Morning call obits

I tried to make ChatGPT create its version of the 1001 albums, for some reason it stopped at the 47ish line and when I tried in sections it repeated many releases. making a 1001 list would take more time that I thought so here are the 100 top albums according to ChatGPT today (2023/04/01). How do you feel about it, only two Beatles, and no Abbey Road.
1 The Beatles - "Revolver" -1966
2 Bob Dylan - "Highway 61 Revisited" -1965
3 The Beach Boys - "Pet Sounds" -1966
4 The Rolling Stones - "Exile on Main St." -1972
5 Pink Floyd - "The Dark Side of the Moon" -1973
6 The Jimi Hendrix Experience - "Are You Experienced" -1967
7 The Velvet Underground - "The Velvet Underground & Nico" -1967
8 Led Zeppelin - "Led Zeppelin IV" -1971
9 Nirvana - "Nevermind" -1991
10 Radiohead - "OK Computer" -1997
11 Miles Davis - "Kind of Blue" -1959
12 John Coltrane - "A Love Supreme" -1965
13 Charles Mingus - "The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady" -1963
14 Aretha Franklin - "I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You" -1967
15 James Brown - "Live at the Apollo" -1963
16 Stevie Wonder - "Songs in the Key of Life" -1976
17 Michael Jackson - "Thriller" -1982
18 Prince - "Purple Rain" -1984
19 The Clash - "London Calling" -1979
20 David Bowie - "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars" -1972
21 The Smiths - "The Queen is Dead" -1986
22 Joy Division - "Unknown Pleasures" -1979
23 The Cure - "Disintegration" -1989
24 Public Enemy - "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back" -1988
25 Wu-Tang Clan - "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)" -1993
26 Dr. Dre - "The Chronic" -1992
27 N.W.A. - "Straight Outta Compton" -1988
28 Black Sabbath - "Paranoid" -1970
29 Deep Purple - "Machine Head" -1972
30 AC/DC - "Back in Black" -1980
31 Metallica - "Master of Puppets" -1986
32 Guns N' Roses - "Appetite for Destruction" -1987
33 Fleetwood Mac - "Rumours" -1977
34 The Eagles - "Hotel California" -1976
35 Bob Marley and the Wailers - "Exodus" -1977
36 Steely Dan - "Aja" -1977
37 Joni Mitchell - "Blue" -1971
38 Carole King - "Tapestry" -1971
39 Neil Young - "Harvest" -1972
40 Van Morrison - "Moondance" -1970
41 The Doors - "The Doors" -1967
42 Jefferson Airplane - "Surrealistic Pillow" -1967
43 The Who - "Who's Next" -1971
44 Queen - "A Night at the Opera" -1975
45 Elton John - "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" -1973
46 Fleetwood Mac - "Tusk" -1979
47 Prince - "Sign o' the Times" -1987
48 The Police - "Synchronicity" -1983
49 U2 - "The Joshua Tree" -1987
50 Radiohead - "Kid A" -2000
51 Arcade Fire - "Funeral" -2004
52 Sufjan Stevens - "Illinois" -2005
53 Kendrick Lamar - "To Pimp a Butterfly" -2015
54 Kanye West - "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy" -2010
55 Beyoncé - "Lemonade" -2016
56 Taylor Swift - "1989" -2014
57 Frank Ocean - "Blonde" -2016
58 Outkast - "Aquemini" -1998
59 The Roots - "Things Fall Apart" -1999
60 Beastie Boys - "Paul's Boutique" -1989
61 Run-DMC - "Raising Hell" -1986
62 Blondie - "Parallel Lines" -1978
63 Patti Smith - "Horses" -1975
64 Lou Reed - "Transformer" -1972
65 Iggy Pop - "Lust for Life" -1977
66 Pixies - "Doolittle" -1989
67 Sonic Youth - "Daydream Nation" -1988
68 My Bloody Valentine - "Loveless" -1991
69 The Stone Roses - "The Stone Roses" -1989
70 The Jesus and Mary Chain - "Psychocandy" -1985
71 Oasis - "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?" -1995
72 The Verve - "Urban Hymns" -1997
73 Massive Attack - "Blue Lines" -1991
74 Portishead - "Dummy" -1994
75 DJ Shadow - "Endtroducing....." -1996
76 Daft Punk - "Discovery" -2001
77 LCD Soundsystem - "Sound of Silver" -2007
78 Vampire Weekend - "Modern Vampires of the City" -2013
79 Arctic Monkeys - "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not" -2006
80 Tame Impala - "Currents" -2015
81 Pink Floyd - "Animals" -1977
82 The Rolling Stones - "Beggars Banquet" -1968
83 The Beatles - "Please Please Me" -1963
84 The Velvet Underground - "White Light/White Heat" -1968
85 David Bowie - "Station to Station" -1976
86 Talking Heads - "Remain in Light" -1980
87 Joy Division - "Unknown Pleasures" -1979
88 The Cure - "Disintegration" -1989
89 Depeche Mode - "Violator" -1990
90 New Order - "Power, Corruption & Lies" -1983
91 The Smiths - "The Queen Is Dead" -1986
92 R.E.M. - "Automatic for the People" -1992
93 Nirvana - "MTV Unplugged in New York" -1994
94 Pearl Jam - "Ten" -1991
95 Soundgarden - "Superunknown" -1994
96 Metallica - "Master of Puppets" -1986
97 Black Sabbath - "Paranoid" -1970
98 AC/DC - "Back in Black" -1980
99 Iron Maiden - "The Number of the Beast" -1982
100 Slayer - "Reign in Blood" -1986

Hi everyone!! 👋
So, I have my IUI scheduled for tomorrow (Sunday) morning at 8:40am.
On Thursday, my largest follicle was 16.6mm and my Lining was 7.7 mm. This was my 3rd ultrasound this cycle, so my provider was pretty confident that follicle would hit 18mm by yesterday in time for me to do the trigger shot at 8:40pm (36 hours before my IUI). So I triggered at 8:40pm like I was told.
I've been doing the ovulation strip tests twice a day since day 3 of my cycle. This morning at around 9am, the line was significantly darker than yesterday, but still lighter than the control line. I just took another one at about 1pm, and the line is much darker than the control. So, that tells me this is my LH surg, right?
It is going to be too late to inseminate tomorrow morning?? I called my clinic, but I think they closed at noon so I just left a message. I'm so nervous 😭

Hi everyone, I didn't know where else to post this so hopefully someone in here has had a similar experience. Two years ago I adopted an American Eskimo with no information about his history. He is my first dog and I love him so much, but we very quickly learned that he is incredibly aggressive at the vet. Admittedly, I am pretty naive and didn't understand just how violent dogs could get in scenarios like that, so this was a shock. Our vet prescribed a combination of gabapentin and trazodone that he gets a dose of the night before and then the morning of when he has an appointment. He is literally DEAD when these drugs kick in. We have to carry him to the car. He cannot stand up on his own. Yet, when he is at his appointment - he is still just as violent as he would be without being medicated. (he is always muzzled there) I fully understand why he needs to be medicated, and I trust that my vet does what is necessary to advocate for her and my dog's safety. Here is where I am having trouble with...
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Maybe this is normal and I just don't know and I have nothing to compare it to, but I worry my dog has trouble metabolizing these anesthetics because he will remain in a trance for almost 48 hours afterward. Even after just the first dose, he can't stand up on his own. He won't move for 12+ hours at a time. It has now been 40 hours since he received his first dose of medicine and he has yet to move at all. He is covered in pee because he can't stand up long enough to go to the bathroom. He hasn't eaten or drank even when we bring it to him. I just refuse to believe this is normal. It has been days. My vet even said they had to give him an additional dose of Dexdomitor because he was being too bad. I am just at a loss. I absolutely understand why these are needed but I feel like this is way too long for him to be sedated and not even slightly waking up out of it. This happens every single time we take him to the vet. I just feel horrible, I can't keep putting him through this. He isn't aggressive at all outside of being brought to the vet. We always call her to ask what we should do and she assures us he is fine, but I just don't feel right. He is so out of it for far longer than I am comfortable with. Am I just being dramatic? Are reactive dog vets a thing? Please tell me everything!! Thank you <3

Black Panther
Volume 3: Beyond the Horizon
Issue #36: To the Moon, featuring the Amazing Spider-Man
Written by u/PresidentWerewolf
Edited by u/FrostFireFive & u/DarkLordJurasus
Previous Issue
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“You don’t have much time.” Shuri paced the width of the downed Wakandan transport and back again, stopping for a moment to stare out the jagged hole in its flank. Behind her, the hazy bulb of light on the horizon, perhaps Chicago, perhaps a smaller, closer city, drove the twinkling stars away.
“I have to bring you home. That is my duty, but then you show me this,” she said, gesturing to the Vibranium Atlas displayed on the cracked screen. As they looked at it, it began to flicker.
“We need to download that,” Ross said. “Main power is failing.”
T’Challa was already on it. As he tapped buttons in sequence, the Atlas faded and was replaced by a progress bar that swiftly filled from left to right.
“See? And we didn’t even have to ‘sweat it out’ at ninety-nine percent like in your American action movies.”
As he said that, the lights went dead around them, and the computer blinked off.
“American action movies are what prepared me for all of this,” Ross laughed. “I’ve been on the road with Chuck Norris of Wakanda for the last year.”
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“I am still somewhat weakened, but I am regaining strength quickly,” T’Challa said. “Okoye may not be so lucky, as she is not empowered by the herb.”
Okoye huffed an obscenely annoyed breath. “Losing half my blood brought me down to your level!”
T’Challa laughed. It was a good sound that put the rest of the crew at ease. It put him at ease as well. Even Shuri cracked a half-smile, though it didn’t last long.
“The Council knows that we have tracked you. They may believe that it took some time to catch you, but they won’t believe that you got away for good. They will be expecting us home within twenty-four hours.”
“And yet, we will not be going home, and they will believe that we got away for good,” T’Challa said.
Shuri’s eyebrows went up with interest. “So you have a plan.”
“I had a plan. Once the Atlas was complete, I was going to return to Wakanda and convince the Council to track down any significant stores of Vibranium that existed outside our borders. Now, however…”
“You are preoccupied with the line that extends…” Shuri thought about her words carefully. “Off the map.”
“Hence the new plan,” T’Challa said. “We are going to find it.”
Shuri blinked, taken aback. “Find it?”
T’Challa nodded, his eyes gleaming. “We are going to find it.”
“What…what about,” Shuri was now searching for words. “What about Nakia?”
She hit upon the hardest one first. T’Challa flinched, but replied, “I have done nothing but fail that woman. I can’t imagine she even wants to see me.”
“That’s not true,” Shuri said.
“She shouldn’t want to. It is better to give her space for now.”
“Mm,” Shuri said. She gave a hard glance at Okoye, who kept a calm, defiant face. “All right then. What if it goes to the Moon? The Council won’t give you a shuttle.”
T’Challa shook his head. “It is not on the Moon, or even near it. It reaches far, far past our orbit, our moon, even our solar system. Not even Wakanda has a shuttle that can take me that far.”
“Well then, how are you going to go out there?” Shuri asked.
“Uh, she has a point,” Ross said, while Okoye nodded.
“A friend of mine has such a ship,” T’Challa said simply.
“Who?” Ross asked. “You don’t mean Reed Richards?”
“I do.”
“You think he’s just going to give us his spaceship?”
“Of course not,” T’Challa said. “We are going to steal it.”
Nobody seemed to like that idea very much.
“Are you insane?” Okoye said, berating him. “You know what that man is capable of.”
“I don’t actually know what Richards is capable of,” Ross said, “but that scares me even more.”
Shuri shook her head firmly. “You’ll never get it out of there. Doesn’t he have all of his…technology in orbit anyway?”
“Not all of it,” T’Challa said. “The Badoon ship he used to travel the cosmos…not only has Reed restored it to working order, it is in the hangar at the Baxter Building.”
Ross whistled through his teeth. “Look, T’Challa. I said I’d go through anything with you, right?”
T’Challa nodded. “You have acted with great loyalty and bravery, Agent Ross.”
Ross took a deep breath. “You should know, this isn’t any different. If you say we’re storming the Baxter Building, then that’s what we’re doing.”
Okoye nodded. “We are pledged to even your most suicidal of half-baked schemes.”
Ross almost patted her on the shoulder, and then he thought better of it. He looked at T’Challa. “Just tell us you have a really good plan.”
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The next morning: New York City
Sun streamed across the vast floor of the Baxter Building’s hangar, a hundred and twenty stories above the streets. The wind whipped up here, the air cold with a bite, but Susan Storm didn’t feel it. Protected by a partial bubble of invisible force, she lounged on a patio chair in shorts and a buttoned shirt, her hair flowing freely and brushing the ground as she leaned back. A half-finished mimosa sat on the ground, just within reach. A biotech journal lay open on her stomach.
“Hey, Sis?” Johnny Storm, her younger brother, called out from the exit to the main building. His voice echoed within the hangar, but it was almost lost to the wind before it reached Sue.
“Hm?” she sat up, shielding her eyes from the sun.
Johnny walked halfway out to her. “Sorry to bother you. Uh, just looking for…”
Sue sighed. “What? Do the kids need something?”
“No, HERBIE has the kids.”
“Well then what is it?”
“Kinda lost a…”
“What, Johnny?”
Johnny laughed weakly and scratched his head. “A brunette.”
Sue sat up. “Another one?”
“Well, they get up in the morning, and they want to leave,” Johnny said defensively, “or they don’t, but HERBIE scares them, and Reed didn’t put exit directions up like he’s supposed to. It’s a fire hazard, Sue. That’s what it is.”
Sue put her magazine down on the ground and stood up. “Okay, where did you last see her?”
Johnny started to turn red.
“Are you twelve? You know, this wouldn’t happen if you would just walk them out.”
“Well! Well…” Johnny’s mouth worked as he searched for words. “I just…um…wait. What’s that?”
Sue turned around, sighing again in annoyance, but she stopped when she saw it, too. There was an extra shadow on the hangar floor, shaped like another aircraft…There was something hovering above the hangar!
“Johnny, hit the alarm.” As she said it, several figures dropped from above on the hangar floor. They landed easily, four of them, silently, their dark profiles making them seem like mere shadows themselves.
One of them stepped forward, halfway out of the light so that his features could be seen.
“T’Challa?” Johnny said.
T’Challa pointed. “Steal it! Steal the ship! Steal it before they catch us!” The rest of his group ran for one of the vehicles in the hangar.
“What the actual hell!” Johnny yelled. He immediately burst into flame, and blasted off after them. The sudden burst of hot air blew hard against Sue, making her hair fly up and causing her to stumble back.
“Gah! Johnny,” she coughed. When she looked up, T’Challa’s team had already flown out over the city, and Johnny had gone after them. But it didn’t make sense. “Why would T’Challa steal the Fantasticar?”
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The Fantasticar, though seemingly not much more than a platform with seats on it, was as agile as any aircraft. In many ways, it was superior. Inertial dampeners made sharp corners easy and smoothed the bumps out during hard acceleration. As the Fantasticar looped and slid between the skyscrapers of New York, evading the Human Torch, it acted more like a dragonfly than the clunky box it appeared to be.
Shuri looked back at the furious orange flame dogging them. “I am going to give you credit and assume this was part of your plan.”
The Human Torch flung a huge fireball at them, but T’Challa swerved to dodge it easily. It went straight up into the air and exploded in a ball of smoke and light.
Okoye looked like she was having less fun than anyone. Indeed, anyone who really knew her could tell that the rough ride, combined with her recent injuries, was making her sick as a dog. T’Challa shot her a concerned look, but she waved him away.
“I’m sure space travel will be much easier,” she said, wheezing a laugh.
“Speaking of,” Shuri said. “How do you make this thing go into space? It does not look like a spaceship.”
T’Challa opened his mouth to speak, but just then there was a bump that shook the entire Fantasticar. They all looked around to find the source. No one had joined them. Johnny was still cursing them out from behind.
There was suddenly drag in the controls. They were losing speed. T’Challa banked and the ship was sluggish. “Shuri, take the controls,” T’Challa said, as he magnetized his boots and gloves.
Before she even grabbed the stick, T’Challa had already secured his helmet, swung over the side, and latched on to the bottom of the Fantasticar. He hung there with both feet and one hand, the wind and inverted view threatening vertigo, but he shook it off. There were giant spiderwebs all over the bottom of the Fantasticar. He wasn’t alone down there.
“Uh, how are you doing that?” asked Spider-Man. He was standing on the bottom of the vehicle as well, but on the balls of his feet, almost casually, as if they were meeting on the sidewalk. Well, he had tempted fate, and fate had taken the bait. Planning a heist over the New York skyline in the middle of the morning had attracted exactly who he feared it would.
T’Challa growled and freed his other hand.
Spider-Man crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly. “Listen pal, if we can just be honest for a second. I know a heist when I see one.” The Fantasticar swerved hard, and a jet of flame blew through the air beneath them. T’Challa could feel the heat through his suit.
Spider-Man didn’t seem bothered at all. “Hoo boy,” he said, clapping his hands together. “How long before one of those ends up taking out some innocent falafel stand? You know, I know the Human Torch. Well, I mean, I don’t actually know him, but I see him on TV all the time, you know–actually, half the girls in the city know him better than I do. Okay, that kind of sounds like I’m slut-shaming. Him! Not the girls.” Spider-Man put out a hand defensively, explaining himself. “I’m slut-shaming Johnny. I mean, I’m just saying that I thought this was a paparazzi thing, and then I realized that Johnny was the one chasing you, and I thought, geez I hope the girl he’s with is okay. Is she up top? Is she the the muscly-looking…” he did a little body-building pose, “that one?”
“What are you doing down here?” There was a sudden burst of light and heat as the Human Torch joined them. The Fantasticar started to swerve again as Shuri tried to tell where he was.
Spider-Man pointed at Johnny. “Hey! You!” He cleared his throat. “You’re the fantastic guy with…the Torch!”
“The Human TorchI Are you with this guy?”
Spider-Man shook his head. “No way! I think he stole this…uh…flying car.”
“Yeah, he stole the Fantasticar!” Johnny replied.
“Fantasticar! That’s such a cool name.”
“Nah, it’s lame. But he can’t steal it.” The two of them shared a glance.
“Superhero team up?” Spider-Man said.
Johnny nodded with a huge grin. “Superhero team up! Let’s get him–hey, where’d he go?”
As both of the young heroes looked around wildly, T’Challa cut off the rest of the webbing and returned to the top of the Fantasticar. He grabbed the controls from Shuri.
“Hang on!” he yelled, and he yanked the stick. The Fantasticar hit a hard bank that turned into a tight spiral. It was a move that would have been deadly for any conventional aircraft, but Reed Richards’s design was a generation ahead of anything conventional. He spied the Torch spinning away behind them as they dove for the ground, and at the last second, he pulled them back up, shooting for the sky. Four seconds later, they cleared the tops of the skyscrapers and blasted into the open air. T’Challa breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way the Spider was still clinging to the bottom.
“This thing is incredible,” Spider-Man said from behind him. “Well…fantastic? I guess that’s the pun. What kind of EM field is keeping you guys in your seats?”
T’Challa turned without warning and struck with blinding speed, swiping with hard strength for a gouge across Spider-Man’s chest. The hero moved an instant before T’Challa struck, and the swipe missed by a hair’s width.
Spider-Man responded with a quick jab of his own, and T’Challa was almost off balance enough to take it on the chin. He just managed to dodge to the side, and he pivoted away, taking a defensive stance.
Spider-Man took a quick look at his fist. “That usually works. You’re not just some thug, are you?” Shuri and Okoye both stood at that. “Hey! Hey, just kidding,” he said, waving his hands in front of him. “I know you’re King T’Challa.” He leaned in a little. “By the way, do you have diplomatic immunity?”
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Back in the hangar, Agent Ross watched as Susan Storm stood at the end of the launch platform and looked out over the city. He waited until she finally went back into the main building, and then he emerged from his hiding place and located the Badoon space cruiser. He moved quickly, running to one side to find the controls to unlock the moorings for the ship, disconnect the power, hydraulic, and fuel lines, and figure out how to taxi it to the launch platform.
Most of that was done by small helper bots, and Ross was able to move quickly through all of the computer systems because of T’Challa’s information. A year ago, the Black Panther had performed something of a stress test on Reed Richards’s security. He had broken through and given Reed instructions on how to improve, but not before downloading the bulk of the orbital lab’s files and installing his own backdoor into the system.
T’Challa had shrugged when telling them about it, like that kind of thing was no big deal. “If he really listened to what I told him, he would have found it.”
“Hard to lecture him about it now,” Ross muttered to himself. He tapped at his datapad, and was still a little shocked when it managed to connect with the cruiser’s system. Another tap, and the hatch opened.
“This guy thinks of everything,” Ross said, and he moved to climb into the cruiser.
“Hello, Agent Ross,” said a female voice, directly into his ear.
“Jesus!” Ross yelped as he jumped. He knew exactly who it was. It was her, the Invisible Woman. She was right next to him.
“Language, please. I grew up going to Sunday school, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.” That sounded bad. Might as well have called her mommy. Ross waited for the bump on the head, to wake up in a jail cell.
Sorry, T’Challa, he thought.
“Normally, I would turn an intruder over to the police. If Ben or Johnny didn’t get to them first, that is,” she said with a soft chuckle. She was speaking right into his ear, her breath giving him chills down his neck.
“Okay,” Ross said. “That sounds fair.” He let his free hand drift down near the data pad. Two taps would activate the floodlights. It might give him enough time to take off, or distract her. He could knock her out if he caught her off guard–
HIs entire body froze. He was suddenly wrapped in a forcefield the exact shape of his body.
“Let’s not get jumpy,” Sue said. “Normally, I would hand you over to the police, but you are right, Agent Ross. T’Challa really does think of everything. Take the ship and go.”
The force field vanished. “Really?” Ross said.
Sue kissed Ross on the cheek, just a peck. The chill intensified down his spine. “Just fill up the tank before you bring it back,” she said, and then she was gone.
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The intelligence was true. T’Challa had scarcely believed it at first, but this Spider-Man really did have an extra sense. He dodged most of T’Challa’s blows easily, moving only after an attack was committed but with plenty of time to spare. What blows did land felt like he had punched a statue. He was superhumanly fast, and while T’Challa had managed to avoid his blows in return, his strength was clearly far, far beyond that of a normal human. Or a Black Panther, for that matter.
The only advantage T’Challa had was that he was fighting a novice. Spider-Man was clearly a young man, and his fighting experience was shallow. At the same age, T’Challa had nearly conquered the Feast of the Heart. This would essentially be a stalemate until one of them landed a solid blow.
The Human Torch still followed them. Shuri did her best with a small shield to deflect the flame he shot at them while Okoye tried to outfly him, but neither of them were going to succeed forever. The Torch just never ran out of flame, or clever insults, to hurl at them. T’Challa almost chuckled when he called them a “Saturday-Night-Live-mid-February-musical-guest-looking-bunch-of-scrubs.” Very creative for several minutes into a tirade like that.
On the top of the Fantasticar, the inertial dampeners kept them all from flying off, so T’Challa was able to fight with his full agility. He pressed as hard as he could, coming at Spider-Man with jabs and claw-tipped strikes. He did not want to seriously injure the young hero, but he knew he couldn't play defense. Spider-Man, in turn, acted like he was having a laugh.
“It’s a good thing Johnny and I are doing a team up,” he said, and then he called over his shoulder. “Can I call you Johnny?”
“No!”
Spider-Man shrugged. “I mean, without Johnny it would be three on one. Three on two is a lot better. You’re a great fighter. I’ve never fought anyone like you, really. Even though the ol’ Spidey sense is keeping me safe–” he spun to avoid a nasty kick from T’Challa and hopped back, “I have to watch out for you.”
A real fighter would have grabbed that kick and punished him for missing. T’Challa snarled and pushed forward, using a complicated series of blows designed to confuse, well, a person without a Spidey sense, but it worked well enough.
“Hey!” Spider-Man laughed, “can’t even get my webs off. If I get flung off and have to swing back up here, so help me.”
“Does he ever shut up?” Okoye asked over her shoulder.
“Hey! I’m starting to think that you’re not actually Johnny’s girlfriend.”
Okoye rounded to charge at him. “I’m no–”
Webbing hit her in the mouth and stuck her hand to the control panel. “There we go! I got a shot off after all.”
Okoye’s eyes were murderous as she fought against the webbing. Well, it was probably for the best that she was tied up, now.
Manhattan wasn’t exactly an enormous landmass, and the Fantsticar was capable of some impressive speed. Neither Spider-Man nor the Torch seemed to have noticed that they had essentially circled the city three times since the chase began. T’Challa had been waiting, trying to hold on until Agent Ross arrived.
He saw the Badoon ship in the distance, so sleek and oddly angular, as it descended towards them. Fifteen, twenty seconds, and they would be close enough.
Spider-Man noticed the shadow first, and then the Torch. They both backed off their attacks and looked up at the approaching ship.
“Hey wait, you stole that too?” Johnny exclaimed.
“What did they steal?”
“A spaceship! They stole our spaceship!” Spider-Man turned to T’Challa. “I thought you just stole their car.”
“I’m giving back the car,” T’Challa replied. “Sorry for this.”
“Sorry for wh–” Spider-Man began, before T’Challa hit him with the Umsiki wexesha.
T’Challa had been holding it back, knowing that if it worked, it would probably work only once. The two-step attack, the second hidden within a superhuman reaction time of the first, landed. Spider-Man stepped back from the fist, but the darting elbow caught him hard in the shoulder, knocking him aside. To T’Challa, it felt like he smashed his elbow into a brick wall.
He moved with Spider-Man’s momentum, pushing past him, and he grabbed his wrist. He aimed the web shooter and pressed the exact spot where he had seen the teen press to activate it a moment before. A stream of webbing shot out and wrapped out the Human Torch’s middle. His flame went out suddenly, and he started to fall.
“Hey!” Spider-Man exclaimed, and he yanked his hand back, lashing out with the other. T’Challa caught it on his own shoulder, and he was knocked back across the platform of the Fantasticar. Spider-Man advanced quickly, moving to end it, but then he realized what had happened. He glanced over the side of the ship.
“A king playing dirty,” he said. “Well now I’ve seen it all,” and he leaped over the side to save Johnny.
T’Challa struggled to his feet, and he cut Okoye free. Ross was close enough now. Shuri joined him, and T’Challa saw how sweaty she was from the heat of the flames. Soot smudged her skin and clothes.
He brought the Fantasticar down to a low speed and then waited for Okoye and Shuri to hop over onto the cruiser. They were still so high over the city, and both of them were exhausted, but neither showed a hint of fear or hesitation. T’Challa set the controls for the Fantasticar to return home, and then he boarded the spaceship as well. Ross took them up as soon as the hatch was closed. The city, the island, and the continent all receded, until they were well above the clouds, high enough that they could see the neon-blue curve of the Earth.
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​
“Okay, so as far as team ups go, that wasn’t the best,” Spider-Man said. He lowered Johnny gently to the ground and started to tear the webbing off of him.
“Stand back,” Johnny said. With a burst of flame, he incinerated all of the webbing covering his body. “And no, it didn’t go well. Next time, let me fight the Black Panther and you can fight the girls.”
“I mean…” Spidey said, shrugging, and then his shoulders drooped. “I can’t believe he actually got me. What was that he hit me with?”
“Dunno,” Johnny said, brushing off web-ash from his clothes. “That guy has like a million tricks. He almost beat up my Skrull girlfrie–I mean, my friend, who is a Skrull, and who is a girl. Sometimes.”
“What’s a Skrull?”
From far down the street, police sirens began to blare. The two young men perked up.
“Sounds like a bank robbery,” Johnny said.
Spider-Man extended a fist. “Uh…team up, take two?”
Johnny bumped the fist quickly. “Race you there. Flame on!”
​
_______________________________________________
​
They landed the cruiser near Shuri’s transport. All of the Wakandan soldiers came out to admire the alien ship. The hatch opened, and Shuri stood looking down on them.
“It is hard…to be the Black Panther,” she said to T’Challa. “It is harder being your sister.”
T’Challa squeezed her arm, and then he pulled her in for a hug. “I know. I am a difficult sibling.”
“And son,” she said into his shoulder.
“And king,” he chuckled. He stepped back and handed her a data pad. “The Atlas is loaded onto this. You know something has to be done here on Earth.”
Shuri shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin. Start small, I guess.”
“You will manage,” T’Challa said. “The three of us will manage as well.”
“I don’t understand,” Shuri said. “I get that this is some kind of adventure, but there has to be more to it. No mere impulse would send you to the stars. You don’t know what’s out there.”
T’Challa hesitated. “There…is more. I won’t say now. I will say that there is a mystery surrounding Vibranium, one that I believe we should have tried to solve generations ago. A monster like Klaw, the attention of Bast, the spirits of the seven Kings…it is more than just a meteor, more than just Wakanda’s luck.”
“I…I trust you, T’Challa, but there is still a Wakanda to protect, a Wakanda to rule.”
“You don’t need me for that,” he said.
“Then, I guess there is nothing more to say,” Shuri said.
T’Challa smiled down at his sister. “There is a lifetime of things left to say. Gather your adventures, and I will gather mine, and we will trade over the fire when I return.”
​
_________________________________________
​
The bridge of the Badoon ship was meant for a crew of about ten, but Reed Richards had rigged it so that three or four could easily handle all of its functions. Ross sat in the captain’s chair as he guided the ship up into orbit. T’Challa sat at a control panel and monitored the engines, atmosphere, and various energy levels. Okoye was monitoring communications.
“Susan Storm showed up,” Ross blurted out. The blue sky in the viewscreen faded to black.
“Really.”
“She did, and instead of stopping me, she just let me take the ship. I thought I was a goner.”
T’Challa laughed. “And you want to know why you are not a goner.”
“I do!”
“It is a simple matter,” T’Challa said. “I am a rogue head of state…or a head of a rogue state, depending who you ask. If I asked for their spaceship, the Fantastic Four might just give it to me, because they are my friends, but the U. S. Government would…”
“Pitch a fit?” Okoye said. “That is how the Americans say it?”
Ross nodded and pointed at her.
“Yes, pitch…a fit. Something like that. So, I have to be seen stealing it.”
“You arranged that ahead of time? How?”
T’Challa shook his head. “I arranged nothing ahead of time.”
“Wait, you didn’t know if Sue was going to flatten me when I tried to take the ship?”
“No, you did not know if she was going to flatten you,” Okoye said.
“I knew she would let you go,” T’Challa added.
“But how?”
“I already told you how. I told you the first time I spoke of this plan. They are my friends.”
“Huh,” Ross said simply. He started setting nav coordinates.
“Being my friend is a very serious matter,” T’Challa said, with a play of a grin on his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Okoye looked back and forth between the two of them. “It is lunch time.”
Ross punched in a destination. “Lunch on the moon?”
T’Challa nodded. Inside, he was excited, bursting with anticipation, craving the adventure to come. Outside, he was as calm as he had been since…had there ever been a time he felt like this?
“Lunch on the moon.”
​
​
End of Volume 3: Beyond the Horizon

Writing this on behalf of my GF who doesn't have a reddit account.
Hello everyone,
I need some info ASAP. My chinchilla (Romeo) is 7 years old. He was doing just fine this morning until evening, but during the night when I came home he was laying flat on his side. He was completely unresponsive (eyes closed) and his upper lips were twitching, as well as his hands a little bit. He also had liquid poop that dried all over his butt fur as well as his front and back legs. When I found him he was freezing cold so I put him in a warm blanket right away.
Before I left the house he wasn't hot and had eaten adequately (food from a reputable brand). He wasn't lethargic either.
The exotic vet I take Romeo to was out of the country for a trip so I could only speak with him from the phone. He told me that "Romeo is going to die soon" but he didn't share any more info with me. There's no other exotic vet in ~100km distance from where I live. I have already called 2 different vets without specialization in exotic animals but one said they couldn't be of help and the other didn't answer at all as it's the middle of the night where I live.
Romeo is still breathing but very faintly.
Please help..
TIA

I am terrified, I played a joke on my opening bartender after closing last night and I still haven't heard from her. This woman is known to be a harda$$, and maybe 9:30 a.m. jokes were a bad idea. I might wait until our next shift together to see what she says.
The joke: we have roughly three gallons of juice (lemon and lime) for weekends to make our cocktails. The openers job is to juice to par, but we usually have some left over from the previous day so it's never all three gallons every morning. I hid all save two quarts of juice, and left a note saying the barback slipped in the walk-in and spilled all the juice. The exact note said "girl, I am so sorry, barback slipped and spilled most of the juices, if you need help prepping you can call me in, but I hope you don't because this is an April fools day joke" with an arrow pointed to the other side of the paper, telling her that the juices are in a box about 6 feet to the left (easily found but not immediately seen). Her silence terrifies me.
Tell me about your April Fools Day jokes on your guests or customers!

So I was in ICU last week and my doctor just got my blood work yesterday, called me this morning. Apparently it's all out of whack. Liver Enzymes are all over the place. Magnesium and acids are all over the place. I never thought I'd get to that point but I guess I am.
Now I'm just super worried. It makes me feel like I'm dying or something. I'm sure if I quit drinking, and I plan to, it'll be fine. I know I'm not the first person to be in this boat and i got myself here, im just not used to getting bad news from doctors.
I'd kill for a few stories of people telling me it's gonna be ok right now. Just to help me limp through the rest of my day today and tomorrow. That as long as I'm not drinking I can rest assured I will heal in time. I think I'm ready for that stage of my life now.

So as you can tell this is about a 7-11 cashier about that I have one short and one long story about him. He is n ASSHOLE and I'm not really the judgy type unless you're disrespectful. But this guy who we will call tony was something else. He worked the Graveyard shift and whenever it got busy he would start talking shit to the customers inside. I.E. " why the fuck are you shopping, this isn't HEB" or "the fuck why don't you assholes go to Valero." (actual quotes). I would tend to let it go because deep down inside I got a little schadenfreude whenever he got this way. but this leads us to story one.
​
I'm a driver so one day (I think I was on my break) I swing in and tony was there, and he was in a mood. when I walked in there were 3 females who were clearly from the east side (rough part).
he said "why the fuck are all of you people here?" anyway these 3 ladies took offense and went outside. I went grabbed a topo chico and went to the counter to get my schadenfreude on.
however, that stopped real quickly when a large African American man come in with his buddy right behind him and shouted "YO WHY YOU TALKING SHIT TO ME GIRL THE FUCK?" then he shoves his hand into his pocket, then he and tony started trading insults.
let's just say I have a fair amount of tactical training ranging from military to law enforcement. I kicked into survival mode seeing where this was going. I told the dude behind me to back up to the wall about 7ms away and tell him to stay low. I back up a bit to get some concealment, but I made sure to leave my right side exposed. you see I was carrying my Glock 45 (i can carry one in my state,) and placed my hand on the grip, looking squarely at this pissed-off man. He doesn't acknowledge me and to be frank I am no longer listening and just looking at his hand, and I can clearly tell something was in there. I didn't know what else to say so I just stood there watching. eventually after a bit of arguing his buddy tap him on the shoulder and pointed at me. he looks over. Thankfully, he realized that was a fight he wouldn't win and left. his buddy saying loud enough for me to hear, "Man I told him to leave the gun in the car." at this point I could have shit myself cause I thought I was going to have to shoot someone. so I get back in line and tony is acting like he just won WW2 all by himself. "yeah people who talk shit aren't tough they really are nothing more than a bunch of pussies." All I could think was 'are you serious? you started all that shit' At this point I'm no longer amused by his antics, especially considering I just saved his ass getting swissed cheesed by some gang banger. now, this leads us to our next story.
​
So like I said I was done with that douche's behavior. I literally stopped going to that 7-11 cause I knew if he was working the chances of me being in a shoot-out rise dramatically, especially in my state where every tom dick and harry is allowed to carry. but one day I get really sick while I'm working and I need some food and the one shop near me was open at that time of night. I go down there and I am literally praying to god that tony isn't working. Well, I get there and what do you know? It's fucking tony.
so I shuffle in with my facemask on (I got the coof) only to hear tony going hard in the paint. "why are all of you here, it is a Friday go get a fucking life?" and some other shit. it gets to the point where people start walking out, right after they came in. as I was sick and knew I had to get enough stuff to hold me over this go targets me "why are you shopping? this isn't HEB."
that one almost set me off. but it was when an old lady come in and he pipes off again. "GOD WHY DON'T YOU PEOPLE JUST GO TO VALARO"
That was the moment I lost control of my mouth. it doesn't happen often but I will fucking send it. I walk up to the counter and I slam my shit on the counter. "Bro what the fuck is your damn problem, you can't talk to people like that. I hear it EVERY FUCKING time I come in here" I damn near shouted the best I could with my messed up throat but it was enough to get everyone's attention.
but he did something I didn't expect. This sick fuck smiled "GET THE FUCK OUT" he said "this is my favorite part. this is my store I can do what I want"
Now normally since my state is a stand-you-ground state, and I have a chip on my shoulder I usually like playing chicken with bullies. However that it being a stand-your-ground state it is also VERY specific on trespassing but trespassing while armed with firearm charges to a felony and taken very seriously. so playing chicken with this asshole wasn't an option unless I want new wrist accessories courtesy of my local police. so as I walk out I call him a bitch pussy, and question his manhood for shouting at an old lady for no reason. so now I decide to get fucking petty. I'm off for the next 2 weeks anyways, so I need something to do. when I get home I look up how to report him. I had to wait till 8 am to call customer service. now before we get into this, I want to add some things for clarity. early on when I knew tony we were chill. in fact one time he showed me his baton and stun gun he carried. okay back to the story. so I set my alarm for 7:30 in the morning. when I walk up I set my alarm for 8 and go walk the dogs. I walked them pretty close to the 30 min mark. I went to my computer and waited for the last couple of minutes, and confirmed the number I needed to call. after navigating the annoying menu I finally get a human
​
​
7-11 CS: "7-11 customer service how can I help you?"
me: "yes I want to file a report with you about an incident that happened last night. 7-11 CS: "sure tell me what happened sir"
Me: "while to be honest its no just last night but is a pattern of behavior of one of your employees named tony, you see he cusses out the guest all the time he has shown me his stun gun and even clacked it while working, and is just a general un friendly disrespectful person.
7-11CS: " can you give me a couple of examples of things he says?"
ME: "of course" and I proceed to go through a list of shit he said which would frankly just be tiring to write.
after that, I add
ME: "btw if you want video evidence check your cameras"
7-11 CS: "we do not have audio sir"
me: "hear me out you don't need audio, just listen to me and check what I'm saying off of what you see."
711 CS: "I can't look at the video but I can send your comments to the regional manager and he can view the video"
me: "that's fine,
7-11 CS:" okay so what happened?
Me: "at 1030 at night I walked in, and tony was acting like the asshole he always does shouting at everyone. and if you look at the 1030- 1035 time frame you can see multiple people coming in and leaving almost immediately because of his verbal abuse. at around 1035-1040, I slammed my shit on the table flipped out him, and told him off. if you look when I got to slam my shit on the counter I had to walk 15- 20 feet to do that. why would I do that and point at him if he wasn't verbally harassing a customer? why would multiple potential customers leave right after coming in?"
​
7-11 CS "o my lord, none of this is acceptable and I will send everything to the regional manager.
I exchange pleasantries and hang up. later I got an email from the regional manager he said sorry and basically that he would be punished and not fired. I was kind of annoyed and when I stated this, he told me he understood, but he swore he would be punished adequately. I wasn't enthused with that until one day by happen chance I picked up a cashier to talk her to 711 a couple of weeks later. I saw where I was dropping her off and I mentioned tony. "yeah that dude is such a dick, and thinks is hot shit." she said
I responded " you know I reported him a little while ago"
"OMG THAT WAS YOU, HELL YES THANK YOU"
she proceed to explain why she was grateful. Apparently tony was the store's resident douche. he act like an asshole to everyone for no reason and he was king shit since he was one of the few cashiers who could work at night by himself. at least until my phone call. Once that came in his regional manager tore him a new asshole. on topics ranging from carrying weapons to work to customer service. He was then moved to the morning shift with the manager where he could be watched at all times and if he fucked up once he was done. this lady I was driving was happy because she wanted the graveyard shift badly and was happy when it opened up.
​
apparently after that, he became a lot more humble so I guess the punishment worked, so I'm glad he wasn't fired in retrospect. in fact, I drove him a couple of months after it happened. His entire demeanor changed overall, and he didn't recognize me. what makes it even funnier he gave me a 5-dollar tip. All's well that ends well.

We live downtown in an apartment complex, and just our luck… we got the unit beneath a family of 6 with 2 kids who are 3 and 6. Sucks even more bc I have misophonia.
I already emailed the housing manager who said he’d issue a reminder about nighttime quiet hours. That didn’t do anything. They continued making noise past 11pm, so my partner went upstairs twice to ask them to quiet down. They apologized and said they have two kids, hence the noise, and that they’ll be more mindful. It’s made a slight difference, but it’s still bothersome.
An example of what I hear daily and when:

• furniture scraping the floor in the morning
• kids running throughout the day
• wheels scraping the floor middle of the day
• adult feet stomping throughout the day

The weekends and the mornings are the worst. I just want peace and quiet, and bc of my sensitivity to noise, I wake up feeling anxious wondering how much patience I’ll have to exert that day to handle all the noise.
I know apartment communal living comes with its share of noise, but I am so miserable. I know that if this continues, I’ll end up losing my patience and banging on their door to scream at them, which may only get them to retaliate by being even more of a nuisance.
Have any of you dealt with this before? I did a Reddit search and folks in other cities call the police to file a complaint? I just think that’s really aggressive…

There’s a girl (22f) I (23f) met at group therapy and we’ve technically known each other for months but only hung out once before. It was really cute and fun, we walked like 3 hours and just chatted and got food and got tipsy. Since then we insta message, but I will admit I’m very bad with messaging. Not an excuse but an embarrassing reality. I’ll admit this has cost me relationships throughout my whole life. I’ve gone almost a week without messaging back before. So I asked a couple of days ago, do you want to hang out this Saturday, and also next Friday which will be the last Friday of the month for a V&A late night experience. She said yes to both. Then on Friday (yesterday) I messaged to say ahhh omg I meant next week Friday (which u can see in my original message I thought it was next week) and can I bail on today because bad period cramps (I took Thursday off work). Then a few hours later I ask if she’s still down for Saturday and wants to see a film. I say I work until 4pm. She says she’s free from 7pm at 11am. I messaged her back at 2:30pm to say should we go for the 9:30pm screening? Then at 5:30pm I say I’ll be at the venue in an hour. Then I message her at 8:30pm to ask if she’s still down? Then call her a couple times to no answer.
I get that I could’ve been MUCH clearer, but I thought we had both understood we’d be hanging out in the evening? Maybe I was too ambiguous and it pissed her off. I’m confused though because we’d been talking normally till 11am this morning. No response since. A part of me is also just worried because, did something happen to her? It’s 9:05pm and im still waiting for her and just feeling dejected. I even brought back some cute beeswax melts from a fair I went to today for her. Maybe she just hasn’t seen the messages? Maybe she’s asleep or preoccupied? Or her phone died? But it can’t be that because it kept ringing normally. Or she lost her phone or got mugged?
Im very confused

If you want to read the full chapter, please go to AO3!
​
THE SINS OF OUR FATHERS - A DDMA WHAT-IF? STORY
Chapter 5: Recruitment
\November 9th, 2017. Mirai Household, around 6:57 AM.\**
After finishing his preparations for the school day, Itsuki sits down on the couch, talking with Yuka over the phone, while Narumi gets ready to head off for her office job. The redheaded boy is in his school uniform, while his mother’s work attire consists of a white dress with yellow accents, black leggings, and white heels. She’s also got a white coat on.
In terms of the call between Itsuki and Yuka, the two siblings are talking about the situation with Natsuki and her father, with the older sister having been informed about it last night while at her College apartment in Osaka, working on some class assignments.
She was feeling pretty tired when she got the call from her younger brother, so she wasn’t adamant on talking for too long, believing it wasn’t gonna be a serious conversation. However, she was quickly proven wrong as Itsuki decided to just say it straight up. “Natsuki’s being abused by her father, and I need your help to get her out.”
And just like that, it almost felt like any fatigue in Yuka’s body vanished, and was replaced with shock, anger, and concern all at once. She only really talked with the pink girl a few times during Summer Break in August, when she came back to Salvato City to spend time with Narumi and Itsuki, alongside a few friends. It was also when she learned about her.
See, like many sibling relationships, Yuka and Itsuki had a tendency to mess with one another, either through words or actions. In particular, the younger sibling often teased the older one about the boys she was interested in, which really got on her nerves at times. It also didn’t help that many of the boys she dates either end up as just friends after some time, or turn out to be dicks.
So, Yuka was eager to tease Itsuki back with any girl that might become his girlfriend given enough time. One of those being Aiko, which the younger brother didn’t pick up on until he was straight up told by him a few weeks after joining the Literature Club. However, until his Senior Year, the redheaded boy never showed any sort of romantic interest in anyone, female or not.
Natsuki, however, was the first one to start catching his attention. And Itsuki knew the moment he told Yuka, she was gonna pay him back for all that teasing he did to her when it came to her boy crushes. Which he was correct to assume, as she did exactly that. But it died down, and she decided to help her younger brother with confessing to this girl.
However, aside from what she was told, Yuka didn’t have the best grasp of Natsuki’s personality. She knew she was snarky and aggressive, but also caring and gentle deep down, but not much else than that. So, she felt she had to see her for herself at some point. And eventually, when Itsuki invited the pink tsundere to hang out again, Yuka was able to see the girl who stole her brother’s heart.
Honestly? She found Natsuki interesting. But…also a little strange. She definitely had quite the attitude, and was admittedly good-looking. However, she noticed just how small and skinny she was, wondering if she was eating properly. And judging by how fast she ate her food, and how tired she looked at times, Yuka felt that might have been the case. But she wasn’t too sure, since…what did she know? They barely knew each other.
She also seemed very ill-tempered at points, despite meaning well under that tough exterior. Yuka never saw the worst of it, but she wondered if she was being treated right back home, or if there was something wrong going on with her. But again, she barely knew Natsuki, so she couldn’t just jump to conclusions.
Not to mention…one time, Yuka suggested she, Itsuki, and Natsuki all go to the beach and have some fun. But despite stating she used to love going there as a kid, the pink girl refused to go with that idea. Did she develop some kind of condition that kept her from doing this kind of stuff? Was she not confident in her body? Or…?
These signs were definitely concerning to Yuka, but she felt it wasn’t her place to try and call Natsuki out or anything. For all she knew, it wasn’t that big a deal, and if it was, Itsuki would help her take care of it. After all, her little brother is always willing to help people, even if he may mess up or go too far at points.
So, when Yuka moved back to Osaka to continue her pursuit of a career in Criminal Justice, she put these concerned thoughts about Natsuki into the back of her mind, since she had her own concerns at the moment. But every once in a while, she wonders…”What is the deal with Natsuki Gushiken?” However, she never figured it out for the longest time.
And now that she knows the truth? Well…she feels the same as her mother and brother about the situation. She wants to help Natsuki however she can, and beat her father into a bloody pulp. But obviously, they couldn’t do exactly that, so right now, they’re discussing what to do as they talk on the phone.
Yuka: “So, Natsuki’s gonna tell Yuri and Aiko about this?”
Itsuki: “That’s the plan. Though, when she’ll do that, I’m not sure.”
Itsuki: “Obviously, it’d be good to take care of it today, but…Natsuki might need some time to figure it out.”
Yuka: “Makes sense. It takes a lot to tell someone your problems.”
Yuka: “Also, I was planning on heading back home around December 9th or so, but if you need me to, I could come back a little earlier.”
Itsuki: “You sure? What about your work?”
Yuka: “Pssh! I can always take care of it online, and let my teachers know something came up!”
Yuka: “Besides…this takes higher priority.”
Yuka: “I wanted to do Criminal Justice in order to help people like Natsuki. So…this is almost like a way to see if I’ve got what it takes.”
Yuka: “Sure, it won’t be the exact same experience, but…it’s still good to test my skills.”
Itsuki: “Heh. And that’s why your help is needed.”
Itsuki: “That, and more help is always good.”
Yuka: “Definitely.”
Yuka: “While I’m at it, how’s Mom handling this?”
For a moment, Itsuki doesn’t speak as he looks over to the kitchen table to see Mom checking her belongings in her black purse, focused. Then, he goes back to talking to Yuka.
Itsuki: “From what I’ve seen so far, she’s handling it well.”
Itsuki: “Though, I can tell she’s a little more tense than usual.”
Yuka: “Like…Goro tense?”
Itsuki: “...Maybe not that much, but getting there.”
Yuka: “And what about you?”
Itsuki: “Eh…I’m feeling uneasy about everything, but…I’m doing what I can to stay calm and do what has to be done.”
Yuka: “...”
Hearing Itsuki’s words causes Yuka to stay silent for a bit, feeling concerned about whether her younger brother can take good care of this situation. After all, when he was younger, he was quite the hothead, and didn’t always think things through, which led to plenty of trouble. Especially with…someone they were familiar with…
And while Itsuki’s much better about his temperament nowadays, his older sister can tell deep down, he’s got his fair share of frustrations and doubts. So, when dealing with an abusive father, who’s been hurting his crush for years on end, it could go horribly wrong if he’s not being watched. And the last thing Yuka wants to see is her family getting hurt.
However, she knows nothing is gonna happen for now, and when things start getting serious, she’ll be there to help out. Yuka will always be there for the people she loves, even if they make plenty of mistakes along the way. So, with an audible sigh, she decides not to question her brother any further.
Yuka: “...Alright. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
Itsuki: “I won’t.”
Yuka: “Good.”
Yuka: “Now, I should get going. Classes are gonna start soon.”
Itsuki: “Me too. Talk to you later.”
Yuka: “Bye.”
After that exchange, the call ends, and Itsuki turns his phone off, before putting it into his jean pocket. As he gets up from the couch, picking up his school bag on the coffee table, Narumi approaches him, fully prepared to head out.
Narumi: “So? Anything of note?”
Itsuki: “Just that she’s willing to come here earlier if we need her to. And she didn’t want me to do anything stupid.”
Narumi: “Sounds about right. You doing stupid stuff would screw us all over.”
Itsuki: “When is doing stupid stuff EVER helpful?”
Narumi: “Heh. Good point.”
The two smile a bit, before hearing someone knock on the front door. So, Itsuki takes a few steps towards it, and comes to find his best friend, Aiko Omoshiroi, standing on the doormat. He has an upbeat smile, and waves a hand up to greet Itsuki and Narumi.
Aiko: “Hey, Itsu! Hey, Narumi!”
Itsuki: “Morning, Aiks.”
Narumi: “Good to see you, Aiko.”
Aiko: “You too! So, are we gonna get going?”
Itsuki: “Sure. Let’s go.”
Narumi: “Want a ride?”
Aiko: “Thanks, but I’ll pass! I wanna enjoy the sights on the way there!”
Narumi: “Alright. Just be safe, you two.”
Itsuki: “Please! There’s not much that happens in our neighborhood!”
Narumi: “Still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful, Itsuki.”
Itsuki just nods, as he and Aiko say their farewells to Narumi for the morning, and go their usual path to Salvato High School. At this point, the two could probably do it in their sleep. They knew where to go for the quicker routes, and the different landmarks throughout. However, they just took their time, since it wasn’t gonna take too long to get to school.
First, there was obviously Itsuki and Aiko’s neighborhood. Their homes weren’t too far away from one another, which makes it easy for them to come by whenever they want or need to. And there were plenty of houses with different shapes and colors.
For example, Itsuki’s house had a rectangular-shape, being a one-story house, and had a pale yellow color. Aiko’s house, on the other hand, had a tilted roof, since the bottom floor of the house went a little under the ground, while also having a baby blue color. There was also variety in terms of the people, and other things to be found in the neighborhood.
Some liked to walk their dogs around. Itsuki and Aiko loved to pet them as they came by, becoming acquainted with their owners and having a small chat with them before moving on. There was also this elderly couple who liked to tend to their front lawn in the morning, and they treated many of their neighbors with an almost sickening sweetness. Itsuki and Aiko were no exception, and they were even offered treats sometimes when they passed by.
However, there were certainly some questionable people as well. Not necessarily bad, but not necessarily good either. Like a 30 year old man who always got really pissy when people tried to mess with anything on his property. Most notably, his fancy car. There was one time where Aiko tried doing exactly that, and needless to say, his mother promptly chewed her out for it.
Plus, there was this 50 year old woman with big, messy hair who had 5 kids of various ages. She seemed to have a few issues, and when interacting with others, she had the tendency to lash out a bit. In particular, when Itsuki and Yuka were trying out some new bikes, the former accidentally crashed into her garbage can, leading to her getting very angry with him. And later on, Narumi had to talk with her, which ended with her coming back home in a bad mood.
But regardless, there was plenty of great stuff to see in this neighborhood outside of the people and homes. Many trees and bushes were visible throughout the place, as their leaves were blown off by the wind and littering the road in a sea of brown, orange, yellow, and red. Along with it, a couple of bugs were going around as well, like flies and cockroaches, which made Itsuki uncomfortable.
Anyways, after Itsuki and Aiko’s neighborhood, there’s simply the downtown district of Salvato City, which then leads to the school building. That’s when the two had to stick close together in order to not run into too many people, since the sidewalks had a bunch of them going around, making their daily commute, alongside the many cars driving on the road.
And throughout, there were different shops, like a children’s candy store, a place where they sold bikes and other things for kids to ride on, and a nice antiques shop run by a kind old man. If they had the time before or after school, or if it was a day off, Itsuki and Aiko would check out these shops for a bit, and maybe even buy something.
Then, when they’ve gone past all that, they reach the back of the Salvato High School building, where they proceed to go around it to enter the front gates. It may not seem too special, but to Itsuki and Aiko, it felt relaxed and intimate, in a weird way. And with their Senior Year coming to a close, they sometimes get a little upset about the fact that they won’t be able to do this anymore.
Regardless, as the two go ahead with their usual walk, Aiko is eager as always to start up a conversation with Itsuki.
Aiko: “So, I was thinking…I don’t really have anything exciting going on this weekend.”
Aiko: “Maybe I could swing by your house, and we can play some games?”
Itsuki: “Heh. That would definitely be nice. I could use some time to relax and have fun.”
Aiko: “Really now? Dealing with something big at the moment?”
Itsuki: “Pretty much. Can’t say, sadly.”
Aiko: “Oh, come on! You know I can keep a secret!”
Aiko: “Is it something to do with Natsuki? You two looked like you saw a ghost back during Poem Sharing on Tuesday.”
Itsuki: “It is…but again, I can’t tell you anything here.”
Aiko: “It’s cool. As long as you two aren’t, like…I dunno…”
Aiko: “...Doing drugs?”
Itsuki: “Pfft! I think if that was the case, it’d be WAY more obvious!”
Aiko: “Good point. Maybe instead…”
Seeing a mischievous smile on Aiko’s face, Itsuki puts on an unamused look, knowing what he’s gonna joke about.
Aiko: “...You two spent a lovely evening together?” ; )
Itsuki: “Shut up. That’s not it, and I wouldn’t want you to know that.”
Aiko: “Come on! You know you want to kiss her!”
Itsuki: “Yes, but the point is that you need to get your mind out of the gutter!”
Aiko: “My mind’s almost always in the gutter, though!”
Itsuki: “Well, maybe get it out of there for once!”
Itsuki: “Besides…this is something much more serious…”
Noticing Itsuki’s more irritated tone, Aiko decides to drop it and talk more seriously.
Aiko: “...Sorry…it’s just…”
Aiko: “...Ever since the Culture Festival, you seem more tense and mellow than you usually are.”
Aiko: “I’m guessing it has to do with whatever trouble is going on with Natsuki’s family?”
Itsuki: “Definitely. It’s a mess.”
Itsuki: “I’ve been doing the best I can to have her back and all, but…”
Itsuki: “...A part of me can’t help but worry if I can really do this.”
Itsuki: “Or…if I’ll make a big mistake at some point…”
Aiko: “...”
Aiko: “...You may not be perfect, Itsuki…but you ARE a great friend…”
Aiko: “And honestly…I’ve been really worried about what Natsuki’s going through…”
Aiko: “Hell, I’d be even MORE worried if I knew she was just handling it all on her own.”
Aiko: “But…knowing you’re there to help her…eases me a little.”
Aiko: “Because…she’s being helped by someone who cares a lot about her.”
Aiko: “And I know no matter what, you’ll help her to the very end. Even if you screw up along the way.”
Aiko: “So, be more confident in yourself! Whatever crap’s going on isn’t gonna stop you two!”
Itsuki: “...”
Itsuki: “...Heh…you’re right…thanks…”
Aiko: “Please! I’m just giving a pal the support they need! It’s what I do!”
Aiko: “Plus…if Natsuki’s okay with it, I’d be more than happy to help out as well.”
Itsuki: “I DID suggest she talk to a few people about it. One of those people being you.”
Aiko: “Ah! That’s nice to hear! But if she’s not gonna tell me right now, I’m fine with it!”
Aiko: “Whatever’s going on with her, it’s probably not something you can easily talk about…”
Itsuki: “You’d be correct in that assumption. But enough about Natsuki.”
Itsuki: “How about we discuss Sonic Forces? I just got that game recently.”
Aiko: “Oh yeah…I forgot about that. Is it any good?”
Itsuki: “Meh. The gameplay feels VERY automated and boring.”
Itsuki: “Plus, the story is utter shit.”
Itsuki: “The custom character is cool, though. And the soundtrack is great, as always.”
Aiko: “Ah…so, another mediocre Sonic game?”
Itsuki: “PAINFULLY mediocre.”
Itsuki: “At least I still have Sonic Mania to go back to.”
Aiko: “Once again, the fans know best.”
Itsuki chuckles a bit at Aiko’s remark, as they continue to walk to Salvato High School. And as they do so, the redhead starts feeling a little better, thanks to his best friend’s support and fun attitude. He was very much the Sayori to Itsuki’s Marise, in many ways. Kind, supportive, energetic, a glutton, and a great friend to have.
Though, a part of the redhead wonders if Aiko will be able to keep up that positive attitude once he gets involved with Natsuki’s situation. Because while the brown-haired boy tends to be very energetic and lively most of the time, he secretly struggles with depression, which often makes him doubt himself and occasionally wonders if he matters in anyone’s lives.
In fact…there was one time where he considered doing something horrible…something that would break everyone’s hearts. But luckily, he was convinced not to, and since then, Aiko’s been trying to get better. And with him and his Mom, Kazuko, trying to fix their strained relationship now, he seems to be doing fantastic. Not perfect, but still much better than before.
But…having to deal with the abuser of one of her friends…would he be able to handle it? Sure, he’s definitely dealt with his fair share of family issues, and depressing thoughts. However, this is a much different beast, and if Aiko couldn’t keep up…if he breaks…it’ll be Itsuki’s fault. Or at least, he’d be partially responsible for whatever happens.
Sure. Aiko doesn’t HAVE to help them. But knowing him, he would. And he’d do whatever he could to make sure Natsuki and anyone else in the know is safe. Even if it hurts him, physically and mentally. And Itsuki would be somewhat responsible for it. Because he decided to bring him into this, and risk the possibility.
And if he DID break? Or god forbid die? Kazuko wouldn’t be afraid to hunt down everyone responsible and let them know the pain she would feel from losing her oldest son. And Itsuki would have to live with that guilt to the day he dies. His best friend, and brother figure…dead. All because he wasn’t capable enough to handle the problem on his own.
However…those aren’t the kinds of thoughts Itsuki should pay attention to. He knew it was gonna be risky, bringing in his friends to help deal with Natsuki’s father. And he knew it might cause a lot of problems for them. But…we all have to take chances for success…even if they don’t appear to be viable…
Read the rest of the chapter on AO3!
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Next: A Plan Of Action
TSOOF Archives
Previous: Counter

We made plans yesterday to go out - they stayed up all night drinking, woke up shitfaced, and kept drinking.
We had a talk while we were out, and I explained how bad it made me felt, and were supposed to go out today.
We make plans this morning, tells me she's gonna stay sober, she takes a call from her mom & I jump in the shower.
I jump in the shower for 10 minutes - 10 FUCKING minutes, and by the time I get out, she's drunk again.

so why back in 2006 my mother passed away from a brain aneurysm. I took it very hard due to my mom being my entire (my dad was anasshole when I became a teenager). Fast forward to that May dad move's another lady into our house (mom and dad were married almost 25 years) and she doesn't like me and vice versa I don't like her. She wants me to call her mom, she doesn't like my friends and everything I do she hates. That August I spent my 17th birthday in a mental health place due to cutting (it was the first time dad found out that I have been cutting myself, I started at 13). I spend a week in that place, come home and it's still hell living there. (the only plus was I became sexually involved with her son who was in my eyes sexy). she didn't know that we were sexually involved. Now fast forward again to November. They decided to kick me out of the house because I took some of my dad's perks, n oxy n was selling them at school (I withdrew from school before I got expelled). So das chose this witch over his child that he adopted was all I could think. I ended up going to a detention center (similar to a juvinele shelter) and that's when it starred to happen. I would wake up in the middle of the night and I would see my mom sitting on the nightstand. At first, I was very weirded out. liked freaked out. All I could think was how is mom here? Maybe she was still alive even though I watched been take her last breath. after it happened a few days back to back I would look forward to seeing her every night and we would sit there and have conversations til the early morning. has anyone else ever experienced anything like this??

so why back in 2006 my mother passed away from a brain aneurysm. I took it very hard due to my mom being my entire (my dad was anasshole when I became a teenager). Fast forward to that May dad move's another lady into our house (mom and dad were married almost 25 years) and she doesn't like me and vice versa I don't like her. She wants me to call her mom, she doesn't like my friends and everything I do she hates. That August I spent my 17th birthday in a mental health place due to cutting (it was the first time dad found out that I have been cutting myself, I started at 13). I spend a week in that place, come home and it's still hell living there. (the only plus was I became sexually involved with her son who was in my eyes sexy). she didn't know that we were sexually involved. Now fast forward again to November. They decided to kick me out of the house because I took some of my dad's perks, n oxy n was selling them at school (I withdrew from school before I got expelled). So das chose this witch over his child that he adopted was all I could think. I ended up going to a detention center (similar to a juvinele shelter) and that's when it starred to happen. I would wake up in the middle of the night and I would see my mom sitting on the nightstand. At first, I was very weirded out. liked freaked out. All I could think was how is mom here? Maybe she was still alive even though I watched been take her last breath. after it happened a few days back to back I would look forward to seeing her every night and we would sit there and have conversations til the early morning. has anyone else ever experienced anything like this??

(I am back after about 5 months! Sorry, school's been a bit rough. People bullying me and all that. Hopefully, I can try and keep the status quo.)
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Ugh, today's been so goddamn uneventful. Why won't things just get better, man? I didn't take this job just to give coffee and be bored... fuckin' hell. Where are all the cuties when I need 'em? I mean, damn. I thought more people liked coffee in the morning. Have I been misunderstanding social cliques and societal norms this whole time?!
*Gasp\*
Well well well, looks like I finally get my share of the spoils, who is this gorgeous devil over here? Ooh, they're coming this way! I hope they decide to come in here...
*The bell above the door rings as you enter\*
Hey there, sweetness. Welcome to Sanguine Cafe! We serve all kinds of coffee for any adorable, thirsty little customer like yourself! Whaddya want this mornin', what can I do for ya?
Ooh, is that a blush I see? Wow, you're proving to be quite the catch. Making it tempting to snatch ya right up! But, anyways, I'm here to do my job. What kind of coffee would you like?
Just a regular, plain ol' coffee? Well, say no more! I'm your gal! I make coffee better than anyone else here! Be right back in just a few!
*She winks at you and blows a kiss, walking away\*
Well, just a coffee, eh? I took them more to be the extravagant type, but I guess simplicity is bliss. I might just give 'em a quick look one last time... wow... that gorgeous hair, those glistening eyes, and... radiant skin. OohOO! I cannot mess this up. Come on, Jasmine, you cannot mess this up. Let's get their coffee done first.
*She hums merrily to herself as she makes a cup of coffee, paying extra close attention to detail, despite its simplicity\*
OK, done!
Hey, sweetness~ One coffee, coming right your way, made with all the love I could muster!
*She looks around for a moment, before turning to you\*
Say, I've not really seen your face around here, sweetness. Are you new to the area? Ooh, new to the big city, eh? It's a lovely place, I assure you. It gets a bit loud at night. Unless you're the type for a rowdy night, I wouldn't advise goin' out there if I were you.
Soooo, how's the coffee? I gave it all the care I could. A little sweetie like you deserves it. It's nice, right? That's great to hear, sweetness. Might be a lil late to ask this, but you don't mind me calling you that, right?
Ah, I knew you wouldn't. Say, tell me about yourself. I've got a little time to kill. I'm technically not on my shift, but I just had to serve a little cutie like you. I've got time to kill. Yeah, of course! I can make time for you. Here, lemme sit opposite you. Whaddya like to do? Any hobbies?
Ooh. Y'know, I wanted to study that before I came here. Being more urban made me realize I wanted to study literature, as there are loads of famous authors from this city. I dunno, I guess I just wanted to feel more... purposeful? I wanted something to do, so I started writing a book. Yeah, really! It's not done yet, only about halfway done so far, but if you're lucky, I could give you a little sneak peek.
Of course! Yeah, I don't mind. But yeah, after writing my book, I became really obsessed with literature. I looked a lot into... like... Victorian stuff. Charles Dickens and the like. I was completely obsessed with The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit. Ugh, it was so beautiful. Gripped, utterly and entirely, from start to finish. If you're a strong reader, then I'd definitely recommend it-
Oh... damn. I've rambled too much again, haven't I? Sorry, sorry. Oh, where are my manners, even? My name is Jasmine. What's yours?
Heh, sweet name for a sweet person. I hope you didn't mind my ramblings back there. You didn't? Oh, really? Thank you so much! I tend to talk people's ears off with my gushing over literature, so I'm glad I've finally found someone who'll listen to me. God, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're not only focused on just my ramblings...
*She laughs\*
Oh, don't get so flustered, it's endearing, really! I've always come to appreciate shyness in people. Yeah! I think it's something that needs to be helped more. I assume you are burdened with it quite badly from how much you're blushing?
Yeesh... anxiety? I'm sorry to hear that. It sucks, y'know? Back in middle school, I had a similar kind of anxiety. I'm past it now, but I know how that must feel. My deepest condolences. But hey, now that I'm here, and so are you, why don't we try and tackle it together?
*She takes out a pen and a piece of paper\*
Here, have my number. Normally, I wouldn't give it out to strangers, so consider your cute little face lucky. Can I have yours?
*You write your number on another piece of paper she gives you\*
I'll text first, don't worry. We can maybe go and hang out sometime after this, and maybe discuss this further.
Yeah? I knew you wouldn't say no, sweetness. Anxiety can be vicious, I know. But hey, it's not your fault, yeah? I think you should know that not everyone hates you and that you are gonna be cared for and supported. Do you have anyone else helping you with this kinda thing right now? A partner? Friends?
Wow... you don't have a partner? That's a surprise. I would've thought someone like you would've been snatched up the second they put themselves out there- Ah... I see the issue. You can't put yourself out there, can you?
Hmm, fair. It's hard. Need somebody to make the first move for you? Well, c'mere then.
*She gives you a soft kiss before pulling away\*
There, maybe that'll entice you to take things further with that 'special someone'. Hehe! Aww, you're bright red! You're adorable. I should be heading back to my shift now, so... I guess I'll see you soon. As I've said, I'll text first, don't worry!
Dammit, they're so cute! Jasmine, you idiot! You just kissed them! Why would they wanna be with someone so forward?! Shit, oh well. Maybe if I text them then I can maybe get closer to them. Oh, I hope so...
​
______________________________
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(I have anxiety, so I need someone like this fr)

AN: WOOHOO I CAN FINALLY RELEASE THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MY NEXT BOOK!
​
It was raining, a light but persistent drizzle that soaks clothing through and through. Though the humidity and heat of Spring in a swamp permeated everything, the rain somehow made it even more uncomfortable. A thick silence lay over the darkness with the only exception being a very faint sing-song tone that could be heard in the distance, the sounds of a formation run in full swing. But beyond that, the base was still sleeping the grumpy snooze of Marines who weren’t really ready to face the new day yet.
Down a darkened street lay the building. Illuminated only by a single, sickly orange street lamp, it appeared that whatever architect had been responsible for the building’s design had really phoned it in on that day. It was a purely functional concrete rectangle with concrete stairs leading to a concrete landing that gave entrance to tired workers with no appreciation for cinder block motifs. Bright green patches of grass were only just managing to survive thanks to SgtMaj’s lifelong ordinance against pedestrians on his lawn, enforced at the point of a knife-hand.
On the ground, pressed up against the construction in what looked like a boring game of the-floor-is-lava, they sat. Shoulder to shoulder, lined up in a neat row, taking advantage of the mere six inches of protection against the elements provided by a high up ledge, Marines quietly waited for things to kick off and get worse. No one was talking. It was far too early in the morning to exercise one’s vocal chords and anyhow, they would be forced from their sulky silence any minute by the platoon sergeant.
Klobi stared blankly at her green running shorts, moving her gaze to the white running shoes and socks. Well, they used to be white. The platoon sergeant’s enthusiasm for running on low-impact surfaces, i.e. grass had fixed that right up. With a mix of exhaustion and low-grade anxiety about the immediate future, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her green t-shirt. Should she have gotten up a bit earlier and shaved her legs before coming out here? Then again, does anyone really care about prickly stubble after a couple miles? Whatever was going to happen next was entirely out of her hands. The gentle susurration of Marines shifting around in a futile quest for comfort was the only sound. Oh, and the rain.
Softly, from the front of the line, someone muttered, “Yip”
A full second passed. Then another green-clad Marine repeated, “Yiiiip.”
“Yip yip yip…” chattered the next guy, faintly, as if the sound might be giving too much away. But Klobi could hear the wall of silence developing cracks.
“Yipyipyipyipyip” repeated the girl next to her. With no more words exchanged, the whole line suddenly broke out in the monosyllabic repetition.
“YEEEEIP, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip”, multiple voices joined in, all out of rhythm with one another. Then the base section at the very end started with their own contribution.
“UHHH huh, UHHH huh!” Within seconds, a disjointed cacophony was in full swing.
“YEEEEIP, yip, yip, yip, (UHHH huh, UHHH huh), yipyipyip, YEEEEIP…”
This went on for nearly two minutes and then, just like that, they fell silent. An intruder had been detected. A voice from off in the parking lot barked, “COMM PLATOON! FORM UP!”
Uggh. It was time to PT.
A couple of hours later, the gang were sitting in the chow hall picking at their government issued breakfasts. Today’s meal was low grade hash browns, eggs, fried ham slices, and slimy grey goop with chunks in it that the cooks claimed was meat from some named domesticated animal despite appearances. It didn’t look any more appetizing under the painfully bright fluorescent lights. The hall filled with the sounds of competing televisions tuned into the morning news shows and complaining Marines.
"I swear they put saltpeter in the food." Crannick muttered darkly, poking at his scrambled eggs with the cheap tin fork. "Every time we come here for breakfast, my junk don't work for the rest of the day."
"What, like you can't pee?" Tran asked around a mouthful of food. "Because that sounds like you should hit medical." He stabbed a piece of bacon that shattered on impact.
"No! No, I can pee just fine." Crannick grumbled.
"Why is this our breakfast convo, for fuck sake?" Klobi hated how they couldn't even get early mornings right. She smeared jam on toast, preferring that over anything that was cooked in the chow hall kitchens. At least she knew what was in it.
Ignoring her, Crannick pressed on. "I mean I should probably ask doc for some Viagra if I have to keep eating these disgusting eggs."
"So you're saying..." Klobi started to grin.
“Shut up, Klo.”
"I know a guy who can get Viagra for you. Cheap too, so you don't have to tell doc anything." Dawson contributed graciously. “He gets all kinds of stuff.”
"...Crannick is a broke dick?" Klobi looked quite chuffed with her own jokes as usual.
"It's not funny, Klobi!" He turned Dawson. "And is that even legal? Can we buy pills?"
"Long as you are quiet about it. Lots of Marines do." Dawson made a face as he drank some of the weird tasting milk the chow hall dispensed daily. He was the only person Klobi had ever seen actually drink it.
“Oh yeah? Who’s selling it?” Tran asked, entirely unaware of the street rules about naming names. Speaking names could catch the attention of the blue falcons and no one was having any of that if they could help it. Dawson shot him a dirty look and kept eating.
"If you pissed your pants, could we call the resulting puddle Lake Flaccid?"
"I'm leaving, Klobi had no idea how a penis works." As Crannick collected his tray, the others snickered. " Thanks, Dawson." With that, he left to dump his trash.
His departure lulled the conversation briefly. The shop report time was drawing closer no matter how they tried to ignore it. The brief window between PT and work was never enough.
"Who's he trying to perform for anyway? The Green Weenie doesn’t care if his thing works." Tran finished the last of his coffee and stood up. "Time hack?"
Dawson checked his watch, "0745. Let's get going."
They rose together from the benches and made their way out of the chow hall. As they approached the area to dump their trays and make their exit, Klobi saw a small, bleak table that had been set up ceremonially towards the front of the cafeteria. There was one like it in every mess hall in the Marine Corps, no matter where they were. The tablecloth was black. A single white candle sat unlit in the middle of the tiny dining surface and a single chair was sat on the right side. A neatly folded black cloth napkin lay beside a single white plate that was always empty. A bread plate held one single slice of lemon with a salt shaker sitting adjacent to the plate. There was never silverware beside the plates. No point. No one ever sat there and no one ever would. It would be sacrilege.
She took her eyes off the somber scene to toss the last of her uneaten eggs in the industrial waste collectors and stack her tray for washing before following her friends out the door.
As Klobi climbed the steps to the shop, she winced. The run that morning had made her legs sore already and she’d probably be barely able to walk by evening. But she’d be damned if she’d let that show when the others were bounding up the stairs two at a time.
“What are you all in such a hurry for?” she griped.
At the top of the stairs, Tran held the door as Dawson and Klobi went in. Compared to the muggy, suffocating air outside, the air conditioning hit like winter. Despite her muscle aches, Klobi sighed with pleasure. Air conditioning reminded her that it could always be a lot worse. She could’ve gone infantry and missed out on the joys of civilization for the entire enlistment.
Just before entering the shop, they paused at the wall of tiny metal lockers. Taking her phone out, Klobi set it on silent and then dropped it in one of the top lockers, closing the door and taking the key. In accordance with some universal law on abandoned cell phones, someone’s locked up device was playing a ring tone at max volume inside it’s locker. The owner had probably thought the ring tone was clever and individual, but it sounded damn silly on repeat as whomever was trying to call him couldn’t take a hint.
“Sounds like Hileman’s phone.” Dawson tried to get a good look at the locker number.
“How do you know? Besides the shit taste in music, I mean.” Klobi pointed to the offending locker as she was closer.
“What are you talking about? This tune was a banger.”
“Was. Oh well, guess we found our lunch flyer for the day.”
Anyone who didn’t put their device on silent became responsible for the shop’s chow run later. They’d have to take everyone’s order and then suffer the trip to the PX where the fast food joints were. This was also in accordance with universal laws that when a Marine catches another Marine slipping up, there will be some sort of fine levied informally. Especially if the violation was leaving their email open while they went to the head. Ooo-boy, that one was always a hit with the shop.
Stripped of all their devices, the three went to the door and swiped in. The data center might be air conditioned but it was also locked down against unauthorized entry. The Marines who worked in there, like many POG shops, treated their access as a rare privilege. More importantly, there was always internet.
They spread out to their separate desks, positioned all over the watch floor as they each jockeyed for some privacy. There was no other way to pretend to be doing work and if another Marine was sitting right next to you all day it ruined the illusion. Tran disappeared to the vault, his happy place in an otherwise confusing world.
“What’s the deal with Tran?” Dawson asked. “He’s cool and all but I think he might be gay.”
“Impossible” snapped Crannick. “He has boot bands on.”
Klobi snorted.
Dawson’s expression changed with mounting confusion.
“What do boot bands have to do with anything?”
Like any role playing game, and the Marine Corps during peace time bears a great resemblance to a bad one, Marines ascribed certain intangible qualities to otherwise boring (but required) uniform items. For example, Marines who had to wear red patches on their cammies[1] were considered to have AIDS and boot bands eliminated any possibility that your sex life leaned towards homosexuality[2]. The famous Marine dress blues gave the wearer +10 to sex appeal but that was nerfed by -20 when they inevitably started talking.
“He’s a jay-dub, Dawson. Poor kid probably doesn’t even know there’s more than one gender.” Klobi stretched as she talked, making her voice crack a bit when she got to the best part of her back muscles. “Oooooh gods, that’s good.”
Tran was in fact a Jehovah’s Witness. Or at least his family was. The Marine Corps was coming as quite a shock for him.
“Why do you care anyway? You trying to hit that?” Crannick leered at Dawson. “Forget your own bootbands for moment there?”
Dawson just shook his head and laughed. “He’s just…weird. I don’t know anyone back home that’s that innocent out of diapers. But he’s able to absolutely smoke everyone at PT, so yeah, I guess, who cares?”
Back in the barracks that evening, Klobi lay sprawled across her rack, thumbing through a paperback book. Her laptop was open streaming some YouTube channel for background noise, something she rarely did without headphones. This time, however, there was no roommate to bother. She didn’t have the room to herself exactly, although there were so few women in the battalion that single occupancy was not uncommon. It was just that her roommate, Sullivan, was dating another lance corporal, LCpl Hileman, down the hall. Hileman’s roommate had recently rotated out to another duty station and the barracks manager had yet to assign him a new one. That gave Hileman the rare privilege of having his own room, albeit temporarily. From what Klobi had heard, Hileman was using every available means of persuasion short of blunt force trauma and bomb threats to keep this state of affairs going.
The main benefit to Klobi was that, since Hileman’s room was private for now, Sullivan rarely slept in Klobi’s room.
Sully was a nice enough girl, although a bit naive in Klobi’s opinion. She had the look of a strawberry. Bright red hair, chubby oval face, freckles, pale skin that was prone to blushing at even mildly saucy comments, and bright green eyes, Sullivan looked way too innocent to be a Marine. Klobi knew better. The girl swore profusely, albeit in her squeaky high-pitched voice. It was like listening to a drunken chipmunk who’d caught his missus chipmunk with extra nuts.
Klobi shifted in her bed and tried to get back into her book. It was rough, considering she had just read the same paragraph four times but had not gotten any closer to understanding it. She flipped back a couple of pages and started over.
“In the universe, all things trend towards higher and higher states of entropy. Low entropy can be described as a closed system with a very neat order to things and little change, but if you break the system, entropy begins to increase almost immediately…”
She yawned. It was unfair that she so desperately wanted to be more knowledgeable and well educated while at the same time being as easily distractible as a kitten in a yarn factory. No sooner had she read one sentence than her own mind began formulating examples of the idea, until she was daydreaming and an hour later had forgotten the book entirely.
What did entropy have to do with anything? Well, it was pretty damn certain that just as soon as she had gotten things settled and neatly ordered that circumstance would lob a fragmentation grenade into the mix and then giggle with anticipation. Was it the fate of all ordered things to be utterly destroyed by chance? Was chaos never going to ultimately wipe out all possibility of order and sense? What, when you get right down to it, is in it for the universe? Is slam-dancing its way to surly oblivion the only method of locomotion that universes know?
Klobi sighed and closed the book, tossing it to the other side of the bed. Maybe being intelligent had a too crazy a syllabus to be worth it. It wasn’t doing her much good anyway. The more thoughtful she became, the less she fit in with her squad. Crannick, Dawson, and Tran weren’t the kind of folk to be impressed by quotations from Faust. They were more likely to stare in awe and wonder if Klobi were to pee standing up or knock someone out. She started to feel like their low standards were either telling her a major fact about people or else she was missing the real path to wisdom through controlled expectations and grotesque physical humor.
It seemed nature had designed Klobi to not fit in anyway. She dug around under her bed for her locker where she kept small personal items and put the book away. It was late and sleep would come and give her that wonderful feeling of eyeball ache that meant she’d be unconscious soon. No point struggling to understand eternity without its consent, she thought. It probably could not care less about the comprehensions of a hairless ape sitting in a swamp. Anyway, she thought, what, when you get right down to it, is in it for me?
She decided to visit the smoke pit before getting ready for bed. If there was anything going on, that’s where she’d learn about it. Besides, the odds were almost certain that the guys would be out there too.
In the darkness outside, the outline of a wooden gazebo that served as the barracks smoke pit was cast in the fluorescent lights from the barracks rooms. It stood at the far end of the courtyard, providing a vantage point where Marines could see the catwalks, sidewalks, and open windows of at least three floors of the building while they ingested their tobacco of choice. Two old instant coffee cans were placed at opposing corners of the entrance for butt disposal and one of them was charred from a small fire in the recent past. On her way out there, Klobi had knocked on Crannick’s door to invite him to the pit with her. He almost always said yes.
"I think he's up to no good." Klobi scowled. She lounged on one of the benches, pausing to admire the profane graffiti etched into the seat. Phallic fascination knew no bounds in the Marines. Maybe it was like ancient Rome, where dicks pointed the way to the good times. "Huh? He's like the chilliest SNCO in the company." Crannick had an annoying habit of trying to see the best in their leadership. “What did he do to you?”
"I just think," Klobi sniffed, "that he's a wolf in sheep's clothing." There was a slightly too long pause.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this your idea of some sort of zoological conspiracy?" Crannick really hated when Klobi got metaphorical.
Klobi rolled her eyes. "I'm saying that- "
"Hey, either of y'all got a smoke?" A new Marine joined them in the smoke pit and Crannick graciously offered him a menthol. As the lighter flared, Klobi could see it was LCpl Dawson.
"What's up, Dawson?" She took a pull from her own cigarette. "Living the dream." His southern drawl was even thicker with sarcasm. "Sup with you guys?"
"Klobi here is getting awfully agrarian about laundry day. " Crannick snickered.
Dawson frowned. "What? What’s that mean?" "I fucking hate you." Klobi sighed.
"What's wrong with her?" Dawson asked Crannick.
"She's been drinking the tap water." Camp Lejeune's tap water was legendary for its malignant properties and the on-base water treatment plant served every barracks, leading to some disturbing speculation on its potential as a source of chemical poisoning.
"Hey Doc!" Crannick hollered to the corpsman, Doc (PO3) Ellis, who had just emerged from the barracks. "You got anything in your bag for an idiom addiction? Klobi needs a fix stat!"
"I might actually stab you, Cranberry." Klobi got her own back by occasionally reminding him that his nickname was a fruit. “We’re talking about GySgt Castor, Dawson. Crannick seems to think he’s a swell guy.”
“No, I don’t. Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Anything to shut you up.”
“Look, I agree that GySgt Castor is kind of a bastard. He’s just not as big a bastard as you think he is.”
Klobi privately reflected that Crannick was sort of right. GySgt Castor wasn’t a bastard, as such. It was more like he had the general temperament and charm of a demonically possessed wood chipper with a personality disorder. That was fine as far as the Marine Corps was concerned, but it was also a few steps beyond ‘bastard’. She couldn’t fathom why Crannick, or anyone at all besides GySgt Castor’s mother, would ever defend the man.
“He doesn’t sign you up for duty every single time the roster comes around.” Klobi snapped. “Or fail your room inspection for having dust on a pineapple.” She added, wondering to herself how one dusts a pineapple in the first place.
“Well, get good at the job then. If you’re crucial to the shop, you might find you’re less of a target for being voluntold.” Crannick flicked his ashes. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I’ve had barracks duty, chow hall duty, battalion duty, and been sent to motor T to do preventive maintenance on the one humvee we have, all in the last six months.” Klobi took a drag. “No one is that big of a shit bird.”
“Don’t take it personally, Klobi. Crannick’s shit at the job too. He only gets by because he can run good.” Dawson smirked. “If we ever have to retreat, Crannick will be leading the way.”
Doc Ellis wandered up to join them in the dark of the gazebo. He pulled out a tin of shewing tobacco and began to pack it industriously. “How’s everyone doing?” He took a big pinch from the can and began lining his lower lip with a wad the size of a slug. It looked just as appealing.
“Hey Doc. We’re good.” Klobi grinned, thinking back to breakfast. “Actually, Crannick here has some questions for you regarding his-”
“OH BOY, would you look at the time? We’ve got PT tomorrow, y’all. Guess I’d better head back to my room!” Crannick stood up from the bench and shot her one more dirty look as he was leaving.
“Y’all need to quit smoking.” Doc Ellis said, pausing to spit into a reused plastic beverage bottle he always had with him. “It’s really bad for you.”
“Thanks Doc, I’ll forget you said that. Night all.” With that, Crannick departed, leaving the others to trickle away on their own.
“Yeah, that’s it for me too. Good night Doc, Dawson. See y’all tomorrow.” Klobi stretched and yawned, stumbling back to her room for the night.
​
And somewhere, two burly strong men shared an aggressive handshake and immediately exploded in splooge supernovas of epic scale.
​
The End. (For now)
[1] Their proper name is ‘landing support specialists’
​
[2] It does not matter if you then attend a sixty person same sex orgy, so long as you wore boot bands while you did it.

A magic circle appears on the ground in front of the ancient ruins. The group is transported to the entrance in a flash of light. John falls to his knees and starts to cry.
"It killed them," he screams.
John continues to sob uncontrollably. Kiera attempts to comfort him, but he lashes out. He pushes her away and starts to draw his sword. Marcus lunges to protect Kiera just as the sword's tip is removed from the sheath. In one swooping motion, John swings at Marcus. Luckily, because of his state of mind, John misses. Lilith walks up to John and flicks him on the forehead. John's eyes glaze over; his legs give out and he falls to the ground.
"What the hell was that?" Marcus questions.
"A simple paralysis spell," Lilith explains.
"Not that; why did he attack Kiera?"
"He didn't intentionally attack her. The orb fractured his mind, and Kiera was the closest when it finally broke."
"How the hell do you know so much about that orb thing?"
"My father told me stories from the war."
Marcus looks at Lilith, waiting for her to elaborate. "Would you care to fill us in?"
The group decides to make camp near the ruins before returning to Arcadia. Lilith sets up a tent for John and tends to the paralysis spell she placed on him while Marcus and Kiera start a campfire. After Lilith confirmed John's vital signs were normal, she started cooking dinner. She serves Marcus and Kiera a hot bowl of steaming venison stew. They start eating, waiting for Lilith to begin her story.
"At the beginning of the war, 8 years ago, two armies from the elf and human nations met in a field near a human village. The war had not yet begun, and this battle was over territory encroachment. The nearby village was expanding, and the humans needed more land to cultivate food for the growing population. The elves, however, claimed the forest to be theirs. In the middle of the battle, soldiers from both sides stop suddenly to look at a glowing red orb that appeared in the sky over the village. It stayed there for several minutes. It didn't move, didn't change in size or color. It just sat there. The fighting had stopped; it seemed to be a gift from the gods. But, just as the soldiers were heading back to camp, the orb disappeared, and a powerful shockwave destroyed the village. Some of the soldiers even reported feeling the shockwave from 4 furlongs away. The humans accused the elves of the destruction and retaliated by destroying an elven village, and the war started. My father and I were the only survivors when our village got destroyed by those disgusting…." Lilith pauses to take a deep breath. She cannot allow her emotions to control her.
"None of this makes sense," Kiera says.
"What do you mean?" Marcus asks.
"“None of this makes sense,” Kiera says.
First, why would an orb from 8 years ago be seen here in century-old ruins? And secondly, why were they reported to be a base for goblins when that is obviously not the case."
"Maybe someone has a sick sense of humor?" Lilith suggests.
The group is interrupted as John emerges from his tent and joins them by the fire.
"How are you feeling?" Lilith asks.
"A bit nauseous," he says.
Lilith prepares a bowl of stew broth and hands it to John, "This should help."
"I overheard you talking about the quest, and I had a crazy thought," John says as he slowly sips the broth. "When I met you, Marcus, you said you already had a quest."
"That is right," Marcus says. "The Guild master personally asked us to complete it."
"So, if you were picked for the job, someone may be targeting you three."
Marcus, Kiera, and Lilith look at each other in bewilderment. They can't believe the guild master would be involved in such a heinous plot.
John notices their concerned looks and tries to reassure them, "the job was probably passed through many hands before it reached the guild master. Whoever this person is, they're covering their tracks."
The four adventurers sit silently by the fire, contemplating their next move. Marcus and Kiera decide it's best if they get some sleep and continue formulating a plan in the morning. They head to their tents while Lilith and John remain by the fire.
"I'm sure you have many questions," Lilith says
"I do, but first, why do you trust me?" John asks.
"Because you have lost everything as I have."
"But we lost them in different ways. I lost mine to a powerful unknown entity while humans killed yours. So again, why do you trust me, a human?"
"I do not hate a person just because they are the same race that destroyed my village. And you did not learn about the orb until about an hour ago."
"I had already known the orb wasn't of elven origin 2 years after the incident. I was determined to find the one that killed my family. Throughout my research, I discovered that no dark elf can produce something of that magnitude."
"Well, uh...yes and no. No dark elf, as you call us, has the magical capacity to achieve something on that scale, but there is a race of elves on the northern continent who can."
Lilith explains that after her village was attacked, she began having nightmares. One occurred over and over again about a man with no name and no face. It seemed as if he would appear in her dreams purposefully. He would greet her as if they knew each other and show her his magic power.
"Are you telling me you can create an orb like the one in the ruins…?" John asks.
"yes," Lilith replies.
John stares silently at the campfire as he processes this new information.
"I'm not involved in any of this if that's what you're thinking," Lilith says defensively.
"Sure you aren’t. It was quite convenient that you put up the barrier only after the orb nearly killed us all."
"I said we needed to leave. Marcus and Kiera listened to me, but you were in shock."
John picks up a piece of firewood and tosses it on the fire. "It's going to be difficult trusting you in the future."
Lilith stands up, "why don't you sleep on it. We can discuss it more tomorrow." Lilith leaves John by the fire and walks toward her tent. She hears a faint rustling in the bushes near the forest's edge. She looks back to see John still staring into the fire. She turns back toward the woods, holds her out hands, and casts 'detect thoughts.'
"Hello, my dear Lilith," A voice says in her mind.
Lilith's eyes grow wide as she recognizes the voice. It is the man who appeared in her dreams.

This morning I planned on trying a squat PR in my home gym but when I started my workout after warming up, I went to power clean the bar (I don't do this kind of lifting but apparently that's what it's called) with 50kg on, like I sometimes do because I'm too lazy to take the weight off and put it on the rack and put weight back on. While power cleaning the bar I started feeling buzzed and then was on the verge of passing out for a moment after racking it. This had never happened to me in 3 years of lifting so kinda scary knowing I could potentially pass out unexpectedly. Still hit that squat PR after that tho

Greetings, everyone!
As the title says, I've put it in my head to make a setting to use as a basis for a small cluster of groups to run campaigns in and interactively shape the setting through the activities of each campaign. My plan is to have a solid foundation of setting, then invite other GMs to shape the fineries of the setting together. Finally, each GM would have their own group using the same basic ruleset and keep track of how that group changes the setting. Then, we'd consolidate the changes and use these as new plot hooks, changes to the environment, etc. Is it a Pipe Dream? Perhaps. But better to have tried and failed than to have never tried.
First, some basics about the setting:
The active part of the setting is limited to a single city. Anything beyond the walls of this city (at least beyond the local farms...) is "off-screen" action. This city, however, is likely the largest city in the world, built upon ruins of untold ancient secrets and diffused with magic, both the "will aid you in your darkest hour" kind and the "blows up your library for mispronouncing Xyhklrectizism" kind, depending on aptitude, talent and, most importantly, sheer luck. Since the first two of those are still marginally important, the Great Academy of Magic has been around for a couple of centuries to somewhat offset the greatest misfortunes.
The ruins below the city have long spewed out monsters and magical artifacts, acting as both a boon and a curse to the perpetually homeless, injured, terrified but notably rich citizenry - that is, until the current King, Vailart the Tamer, ventured down to the bottom of the ruins and somehow calmed and tamed the ruins nearly a century ago. Today, the city is as peaceful as any and far more rich, even with a much less constant stream of magical artifacts being salvaged from the bowels of the Ruins.
Being as big as it is, the City is partitioned into multiple, very distinct disctricts that are heavily influenced by magical phenomena oozing out of the Ruins. Be it mystical fog that dulls the senses, an innate understanding of a person's very soul or the ability to bring any object to life - each of these phenomena, the "Influences", shape a district for better or worse. But much more than its magic, the city is defined by its inhabitants. The citizens pride themselves in seeing the crazy and unbelievable as a daily occurrence, nod and wish it a good morning, then go on their merry way. The city is unjudging, as it at most only cares about either the gold in your pockets, the strength of your arm or, if you are crazy enough to mingle with that kind, your ability in the field of magic.
There is a lot going on in this city. From the violent dealings of the Thieves' Guild, over the drudging studies in the Great Academy of Magic to the seemingly endless Forlorn Forest that is being cut down regardless, there is plenty to see, do and get killed by. This is Tomboro, often called the City of Legends - past, present... and future!
And a remark about the rules used, since they do impact the setting quite a bit...
Spheres of Power is the main key difference to most settings, which carries some implications, such as:

• Different types of Magic (divine, arcane, ect.) exist but are not tied to specific classes.
• Since martials get a wider selection of abilities in Spheres, a multitude of fighting schools have established themselves in the city
• Magic Casters can differ wildly and be exactly the same, no matter whether they're from different or the same classes. As such, classes themselves have a smaller than normal impact on the setting.

And... I think that's it... Thank you for sticking with me through this long post. I'd love to answer some questions, of course what I wrote isn't the entirety of what I have written down already, but it's the unexpected questions that are best to build out the setting.
So with that: I'm trying to think of a setting to build out together with others, AMA!