizza Connection 3
Sprint Vector
Lawn Mowing Simulator
Tyranny - Deluxe Edition
Cannibal Cuisine
Nimbatus - The Space Drone Constructor
Railway Empire
Midnight Protocol
Tales of the Tiny Planet
Emily is Away <3
The Doctor Who Cloned Me
The Lovable Rogues Pack
Nelly Cootalot: Spoonbeaks Ahoy! HD
Lust from Beyond: M Edition
Rustler
Unexplored
Hard Reset Redux
Shing!
Neon Chrome
FRAMED Collection
EarthX
Paradise Lost
Duke Nukem Forever
Duke Nukem Forever: Hail to the Icons Parody Pack
Epic Chef
Out of Space
Syberia 3
Surviving Mars
Hidden & Dangerous 2: Courage Under Fire
CivCity: Rome
Baby Dino Adventures
XCOM 2: Reinforcement Pack
Hero Defense
WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS - Ultimate Brawlers Pass
TaniNani
West of Dead
Möbius Front '83
Calico
Tacoma
The Way
112 Operator
This War of Mine
Lust for Darkness
shapez - Puzzle DLC
WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS
F1 2018
Evoland Legendary Edition
Aviary Attorney
Treasure Temples
Journey For Elysium
Levelhead
Golf Gang
The Walking Dead Onslaught Deluxe Edition
Army Men RTS
BATTLETECH - Shadow Hawk Pack
State of Mind
Rayon Riddles - Rise of the Goblin King
Explosionade
Deadly Days
Fling to the Finish
GRIP: Combat Racing
Desolate
ibb & obb - Best Friends Forever Double Pack
Radio Commander
XCOM 2: Resistance Warrior Pack
Hidden & Dangerous: Action Pack
Evan's Remains
Swords and Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
Effie
Paw Paw Paw
Iron Danger
The Amazing American Circus
GARAGE: Bad Trip
Railroad Tycoon 2: Platinum
AWAKE - Definitive Edition
Swag and Sorcery
Popup Dungeon
The Ambassador: Fractured Timelines
Cook, Serve, Delicious! 2!!
Between the Stars
Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
Amnesia Collection
Tropico 4 Collector's Bundle
Sid Meier's Railroads!
Star Vikings Forever
Syberia 3 Deluxe Edition with An Automaton with a plan DLC
Fury Unleashed
Moon Hunters
Treasure Hunter Simulator
Torchlight
Go Home Dinosaurs!
Fallout
GemCraft - Chasing Shadows
Layers of Fear (2016)
Cygon Customisation Pack
Corridor Z
Family Man
Yoku's Island Express
Guppy
WARSAW
Crying Suns
System Shock: Enhanced Edition
Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!
Railroad Tycoon 3
Vintek Customisation Pack
Terra Customisation Pack
Retimed
Divekick
X-COM: Complete Pack
Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Deluxiest Edition
ToeJam & Earl: Back in the Groove
1993 Space Machine
911 Operator
Brothers - A Tale of Two Sons
Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
Golf With Your Friends - OST
Chroma Squad
Click and Slay
Marooners
Guts and Glory
Driftland: The Magic Revival
Valhalla Hills
Jagged Alliance 2 - Wildfire
Blackguards
Broken Age
Roarr! Jurassic Edition
Hiveswap Friendsim
Beholder
Monaco
Soulblight
Telefrag VR
Ruins to Rumble
AI War: Fleet Command
Last Resort Island
Draw Slasher
Boreal Blade
Crash Drive 2
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Drawful 2
Orbital Racer
Oh My Gore!
A New Beginning - Final Cut
Patrician IV: Steam Special Edition
GameGuru Classic
Slinger VR
TRAUMA
Earth 2160
GOG
Wanderlust Travel Stories
submitted by crypticcollaborator to GameTrade [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 00:05 OceanSideDude Is it wrong if I can only flirt and be confident based on external factors of mine?

A few months ago, I was JACKED, full six pack showing, big shoulders and chest, lean and mean figure and defined chiseled jawline and face, and to top it off I had a lot of money, I could buy bottles of booze in the club, go on several dates a week, go to expensive restaurants, VIP cinema, etc etc
I felt on top of the world, I thought I was a sexy successful beast and so did the girls I was with, my confidence and energy was contagious and I may have even been a bit arrogant
Well, around 3 months ago I had some minor health complications in my neck and some wisdom tooth that had to be removed and it was very costly (yay America) and completely put me out of the gym for months
I now have around 50% of the savings I used to have, and my body, while still kinda muscular, nowhere near as big, impressive or shredded as before, my abs are gone and my face looks soft and chubby
And due to my money situation I can’t really buy drinks for every girl every time or go out that often
A few nights ago I tried night game again and HOLY SHIT, it’s like I was a whole different level, the music seemed louder, women scarier and other men more dominant and intimidating than me
Is it wrong that my confidence only came from external factors and wasn’t really coming from within?
If I has internal TRUE confidence, in theory I’d had no problems having dates now, but that’s not the thruth
submitted by OceanSideDude to moreplatesmoredates [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 23:22 Trash_Tia My college's cheer squad have too much school spirit. In fact, I think they're going to kill me.

If I had to pick an embarrassing moment which will haunt me until I die—it has to be the time I tried out for The Sunbeam cheer squad last year. I was a freshman, and I wanted community. Friends.
I heard the cheer squad were just an extra-curricular group rather than an actual majoring level class, so I figured I’d give them a shot. It’s not like I could ignore them.
On my first day when I was moving into my dorm room, I must have walked into the same girl three times. I am in strict belief that it is not possible for a human being to be permanently happy.
And yet that was her. She wandered around like the sun shone right out of her ass, and it was both endearing and terrifying.
The girl resembled the sun herself, a halo of golden curls held in a scrunchie and a flaunting sundress, matching ribbons wrapped around her. The Sunbeam Squad were easy to spot because they were all wearing insanely bright yellow—waving around gold streamers, ribbons tangled in their hair. They all spoke in insanely high pitched voices like they inhaled helium for a living, but that must have been their shtick, right? It was kind of cute. I wasn’t expecting such a welcome in the shape of guy’s and girl’s looking like they had just stepped off of ABC Kids. The girl who handed me a flyer and yelled in my face about school spirit was practically hopping up and down, a bright grin splitting her lips apart.
I nodded and smiled politely, stuffing the flyer in my bag and heading into my room to finish moving my stuff in. When I looked out of my window a few hours later, the Sunbeam squad was still threaded through the crowd, each of them wrapped in glittering fairy lights illuminated in the late evening sunset glow. Sunbeam. Yeah, I got it, but it was still kinda overkill. They were starting to remind me of a cult.
That, however, didn’t stop me trying out. I’m fairly athletic, and they were exactly what I wanted. I’ve never had a group of people I could call friends.
Though it’s not like I could blame anyone but myself. I was a shut-in for most of high school. I either worked or preferred my own company in my room. One of my biggest regrets is pushing people away, friends I wanted to get even closer to. Because now they had built these lifelong friendships and relationships, and I was stuck at 18 years old with nobody but childhood friends I spoke to once a year when we sent mutual holiday greetings to each other. But college could change that.
At least, that’s what I hoped. I spoke to as many people as possible on my first day—and in my head I was making them. Slowly but surely I was actually making friends in my classes I wanted to hang out with.
Sunbeam were my attempt to go even further and join a club. Through word of mouth in my first few weeks of classes, I learned they were more of an extra-curricular group for fun.
They didn’t cheer competitively and had been formed in the mid-90’s by some kids who wanted to make a community out of positivity and school spirit. Sunbeam had a reputation for being Watson State student body’s beacons—and their team’s good luck charm. It was well known across campus that the squad was the reason behind the college’s fortune.
It had been like that since they formed 30 years ago, with members through the generations carrying out that pledge to spread as much pep as possible. While I say that they seemed nice judging from what I heard from others, they weren’t exactly the easiest clique to get into. Unless you were on the squad.
I saw them around campus between classes. They always moved as a group, the six of them with their arms wrapped around each other, brandishing the school colours. The guy’s in loose fitting varsity jackets, while the girl’s flaunted cheer skirts.
The way they acted was a little too close, like they were more than friends—and community and friendship had bled into something else. Like they had just walked out of an early 2000’s teen movie. Not that I was complaining. Their style was intriguing. They were like this untouchable group of god’s who had been placed on the highest pedestals. They ruled over campus, which made me want to get to know them even more. So, I tried out. Which was my first mistake of many in my freshman year.
It didn’t hit me that I was in way over my head until I was in the college gymnasium, standing in front of a four person panel like I was auditioning for a Hollywood movie. Sunbeam took their try-outs incredibly seriously. Which was weird considering they were known to be the complete opposite.
There were maybe fifty or so applicants, and we had to stand near the back wall and watch others try out one by one. Which was already setting off my anxiety. Weren’t they supposed to be closed try-outs? Initially, I was excited.
I had my routine in my head. What I had learned from watching the squad at my old school. High V, Low V, followed by a Touchdown, and then a backflip. I was confident. I mean, it ticked most cheer moves off, and even had a flip to complete the routine. My high school were a multi-sex quad, so I learned a lot from watching the guy’s moves during pep rallies.
I wasn’t really worried about the quality of the moves since they were known not to take everything too seriously. But watching the others try-out, impossible flips without crash mats and twisting their bodies in ways I didn’t know was possible, I quickly realised I was screwed. My competitors were acting like they were auditioning for an Olympic level team. My gut was dancing when I took centre stage.
The panel were made up of four members of the squad. Two boys and two girl’s, including the blonde who handed me the flyer on my first day. I was surprised when her eyes lit up with recognition.
"Oh, I know you!" She squeaked. Leaning forward, her smile seemed to brighten, illuminating her features. All four of them seemed to emanate a warm glow.
I felt myself relax slightly, the knot in my stomach loosening. Maybe their heightened positivity thing wasn’t a shtick, after all. The girl, as well as the other members of the team seemed genuinely happy to see me trying out. “What’s your name?” Her voice reverberated off of the walls, and I was suddenly aware of a dozen other students watching me.
“Alex.” I said, offering a shy wave. “Hey.”
Still grinning, she nudged a redhead next to her playfully. The guy was like no other I’d seen before. He was a god damn traffic light. He was easy to spot in a crowd and was usually one of the low-key members who kept his head down. All of those colours painting him, and yet somehow he wasn’t blinding people.
Though admittedly, he suited them; bright red hair clashing with the blue and gold of his football jersey, pasty skin and dark eyes drinking me in while the blonde girl pulled at his sleeve. “See, I told you annoying freshmen would work!”
In response, he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Evie.” The guy straightened up, leaning his chin on his fist, a curious spark in his eyes. “Alright.” Twisting around in his chair, he signalled for music. When it started, the beat slammed into me, rumbling under my feet. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”
I’m not going to describe my routine because I don’t have time to describe how fucking bad I was. In my head, I was doing okay. I was ready to finish with my back flip, but the music abruptly cut off and I found myself struggling to find my breath with my hands in the air, panting like an idiot. The blonde maintained her smile, but it was slightly strained. I could tell she was struggling to keep the façade of a Sunbeam member while also retaining critical thinking.
The redhead looked like he was in pain. He was first to speak, and I could tell by his sympathy smile I’d screwed up. The others who I hadn’t fully taken in until that moment, an asian American guy, and a girl with pigtails, were laughing like pre-schoolers. And they didn’t stop until the redhead shot them the warning eyes.
Weirdly enough, the crowd of onlookers didn’t join in. I expected the redhead to politely tell me I sucked, but instead he cocked his head, chewing on his pen. “You’re good.” He said. “You’re a good dancer, and I liked your moves…”
He trailed off. “But it’s positivity we’re looking for. And you didn’t smile once through your whole routine which made you look stiff. Like you weren’t even enjoying it.” He shrugged helplessly. “I like you, and I like your dancing. And I’m sure you could be better if you worked on it. There are countless dancing clubs here, so maybe you might be better fitted there.” After exchanging a look with the blonde, he sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re not the type of person we’re looking for.”
Evie nodded. “I agree. We pride ourselves on staying positive and smiling. I didn’t see that on you, Alex.”
“Same here.” Pigtails, still giggling, joined in. “I don’t think you’ve got enough school spirit.”
The other guy scoffed. He looked to be of Korean descent. Unlike the redhead, he was always at the centre of their group, always joking around and laughing. Just looking at him told me he was the leader. “Bullshit!” He slapped the table with one hand, running his hands through thick dark hair with the other. “I liked it. Fuck pep, amirite?” He threw his pen at the blonde, who retaliated in a squeak, lobbing hers at him. “Ignore these clowns. I think you’ve got what it takes. We just gotta work on you, y’know? All you’re missing is a cheesy grin.”
He pointed to himself, stretching his lips into the widest smile he could muster. “See? Like this.”
“Clowns?” Evie shook her head. “I didn’t see one smile. Sunbeam is all about smiling!”
“You make us sound like a cult.” The Korean-American caught my eye. “Which we’re not, by the way. These guys are just scared of change.”
“Okay, that’s too far.” Pigtails shot him a scowl. Are you seriously disrespecting the alumni who created us? Who birthed us?
“Well, yeah!” He threw his paper at her. “Sunbeam is a pep cult. We get high off of happiness. I thought we distinguished that.”
“Take that back!”
“Never! Why do you think I joined? To get high! Do you really think I joined for the cheering?”
They were joking around. I could tell by the smiles on their faces—a smile I knew I would never be able to mimic.
“Quiet.” The redhead shushed them. The guy had been sitting silently. Studying me. He leaned back, folding his arms.
“See, even now—even when I’m considering giving you a chance, there’s no hope in your eyes. Not even a glitter of excitement. You’re still not smiling and that’s what we want, Alex. We want people who will embody what Sunbeam is all about. Even if I give you a second chance to brighten up your routine your smile will be fake. And that’s not what we want. We want people who are willing to shed their humanity and become beacons.”
Beacons, huh?
And they were seriously saying they weren’t a cult?
The redhead stabbed at his sheet of paper with the end of his pen. “Can’t you just give us one smile? It won’t kill you.”
It was then when the others watching started to laugh—and I wanted to punch the asshole in the face.
“Dude, chill.” The Korean-American played with his pen, twirling it between two fingers. “He’s right, as much as I hate saying it. We do need smilers, unfortunately. But hey, you can try out next year! Just remember to smile, alright?” He threw something at me. A squashed candy bar.
Which made me look even more pathetic.
I found myself nodding, even when I knew it was all bullshit. Still though, what each member had told me hit me harder than it should have. They were just words, what could they do? It turned out, words were far more powerful than I realised—I just didn’t know it yet. I didn’t wait for the others to speak and made a quick getaway, my gut twisting and turning.
They were a cult. That is what I decided. These guys were a cult who needed members willing to throw away their souls. Probably for ritualistic sacrifice.
They needed weak people, I thought. Even when part of me knew they were right. I wasn't a smiler. Every photo I'm in, I'm either frowning or look constipated. Still though, I didn't dwell on the try-outs for too long. By the time a week had gone by, I had mostly forgotten about it and threw myself into my studies and college life.
Though something was wrong with me. It was as if the world had slowed down, had stopped making sense completely. Every day felt like a dream, and I myself felt like I was a ghost, like I was disassociating from my own body. Conversations with people felt fake. Like I was making them up.
I remember waking up day after day in a daze I couldn’t get myself out of. It was only several weeks later did the thick mind fog which had been blanketing my brain finally lift—only for me to hear the news that all six members of the Sunbeam squad had disappeared. I don’t know how I didn’t notice, how I didn’t see the police investigation, or hear rumours being spread around like wildfire.
According to the college, it wasn't technically considered a disappearance since the members were all over eighteen, no longer minors. However, an investigation was conducted, with a statement being released that they were due to be performing at Knoxville College, cheering on our football team. But they never turned up. And what made it worse, was their bus was found abandoned on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Sounds bad, right?
Well, that's what we all thought. Vigils were already being held, and bodies weren't even found yet. Every time I walked back to my dorm after classes, the night would be lit up in warm golden light, candles flickering in the breeze. I'm not sure how many days had gone by-- they all seemed to blur into one-- when our college made another statement. The members of the Sunbeam squad were alive and healthy and had been sent to a training academy for professionals.
When the student body responded with confusion and scepticism, the college reassured us they were coming back once they were finished training. And while my classmates were relieved, I found myself confused. Sunbeam didn't cheer competitively. Their whole thing was that all they wanted to do was spread cheer and pep, regardless of how good they were. I had seen them perform, and they were good, sure. They were better than average. But definitely not good enough to be trained into pro’s. Their moves were too clumsy, too half assed—which I was convinced they thought overwhelming amounts of positivity could fix. So it didn’t make sense that they had been sent to some training academy. I kept up my scepticism until I saw them for myself.
The college were right. Sunbeam returned a week later like nothing had happened.
I did see a change in them. I think that was a universal opinion though. Sunbeam were well known for their pep and cheer, their constant smiling faces which drove me crazy—and it’s not like that stopped. They still smiled. They still walked around campus laughing together, in their own little world. That was when people were watching. When they had an audience. I caught them when they didn’t have an audience. Without eyes on them, they detached from each other, their eyes darkening, expressions twisting, like each of them could smell something rotten in the air. I started noticing they were getting progressively clumsier at keeping up that Sunbeam façade they must have pledged when they joined the group. I figured it was just tiredness. They must have been through some pretty intense training.
Anyway, months went by. I started to feel less distant, and the fog which had been choking me faded, thankfully. I started my junior year moving into a shared house with my roommate, and the only talk I’d heard about Sunbeam was that one of their ex members was rumoured to be pregnant. As for the rest of the squad, they were still popular, still talked about—but their disappearance had definitely made people wary of them. I even heard someone say they were considered bad luck. I guess people thought they had sold themselves out for a chance to get into the big leagues. And it wouldn’t surprise me.
Forced positivity can get you a long way, sure—but recognition can get you further.
It was just a few weeks ago when I was invited to a game. Our first of the season, thanks to delays due to cuts in the sports department. I’m not much of a sports fan, though I needed a distraction from the copious amounts of assignments I’d let pile on my desk.
When I sat down with a chilli dog and Coke, I wasn’t expecting to get so invested in a game where I had no idea what was happening. It was loud and obnoxious and I was choking on the stink of fried food, but it was fun. It was fun until Sunbeam walked out onto the side-lines. I glimpsed them in a blur of blue and gold, and a dull pain crawled across the back of my head. “You okay?” My housemate’s voice was barely distinguishable in my ears, when I found myself transfixed by the way they moved in erratic jumps, quickly taking position. They had gotten better. Everything which was Sunbeam had been stripped away. Their smiles were forced. Wrong.
I remembered they used to push and shove each other, making the crowd laugh. Now though, they were in almost perfect sync in the way they moved, no longer shakily, sometimes stumbling into each other. Their routine was longer than it usually was—and when the Korean-American guy perfected a triple flip, the crowd went crazy. I expected him to smile when he landed, grinning into the audience to generate what Sunbeam was made for. But his expression stayed stoic. Robotic. They were stiff. Heads up, backs straight, staring ahead of them. I was told when I tried out that fake smiles weren’t allowed, and yet that was all I was seeing. I was seeing egotistical grins and curled lips, quick glances between each member.
I expected looks of reassurances, and in jokes only they found funny. Instead, it looked like a mutual agreement.
They were planning something. From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t a firework show.
Sunbeam used to generate happiness. Their smiles, even under a façade, had always been real.
These guys emanated power. The way they stood. The guy’s at the front, readying what I guessed was a lift, and the girl’s on top of them.
Their routine ended with the music reaching a climax, and the two main girl’s being lifted into the air while performing High V’s.
But they didn’t stop there.
When the crowd exploded with applause, one of the girl’s slowly raised her arms and shot into the crowd with finger guns.
She shot twice—and with every time she pulled that imaginary trigger, her painted lips stretched into a maniacal grin.Until her gaze was on me. And then behind me. I could see it in her glittering eyes I could no longer call human. I met Evie at the start of my freshman year, and then at the disastrous try-outs.
I knew her wide smile, and the glint of passion twisting her expression—a love for the group and the members she couldn’t put into words. Right then I wasn’t seeing Evie, a Sunbeam cheerleader. I was seeing something else entirely, a being scanning faces in the crowd for a victim.
Her expression seemed to melt, from a gleeful grin, to something twisted and putrid, someone who craved the exact opposite of what Sunbeam preached. I watched her lips. I watched the words pop into existence, drowned into nothing by the crowds cheering. But I saw them in perfect clarity. “Drop.” She said, before pulling the imaginary trigger again.
No sooner had the words left her mouth before someone screamed behind me. I twisted around to see a guy had collapsed. He was pronounced dead five minutes later by his sobbing girlfriend who had attempted CPR. When I twisted back to look out onto the field, the Sunbeam Squad were gone. It didn’t make sense that they were the ones to cause the guy’s death—but it couldn’t have been a coincidence, right? Evie had shot into the crowd at the exact same time the guy had dropped dead. Finger guns weren’t a weapon of course, but the timing was too coincidental. I already knew there was something wrong with Sunbeam. And this just strengthened my claims.
Obviously, when I tried to tell people this, I was called crazy. Delusional. I reported it to the student information building and just got a blank stare.
The woman wasn’t even attempting to hear my story. She just heard “murder” and “Sunbeam” and her lips curved into an amused smirk. “You know, you are quite fascinating,” leaning back against her chair, the woman frowned at me through wonky glasses. "First you unexpectedly quit, and then you accuse them of murder. Which I can tell you is false.”
She flipped through a notebook in front of her. “According to the autopsy report released a few days ago, the young man died of a brain haemorrhage, not the result of being pretend shot at by a cheerleader miming finger-guns.” The woman cleared her throat.
“Tell me, what exactly do you have against the Sunbeam squad?"
“What?”
“You quit the squad at the end of your freshman year,” she said, “And now you’re trying to accuse them of murder? Fascinating.”
Her words struck me, a shiver sliding down my spine. The office was cosy, and when I sunk into the rich leather of the couch in front of a roaring fire I recognised the book on her desk. It was a dog eared copy of Harry Potter. I’d seen it before. But that was impossible. I had never been in her office. “Quit?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t…” I trailed off, stumbling over my words. “I’ve never been part of Sunbeam.”
“Were you not?” She shook her head, a crease forming between her brows. “Ah, I must be getting you mixed up with someone else.”
I nodded. “Just… can you just listen to me? That Evie girl was fucking—”
She cut me off. “Language.”
“Sorry. Evie. She was… I don’t know what she was doing... she was doing like... like magic?”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Yes!"
“Mmm hmm.” The woman cleared her throat, dismissing my protests. “I’m not a doctor, but If you’re experiencing memory loss and confusion, I suggest you go to the hospital. As for your ludicrous claims, you should keep them to yourself. That poor young man died due to a brain haemorrhage. Terrible and tragic, yes. But it was accidental, and not the work of… I’m sorry, what were you claiming it to be?”
“Magic.” I said, again.
When she raised her brow, I couldn’t resist a groan. “I saw her! She shot into the crowd and mouthed something!”
“She… mouthed something?”
“Yes! But—"
Again, her words sliced into mine. “Okay, let’s say you were right,” she said. “If you are saying this girl shot into the crowd with her imaginary gun, wouldn’t it be a gun shot which would have killed him? You said it yourself—, it was some kind of witchy magic to kill him. So, where was the bullet wound?” When I tried to speak, she raised her arm to shut me up.
“Exactly. There was none. Because the man suffered a haemorrhagic stroke, and nothing could be done to save him. Your claims a group of young people carried this out as a murder is not only blatant defamation, but also disrespectful to the young man and his family. Now, please leave my office. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” The woman nodded for me to stand up. “I think you have been watching too much TV. Might I suggest focusing on your studies?”
I left her office, slamming the door.
My housemate wasn’t helpful when I told him. He told me I was maybe a little too obsessed with Sunbeam. He headed to work, and I ended up in the lounge trying to focus on an episode of Criminal Minds. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Evie.
I saw what she said.
Drop.
But it wasn’t the force of her imaginary finger-guns ricocheting back. It was the word. Drop.
It had been alive on her lips like it was a sentient thing bleeding into existence. I managed to fall asleep, twisted like a pretzel in my housemate’s favourite chair, when three loud knocks on the door tore me from slumber. I was on my feet, blinking, disoriented. It was rare when we got a visitor. Stumbling over to the door, I had a moment of hesitation. I imagined Evie on the other side.
I imagined her raising her arm and shooting her pretend finger-guns directly into my head.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see three little kids. The youngest must have been maybe nine years old. To my surprise, they were dressed in Halloween costumes. There was a little witch, a ghost, and a scarecrow all carrying pumpkin shaped holders It took me a moment to realise I was staring at a group of Trick or Treaters. It wasn’t even mid-October yet.
“Hey there,” I said, “Uh, you guys are a little early.”
The little girl’s eyes were wide and unblinking. “We want candy.” She held out her candy holder. “Now.”
I decided to be firm with them. “It’s not Halloween.” I said, taking a small step back. I was grasping the handle, ready to slam it in their faces. These little shits were freaking me out. Not just their tone, but their expressions were vacant. There were no lights on and that terrified me. “Sorry kids, I don’t have any candy. But like I said, come back when it’s actually Halloween, and I’ll have candy bars for all of you. "
What I wasn’t expecting was for the Scarecrow to pull a knife out of his pumpkin shaped candy holder. He didn’t hold it like a kid should, clumsily, confused. There was a strategic way the way his fingers were wrapped around the handle—like he’d brandished one before. The kid held the knife up to his own neck and made a slicing motion. Like the little girl, his eyes were blank. Unblinking. There was something wrong in the way he was standing. Stiff, like a puppet on strings. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He squeaked out a laugh. I didn’t see him lunge forward, I was already moving back, stumbling, losing my footing.
The kid moved with impossible speed—and before I knew what was happening, the hilt of the knife was buried in my lower leg. I didn’t even feel pain. My body was being driven by adrenaline, pushing me to get away from him. I remember falling back. I remember my own trembling hands grasping hold of the handle and pulling out the knife. Red was pooling down my jeans and onto our hardwood floor. The little kids turned around and ran back down the steps into the night, and I watched them in a sort of daze.
They didn’t move like normal.
They stalked down the sidewalk like video game characters. The witch shoved a passing old man before pulling out a gun and pointing it at his head. But she didn’t shoot. The three of them ran off—and it was only when I was watching the top of the girl’s witch hat disappear into the night, when I glimpsed something—or someone—at the corner of my eye.
Before I heard laughter. The tree in front of me moved. At first I thought they were shadow’s. Before the shadows bled into figures. Four of them. I glimpsed the school colours. Blue and Gold. I saw twin ponytails, velvet and blonde-- as well as the tell-tale Sunbeam varsity jacket. The group were laughing, whispering to each other. Not exactly doing a good job of hiding. When they slipped from their hiding place, I recognised Evie. Her fingers gingerly on her nose while intense red pooled down her chin.
The others were the same, swiping at their faces with jacket sleeves. They didn’t seem fazed. The redhead’s gaze was latched onto the retreating children, his lips curling. I could sense he was still tethered to them. He was still commanding them to act out grand theft auto. They had caused the man’s death at the game and had controlled those children.
I wasn’t crazy or delusional. Evie had killed someone by simply shooting imaginary finger guns, and somehow the others were able to bleed into children’s heads, taking them over.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I heaved out a breath. The pain was starting to hit in waves I had to grit through. I couldn’t move. I was stuck, curled up on my floor. While they laughed.
I was halfway through stabbing 911 into my phone when one of them came over. It was the Korean-American. The one who had been the nicest to me out of all of them. The real smile I remembered was gone, replaced by something inhuman. Something I didn’t want to question.
With his hands stuffed in his varsity jacket pockets, he approached me with mocking eyes, almost an attempt at trying to mimic his old self.
The guy knelt in front of me with a chuckle. “Kids these days, right? They’re animals.”
His voice, no, his words, were hurting me. I felt each one penetrate me like gunshots.
My wound wasn’t bad. That’s what I estimated, anyway. I don’t think the kid had hit anything vital. But I needed the emergency room. I still had one hand grasping at my side, drenched in red.
I managed a hiss, grasping for my phone when he pulled it out of my grasp and waved it in the air. “Fuck off. What did you do to those little kids?” I gritted out, trying to reach for my damn phone. I was starting to feel the pain in my side and it hurt like a mother fucker—dizzying bolts of electricity which felt like waves of boiling hot water slamming into me one by one. I tried to get onto my knees, but he pushed me back down again. The guy cocked his head to the side, confusion creasing his expression.
“Ouch. That must hurt.”
"What did you... what did you do?" I hissed out.
His presence was hurting me. Every time he opened his mouth, it was agony. Somehow, it was worse than the stab-wound. This kind of pain was no other I’d felt before. The type I’d rather die than feel. A cry was clawing at my throat, fight or flight taking over. Again, I tried to move, I tried to get away from him. But he was holding down my arms and prodding at my side before sticking his finger in the cut and twisting. "I didn't do anything, Alex.”
His voice barely hit me when my vision blurred and I screamed. Like a fucking animal, I screamed. But not because his fingers were digging around in my insides.
Because my brain was suddenly boiling, a metal rod piercing my skull and stirring it into a soupy mess. His voice was inside me. It was bleeding into me, taking over me. But not just his voice. The world blurred around me and I was no longer in my doorway, bleeding out against the wall.
Instead, I was moving. I was… I was walking. No, I was being dragged. Except these weren’t my memories. This wasn’t my mind. I could see bare feet beneath me delicately slapping on white tiles. When I looked up, I saw an expanse of white like I was being led straight into the clouds. This was a building. There were glass doors and electronic panels, people in black guarding each one. It took a while for me to gain my senses—or him to gain his.
We could smell something like chlorine and taste rusty coins at the back of our throat. Feel the ice cold tiles against our bare toes. A strange feeling at the back of our head. We kept wanting to run our fingers through our hair, but every time we did, our fingers only touched bare skin. Scuffed and rigged skin. Tight fingers were wrapped around our arm, dragging us further and further into a white oblivion. Until a glass door seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
From now on, I am going to describe his memories very vaguely. I’m just going to tell you what I saw.
The room we walked into reminded me of a classroom—but there were no desks. In front of me were the other members of Sunbeam pressed against the back wall. They faced forwards, their gazes penetrating nothing. But I saw they were trembling. Terrified. The squad were dressed in pale white shorts and t-shirt, ugly red spattering the front. There were still traces of blue and glitter on their faces, ribbons hanging from bedraggled curls.
Their feet were bare and filthy like ours. When we were shoved forwards, we took our place next to Evie who had half of her hair shaved off. Her arms were folded across her cheer uniform, her bare feet tapping a beat against the floor. When a woman with dark red hair held in a strict ponytail entered and asked if either of us wanted to show her what we had learned, Evie eagerly raised her hand. “Okay, Evie.” The woman’s voice was too sweet. Sickly sweet. She gestured for the girl forward. “Show us what you’ve got.”
The door opened, and a man stepped through. His hands were tied in front of him, his eyes blank.
Evie nodded, her eyes set in determination. She cleared her throat. “Shatter.”
Nothing happened.
“Intent, Evie.” The woman said. “It doesn’t matter how you say the word unless you use proper intent. Try again.”
The girl did, growling in frustration.
"Shatter.”
The man’s head flew from his torso suddenly in a river of red, and the girl squeaked in excitement.
While we watched in horror, the rest of the squad gave in to their own despair.
Different days bled into one—and we watched faces change. Heads were shaved. Hair grew back. Fear turned to joy.
A blonde girl exploded into bloody chunks, splattering against the walls.
“Yes!” The redhead high-fived pigtails, the two of them locked into some bizarre handshake. “That’s what I’m TALKING about!”
“Bang!” One of the girls used finger guns, and with each “shot” innocents dropped against the wall one by one, their heads blown through.
She jumped up and down in glee. “Bang, bang, bang!”
“Keep going,” the voice of the woman crackled through the speaker. “You’ve almost got it.”
“Divide.” Pigtails used her pointer finger at an old man who was skewed by an invisible force sending bloody chunks of him to the floor.
"Show off.” The redhead said in a sing-song voice. He was slumped against the back wall using his jersey to wipe blood from his face while the others painted the room scarlet. With simple words of intent and a hand gesture, they were able to take people apart piece by piece.
Pigtails snorted when another “test subject” was brought in. "Oh, you think you can do better?”
“Think I can? I know I can.”
This time he plunged two fingers into his temples. He was centre stage, the others against the back wall with their arms folded.
“Rip it out.”
The test subject’s eyes widened, her trembling hands clawing at her own head, fingernails digging into flesh. “Rip…rip it out?”
His lip curved. “That’s what I said.”
We didn’t see the test subject rip her own brain from her skull. We were already burying our head into our knees and screeching into the floor. Another flash. Like watching a movie.
This time we’re cutting into our wrist with shards of glass. Pulling back fleshy flaps of our flesh, there are two wires entangled with muscle and bone. One red and one blue. “Why won’t you submit?” A sharp growl, and I can feel our body pressed against metal. Our arms are restrained. “Out of all of them, you refuse it.” A hand slaps our face. “You don’t want it!”
He started to laugh.
“You don’t want… control?”
He leaned his face closer. “Tell me to mutilate myself. Tell me to… to tear out my brain stem! That’s the beauty of it! No matter how impossible the order is, it will be completed! Control, my boy. Use it. Do you even understand how much you are going to shape the world? Words! Do you know how powerful they are? When said from the right mouth, with the right intent, they can cause bloodshed, pain and misery-- a despair drowning our already shattered earth. And you will be the centre of it. You will bring this world to its knees, Jason."
"Now, do it. We call it cutting, but you will find familiarity in referring to it as erasure. You can make up your own words if you would like. What matters is the intent.” I feel something slicing into our arm. It’s nothing medical. It’s torture. He plunges something sharp into the same spot and twists the blade until we throw our head back and scream at the ceiling.
“You’re the last one.” The man hissed. “Do it.”
“No.” I heard his—our—voice. “I… I can’t!”
“Do it!”
He’s dragging us again, forcing us down a long winding corridor until we reach another door.
"Drown." The boy - - Jason's-- voice was suddenly in my head. I could sense it was trying to hold back, attempting to peel back whatever power his own words had. But the word came again and again until it was suffocating his mouth. “Drown. Drown. Drown. Drown.” We were standing in the doorway of a smaller room. In the corner there was a figure curled up with their head pressed against the wall.
It was a guy.
I recognised our school colours, a bloodied varsity jacket over shorts and t-shirt. When he lifted his head and twisted to face the boy whose mind I was in, I noticed he had an uncanny resemblance to me. His eyes wide, frightened. They were my mother's.
This guy looked exactly like me.
No, it WAS me.
My eyes were shadowed and haunted.
Like I had been drained of everything I was.
As quickly as the memories came crashing into me, they were yanked away when the guy must have pulled back.
I blinked rapidly, and Jason looked as confused as me. Slowly, he pulled his finger from my cut. The man's voice was in my skull, and it was agonising. I felt the command in my head, my body instantly reacting to... to nothing. I had my hands out, ready to do.... do something.
"That was… just a trick,” He said. “Yeah! Just a trick!”
I found myself nodding, echoing his words. Something warm ran from my nose.
"Just... a trick..." I whispered, the words forced from my lips.
Blood spattered down my chin.
“Louder.” He said.
"JUST A TRICK!" I yelled, the force of the wail sending me my knees, panting. The guy was frowning, seemingly unsure what to do with me.
He wrapped up my wound and told me it wasn’t bad—and it wasn’t. I watched in disbelief as my skin stitched itself back together.
"Go into your kitchen." Jason said, and I felt the power of his words ripping through me like bullets. My body moved on its own, and I got to my feet and stepped into my kitchen. He followed me, grabbing a scarf off of the table.
"Get on your knees." I did, dropping to my knees, my breath in my throat, my mouth sealed shut. I could sense the others in the doorway as he wrapped the scarf around my eyes, the heel of his shoe slamming into my neck forcing me onto my stomach.
"I want you to wait for me to kill you."
His words pierced into me. I did. Even when I knew he was gone, the door slamming shut-- I waited. I waited until the next morning, until I regained control over my own body and pulled the scarf from my eyes. I'm still waiting, my brain in constant panic, twisting around when I'm alone, looking into every corner.
I was roped into going to Friday's game against Harrington. During Sunbeam’s routine, they did it again. They had the crowd's attention, and Evie was mouthing something. I felt her words, sharp like needles cutting into me. But they didn't penetrate. They have done something to the student body. Ever since, I’ve been catching looks around me. Those whose heads they have crawled into. Mindless eyes. Every so often an arm will touch mine, fingers will wrap around my neck. I can hear their feet pitter pattering after me. Those little kids from that night. I keep seeing the little witch girl in the corner of my eye. They’re creating an army who are coming for me once he decides to kill me.
If only I knew what happened to the Sunbeam squad. Maybe I can help them somehow.
But something tells me they’re way past help.
And so am I.
I wonder if one day, I might be allowed a glimpse of my memories. What really happened to me during my freshman year.
And why, ever since going into his mind, I dream of a white room.
submitted by Trash_Tia to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:57 crypticcollaborator [H] Over 350 games, including Monster Hunter: World, Deep Rock Galactic, Doom Eternal, Fallout 76, Deathloop [W] Street Fighter 6, Skyrim VR, Fallout 4 VR, other interesting VR games, TF2 keys

https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/nws41crypticcollaborators_igs_rep_page_1/
cryptid's Tradable https://barter.vg72d3/t/?filter=0,9,0
Steam
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DOOM Eternal
Devil May Cry HD Collection
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Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun - Aiko's Choice
Borderlands 3: Super Deluxe Edition
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Grow: Song of the Evertree
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Just Cause 4 Complete Edition
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XCOM: ULTIMATE COLLECTION
Legend of Keepers
Torchlight II
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Orcs Must Die 2 - Complete Pack
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8Doors: Arum's Afterlife Adventure
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The Golf Club 2019 Featuring PGA TOUR
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Duke Nukem Forever: Hail to the Icons Parody Pack
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Hidden & Dangerous 2: Courage Under Fire
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XCOM 2: Reinforcement Pack
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shapez - Puzzle DLC
WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS
F1 2018
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Aviary Attorney
Treasure Temples
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Levelhead
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The Walking Dead Onslaught Deluxe Edition
Army Men RTS
BATTLETECH - Shadow Hawk Pack
State of Mind
Rayon Riddles - Rise of the Goblin King
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GRIP: Combat Racing
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ibb & obb - Best Friends Forever Double Pack
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XCOM 2: Resistance Warrior Pack
Hidden & Dangerous: Action Pack
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The Amazing American Circus
GARAGE: Bad Trip
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The Ambassador: Fractured Timelines
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Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
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Syberia 3 Deluxe Edition with An Automaton with a plan DLC
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Cygon Customisation Pack
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Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!
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X-COM: Complete Pack
Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Deluxiest Edition
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1993 Space Machine
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A New Beginning - Final Cut
Patrician IV: Steam Special Edition
GameGuru Classic
Slinger VR
TRAUMA
Earth 2160
GOG
Wanderlust Travel Stories
submitted by crypticcollaborator to indiegameswap [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:56 Anna825 Chronic anxiety and now job/life anxiety ..how to avoid breaking point?

I have chronic anxiety that hasn’t been well managed. I accept I should have been doing more to work on myself and my anxiety throughout my life. Just like neglecting a small issue on a vehicle that becomes something much bigger, I’m now reaping the reward of lifelong anxiety struggles.
I’m struggling in a challenging relationship that pushes my anxiety and limits. I moved with my boyfriend to a small rural town, left behind my career for high stress retail jobs. After a year of stress at the last one, I resigned due to mounting ethical issues . My taking a stand didn’t go entirely unnoticed- my resignation was accepted with an unusual offer of severance in the form of 2 weeks pay (still waiting on it, a month later but assured its coming).
I took a higher stress minimum wage retail position in a nearby town. Not ideal since my old car is breaking down and I need it to get to work. Already letting anxiety overcome me during training, etc. I know I have to get it together because I need any paycheck to survive.
I had an awesome job opportunity before I took the latest retail position but I’m nearing the time where they should have made a decision. I got to the final round of candidates, submitted a (hopefully not botched) behavioral assessment, great final interview, talk about what training would be like- 2 weeks in another town while being put up in a hotel, etc.
There’s a lot of reasons I may not have gotten the job. Hoping I got it is how I made it through my first couple days at the new retail job. Not having answers sucks, I stay up all night for no reason (they aren’t going to send a job offer email at 12:00am). Have to be up super early for my retail job, and just feel like shit going back there.
There is so much emphasis put on your prior job in interviews that I can’t imagine getting a better position after staying at this latest job. I get that I made my bed, I took an ethical stand when quitting my last job and now I’m paying the price. Small town, few opportunities, now my real “professional references” from my prior career will be dead leads when I try to get something better whenever that comes up.
I really imagined my life was going to work out, I’d get the job and have health insurance again, decent pay, a good work-life balance for my mental health. Sucks to lose your one shot. How do I take steps forward to bring me back from the brink of feeling hopeless? Also I don’t want my boyfriend to break up with a loser as I’d have to be homeless for a bit.
What healthy tips will move me forward?
submitted by Anna825 to Anxiety [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:56 crypticcollaborator [H] Over 350 games, including Monster Hunter: World, Deep Rock Galactic, Doom Eternal, Fallout 76, Deathloop [W] Street Fighter 6, Skyrim VR, Fallout 4 VR, other interesting VR games, TF2 keys

cryptid's Tradable https://barter.vg72d3/t/?filter=0,9,0
1685652476 (Unix timestamp)
Steam
DEATH STRANDING
Praey for the Gods
Monster Hunter: World
Syberia - The World Before
Devil May Cry 5
Deep Rock Galactic
Orcs Must Die! 3
DOOM Eternal
Devil May Cry HD Collection
DEATHLOOP
Superliminal
Sable
GreedFall
River City Girls
Mafia: Definitive Edition
Baba Is You
Planet Zoo
Ion Fury
Ghostrunner
Gang Beasts
Wasteland 3
Besiege
Desperados III
Destroy All Humans!
Creaks
The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope
Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous - Enhanced Edition
DUSK
HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED™
SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle for Bikini Bottom - Rehydrated
Ghost of a Tale
Sunset Overdrive
AMID EVIL
House Flipper
Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes
The Last Campfire
Batora: Lost Haven
We Were Here Together
INMOST
Metro Exodus
Starbound
DARQ
Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
Kingdoms of Amalur: Re-Reckoning
Necromunda: Hired Gun
Fallout 76
The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos
Monster Sanctuary
Monument Valley
The Surge 2
Project Wingman
Dread Templar
Pumpkin Jack
Hedon Bloodrite
Monument Valley 2
Vagante
Second Extinction™
ECHO
The Long Dark
Surviving the Aftermath
Phoenix Point
The Falconeer
LIBERATED
Tribes of Midgard
Wingspan
Eldest Souls
Sonic Mania
Project Winter
DIRT 5
The Survivalists
Othercide
Carto
Intravenous
Heat Signature
The Henry Stickmin Collection
Descenders
ScourgeBringer
Miscreated
Monster Train
We Need To Go Deeper
Forgive Me Father
Shady Part of Me
UnMetal
DESYNC
Aragami
Timelie
Shortest Trip to Earth
People Playground
Black Book
Cube Escape Collection
Raji: An Ancient Epic
Sid Meier's Civilization VI
TOEM
Yes, Your Grace
Them's Fightin' Herds
Encased
Disciples: Liberation
Partisans 1941
Styx: Shards of Darkness
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Wizard of Legend
Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun - Aiko's Choice
Borderlands 3: Super Deluxe Edition
Kingdom Two Crowns
Grow: Song of the Evertree
Drake Hollow
Street Fighter V
FTL: Faster Than Light
Hellbound
Maid of Sker
Blacksad
WRATH: Aeon of Ruin
Fobia - St. Dinfna Hotel
Secret Neighbor
DmC Devil May Cry
Chicken Police
The Darkside Detective
Siege Survival: Gloria Victis
Greak: Memories of Azur
BioShock: The Collection
Just Cause 4 Complete Edition
Finding Paradise
Ultra Street Fighter IV
Duskers
Red Solstice 2: Survivors
Minoria
Roboquest
Sunless Sea
Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl
NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
Resident Evil Revelations
Call of the Sea
Blade Assault
I Am Fish
Nobodies
If Found
ATOM RPG Trudograd
PLANET ALPHA
Crown Trick
Raw Data
Pathway
SUPERHOT
Hammerting
OlliOlli World Rad Edition
Project Warlock
Hokko Life
Save Room - Organization Puzzle
In Sound Mind
Paradise Killer
Police Stories
HITMAN: Game of the Year Edition
Omno
Killsquad
Astronarch
The Serpent Rogue
XCOM: ULTIMATE COLLECTION
Legend of Keepers
Torchlight II
Due Process
Suzerain
Necronator: Dead Wrong
Before We Leave
Not Tonight
First Class Trouble
Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun
Shu
Everhood
Rebel Cops
Railroad Corporation
Bee Simulator
Hob
Tools Up!
Mind Scanners
Lacuna
CROSSBOW: Bloodnight
Beyond The Wire
Sundered: Eldritch Edition
John Wick Hex
PGA TOUR 2K21
Lumini
Nebuchadnezzar
Mad Experiments: Escape Room
Backbone
RAD
Orcs Must Die! 2
Voidigo
As Far As The Eye
Pawnbarian
Truberbrook
Black Future '88
Supraland
Ittle Dew
Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Pirates of the Sword Coast
Five Dates
Undead Horde
X Rebirth
Where the Water Tastes Like Wine
Conan Chop Chop
ELDERBORN
Farmer's Dynasty
Nowhere Prophet
Boundless
Orcs Must Die 2 - Complete Pack
Kill It With Fire
TOHU
Nex Machina
Rogue Heroes: Ruins of Tasos
SUPERHOT: MIND CONTROL DELETE
AI War 2
8Doors: Arum's Afterlife Adventure
Embr
Tooth and Tail
Hello Neighbor: Hide and Seek
Jurassic World Evolution - Deluxe DLC
Electronauts
Ring of Pain
Post Void
Blue Fire
In Other Waters
At Eve's Wake
Cosmonautica
Hoplegs
Super Magbot
shapez
Tower of Time
Retrowave
ADOM (Ancient Domains Of Mystery)
Morbid: The Seven Acolytes
Battlewake
The Golf Club 2019 Featuring PGA TOUR
Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Here Be Dragons
Mutant Year Zero: Road to Eden - Fan Edition
Pizza Connection 3
Sprint Vector
Lawn Mowing Simulator
Tyranny - Deluxe Edition
Cannibal Cuisine
Nimbatus - The Space Drone Constructor
Railway Empire
Midnight Protocol
Tales of the Tiny Planet
Emily is Away <3
The Doctor Who Cloned Me
The Lovable Rogues Pack
Nelly Cootalot: Spoonbeaks Ahoy! HD
Lust from Beyond: M Edition
Rustler
Unexplored
Hard Reset Redux
Shing!
Neon Chrome
FRAMED Collection
EarthX
Paradise Lost
Duke Nukem Forever
Duke Nukem Forever: Hail to the Icons Parody Pack
Epic Chef
Out of Space
Syberia 3
Surviving Mars
Hidden & Dangerous 2: Courage Under Fire
CivCity: Rome
Baby Dino Adventures
XCOM 2: Reinforcement Pack
Hero Defense
WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS - Ultimate Brawlers Pass
TaniNani
West of Dead
Möbius Front '83
Calico
Tacoma
The Way
112 Operator
This War of Mine
Lust for Darkness
shapez - Puzzle DLC
WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS
F1 2018
Evoland Legendary Edition
Aviary Attorney
Treasure Temples
Journey For Elysium
Levelhead
Golf Gang
The Walking Dead Onslaught Deluxe Edition
Army Men RTS
BATTLETECH - Shadow Hawk Pack
State of Mind
Rayon Riddles - Rise of the Goblin King
Explosionade
Deadly Days
Fling to the Finish
GRIP: Combat Racing
Desolate
ibb & obb - Best Friends Forever Double Pack
Radio Commander
XCOM 2: Resistance Warrior Pack
Hidden & Dangerous: Action Pack
Evan's Remains
Swords and Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
Effie
Paw Paw Paw
Iron Danger
The Amazing American Circus
GARAGE: Bad Trip
Railroad Tycoon 2: Platinum
AWAKE - Definitive Edition
Swag and Sorcery
Popup Dungeon
The Ambassador: Fractured Timelines
Cook, Serve, Delicious! 2!!
Between the Stars
Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
Amnesia Collection
Tropico 4 Collector's Bundle
Sid Meier's Railroads!
Star Vikings Forever
Syberia 3 Deluxe Edition with An Automaton with a plan DLC
Fury Unleashed
Moon Hunters
Treasure Hunter Simulator
Torchlight
Go Home Dinosaurs!
Fallout
GemCraft - Chasing Shadows
Layers of Fear (2016)
Cygon Customisation Pack
Corridor Z
Family Man
Yoku's Island Express
Guppy
WARSAW
Crying Suns
System Shock: Enhanced Edition
Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!
Railroad Tycoon 3
Vintek Customisation Pack
Terra Customisation Pack
Retimed
Divekick
X-COM: Complete Pack
Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Deluxiest Edition
ToeJam & Earl: Back in the Groove
1993 Space Machine
911 Operator
Brothers - A Tale of Two Sons
Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
Golf With Your Friends - OST
Chroma Squad
Click and Slay
Marooners
Guts and Glory
Driftland: The Magic Revival
Valhalla Hills
Jagged Alliance 2 - Wildfire
Blackguards
Broken Age
Roarr! Jurassic Edition
Hiveswap Friendsim
Beholder
Monaco
Soulblight
Telefrag VR
Ruins to Rumble
AI War: Fleet Command
Last Resort Island
Draw Slasher
Boreal Blade
Crash Drive 2
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Drawful 2
Orbital Racer
Oh My Gore!
A New Beginning - Final Cut
Patrician IV: Steam Special Edition
GameGuru Classic
Slinger VR
TRAUMA
Earth 2160
GOG
Wanderlust Travel Stories
submitted by crypticcollaborator to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:25 No-Cloud9055 cut off a 10-year friendship today

I left a long-term friendship with someone I considered my best friend for nearly 10 years today. But now, I don't know how I feel cutting her off like this, I'm just in a really weird limbo, but it feels like a constant buzzing stopped in my head as soon as I did it; I don't feel so anxious or heavy anymore. This was the hardest lesson I've learned but I'm so happy I no longer feel like I'm going in circles anymore. I'm sorry for how long this is. I'm also sorry for any errors, I haven't slept before writing this.
(A little context) After high school, we separated for nearly 2-3 years around the time we graduated and went to college. We both found different friend groups and just drifted a part as we were always involved with different clubs, sports, etc. We came back to each other after our 1st year in college and it was as if we never stopped talking. We called eachother all the time, we motivated each other in our classes, talked about the things we went through which both of us faced similar trauma in our relationships when we were a part so we were always there for each other for that, having heart to hearts, talking about our dreams and how we wanted to continue our lives. She uplifted me, showed up for me, and we were able to handle issues with each other fairly well.
The issues mainly happened when I changed my name (it was my grandmother's choice and I wanted to have something symbolic for myself) she refused to call me by it even though I told her it was formally used in university, all my other friends called me it, etc., just because she knew me for so long and felt that it would be too difficult to switch over (even though another mutual friend who knew me just as long called me by my preferred name). She would no longer let me play music in her car as the songs she said she liked, she suddenly didn't like. When I chose to change my major to creative writing and art, she told me I'd never make enough to support myself, that I wouldn't be able to go to grad school outside of the U.S. as my future career wouldn't allow me to afford flights to see my family. She would tell me that I was incapable of understanding her major (accounting) and when I asked for help on hw questions for stats, she'd talk to me if I was a child, talking over me when I tried asking questions. When I got my poems published she briefly congratulated me on a phone call which then turned into a 3 hour discussion about herself.
The biggest red flag that stuck out to me was how long I'd sit on the phone listening to her talk about herself--she vented all the time about her problems with coworkers, she'd talk about how she'd refuse to help anyone in the class because she was smarter then them and that they always asked dumb questions, and then she started only talking about her accomplishments, how great her grades were, how quick she finished exams, how she's going to make so much money, and so on. Her mom started to get involved as well and any chance that she got to tell me that I wouldn't do anything sustainable with my majors or wouldn't make enough, she did while my friend laughed or stayed silent on the phone. She'd take those personality quizzes online and report back to me that she scored high for sociopathy and "bragged" about it.
I realized that she'd only ask me questions about myself as an opportunity to talk about herself if the conversation went quiet. She struggled to give me any sincere compliments and most of them ended with "but." However, she was there when I needed someone, and those times were the only time attention would be given to me, but then she'd eventually share all the sensitive private things I shared with her family, her new friends, and mutuals without asking. Every single future plan she had involved me somewhere being with her, if she wanted to go to law school, I suddenly wanted to go. If she wanted to live in Washington, we would be in the same house. And then, pieces of my identity, my style, interests, and hobbies were becoming replicated. She'd start to embarrass me in front of our mutuals, bringing up the darkest, lowest parts of my life as a joke, such as "Do you remember when that happened?" and the conversation would always grow awkward. When a new friend (a mutual's new girlfriend) joined the group and all we hung out together, she kept talking about how our mutual and I had a fling (3 years ago), but of course camoflauging it with humor.
She'd switch up, always. In our friend groups she'd turn into this sickly sweet person, paying for everyone's dinner, and with out mutual and his girlfriend, she'd latch onto her, saying how much she loved her and that'd she (jokingly) steal her from him. Sure she'd do nice things when it was just us like paying for dinner, but outside of that? I never experienced how she was with others.
The weirdest thing she did was when she'd pretend that the figure's hands/feet I drew from in my class were hers to a guy (her family friend) who I was talking to. If he complimented them, she'd message them saying that he was basically complimenting her, and when I confronted her about it, she would say, "I know it's not mine, I just want to be humbled." He would stand up for me usually, saying how he loved my artwork, but she'd never say anything to me about my drawings. The only one she "complimented" she ended up focusing on how it wasn't proportional.
The most recent thing is that she started to "psychoanalyze" me, projecting a whole bunch of negative assumptions about my behavior that weren't true and that I knew weren't true as I was working closely with a therapist during this time (which she knew about) and was starting to better myself, change old habits, etc. Wanting to pick up the guitar meant that I was evading all the problems in my life. Telling her that I was no longer interested in a guy, meant that I idealized him and that she was right about it. But if i tried to give her advice when she was upset? I was projecting onto her, and she'd never try to hear me out, just talk over me and tell me to calm down. She started to mess with my memory of events and her behavior, convincing me that I said something I didn't, changing up narratives, etc.
I know I can be outspoken when I need to be. I've had to stand up for myself many times, but I still struggle with setting boundaries with people I love or people I've known for a long time. I was also scared to lose her because I left a previous friend group that was no longer good for me, and I was like, oh god, I'm going to be all alone now. Most importantly, losing her meant that this was real, that what I thought was okay, was the complete opposite, and I didn't want to view my friend in that light as she faced a lot of trauma too, but I was losing myself so quickly, losing interest in all the things I loved, dimming myself down, dreaming smaller, becoming smaller. I knew it wasn't worth it to stay as my mental health was spiraling. I've lost myself before and I didn't want to ever go there again.
I got fed up with feeling so anxious around her, not knowing the type of friend I'd get. Would I be treated like a punching bag one day, a therapist the next, an expected, devoted, #1 fan in the middle, or would I get lucky, and she'd treat me like a human being for a night? It was such a vicious cycle, and I thought I was crazy or being overdramatic. I was scared to confront her about it because she's reactive and hostile when confronted or she'd end up icing me out. While handling issues at home and in my personal life, I just didn't have the energy to say anything when I knew what the outcome would most likely be. I am still mad at myself for handing my power over like that even though I know it wasn't that simple.
I started to do research, and one article led to the next, and I then started to see our past 2 years of friendship in every red flag of narcissism I read. Past conversations would replay, all what I was feeling was becoming validated, and I realized that I was becoming less and less me, I was just becoming a hollowed-out vessel of what I used to be. I didn't want to label her as a full blown narc and yes, maybe I can't be for sure, but I knew that there were qualities about her that just made everything make sense. It was like the whisper I had inside was growing louder, sort of like saying, "See? I told you so."
I slowly started to distance myself but her phone calls grew incessant, she'd start to become sweet, attentive, and kind, and of course, I eventually started to give in to answering. I'd try to limit what I said to her, attempted to grey rock, and it started to work, but I was still losing myself and my identity. I wanted to be able to be myself, share about the things I was working on, the highlights of my day...it sucked, I just wanted a friend, a real friend. We spent nearly ten years together, became adults together, had our first heartbreaks together, got through the most turbulent events together, but I knew I had to stand up on my two feet, hold my hand, and get out of this.
I kept researching, watching videos and started to get the confidence to leave, placing more accountability on her instead of empathizing so much for her that I was abandoning myself. I just kept telling myself, "You've stood up for yourself before, you can do it again."
So I wrote her a long letter that took me a few days to complete. I explained my feelings, gave examples of her behavior, listed my priorities and expectations and told her that I wasn't going to expend energy into telling her that putting me down, not supporting me, and revealing my private info on a whim, was something I wasn't going to teach her how not to do, that we've been friends this long and I expected more from her. I did show her some love for the things I admired about her but ended the letter with the notice that I wouldn't be contributing to the friendship anymore and that I was going to come first.
I felt guilty since there wasn't a "hint" about me ending the friendship other than making up excuses to avoid hanging out, not answering the phone, or only talking for a few minutes as opposed to 3-4 hours, etc., I still felt like maybe I should have talked to her first, that maybe she truly is unaware, and maybe that's true, but still, I may have messed up throughout our friendship, said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, acted impulsively, and took parts of our friendship for granted, I didn't dedicate my time in doing what she did to me. I put my effort in changing so I wouldn't repeat my behavior so we could continue our friendship. I don't know, regardless, I know that this was a lesson for me to learn how to communicate sooner and actively set boundaries rather than waiting until the last minute--I have a lot to work on but this was a wake-up call. Once I made up my mind that this was something I didn't want to fix and that I felt more comfortable with saying what I needed, I knew that this was the best option.
So, I sent her the letter today, blocked her on everything, Spotify included, blocked our mutuals which they're moving out of state in two months anyways, ate a croissant, and now I'm here, writing all of this out.
At first I felt so guilty, anxious, and it broke my heart when I realized that she wasn't who I thought she was, that she could never be the person I wanted. She told me she had abandonment issues once and I felt like I was abandoning her ruthlessly, but I felt that she "abandoned" me by not treating me like a person anymore. I love and care for her, but was she truly a best friend? I'm starting to believe that she wasn't and that maybe at one point she was, but I know who we were in high school and when we first came back together is long gone now.
I'm sorry for this being a novel, I had a lot to get out of my system. Now that its been a few hours since I've sent the letter, It feels nice, I'm still sad and guilty over it, but it feels like theres a vacancy, not a bad one, but one that I can actually breathe in, an oxygen bubble, an open-floor plan instead of feeling like I was in a blank, cramped room with no door.
I really only have my mom now, but she's happy that I left and I'm greatful that I have her. I feel hopeful for once, that I can open myself up to new people without feeling like I was completely occupied, that I now have the energy to do so, and that she isn't the last person on Earth, I'll find others who I can share myself with and build a friendship with that will support and uplift me--I'll find the reciprocity that I've been aching for.
I still love her and I do wish the best for her and I wish I could have been by her side to see us grow together, but it has to be like this and I know its not only what's best, it's necessary if I want to do the things I want to do. Got to keep walking.
submitted by No-Cloud9055 to NarcissisticAbuse [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:24 PositiveAd7108 Lonely and scared

I'm so lonely and afraid. I was brought up a "cultural christian" in that my family did not attend church, read the bible or seek God to my knowledge. I got married in my early 20's to a non-believer as I was a non-believer at that time too. From the age of 22 to 31 was non-stop difficulty. My marriage was absolutely terrible. I was cheated on and with my friend too. I was not an angel either. I went to strip clubs because of my loneliness (no excuse). I did much more sin than that but this would be a book if I were to put all of the sins I was involved in. I got divorced when I was 31 and began my search for truth. I read the bible cover to cover twice that year. I read the bible during lunch, at night, in my hotel when I traveled for work. I listened to christian ministers in my car when I drove. I bought commentaries on various bible chapters. I still did not know Jesus yet. I believed what I read but did not understand things like the Trinity and did not understand yet that Jesus is God. I was diligently seeking the Lord. A year after the divorce, she came back in my life. More unbelievable difficulty would follow. After a couple of years of just non-stop sadness and tears, things settled down and we got re-married and my marriage was really good for about 14 years. I was living believing that I was a saved christian but was not. I did not believe every word of the bible at that time. Out of nowhere my wife left me in 2019. I was stunned. Then COVID hit in 2020. When covid hit, it was really difficult. My wife kept leaving, them coming back multiple times. My tears were non-stop it seemed. I really sought God and searched for all of the biblical evidence I could find and the Lord brought me to believe every word of the bible. During all of the this time, I stopped drinking ( I was an alcoholic), I stopped using nicotine, I stopped looking at porn. I became very regimented. I would get up a 5 am work out for an hour, go to work, come home, work out, go to bed. Certainly I read the bible, prayed, and talked with God too. Ultimately, we split up again. My faith is an issue to her but I told her I will not give up my faith because it is true. So we sold our house and we both bought separate houses. Shortly after, we started seeing each other again and over that year, she moved into my home with me. Then I guess my gas tank was just so empty. I just did not feel I had anything left in me. I felt so tired emotionally and drained. So I started drinking again. Not heavily (one or two drinks on Friday night and maybe one or two on Saturday night but still I feel drinking is a sin and should not be doing it. I also started daily smoking pot and using nicotine lozenges. This year I also started to become demotivated at work. I'm just not doing what I know I need to at work. So here I am now. I have christian friends but I'm just so ashamed to tell them about all of my struggles. I have shared some but not all. I don't know what to do. Some pastors say habitual sin means I am not saved. I know that is not true because I truly know Jesus is Lord with absolutely no doubt at all. I also know that the Trinity is true with no doubt. I also know that Jesus died on the cross to pay for all of our sins once and for all. I know that Jesus rose from the dead on the 3rd day and is at the right hand of power. I keep reading how I need to do this or that but aren't I supposed to rely on Jesus to heal me? Some folks say habitual sin means I'm not saved or that God will abandon me. All I know is that the bible says all that call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. And that whoever confesses with their mouth that Jesus is Lord and know in their heart that he rose from the dead, they shall be saved. I just don't understand why I am sinning so much and why the Lord hasn't delivered me from my sexual desires, drinking, smoking pot and using nicotine. I cry every single day and have for many years. I'm not depressed, I don't have or deal with emotional issues. I'm just heart broken that I sin so much. It would be great if I had someone to talk with. I'm literally crying right now. Thank you for listening and may God Bless each and every one of you.
submitted by PositiveAd7108 to Christian [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:20 pleasenotagain001 Manchester Grand Hyatt San Diego Review

Took the wife and kid down to San Diego for a 3 night stay. First time staying here and have heard wonderful things about this hotel.
However, once we got to our room. We found it to be in terrible shape. We were in the harbor tower on the 31st floor. The overflow cap in the bathtub fell off on the first day. The bed skirt had a large rip in it. The wood veneer on the couch was coming off. The fake leather on the couch cushions were flaking off. The room was not maintained. We told the front desk and they sent someone from maintenance next day who came and put some blue tape on the overflow valve and caulked it. It looked horrible and didn’t even secure the cap back. It was just barely stuck on. Nothing else was really addressed. They did apologize and gave us $150 hotel credit which was kind of them but the deficiencies in the room was pretty glaring. I asked to change rooms and they said they would work on it but didn’t offer it until after we had already stayed 2 nights. The hot tub was also out of order. Overall, I was pretty disappointed with this property and probably will not stay here again.
Redeeming aspects: 1. The club lounge which had pretty good food for both breakfast and dinner which was a huge help to us since we had an 11 month old and it wasn’t easy getting around. 2. The gym was also pretty nice and large and I enjoyed working out there. 3. The arcade was very convenient and our kid enjoyed playing there.
TLDR: Room was very dilapidated. Hotel staff very friendly but compensation was too little too late. Good club lounge but wouldn’t stay here again.
submitted by pleasenotagain001 to hyatt [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:11 WolverineNo2693 I’m dreading going to my best friend’s wedding

Bit of a rant. One of my best friend’s weddings is coming up in June and I am absolutely dreading both the events leading up to the wedding and the wedding itself. I’m in the wedding party as well so it feels like I’m expected to attend everything.
The bachelorette party is turning out to be a WHOLE WEEKEND I have to spend with people I barely know going out every night to clubs, bars, etc. It sounds like a nightmare quite honestly. The wedding also includes a whole cottage weekend afterwards, again with some of my friends but also some people I’ve never met. The idea of having to be ‘on’ and in a good mood around strangers for two consecutive weekends straight is just agony.
I feel weird for dreading these things but I love being alone, I love spending time in my own space, sleeping in my own bed, knowing exactly when my meals are, not having to make small talk with strangers. I’ve already declined to stay in the hotel that was booked for the bachelorette just so I could stay at my own place close by. Everyone probably already thinks I’m weird for doing that.
Sometimes I wish I had a more extroverted attitude for events like these, but alas, I’ll be clawing my way through it just waiting for the moment I can have some alone time again. Not really looking for advice, just wanted to vent I guess
submitted by WolverineNo2693 to socialanxiety [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:01 FarbatosXD In which the author finally gets to tell a guest off

This is an ongoing tale but I've been wanting to share its progression for quite a few days now, plus it has been going on for quite some time now. You can look up the sort of property I work at from my post history, though the only necessary piece of information for this tale is that this is in Europe.
Do take a seat, I'm not keeping it short.
The cast goes as such: Me - yours truly, FDA Anna - an FDA coworker of mine Ray - returning problem guest from abroad
Our tale begins on a cold winter night, the month I can't quite recall. I've got the night shift, 7pm to 7am, still waiting for some arrivals. In walks Jay with a reservation from Hostelchairs, CC guaranteed but not pre-paid. As we're going through the paperwork he asks if I could guess where he's from. I'd just finished scanning his passport when he asked that but I did not think to look at the passport itself or the data that we just received in our system, going only by his last name I took a wild guess and nearly hit a bullseye - the general area he's from tends to have languages and cultures overlap way past country borders. Moving on, while still making small talk I ask how he would like to pay for the room - he insists he's already paid. I double check both our system and Hostelchairs but he's only ever given a guarantee. We have a little back and forth about this but eventually he pays out and heads for his room.
Months later he pops in again, this time with a membership to our brand and starts staying rather regularly - every two or three weeks, always for 5 or so nights. Some time goes by and my coworkers begin telling me how he always comes by the front desk to chat, especially when Anna is in. I jokingly mention he might have a crush on her - she is an attractive young woman after all. This is where the end of the fun begins. A few days go by and Anna says that Ray found her on social media, started messaging her, too. She's declining any and all advances he's trying to make but he keeps on trying. It's at this time we start getting to know more about him. It was pretty obvious he was in our city for business since he always came and went in expensive looking suits and always had a really nice car pick him up in front of the hotel. Turns out he's a CEO of at least one company, co-founder in some others and the heir to another pretty big company in his home country. And he's begun to try his luck more and more often, and more and more agressively. The moment we realized trouble might be brewing was when he had one of his associates - his goons, we call them - bring a 250$ bouqet of roses to Anna while she was working at the front desk. This associate didn't even ask if she'd accept them, just asked if she was indeed Anna and shoved the bouqet in her hands, turned around and left.
She went on to try and shut him down on a near daily basis now, to no avail.
Some more shenanigans happen, he hosts a couple of his own events at our confetence rooms (because they've been kicked out of all their previous locations) but nevertheless, let us fast forward to just a little over a month ago. I wasn't present for this part of the story, I've only heard it from my coworkers.
Anna was just relieved after her night shift and was leaving, when just outside the door he got in front of her and wouldn't let her go on her way, always stepping in front of her when she tried to get past him. He wanted her to get in his car, go somewhere with him for a date and let him take her home. Drew noticed and told him to leave her alone, which provided sufficient enough at the time.
After all this, Anna did not think it necessary to bring all this to management's attention because she didn't want to be the talk of the company and because from her own perspective she was handling it just fine - or at least this is what she told me.
After another time skip of three weeks, I go to relieve Anna from the night shift - Ray is seemingly just checking out. Turns out he'd been there for at least 10 minutes when I got there and stayed there for 15 more. As she was handing the shift over he kept interrupting us with questions to Anna, mostly regarding why he can't find her on social media anymore - and repeatedly asking for her number after being told flat no-s each and every time. It was the fifth time he'd asked when I couldn't just listen to it anymore and told him 'Look, if she said no then she said no. Knock it off.' He looked baffled for a moment then turned around and went to stand at the lobby windows for a solid 15 minutes. During these 15 minutes Anna went and changed from her uniform and came back to relax in the back office located just behind the front desk until she were to leave for her train. Not long after she entered the office Ray came up to my desk and started going off on me mostly about how:, -he's a customer, and a VIP at that (yeah, you always book through whichever 3rd party you find cheapest, not exactly a VIP), -he's very good friends with my GM (GM has never even seen this man, he probably meant our coworker from Sales who arranged his events) -he's going to own this company very soon (it's in Chinese hands at the very end of the chain, good luck getting it from them) -none of what's happening around me is my business (it literally is, especially if it concerns the safety of my colleagues) -I should just stick to doing my job and nothing else (see above) -and that he never wants to see me again. (I'm assuming he meant he's going to get me fired. Spoiler: not happening)
Now, this guy is not that threatening, I'm a 5'9" guy with some pounds to spare. He's a good few inches taller than me, and he was trying his very best to scare me with his body language, too - and he did manage to trigger my fight or flight response. I am sorry to say that I did not give him the decking I believe he deserved but it did take pretty much all my willpower to stand still and not do anything stupid.
After his rent he left the lobby - but this is not the last we heard of him that day, though, seeing as this post is already a wall of text, I'll return to tell the remainder at another time.
submitted by FarbatosXD to TalesFromTheFrontDesk [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:59 ScarletBurn An American's crazy living-situation. Yes, I've moved 6 times in 9 months. Here's how

I moved a grand total of 6 times during this time period. Some by choice, others by — well — not by choice.
So, after finishing University in my hometown, Florida, I became very bored of the mundane "work, eat, sleep" life. So, I sporadically booked a flight to the sunniest place in Germany — Freiburg im Breisgau. I took a German class in highschool, so I thought why not learn another language while I'm out and about in a place I've never been before. I enrolled in a language school, where they would provide me a visa that lasted 1 year. Now here's where things get juicy.
I arrived by plane (obviously) and was escorted by the language school to my 'family'. I chose to live with a host family because I wanted to learn about German culture, and I wanted to really get into the whole "language speaking" thing. When I arrived, a woman greeted me at the door. She was in her mid 50s, and very tiny. I greeted her and quickly found out that she didn't speak any English. Like, at all. But that was okay with me because that means that I'd be forced to speak German. The issue is that she didn't really speak much German either. Well, somewhere between A2 and B1. Better than me, but... you know. I made myself comfortable in my room and went downstairs for dinner.
Two other students joined us. I asked through Google translate why they were here, because I was informed that I would be the only student. She said that Turkish would be better for her because she didn't understand the question when it was presented in german. It turns out that I was the only student from MY language school. She was working with other language schools, and hosted up to 6 students at a time. Okay, cool. I respect the grind!
I quickly befriended a few people at the language school. These students also had host families, and rambled on about how wonderful they were. Evidently, these hosts made breakfast for the students. It was in the contract, but I assumed that it was optional for the host to provide breakfast. I asked my host 'mom' why I didn't have breakfast and she replied that she didn't want to get up that early, because work for her starts at 10am. ( I leave the house at 8am) I asked if it would be possible for her to provide me with some sort of salami or cheese for breakfast every now and then. She begrudgingly agreed, and the next day I was provided with the worst quality salami I've ever seen in my life. (No offence to Netto) Keep in mind I'm paying this woman 990 euros a month for an 8m² room that includes breakfast and dinner. Yikes.
I offered for her to pay me back a few euros so I could make my own breakfast. She told me that she wasn't able to do that, because she needed the money. So, I had to buy my own things for breakfast. One day, she told me that I was taking up too much fridge space. I didn't understand exactly what she meant because her Turkish accent was very hard to understand, so I nodded my head and moved all of my things to the corner of the fridge. (It was 4 items: salami, cheese, mayo, and mustard) She raised an eyebrow at me, sighed, and left the room. One of the students who was sitting in the kitchen at the time told me that she told me to remove my things from the fridge altogether because they were taking up space and it was disrespectful. Oh man. Okay. I just threw everything away because I was so frustrated.
She also had these weird "rules" I had to follow.
- Doing laundry was 5 euros per load.
- I was not to open the window at night. It was SO hot at night and I would wake up at 4am with my bedsheets drenched in sweat. She said that if I wanted to wash my bedsheets more than once very other week, I would be charged accordingly.
- If I had a friend come over, it was 30 euros if they stayed past 9pm.
- No meat was to be eaten unless it was a Friday.
- No alcohol (I'm 23 years old???)
But I sucked up these rules becuase at the end of the day, it was HER house. I just thought that because I was paying a large sum for so little, I'd be allowed a little more control.
Anyway, a week or two after me moving in, my host mom asked me to come with her to meet her friends. I felt like we got off on the wrong foot so I thought I'd tag along. Keep in mind this is August, so it's about 28C outside. I wore a tank top and some pants. When I greeted her outside, she looked me up and down and told me to change. Politely, though. I changed into one of my sleeveless turtlenecks. When she saw this, she sighed and handed me her jacket. Weird, I thought, but it was a friendly gesture — right? Hmm. We drove to a park nearby our village and there was a large group of people waiting for us. They were all dressed rather modestly for the weather, but I thought nothing of it. She then explains to me that she's a Jehovah's Witness, and that this is a Jehovah's Witness meeting. Oh, okay. I have no issues with religion, but MAN. I'll spare you the details. Everyone at the meeting was incredibly kind, but they kept on trying to talk to me about God and the Bible.
They added me to a groupchat and told me to meet with them every Friday. If I wasn't able to make it in person, then I could join on Zoom. I didn't know what to say. It was around this time that I got a message from the school saying that they were going to move me to a new host family. Just my luck! This was because she was going to see her mother for 3 months in Turkey.
A few days after I got the notice, I was scheduled to be picked up and driven across the village by my new host 'dad'. He was a German man in his late 60s. He seemed to be kind although kinda' standoff-ish. My room was above his. Great! It was nearly 28m², and I had tons of light flowing into my room. He told me the rules of the house. Pretty basic and very understandable. However, there was something that stuck out to me. I had to ring the doorbell every time I wanted to use the kitchen.
I asked him why. He said "I'm a nudist, so I must make myself presentable when you come down." Oh god, okay. It's HIS house, ya know? I asked him about midnight snacks, because I occasionally come home late (over the weekend) and during the week I generally eat later. He said that it wouldn't be possible for me to use the kitchen past 10pm. He added that no snacks were allowed in my room. Sternly, he told me that my "late nights" would have to come to an end. Hah! I asked my German friends if this was normal and they said he was "just being German".
There was a butcher shop about a 4 minute walk from the house, so I thought I'd get him a "welcome" gift. I knew he ate meat, because for dinner we ate weinerschnitzel. I picked out a nice link of salami and handed it to him the next time we sat down for dinner. He seemed to be pleased. He asked where I bought it from, and I told him it was from the nearby butcher shop. When I say the atmosphere changed, it CHANGED. He looked down on me with a slight glare and said "I do not want such a thing. Do you know where this meat is from? I do not know. That shop probably treats the animals horribly. I do not support that." Well, the rest of dinner was awkward.
There was an instance where two Italian students were staying with us, and we had dinner with them. They spoke B2 German, and I was still at A1 (if that, honestly). They were chatting up a storm and I sat quietly and tried to listen. One of the Italian girls asked me in German if I was shy and I told her that I wasn't but I just couldn't keep up with the conversation. The host 'dad' laughed and told them in English that I "refused to speak German" because "[my] German was embarassingly bad." Hmm, that didn't feel too good. I didn't speak to him in German ever again and till this very day I struggle with speaking because I keep hearing him in my head. Ah!
Now, around this time (about 2.5 months in) I've been making more local friends and they've been telling me that I can easily rent my own apartment for the amount of money I'm paying the school. The thought of independance got me excited, so I called up the school and said HEY, refund me all the money for the host families — I'm moving into my OWN place! I hopped on WG Gesucht and found a room with a guy right in the city center of Freiburg. Hell yeah! 350 Euros a month, too. The lease was limited to about 3 months, though.
The man was in his early 30s and he told me that he preferred to keep a quiet household. Totally fair, as I literally lived in the livingroom and there wasn't much space for guests. Throughout my whole stay, he probably spoke a good 30 combined minutes to me. Like, in total. These 30 minutes consisted of him telling me to limit my bath time to 5 minutes. I'm not saying he would stand outside the bathroom and count the seconds I was in the tub, but he would coincidentally knock on the door and tell me that my 5 minutes was up whenever he was home. When I told him that I wouldn't mind sending him extra money for the water usage, he said "Oh, would you like to support the Russian government?" Uh, what? I gave up on showering/bathing when he was around. He charged me 70 euros extra anyway, and said that he didn't have the water bill on paper but that these costs were correct.
While all of this was taking place, my language school friends convinced me to download Tinder. Sure, why not. After a few dates with some kind men, I met this German guy "Steve" and we clicked pretty well. He unfortunately had a ski trip planned for when I moved out, so I wasn't able to stay with him in his apartment while I searched for my own.
Anyway, I went back on WG Gesucht in an effort to find another room/flat to stay in. And I did! Oh, it was lovely. A 1 bed 1 bath, 70m right next to the Alt Stadt. I could finally have privacy! I spoke with the landlord and she gave me the greenlight to rent till August of 2023. Perfect! I was to sign a contract 2 weeks before the move-in date. When the sign-date arrived, I got a call from her saying "actually we decided to give this to a different tenant. Thank you for your time!" Ooookay, so I'm basically homeless in 2 weeks. I spoke with my current landlord, and he told me I could stay an extra 2 weeks till I found a place. Great! I went back on the WG-Gesucht grind again. I found an even BETTER apartment closer to the city center, and the landlord seemed to be lovely. Just 3 days before I moved in, I got a text from the current landlord saying that they were unable to offer me the apartment due to an "unforseen circumstance". Bro. What? I'm going to be homeless in 3 days. Are you serious? I signed a contract and everything.
Well, it turns out that the contract wasn't valid because they weren't the landlords. They're tenants. And their "landlord" IS ALSO A TENANT. Apparently the actual landlord found out that they were subleasing illegally, so they were being evicted. How fun!
So at this point, I'm pretty desperate. The friends I made were gone, because guess what. It's almost December, and everyone flew back home. My German friends are all students so they went back to their little German villages in the middle of nowhere and couldn't take me. I desperately put ads up on Kleinanzeigen and WG Gesucht, but to no avail. Everyone is on vacation! Hotels were 100+ Euros a night, but it seemed that that was the only option. I found an Airbnb that charged only 650 euros for 15 nights, which should give me enough time to find another room. So I booked my stay. Just a day before I moved out, I recieved a message on Kleinanzeigen. A room in Waldkirch — a village about a 25 minute train ride away. Fine. I'll take it. When I tell you I RAN into that apartment, I was literally shaking the landlords hand with teary eyes telling her how much I appreciated it.
I canceled my AirBnB, but they didn't give any refunds. Yeah, it was in the description before I made the purchase, but I'd rather live in my own little room in the mountains than some 12m room shared with absolute strangers. So, I'm out 650 bucks — BUT I HAVE A PLACE! My current landlord charged me 45 euros because I begged for one extra night. He didn't even have anyone moving in my room for another 2 weeks, but oh well.
Back to Waldkirch. Now, this cute little place was in an Altbau tucked between the mountains. It was wonderful. The kitchen was all cute and old, Edeka was a 1 minute walk away, there was a local market that was open every Saturday and Sunday... the people around me were all 60+ and smiled when I attempted to speak German to them. God, I loved it. My landlord also would cook for me when she had free time. I had my own little bathroom and I had a castle view from my window. My room was also nearly 30m²!
Unfortunately, the landlord told me that I had to be out by Feburary. However, I was becoming closer with Steve, the Tinder guy. He had a temporary job in Freiburg and because it was coming to an end and he was going to start Med school in Berlin, things seemed pretty gloomy. But I had this crazy thought. Because my language school was in two locations, Freiburg and Berlin, I could just switch schools and still legally reside in Germany. I could just... live with him. Crazy? Crazy. My parents and friends threw a fit. Anyway, I packed my bags and moved in with him to Frankfurt, where his parents stayed. Best month of my life. I made sure everything was okay at my language school, and we made the switch.
So, now we had to hunt for an apartment in Berlin. And man, let me tell you guys. That's HARD. After a while of searching, we finally landed a place in Moabit. March, April, and May have passed. Unfortunately for us, our lease ends in August. So guess who's moving again! Me! At least now I have someone with me to hold my hand through this stressful process. (If anyone has any long-term flats for rent... help!)
I've fallen too in love with this man because I'm now about to apply for the self employment visa so I can stay in germany until his med school finishes. It's been a crazy ride, but I'm so glad I came to Germany. Maybe I'll make a post about all of the other crazy non-housing related German stories!
submitted by ScarletBurn to germany [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:58 StevenDJackson The quiet ones

I suppose I’m glad Amy took her laptop to the campsite. Well, not glad obviously. It’s hard to be glad of anything when I know my life can now be measured in minutes, but thanks to her need to be connected to everything all the time I can tell our story in the time I have left.
I’m currently lying on my back in a hotel room which I am struggling to accept will be my tomb. The bed is comfortable, the lights are bright, the TV on the wall is huge. It all seems so friendly and welcoming. My heart is fluttering like I’ve been running, but it’s just fear. Adrenaline. It’s like my heart’s trying to act as alive as it possibly can, to squeeze a lifetime of beating into these last frenzied moments. It’s finding this as difficult to accept as I am, the fact that I will die here before the dawn slips over the horizon, when there’s really no reason why we couldn’t have carried on for another sixty or seventy years.
But there is a reason. And it’s a reason I need to tell you about, whilst I try not to listen to the desperate thumping in my chest, each rhythmic beat counting down to a grand finale I’ve come to almost accept is now inevitable. Almost. The occasional stab of hysterical fear still grips me, but there’s nothing I can do. Not against them.
They call them the Quiet Ones, or at least that’s what the old man told me. It’s the name the old folks gave to the shapes in the dark, the things that crouch in the shadow just beyond the edge of sight. They are the ones that creep unseen through the underbrush at night and dance beneath the moon away from the eyes of humans.
And so they would have remained, living alongside us in their dark, hidden world, if we had not broken the ancient laws –
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It was a sunny morning as we drove up. I can hardly believe this was only two days ago; my friends were still alive then. I mustn’t think about how many times we could have turned back, how many words I could have used to change the plan.
I knew there was something wrong with that place. Of course there were no signs, no warnings of any physical kind to prevent us driving off the road three miles before the campsite and crashing off through the undergrowth. I almost feel that we were being drawn there, and perhaps we were. In fact, I’m sure we were.
The car was being scraped and brushed mercilessly by the overhanging trees, and more than once I asked Amy if she was sure this was even a trail let alone a road. She insisted she’d seen a sign of some kind along the road, though she couldn’t describe it. It was like a mixture of confusion and pride alone was keeping her foot pressed on the accelerator. We bumped and jolted along, the two boys grinning widely in the back, until at last the mud-track opened up into a clearing.
The grassy area was maybe fifty feet across, surrounded on all sides by thick forest. Old trees stretched up around us, their old and gnarled branches reaching like twisted fingers into the darkening sky. As I got out of the car, I realised how deathly quiet it was. I could hear nothing of the road we’d left behind, though it couldn’t be more than a mile or two behind us, and no birds fluttered above. It was like the world was holding its breath, or perhaps that the world itself was just…different…here.
I wanted to leave more or less the moment I stepped out of that car and looked up at those horrible trees. I’d looked up the campsite we were actually aiming for and it had showers, a club house, a coffee and bacon sandwich van in the mornings. This was a clearing in a forest, and I did not want to be there.
The boys, of course, loved it. We’d barely stopped before they started pulling the bags out and setting up the camp, almost falling over themselves to be the first to get their tent up. Amy and I watched them with that resigned, world-weary expression female friends of overgrown man-children tend to adopt when they get together and act – well, like overgrown man-children. I remember watching them yelling and shoving one another, enjoying themselves, and not quite being able to shake that horrible sense of foreboding. But nothing I said was taken seriously, and eventually I gave up, resigned to the fact that we were spending the weekend in that dark, quiet place literally in the middle of nowhere.
That night was when it started. We had a fire going, and Tom had his feet too close to it. He didn’t think anything of it, the night was cold and we were all trying to get as close to the flames as possible. But when he stood up to get a beer, he realised his left hiking boot had almost fallen apart. The heat had melted whatever rubbery glue held it together, and the sole was no longer attached. After a lot of laughter, swearing and general hilarity he threw the ruined boot off into the darkness. We didn’t know it at the time, but that was what had sealed our fate.
The next morning Tom was gone. We weren’t worried at first, thinking he’d just gotten up early and wandered off, but then Simon noticed the boot. Melted and ruined. The one Tom had thrown into the darkness. It was sitting, innocently enough, in the tent on his sleeping bag. But there was no sign of Tom.
We all assumed as the morning wore on that Tom had walked into town to buy a new pair of boots. But when he didn’t return by mid-afternoon, what had been a tense atmosphere soon became one of fear. Of course, there was no cell phone reception in that cursed clearing, so we were left with no choice but to search the woods and shout for him. We found nothing. No tracks, no Tom. As the light faded we tried searching with flashlights, but when Amy wandered away and fell into thick stinking mud, losing her flashlight in the process, we abandoned the search. Amy was near hysterical by this point, and I wasn’t far off myself. It was only because I had Simon with me that I was able to cope, and together we took Amy back and got her into our tent. The next morning, we decided, we’d leave in the car and ask around the town, nearly three miles away. Surely that was the only place Tom could have gone.
When I woke the next day Amy was gone. Just gone. On her sleeping bag, as if it had every right to be there, was her flashlight. The one she’d lost in the forest. It was caked in mud, as though it had been pulled from the quagmire by someone and returned to her. I was terrified by this point, but Simon insisted that she must have resumed the search for Tom as soon as the sun rose, and had no doubt walked into town after finding nothing in the woods. She’d known that was our plan anyway, so it made some (though not perfect) sense. We were desperate at this point, on the verge of panic, so I suppose it’s understandable that we weren’t thinking straight. We took Amy’s keys and left for the town; Simon’s face was stony and grim the whole way there. We barely said a word.
No one in town would speak to us about our friends. The villagers simply stared at us, made suggestions about other campsites, acted like they knew nothing. But in their eyes I could see something more. An understanding. A fear. Like they knew perfectly well what was happening but wouldn’t say. Simon said I was being paranoid, and had to drag me out of the police station by force when I lost my self-control and started screaming at the officer behind the desk. He’d barely even blinked, just given me a bland assurance that they’d look into it, without even a hint that he meant it.
The sun was setting by the time we walked with resignation into the little shop by the edge of the village. An old man, careworn and ragged, was about to close up when we arrived. As we silently grabbed sandwiches neither of us wanted, he asked if we were the ones he’d heard were asking about their missing friends. By then I’d given up hope, so those words were like a fire inside me and I almost threw myself over the counter. He smiled sadly, told us there was no chance of finding our friends. He explained to me what I now know; what I didn’t believe at the time.
The Quiet Ones have always stalked us, flitting between the shadows and murky unseen depths just beyond our world. Sometimes, in ancient forgotten places, their world and ours overlap. Out in the dark, untouched wilds, the forests and the mountains, some places remain where the barrier between them and us wears perilously thin. If we keep to our side, they must keep to theirs. But for the unwary fool who strays one dark night too far, beyond the wispy veil of our territory and into the Quiet, only horror awaits. Because the age-old pacts, struck millennia ago by our terrified ancestors, still hold even now. Those who violate their world belong to them; just as it has always been. Tom’s shoe, Amy’s torch. Both carelessly thrown into the darkness, both returned in place of their owners. A terrible balance restored; a terrible bargain fulfilled.
Simon flew into a rage before the old man finished speaking, shouting and threatening like a lunatic. He knocked a stack of papers off the counter as he lunged for the old man, but just then the police officer from the station arrived and curtly demanded that we leave.
I expected Simon to drive us away, to leave the hideous place far behind. But he was incensed, in an impotent fury that stole his reason. I pleaded with him to drive on, but he was just as angry with me for believing the old man’s lies. To prove a point he drove us back to the clearing, and leaping from the car ran into the woods, screaming and daring whatever demons lurked there to show themselves. I was too terrified not to follow, tears streaming down my face, my cries rebounding from the half-seen boughs of ancient trees. Simon was far ahead of me, his hysterical screams echoing into the woods, before they rose in a final horrified shriek and were abruptly cut off. I turned to run and fell in a blind panic. I flailed and thrashed, imagining spiny hands clutching at me, dragging me towards a gloomy otherworld from which I’d never escape. But I got up, and I ran. Somehow I made it back to the clearing, slammed the car into gear and drove away, still crying, heading back to civilisation without looking back.
Shortly after that I arrived here. A cheap hotel by the roadside. Warm and inviting. Thinking I was safe. But then I realised my watch was missing. My left arm was caked in mud, with scratches from where I’d fallen amongst the brambles and roots. I must have left it there. Or somewhere between there and here. The same place the boot had been thrown. The same place the flashlight had been lost. The place where Simon had crossed over and…not returned.
So they’ll be coming for me. I don’t have long. Just enough to warn you.
Remember me, and beware the Quiet Ones.
submitted by StevenDJackson to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:42 reluctantleaders Questions for trip this summer

Hello! My family and I (everyone is at least 25 years old, there will be 4 of us total) are going to Vegas for about a week around July 4th. I have been lurking this subreddit for a while and have gathered some questions I would appreciate any input on! We are staying at the Palazzo for reference.
We'll be landing in Vegas around 10pm. Is it better to pre-book transportation to the Palazzo or just try and get an Uber? Also, any tips on where to get some late night drinks and food near the Palazzo, especially when we're tired from traveling?
I've heard that things like bottled water are crazy expensive in the hotel. Any tips on cheapest place to get some bottled water and maybe liquodrinks to pregame and save some money? Bonus points for somewhere close to the Palazzo.
In terms of shows, we're pretty sure we're going to see Michael Jackson One (mom's choice) and Mac King. I've also suggested "O" by Cirque du Soleil. Mom shot down Absinthe so that's not happening. My sister wants to see "Vegas! The show" to see "show girls". It looks fine to me but nothing amazing, would appreciate insight or alternatives. I also suggested Shin Lim or Mat Franco.
In terms of restaurants, my mom really wants to go to Milos and Piero's. I have a reservation alert set for Piero's but none available right now for our dates. These are other restaurants that have been suggested to us and I would love input-
Capo's Italian, Golden Steer, Delilah, Esther's Kitchen, Bouchon, The Pepper Mill, Bardot (brunch), Cut, SW Steakhouse, Giada's. Also have been recommended to check out Mon Ami Gabi and Yardbird - these are chains that exist where we live already, are they worth visiting in Vegas too?
Any other tips are appreciated! My sister is looking into options for a spa day/afternoon and she's a big pool person so any advice on Palazzo/Venetian pools would be great.
submitted by reluctantleaders to LasVegas [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:29 Gouldie7 Hotel for under 21s

Hey everyone, My daughter is flying into Newark to do Camp America this summer. We're trying to find her a hotel she can stay in for one night, but as she is 19 we are struggling. Are there any hotels that would allow a 19 year old to check in near to the airport?
Thanks in advance
submitted by Gouldie7 to Newark [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:24 RandomAppalachian468 Don't fly over Barron County Ohio. [Repost]

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.
submitted by RandomAppalachian468 to u/RandomAppalachian468 [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:22 ATD3223 Hotel recommendation

Looking for a hotel recommendation for one night near Lake Windermere with a nice restaurant and good breakfast please :) Ideally lake views but not essential
submitted by ATD3223 to LakeDistrict [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:11 rrrreeeeeeeeee A First-Timers List of Stuff

Lots of notes from my first trip to Italy in late May. Maybe this will help other first-timers. We did Rome - Pompeii - Sorrento - Positano - Florence over 10 days.
Cities:
Rome: Get out early in the day. On our best day, we strolled to Trevi fountain before most of the shops had opened. We got to see them clean out the money from the fountain and that was oddly satisfying. By around 10 am...all hell breaks loose. It goes from kind of quiet to 'Where did they all come from?'. If there is a restaurant that you have heard of from Instagram...good luck getting in. Call or visit to put your name down. But here's the deal...we found lots of food options and I swear I never had a bad meal. Some were better than others but...good grief, it's all so damn good.
Vatican: I want to start an online petition to change the name to Catholic Disneyland. We booked a 3-hour tour and from the moment we arrived to the moment we left we were shoulder-to-shoulder with people. It was ridiculous and it made the day very very long. There is so much to take in and you are constantly being jostled by people…I can say I did it and I’d never go back.
Colosseum: We booked an underground tour as well as the main tour and that was amazing. You see where the gladiators came in and how they used to flood the floor of the Coliseum and do naval battles! The tour underground was small and you really got a chance to see how it all worked. Romans were impressive engineers and this spot showcases that.
The Forum: Our Colosseum tour included the Forum and…I liked it better. The view from the top of the Palatine Hill was worth the steps. Our guide really helped to bring this area alive for us.
Pompeii: Book a tour. There is so much and you’d miss half of it if someone wasn’t walking you through. We took an archaeologist tour and it was amazing. 2 hours and it felt like it was over in 20 minutes. You can take a regional train line directly to Pompeii and walk to the entrance. There is free (!!) luggage storage at the gate and the restaurant across the street was pretty good...but 'pretty good' in Italy is still 200x better than 'good' in the US.
Positano: Beautiful to look at…not much to do. Lots of shops…but they’re the same shops you’ll see all over this area. The restaurants were…ok. We went to a beach club, got 2 seats ($70), and paid too much for drinks. It was heaven.
Florence: Recommend walking to the top of Michelangelo Hill for the view. I think I should have been more impressed but by the time we got here it was 'ok...another church...cool....'
Weather: It rained every day we were there. Most of the time it rained in the afternoon. Also, most days the weather forecast never said rain was an option. Not a big deal, but bring a jacket.
AirBnB: Both our AirBnBs were great and hosted by fantastic people. Both were located near Piazzas and the listings did say 'some noise at night'. Ummm....yeah...that 'some noise' lasted until 2 am at both places. Bring. Ear. Plugs. Italians like to have a good time...for a long time.
Stuff:
Crime/Scams: This freaked me out a bit before we left. We bought cross-body bags and kept everything zipped up. Maybe it was too much but we made it through without incident. In Rome if anyone offers you a bracelet or says 'nice shoes' or 'Hey American!', put on your best impression of a new yorker and blow right past them. One guy through a bracelet to my son who instinctively caught it...and threw it back.
On the train from Naples to Pompeii it was standing room only...and about 90 muggy degrees. A guy in a down jacket was eyeing the young woman in front of me and paying very close attention to her bag. Her friends noticed and maneuvered him away from her but it was a reminder that you need to keep your eyes open...especially in crowded situations.
Verizon: We used their TravelPass for $10 a day; unlimited text and data. Having Google Maps and Google Translate whenever we needed it was worth it! Check your Verizon account…we found that we had ‘credits’ for 5 days that we could use!
Viator: We booked all our tours through this app and I could not be more pleased. Maybe we were lucky but all of the 5 tours we booked were fantastic. Would highly recommend it.
Ferryhopper: I would be careful here. We showed up for our trip from Sorrento to Positano. The boat hand looked at our ticket and said ‘I don’t know this ticket, I cannot take it’. There were a few exchanges and they let us on. I asked about it when we left and they said ‘It is best to book with us and not this application. We’ve had trouble’. Thankfully we did not book a return trip and could buy tickets at Positano. Take it for what it is…a warning. You don’t want to be stuck trying to find a ride to or from your destination.
ItaliaRail: Fantastic. Clean trains that were always on time for us. Booked directly through their site and it was effortless. Check the price of business class vs. coach. For us, it was well worth the extra $18 per seat.
Uber: Total bust. You are limited to Uber Black and even then…they may not come and pick you up.
FreeNow in Rome: We used this to book taxis in Rome to pick us up and take us to the train station. Scheduled in advance and the driver showed up without a hitch.
AppTaxi, itTaxi & FreeNow in Florence: So frustrating. I think it might have to do with where we were and the time of day but it was frustrating. Wasn’t feeling my best and a taxi ride would have been helpful. I waited over an hour trying to get someone to pick us up…nothing.
And finally...I’d like to kiss the person on this sub who mentioned Mobile Passport Control. This is an app you use when you return home from Europe. You answer the standard questions, take your photo and the app creates a QR code to use during customs checkout. When we got back to JFK there was a line specifically for MPC users. Our line: 5 people….those who did not use it: 125 people and growing fast. This saved us at least an hour at the end of a 10-hour flight. DOWNLOAD IT NOW!
Ok, that's rambling but I wanted to get it out there. I really appreciate this sub. Reading about other experiences helped me make our 10 days special.
submitted by rrrreeeeeeeeee to ItalyTravel [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:00 DiscoverDurham Things to Do in Durham this Weekend (Jun 1-4)

Check out our full Durham events calendar.
If you'd like to add an event to our calendar, submit an event here. Please check with the event organizers to see if events change due to weather. Have a great weekend!

June Featured Events

53rd Annual Bimbé Cultural Arts Festival at Rock Quarry Park
1776 at DPAC
PLAYlist Concert Series: Raíces, Rutas, y Ritmos at Durham Central Park

Venue Weekend Schedules

Events at The Carolina Theatre
Events at The Pinhook
Events at Motorco Music hall
Events at The Fruit
Live Music at Blue Note Grill
Events at Moon Dog Meadery
Live Music at Sharp 9 Gallery
Events at Arcana
Events at Rubies on Five Points
Events at Durty Bull Brewing Company
Live Comedy at Mettlesome
Events at Boxyard RTP
Events at Glass Jug Beer Lab in RTP
Events at Glass Jug Beer Lab in Downtown Durham

Local Sports

Durham Bulls Home Stand at the Durham Bulls Athletic Park
Running of the Bulls 8K at Historic Durham Athletic Park

Thursday, Jun 1

Thirsty Thursdays at Dashi
Vinyl Night with DJ Deckades at Gizmo Brew Works
Boulders & Brews Meetup at Triangle Rock Club - Durham
Trivia Night w/Big Slow Tom at Clouds Brewing Brightleaf Square

Friday, Jun 2

Tasting at Ten at Counter Culture Coffee
Garden Printing: Cyanotypes and Hammered Flower Prints on Fabric at Duke Campus Farm

Saturday, Jun 3

Durham Farmers’ Market at Durham Central Park
South Durham Farmers' Market at Greenwood Commons Shopping Center
parkrun Durham at Southern Boundaries Park
Hayti Walking History Tour at Hayti Heritage Center
Nasher Community Celebration at the Nasher Museum of Art
MAKRS Pop-up at Durham Central Park
Crafternoons at Gizmo Brew Works
Beaver Queen Pageant — Once Upon a Wetland... at Duke Park

Sunday, Jun 4

Al Strong Presents Jazz Brunch at Alley Twenty Six
Art-n-Soul Market at Mystic Farm & Distillery
Public Tour at Duke Chapel
Trivia at Navigator Beverage Co.

Running Art Exhibits

upstART Gallery: A Jim Lee Project at Pop Box Gallery
Exhibit at 21c Museum Hotel
“Extra-Spectral” at the Durham Art Guild Truist Gallery
Donna Stubbs, Featured Artist at 5 Points Gallery
Chieko Murasugi & Renzo Ortega at Craven Allen Gallery
Spirit in the Land at the Nasher
Andy Warhol: You Look Good in Pictures at the Nasher
Art of Peru at the Nasher
submitted by DiscoverDurham to bullcity [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:49 kylebryant150 Am I making a mistake pursuing a lost friendship

I am currently working to regain my friendship with someone after cutting them off 2 months ago.
For context, I (27M) live in the United States and was friends with this person (24F) who live in the United Kingdom. We met off of the app Whisper 3 years ago when we were both going through some troubling times in our relationship. In the beginning we were only scarcely talking due to the distance and time. But then after a week or two of chatting we got into a rhythm and began talking more and more. This went on for 3 months and in that time we developed feeling, contemplated meeting up after CoVID and possible dating. Well one day that idea was dropped when she decide to return to her ex. I supported her and moved on with my life. We stayed friends however and talk everyday for 3 years.
Well fast forward some time. It has finally come to the opportunity to meet in person. I board my flight, which was hell to get on due to a booking mistake that nearly had me not on it. Flew there and met here. A whole bunch of unfortunate things happened that cause our initial meet up to go sour. Popped two tires, the whole flight thing, and my hotel was shit. But nevertheless I was out there and wanted to spend time with my "best friend". I will definition myself as extroverted and her as introverted. And I can definitely say that I pushed my personality a bit much but only to mask my frustration from all the terrible crap that happened so far.
Well time went by, we got the car fixed and i was on my way home. Barely spent anytime with her beside 4 hours maybe. But i was happy enough. After the trip was over I came back home and resumed my life. Messaged her like normal and everything. But notice she was being distant. Chalked it up to nothing, but then I saw the gift I got her on Facebook for sale. Confronted her about it and she gave a half-ass excuse. Then she became even more distant, Confronted her on this and she states she wants to be more in the present with those around her mainly because she was now pregnant, which i knew. Was the first person she told. Was upset but just asked she try and not push me out. But then I saw that she blocked me on Facebook. Confronted her on that now very pissed and she said it's nothing. Clearly it was and I, who is very pissed yelled how she is clearly ending the friendship but I a disrespectful way. Well I cut all communications between us one night. Blocked on all socials and phone. Deleted her photos and put her gift in my attic. Haven't chatted in 2 months.
Present day; I bought her a gift off of her Amazon wishlist with the tag saying to add baby stuff she wants to her wish list. I want to go back to talking to her but at the same time I'm not sure if I should. My wife thinks I'm to nice and should just drop her bur also understand why I don't want to. I am married with a child too. Should I continue my pursuit for that friendship or leave it be.
Side note she did come off of hormonal birth control she has been taking for like 10yrs 2 months prior to our falling out. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt as I know that has a major effect on women's body and mind.
submitted by kylebryant150 to FriendshipAdvice [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:48 Needylovely Need advice on getting my money back

I’m mid April my partner and I stayed one night at quality inn near Atlanta ga. They took a refundable 100$ deposit for damages, smoking etc. no problem. We don’t smoke or cause mischief anyways. We leave next day and front desk tells us we will get in 3-5 bunisness days. We don’t. After my 3rd call to them they fix it on a Wednesday . On Friday they pull out another 100$. Wtf?! Well we get the first 100 back but no one can tell me why the second one pulled. Weeks go by , I can’t reach a manager. He’s never in. Finally a lady is able to tell me it’s because we smoked in the room. We never did and I say this slightly angrily.She says the manager will call me. This mysterious manager never does no matter how many times I call or leave my name and number. I’m going to be leaving a complaint with choice hotels and calling my bank but what else can I do to get my money back?
submitted by Needylovely to askhotels [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:15 Mizzno [H] Games [W] Lost Ruins, Lone Fungus, Offers

For sale, for Steam gift cards (or gifted Steam Wallet balance):
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For trade:
*tentatively up for trade, assuming I buy the bundle
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WANT:
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IGS Rep Page: https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/ti26nz/mizznos_igs_rep_page/
submitted by Mizzno to indiegameswap [link] [comments]