Anything and everything about Cochise County, Arizona.
I connected with K for 4 months. Open, casual relationship. We defined casual to mean light and fun, and that we would reassess as time went on. We reassessed 2 months in and decided to incorporate more emotional connection. We started sharing a bit more. She had a toothbrush at my place, we hit early AM gym classes at the community center, I introduced her to skating, we sledded, she brought me tea and warm clothes during a snowstorm, came over for Valentines with a big prepped thing of food since I was swamped at work. We took a weekend trip, I met her brothers and her friends. Things felt good. The chemistry was great.
We spent a 3 separate days together one week and it was a lot. I also asked if she could check in with me during the week just to give a rundown ie "Hey, I have friends in town this wknd but could catch you next week maybe?" Nothing crazy. She seemed cool with this and thanked me for communicating. 2 days later, she said she had no space for a relationship and we could continue hanging but without any expectations at all. I was a bit surprised and hurt but respected her honesty. We had agreed on casual after all. But it was striking that she pulled back after initiating so much closeness.
I checked in again later and said that convo wasn't sitting right. We ended things because she said she didn't want to deal with conflict or anyone's emotions. She knew she wasn't treating me well and didn't want to string me along. I thanked her for her honesty, said I was sad it wasn't working out, and didn't press her for more. We both lamented that we'd really miss each other, and a lot about each other. She lingered for a while. We talked about random things. It was sad.
I appreciate her honesty and accept where she's at. I accept that this level of confusion means there is no future between us. But it really stings. I feel really surprised. I know this is dating. I know sometimes it just doesn't work. But I'm having a lot of sadness around this ending.
I'm connecting with another human, and I have friends and hobbies and goals. But this ending really hurts right now, and I'm crying lots. It's jarring to have someone say they just can't and bail, even though I respect the honesty and where they are and am glad we had closure. Has anyone faced a similar situation or can give any advice on moving through something like this?
Wondering where I should go, or if guitar center is the only game in town now.
A slave-driving murderer had just publicly declared war on us. The cheering and applause of the people standing around us was an eerie and ominous accompaniment to the feeling of dread swelling in my chest and radiating down to my stomach. He'd captured
all of them thus far. I swallowed and dropped my gaze down to the pavement as it dawned on me that all of those people had tasted freedom, and were then immediately and mercilessly hunted down and dragged back to hell.
But there was an interesting caveat there. He called us by the names O'Malley had erroneously wrote down in his ledger. The men that were chasing us that day had picked up our
actual fake aliases, but then we'd killed them at the inn. It seemed that knowledge died with them– a drop of good luck in a raging downpour it seemed.
"William," I said just loud enough to catch his attention.
He turned and eyed me. "Huh? Were you talking to me?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. Who else would I be calling William?"
He narrowed his eyes, "It's
Tovin, you spaz."
I glanced around nervously. Nobody appeared to have been listening to us. I took him by the shoulder and led him away from the crowd gathered around the picture boxes. "What are you doing?" I hissed.
"What am
I doing?" he scoffed. "What are
you doing? You know my name. What, are you playing a game right now?"
"Our aliases," I said through my teeth. "We're using fake names, remember?"
His expression changed from annoyed and confused to forlorn and somber. He swallowed and looked away. "... I'm losing it again, aren't I?" he asked.
I remained silent. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want him to feel worse about it, but that would have been a dangerous slip-up in front of the wrong person. Before now, I was starting to think that Tovin back home had overblown how quickly the mental decline would be.
"Don't worry about it," I said finally, passing him on the sidewalk further into the city. "Come on. We need to find a way to make some money."
"And fast," he added, trailing behind me. "We need food, clothes, and a couple of beds. And more cigarettes, too. I've only got a few left and I'm trying to make them last."
We walked the mazelike streets of Bronzegirder looking for work. I wasn't used to Diesel society yet and often found myself hung up on storefront windows that marketed all kinds of gadgets and technology. I would do my best not to stare when people walked by wearing metallic pieces on their persons.
Some wore gadgets on their forearms, some on their wrists, and others in various other areas. I wondered what purpose they served, where they were sold, and how expensive they could be. And it wasn't just the gadgets. There were far more dark-skinned people here than we had in Galgia. It was something I had read about but never experienced. They ranged from light tan all the way to almost black, and it just added to the culture shock.
There appeared to be people living in the buildings above the storefronts. The tall towers we had seen in the far distance earlier served as housing as well as business space. Diesillians stood on their balconies, some hanging wet laundry, others leaning over their railing while they enjoyed a drink or a smoke. We passed so many things I would have wanted to stop and look at were we not being hunted. DuPonte seemed awfully sure of himself when he said he'd find us, but for the life of me, I couldn't imagine how one would find
antything they were looking for in this city.
"I'm totally lost," I admitted. "We need a map or something."
He remained quiet. I turned to speak to him more directly only to find that he wasn't behind me anymore. My stomach dropped as I looked around at the sea of people.
"William?" I called out. "William!"
It was no good. I'd have to literally scream if I wanted to breach the drone of the crowd, and I couldn't afford to draw too much attention to myself. There was also the possibility that he'd forgotten his name again anyway. I adjusted the straps of my backpack and sighed deeply before doubling back. He couldn't have wandered
too far away, and he'd be easy to spot against the horde of people in more modern clothing.
I kept close to the storefronts as I picked up my pace. I began to peer into each store as I passed them. The longer I searched, the more I worried. He wasn't in his right mind. He'd get himself noticed and captured if he let too much slip, or pulled down his hood. I came to the turn we had taken after we'd left the picture boxes. He was with me at this point, I was sure of it. I turned around and swallowed as I scanned the crowd.
This was really, really, bad.
"William?" I tried again. I decided to cross the street and nearly got run over by one of their vehicles. It screeched to a stop and when I lowered my arms, I found the front of the metallic machine inches from my face.
"Git the fuck oudda da road!" shouted the pilot, shaking his fist in the air. I quickly scurried onto the opposite sidewalk and made my way down the street with the flow of the crowd. I kept my eyes peeled as I walked. It was difficult to see over everyone's shoulders. Diesillians were a good deal taller than Galgians as a rule, and it made it a nightmare for an average-sized guy like myself. Just when I was about to start asking around, something caught my ear.
Something I never expected to hear– music.
I stopped in my tracks and the public parted around me like a river around a boulder. I turned toward the sound and followed my ears to a large silver pavilion nestled between two tall buildings. It looked like an empty lot that had been designed for another tall building but instead served as some sort of inner-city courtyard where live entertainment performed.
I slowly approached as a woman stood in front of a mic stand singing while a band performed with shining metallic instruments behind her. She had black hair styled in a way I'd never seen hair styled. It was pulled up and around under a hat and shined the same as her red lipstick did. But what awed me the most was that she was
singing.
No danger; no combat; no sign of beasts being summoned forth. She sang beautifully, adding something to music that I had never in my life once considered because in Galgia, to sing was to slaughter. Music was a tool of war and forbidden entirely outside of such circumstances, for if one of us were even to hum, anything could come crawling out of the resulting portal.
But here she was, singing what I presumed were the words to a poem in perfect rhythm and harmony with the band that played behind her.
"You're my machine, my heart's ignition. The gears that keep my love in motion. You're the engine that never tires– the pistons set my soul on fire."
I was completely taken in. It was therefore no surprise to me that here in the crowd, I spotted Tovin watching her with equal admiration from the edge of the stage. I weaved through the crowd as politely as I was able and then stopped next to him. He glanced at me before quickly returning his eyes back to the stage. I didn't say anything to him; no words needed said so long as she was singing.
"You, my dear, a love machine, the one that keeps my bearings clean– I'm addicted to your engine's roar, your power's what I'm living for."
I wasn't a
hundred percent sure what she was talking about, but it was clearly a love song written for one lucky guy. When the song was finished, she ever so slightly lifted her ruby-red dress from the sides and took a bow. The crowd clapped, a few whistles coming from somewhere behind us.
"Thank you," she said softly into the mic. "It's important to remember that love conquers all," she said, passing her deep black eyes over us. "Hatred fades over time, but love lasts; it endures. This next song is about a long lost love and reconnection."
We stayed and listened to a couple more songs before she left the stage, and the band with her. She disappeared on promises of returning tomorrow for a second show. Of all the things thus far I had seen in the land of our enemy, something so sweet as non-weaponized music ranked among the most surprising and awe-inspiring.
As the crowd began to disperse back onto the main street, I turned to Tovin. "Hey, do me a favor and don't disappear like that. I didn't know where you were and we've
got to stick together."
"Can we come back here tomorrow?" he asked, completely ignoring what I'd said. He stared at me with hopeful eyes, a small smile on his face. It still felt strange of him to ask me permission for anything, but I couldn't deny that it was a pretty magical performance.
"Only if we live that long," I answered with a heaping helping of snark. "We need money so we can get off these streets tonight. Come on, we're losing daylight."
He looked past my shoulder and suddenly pointed. "What about that?"
I turned to see a bulletin board posted on the side of a building not far from us. On it were several posts, but one of them specifically read, "200 Octim Sign-On Bonus." The two of us walked up the board and looked over the job.
"There's a sign-on bonus," Tovin said as his eyes moved down the paper. "The Empress needs you. Galgian dogs sent monsters to run amok in our fair empire. Officials are spread thin amidst heightened tensions with Galgia's military. Find and kill monsters for bounties. Seek employment at the Hunters' Barracks at 443 Alloy Avenue on the north side of town. Look for the men in uniform."
"Monsters?" I asked. "There aren't any monsters in Galgia. None in all of Aurii if our textbooks are accurate."
"You want to at least check it out?" he asked.
"I think we'd be wasting our time," I said dismissively. "We hiked through a bunch of wilderness closer to the Galgian border and we didn't see anything all night."
He folded his arms. "Then let's get our sign-on bonus and
leave."
That was such a fantastic point that I pushed my palm against my forehead and visibly cringed. "Oof. Why am I so
dumb?" I whined.
"I don't think you're
dumb," Tovin said as he moved down the bulletin board to look at other flyers. "I think you're just honest to a fault. It never would have occurred to you to do something so underhanded."
I would never get used to compliments from Tovin. It was like watching a different person wear his body and speak with his voice. Had life at ENU really been such a drag on him?
"None of these other jobs are offering money upfront," he added, turning to face me. "Let's head to the north side of town and see if we can find Alloy Avenue."
x - - x - - x - - ★ - - x - - x - - x
The walk was long and difficult– not because it was too far, but because we had to pass so much delicious-smelling food along the way. I hadn't been sure before if Tovin was as hungry as I was, but the north side of Bronzegirder was quiet enough to hear both of our stomachs growling in concert with one another. The buildings were made of brick in the district we wandered through, and the walkways were closer to cobblestone like the kind we had back home. The roads were three times as wide, there were benches along the walkways, and they had planted trees caged in black iron gates at the trunks. The few people that strolled the sidewalks on Alloy Avenue were well-to-do, dressed in expensive-looking suits and wearing high hats with wide brims.
"I like this side of town better," Tovin said as we looked for building addresses. "Though I have to say, I'm surprised to see trees in the collossity."
"Goes a little against what we were taught doesn't it?" I asked.
"I don't recall being taught anything," he grumbled. "It's just another thing I somehow know."
I cast him a sympathetic glance and he didn't seem to like it. He scowled at me, "Don't you pity me."
"I'm not," I rolled my eyes. "I'd
never feel bad for
you Tovin, not in a thousand years."
"Just shut up," he snapped. "We're here."
He stopped in front of a brick building with an impressive stone staircase that had bronze handrails running up the length of them. At the top were two men in uniform just as the flyer had indicated. He was the first to start up the steps and I quickly followed behind him. As we passed them I took a good look at their uniforms. I could have sworn that I'd seen them somewhere before. We walked up to the glass doors and pulled them open.
A blast of warm air blew over us as we entered the building and it was a welcome reprieve from the cold. Inside was smaller than I had anticipated. I was expecting high ceilings, murals, metal artwork, and all kinds of stuff from how nice the outside looked. Instead, we found ourselves standing in a dirty lobby about the size of a headmaster's office. There were several rows of chairs dotted with people filling out forms on clipboards. At the back of the lobby was a little window with a man sitting on the other side. He was dark-skinned, had a shaved head, and bore a grisly pink scar across his cheek. He waved us forward when he noticed us.
"Let me do the talking," I whispered to Tovin, taking the lead in front of him as we made our way over; he didn't protest.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," he spoke into a microphone that relayed his voice to us through a little black device on the window. "Thinking about joining up?"
Before I could even speak, Tovin leaned onto the counter. "So when you say monsters," he adopted a skeptical look. "You mean like the ones that don't exist?"
The man behind the counter rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, another conspiracy theorist."
"What did you call me?" Tovin shot back.
"Ahhh, ha ha," I called out loudly, pulling Tovin back by his shoulder. "My brother is better at fighting than talking," I covered quickly. "Just talk to me from here on in."
He cast me a disinterested glance before handing us both clipboards with forms attached. "Whatever. Just read the whole thing and sign the liability waiver at the bottom. He's free to deny their existence while they're chewing his face off, but the
empire won't be responsible for it."
I took both of the clipboards and passed one to Tovin. The two of us sat down and began going through them– and immediately, we faced a problem. They wanted first and last names, home addresses, medical history, and something called landline numbers. Tovin and I exchanged glances; this wasn't going to work.
I stood up and slowly walked back up to the counter as I looked over the document. Every time I looked, it seemed more and more ridiculous. Blood type? Social security number? Insurance provider? I didn't know what any of this meant. It might as well have been in an entirely different language.
"Did you have a question?" asked the man behind the counter.
"Yeah, I don't have
most of this information," I said, setting the clipboard down on the counter. "Sorry, but we're gonna have to just go."
"Well, hang on now," he said, reaching under the little pass-through window and retrieving the clipboard. "I take it you boys are homeless then?" he asked.
"Uhh... Yeah," I answered tentatively. Did they really have such a homeless problem that he was able to jump to that conclusion so quickly? "We don't know how to answer these questions, so thanks anyways."
"I said hang on, dammit," he called through the mic before swiveling around in his chair and pulling some kind of lever underneath it that caused it to sink lower to the floor. He opened a cabinet and began rifling through it. I peered through the window at his chair– it was on some kind of ball axis that allowed him to spin in it freely. I felt like every couple of minutes I was seeing something I'd never seen before. He swiveled back around and lifted his chair back up before he handing me a new form. It was more like a strip of paper with three questions on it.
Shirt size, shoe size, and pant size.
There was a second slip of paper underneath it. I looked back up at the window attendant as Tovin appeared next to me. I handed him the slip of paper and we exchanged glances.
"The empire isn't being picky right now," spoke the man through the speaker. "You'll be assigned a number, a gun, and a uniform. You won't be eligible for emergency care, and you can't be assigned to a party. It'll be just the two of you. If you're still interested, we need all the help we can get."
I shrugged at Tovin, and he got to work filling out the information. I leaned on the counter and jotted down my uniform size before signing the waiver and handing everything back. He took both of the documents and then nodded toward the door on his right. "Come on back."
He reached under the table and did something that caused the door to make a whirring sound. It popped open on its own, and he thumbed us over to it. "Close it on your way in. Walk straight down the hall and through the third door on your left. Your hunter number is 27B and his is 28B."
We walked down the hallway and found the designated door already opened and with a sign on the inside that read, "Uniforms HERE" with an arrow pointing into the room. We were met by a portly woman with bouncy curls that hung down to her shoulders. She sat behind a desk absolutely surrounded by hanging uniforms, all kept in clear covering. She sized us up with a retractable ruler– the coolest ruler I had
ever seen. After she took our measurements, she began sifting through uniforms.
"Why did they ask us for our sizes if they were going to measure us?" Tovin grumbled.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Just be quiet."
"Don't tell me to be quiet," he shot back, elbowing me in the ribs.
She turned around holding two suits by the hangers, one in each hand. "Your uniforms will come out of your first bounty collected," she announced. "No money needed upfront. Change into them and make sure they fit." We took them from her and she breezed past us. "Holler out here when you're changed." She closed the door behind her.
We turned away from one another and began getting dressed. I pulled back the crinkly clear material and looked down at the uniform. Now that I was seeing it closer, it was actually an extremely dark shade of blue, rather than black as I had thought prior. I looked down at the hat and held it in my hands. I had seen it before. Then, all at once, it came rushing back to me.
These were the uniforms of the men that had come to the mine. They had come carrying guns to inspect the worksite after what had happened to Hammer. Skully must have thought a monster had gotten to him based on the state of his body. I stared down at the uniform in disbelief. Could monsters really be running around in Diesel territory?
"You better not be looking over here," Tovin warned.
They had mistaken what Tovin had done for a monster attack. Skully's "fonekall" wasn't a pilgrimage. It was some form of long-distance communication. She reached out to the capital to request aid from someone, and they sent these guys. I began to wonder if I was making a mistake. If we could be dispatched like that, then we could feasibly be sent back to the camp.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We were only in it for the sign-on bonus. Once we had that in our hands, we'd be outta here. We could even jump to the next town. They knew nothing about us other than our clothing size. We could be dust in the wind by tomorrow morning.
I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and quickly got dressed. The uniform fit perfectly, it was comfortable, and best of all had been designed with a high collar. It covered our neck markings perfectly. I turned to see Tovin with the hat on already. He looked like a classic Diesel villain from a comic book I had read as a kid.
"It fits nice," he said, testing the range of motion he had in his arms. "I think this will work."
"Yeah," I nodded. "Let's get our money and get the hell out."
"Speaking my language," he smirked.
He moved for the door and leaned out, calling for the attendant. I looked at myself in the full-body mirror and did a quick turnaround. I had to admit, I looked pretty darn stylish. The white gloves, belt, and hat looked pretty good against the dark blue and gold buttons.
The woman returned and smiled at both of us, her curls bouncing as she tossed her gaze cartoonishly left and right between us. "You two look good!"
"Thanks," I smiled back. "When do we get our sign-on bonus?"
"Oh, don't worry about that just yet," she said, moving back to her desk. "Do you boys know how to shoot?" she asked as she sat down.
"Shoot?" Tovin asked.
"A gun," she clarified, her smile fading. "Have either of you shot a gun?"
"No, ma'am," I answered. "Our parents didn't let us near them growing up."
"That's no problem," she said, lifting her hands. "We're happy to teach you the basics. You'll just exit the room and go left down to the very end of the hallway. I'll buzz you through the double doors at the end, and Old Mitchell will take you from there."
Tovin audibly groaned, and I took him by the arm, leading him out of the room. We walked down the hallway as he bellyached about what a waste of time it was. It was unlike him to turn his nose up at the opportunity to learn the ins and outs of a new weapon. In fact, he'd been acting weirdly childish lately. I didn't like it. It beat dealing with Tovin-Classic, but it was still a hassle. As we neared the end of the hallway, we began hearing the sound of guns being fired one by one.
The doors buckled and hummed the same as the first door had, and we pushed them open. We passed into a large room with Diesillians shooting at targets a good distance away. This was why the building was so large and the lobby was so small. The brick walls were covered in informational and safety posters, as well as what appeared to be schematics for the weapons themselves.
I looked across the large room to see a man striding toward us. He was wearing shiny black boots that were laced tightly to his calves. His pants and jacket were hunter green, and he bore perhaps the silliest mustache I'd ever seen; It was long and curled at the tips. I had to be careful not to snicker– his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and I couldn't tell if he was watching me.
"New recruits?" he called out to us from entirely too far away.
"Yes sir," I called back. "My brother and I just signed up."
"Brothers!" he exclaimed. "I love it, dammit!" He stopped in front of us. He was chewing on something and was being as obnoxious as he possibly could about it. He was wearing perhaps the stupidest hat I had seen of the Diesel yet. It had no visible brim and was high on one side while sloping down toward the other. For the life of me, I couldn't discern the purpose of it.
"You boys know how to shoot?" he asked.
"No sir," I shook my head. "We're new at this."
"Good," he smiled widely. "That means you haven't formed any bad habits yet. I love newbies," he said before waving for us to follow him. "Come on, let's get you your rifles. I'm Mitch, but folks around here call me Old Mitchell."
"James," I said as I followed after him. "This is my brother William." It was difficult to talk over the noise of the weapons. I occasionally jumped when someone shot their gun nearby– a reflex I couldn't wait to be rid of. He led us to a small room; so small that it might as well have been a glorified safe. He disappeared inside and came back out holding two guns. The same long metal tubes Tovin and I had been attacked with at O'Malley's inn.
We each took one and promptly inspected it. Suddenly, Old Mitchell stepped forward and grabbed both of our guns by the barrel, lifting them so they were pointed at the ceiling.
"You boys ever even
held one of these?" he barked. "Careful where you aim.
Never point one of these at anything or anyone that you're not prepared to destroy."
"They sweep you, Mitch?" asked a man as he passed behind us.
"Pointed 'em right at me," he called back with a laugh. "We'll get 'em straightened out, don't you worry about that." He looked at us both, chewing aggressively. "Now I'm gonna let these rifles go. You keep 'em pointed up, you understand?"
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"Sure," Tovin said in a disinterested tone.
He let go of our rifles and we kept them pointed at the ceiling as we were told. I looked up and down the length of the tube before turning it over and inspecting the area under the barrel. It was split underneath with what looked like some kind of spring running along the length of the tube.
"They're not loaded," Mitch said, waving for us to follow him to the other side of the room. "But you will always treat them like they are. I'm going to show you how to load them over here. Set them down on the desk, I'm gonna stand between the two of you so I can watch you both."
I set my gun down in front of me and looked to my right. There was a box of what I presumed to be bullets. I expected them to be round pellet-like projectiles, but they were tubular with roughly textured heads on them.
"Turn your weapon over. You'll notice you can see a spring inside the bottom of the barrel. Close to the other end of your gun, you'll find a little round tab there. Take that tab and push it with your thumb all the way up toward the tip of the barrel. You'll then pop it out to the side there."
I did as he asked, and sure enough, the barrel popped out to the left at the tip of the weapon. I glanced over at Tovin who was struggling with the spring. Old Mitchell moved over and helped him with it. "Sometimes they get stuck," he muttered as he got Tovin to the same step I was at.
"Now," he shouted. "Take your ammunition right there in the box next to you, and begin placing the rounds into the underside of the barrel, flat side first. Then, you'll load more bullets into the gun overlapping one another. Be careful not to let the rounds collide with one another too heavily, or you could have a little accident."
I loaded the bullets carefully one after another until the barrel was about full. He checked on Tovin's rifle, and then inspected mine.
"Good. Now realign the barrel, there and come with me to the bay," he said, starting toward the practice range. I carefully lifted the weapon and rested it against my shoulder, turning with Tovin to follow him. When we stopped at the range, he motioned for Tovin first. "Come on, Will, we're gonna start with you."
"Pass," he said nonchalantly.
Old Mitchell blinked twice. "What?"
"I want to see Gill do it first," he said, stepping out of my way.
"It's a nickname," I said quickly, stepping up to the range. "Anyways, I'll go first, I don't mind, what do I do here?"
Mitch remained silent for a couple of seconds before clapping his hands once. "Okay! Well, go ahead and pull the hammer back."
I looked down at the weapon and then back up at him. Sensing my confusion, he carefully reached forward and pulled back a little tiny lever on the top of the rifle until it clicked. "That's called pulling the hammer back," he said. "Will, you watching this?"
He didn't wait for a response. "Next thing you're gonna do is pull that lever out underneath the gun. That's going to load the weapon with a fresh cartridge. You're gonna do that between every shot, now. Lift it up against your shoulder like this; get it snug in there." He pulled it against my shoulder. "Look down the iron sight there at the tip of the rifle and line it up against your target. Your weapon is primed and ready to fire. You're good for fifteen shots before you've got to reload. You can always flip it over to see how many bullets are left. Go ahead and aim carefully, and try and hit that target paper down there."
At the end of the range, there was a piece of paper with a silhouette of a human head, shoulders, and torso. I closed one eye for better aim and held the gun tightly as I lined up my shot.
"Don't
pull the trigger," Mitch advised in my left ear. "Squeeze it. Squeeze the trigger until it doesn't move easily anymore. Then when you're sure about your aim, squeeze with just that little bit of extra strength you need."
I did as he said, and felt what he was referring to. With my target in sight, my hand steady, and my aim as true as I could hope for, I fired the weapon. The shot rang out right in my ear, but interestingly enough, it wasn't so bad when I was the one firing. I was ready for it, and expecting it.
"Holy smokes!" exclaimed Mitch. "You put one right between the eyes!"
"Beginners's luck," said a man from behind me. "I did the same thing first time I shot, and never did it again."
"Let's prove him wrong, James," Old Mitchell laughed. "Now use that lever under the gun to eject the casing and load a fresh bullet."
I pulled the lever and the shiny little bullet casing popped out the top and flew over my shoulder. It was a really satisfying feeling.
"Do I pull the hammer again? I asked.
"Nope, it'll pop back down. You'll only pull that hammer back the first time. Go ahead and fire again, only this time, aim for the neck."
"Alright," I said, closing my eye and tightening my focus. I squeezed the trigger just as I had the first time and shot a hole straight through the center of the target's neck. I lifted my head and smiled. "I hit it!"
"No way," said the man behind me. "Ain't never shot before, my ass. He's taking you for a ride, Mitch."
"You're sure you're new at this, son?" Old Mitchell asked, one eye half shut. "That's really impressive, kid. Seriously, if this is your first time holding a rifle, you might be cut out for the military. Had a staff sergeant with worse aim than you."
"Alright, alright," Tovin pushed me aside. "My turn. Let me show you something you'll never forget."
The two of us took turns shooting for hours. We hadn't even noticed the time going by. For once, it seemed Tovin had found something he wasn't naturally amazing at, and it was infuriating him to no end.
Conversely, I found something I was really,
really good at. I hit my target almost every time, and to be honest, I couldn't figure out what was so difficult about it. A crowd had gathered to watch me shoot. I got really swift with the lever, and could shoot out both of a target's eyes, and put one in its forehead in a matter of seconds.
Tovin wasn't a bad shot, but I knew how he felt. If he wasn't first, he was last as far as he was concerned, and at one point he about threw his rifle. Old Mitchell had to talk to him about how some things come naturally to others, and how he shouldn't be discouraged from coming to the range and practicing.
It was rich hearing Tovin get that talk of all people. The natural genius that outshined everyone, struggling with something for the very first time. I almost couldn't believe I was better than him at something, and of course, it just
had to be the thing that we'd never do again once we found our friends and went back home.
Our friends.
We were wasting time here. "Hey, Mitchel," I turned toward him. "When do we get our sign-on bonus? It was supposed to be something like 200 octims."
"You get your sign-on bonus when you bring back your first bounty," he responded quickly.
"What?" Tovin shouted. "That's not fair! We signed on, now where's our money?"
I was equally upset. We were lied to. But it made sense that they couldn't just hand us uniforms, cash, and a gun, and let us go. They wanted to make sure we at least killed a monster.
"It's fine," I said with a sigh. "Where can we find bounties?"
"It's not fine," Tovin protested.
I yanked him by the collar of his shirt and looked him in the eyes. "It's fine," I said slowly and firmly. "We'll run out, bag a monster, and be back before dark."
He held eye contact with me for several seconds before shrugging me off of him and walking away. He stormed across the bay and left through the double doors at the other end of the room.
"My brother was the same way," said Mitch. "Hard-headed. Stubborn as a mule. Loyal as anyone you'd ever meet though."
He had no idea. Tovin wasn't just difficult, but he was turning into a walking liability. I didn't know how much longer I could take him acting like this. Suddenly, Mitch extended his arm, pointing to a door adjacent to where he'd gotten our guns from.
"Bounty board is in there. Come on, I'll show you."
It was a medium-sized room with several corkboards wall to wall filled with bounties. Every monster was named and almost all of them were sketched to a professional degree. You could find how much money the monster was going for, which hunters it had killed, where it was last seen, as well as whether or not there were hunters currently after it.
They had a system where you would notate which monster you were going after, and if you didn't return, they'd add your name under the list of hunters that died searching for it. There were so many monsters I couldn't believe it, and according to Old Mitchell, these were only the monsters within a five-mile radius of Bronzegirder.
I learned the process of choosing a bounty and chose a smaller monster with no names under its fatality list. Mitch agreed it was a good monster for beginners, and offered a few pointers for tracking it. I submitted the bounty request and got it approved before leaving the bay and heading down the hall in search of Tovin. I entered the lobby and didn't see him. I left the building and found him at the top of the steps staring out into the street where a couple of vehicles were hauling something massive together under a tarp.
Several uniformed hunters were walking slowly next to the vehicles. Their uniforms were tattered and bloodstained, and a few of them walked with a limp. We watched as the exhausted men passed the building on their way down the road. Two of them were sobbing silently, but we could tell by their exposed teeth and wrinkled expressions that they'd lost someone.
From beneath the tarp, a scaly limb fell off the side of the vehicle and dangled lifelessly. It was a reptilian-looking arm with an open wound, and the shredded remnants of a uniform hanging from its claws.
"Gill," Tovin said quietly. "Is that..."
"Yeah," I answered.
"That's definitely a monster."
Writing Prompt Submitted by
u/My-Last-Hope TL;DR: the directionality of the circle pulls at the end of games has too much influence over the outcome of the game. IMO, the circle should simply begin shrinking sooner in the game rather than moving.
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The tldr is pretty much the issue thesis: the outcome of any given WZ game is too heavily influenced by where the circle decides to pull late-game.
Particularly in rebirth where there are are no recons, there’s no way to deliberately and strategically position yourself (with respect to circle movement) in the later stages of the game. It’s a coin-flip whether it pulls your way and you get that huge advantage, or if it pulls the opposite way and you end up having to sprint to outrun the circle.
My solution is that circles should simply begin shrinking earlier in the game than they currently do. When the circle shrinks, everyone knows what the most advantageous position is to be: the center. If you want to take a strategic position relative to the circle, you have to take on the risk of increased exposure (because others will want to be there as well). That seems fair, trading good position for increased risk. As it stands now, there is no similar strategic trade off, it’s just luck. Most players ride the edge of the circle late game and simply hope for a good pull.
Now, I’m not trying to say it’s impossible right now to win games when you don’t get the circle pull in your direction, but it is most certainly made exponentially harder.
Thoughts on this?
I was up off and on all night. Honestly jumping from dream to dream wasn't ideal. So much going on. I had dreams where I wandered a volcanic crater, dreams where I was in a battle, and dreams where there was naught but terror before me.
I wandered those dreams woke up and fell asleep, but what stuck in my head was this dream about being in a VR game.
There were a few games I could play, though they all stemmed from the same theme. The first game I dropped into, it was an apocalypse. People were fighting and dying, shooting eachother. The goal was to gather as much ammunition and hide away. I went through guns quickly, my shots getting better and better. Until I ran out of bullets then I had to use a dagger.
I was trying to find more bullets as I ran up to people and stabbed them. Night fell in game and I realized I stuck out like a sore thumb so I restarted the game. This time the character I chose wasn't a soldier but cat kin. I was a thief and my goal was to find clothes that would hide me. I couldn't control the transformations, but I did find a great gown along with gloves corset and a hat before I was caught.
Again, I had to restart. The game world I dropped into this time, was a world as a superstar singer. I had to defend myself against other figures. So me and my band mates carrying melee weapons raced through a deserted town until we came upon a familiar restaurant. We raced inside to see a man filming sexual paradise videos, even though the world was ragged and run through.
I kept in this game, I think because I had no choice. Me and my comrades left the restaurant and got split up looking for supplies.
I saw a video play of a woman accepting death. She just leaned back on a bench and died. It freaked me out and I questions why she died, like what happened. One of my band mates ran up to me then looking worse for wear. He had brusing on his face. I reached over and touched it and he screamed in pain. At this point night is falling so we race back go the restaurant. Some others decide they want to put up lights. I think it's a bad idea. As the rain starts to come down though we see a vehicle pull in and people coming out with flashlights. I tell my guys to hide and we exit the restaurant as these people with lights enter.
"Spread out and find them." We hear a voice say. I look over and see Dr types. People in labcoats carrying guns and flashlights. We duck and dodge their light beams as we attempt to run away. At one point, a light hits me and I panic and swing an arm and an army of mud people (courtesy of Left4dead2) rise up and race towards the scientists.
"Stop, we're trying to help you." A woman yells.
Like I would believe that, I think to myself and race as far away as I could.
I'm tracked many different places and get good looks at the scientists chasing me. I almost think it's comical who they are. An adult Dexter from Dexter's Laboratory, the female Doc Oct. The sisters from Johnny test, and a couple others I couldn't place.
The way I'm finally captured though. On an air carrier with no where to go. I decide to jump for it and as I'm plummeting towards the water, I'm caught up in the tentacles and safely set in the water. A woman strokes my face, not Doc Oct, and suddenly I'm gasping for air as I wake up wake up.
We've been together for 4 years and I feel like he often takes our disagreements to extreme lenghts and reacts surprisingly.
For example: We work/study in different towns so we see eachother couple days a week. Tomorrow he has a day off and I wanted to take a day off too, to spend some quality time together.( I am a student and my classmates will give me attendance, I spend all my free time studying and even attend if I'm ill, so this is a rare occurrence.)
He said that it's extremely irresponsible for someone in this profession to just skip school and that when he studied(same major) they never skipped a day of university. And basically telling me what a bad student I am.
This made me angry as I hoped he would be delighted we have a day for eachother. I said he should rather stay in his town tomorrow and he said that if he stays tomorrow he is never coming back and will only pick up his stuff. (???) I said if he feels that's best for him I will respect his decision.
This is all because I wanted some positive reaction from him for me staying at home with him and he ends up suggesting a break-up?! Then he apologized for his behaviour over text.
TL;DR: Fiance proposes breaking up as a solution when we are fighting. This keeps happening over and over.
I don't know how to fix this pattern of behaviour- suggesting splitting up after minor problems. Any advice?
We've been together for 4 years and I feel like he often takes our disagreements to extreme lenghts and reacts surprisingly.
For example: We work/study in different towns so we see eachother couple days a week. Tomorrow he has a day off and I wanted to take a day off too, to spend some quality time together.( I am a student and my classmates will give me attendance, I spend all my free time studying and even attend if I'm ill, so this is a rare occurrence.)
He said that it's extremely irresponsible for someone in this profession to just skip school and that when he studied(same major) they never skipped a day of university. And basically telling me what a bad student I am.
This made me angry as I hoped he would be delighted we have a day for eachother. I said he should rather stay in his town tomorrow and he said that if he stays tomorrow he is never coming back and will only pick up his stuff. (???) I said if he feels that's best for him I will respect his decision.
This is all because I wanted some positive reaction from him for me staying at home with him and he ends up suggesting a break-up?! Then he apologized for his behaviour over text.
TL;DR: Fiance proposes breaking up as a solution when we are fighting. This keeps happening over and over.
I don't know how to fix this pattern of behaviour- suggesting splitting up after minor problems. Any advice?
Okay it's 1:46am Wednesday the 22nd here and I (22M) have been awake since 12pm Sunday for what I think makes almost 62 hours. I want to list a few observations
For context this obviously wasn't the desired outcome. I’m an Architecture student in Australia and have an assignment due Thursday night and I had barely started. I’ve been fueling this exercise in what now feels like self torture with, and do your best not to judge me:
-Food. Sort of. On Sunday I ate approx 300 kcal of leftover pasta. Monday was a big one. Unfortunately I did forget to eat all day so it was a single godly meal centering on the divine Large Zinger Box. This was paired with 3 wicked wings, a maxi popcorn chicken, a supercharged slider, and a pepper mayo slider. No idea the calories but well and truly a “feel like absolute shit” quantity. Tuesday I had 2 baos, a far cry from the prior binge but havent had any desire to eat
-A steady supply of (prescribed) ritalin, starting with 40mg at the beginning of a dedicated study session and an additional 20mg every 3 hours to account for the half-life.
I estimate I’ve munched down on about 300ish mg so far :(
-Caffeine. Far too many monster mango locos, monster zero ultras, and cans of red bull. A simply exquisite ritalin pairing that I could not recommend more, provided you want a couple of your primary senses, and what feels like new ones all together, to gain the ability to scream at you with each rapidly quickening heartbeat.
-Pure delusion and stupidity with a helping hand from the sunk cost fallacy
Now The Issues!!
-okay the biggest thing is paranoia. At almost all times I can see movement just in the corner of my peripheral vision. Any small noises become an immediate spike of dread. I'm sitting in my uni commons room completely alone and don’t really feel safe (i know i am)(probably). I fear they notice me seeing them and hide really quickly. Will need to investigate further.
-Lack of ability to think/plan. I just spent a good 3 minutes trying to plan how I would walk out of this building. None of the routes made more sense than another and I couldn't mentally envision myself moving at all so they seemed equally good and worth re-pondering to get to the bottom of this dire conundrum. I should also add that I had no intention of standing, let alone going anywhere, it was just to see if I could, then I got lost in it until I realised I'd been staring at the wall for far too long. I'm also realising I can't conjure any mental images up either. Really cool for the drawing part of this assignment where I can't think of what I'm going to draw.
-I just zone out mid-thought and forget what I was thinking about. To be fair I'm like that normally with ADHD too, but I feel like my head’s a colander and my, obviously revolutionary, thoughts are that sweet sweet starchy pasta water flooding out.
-Big jitters, earthquakes in the palms of my hands. Surgery patients fear me and Jazz pianists want to be me. (currently listening to Ryo Fukui’s - scenery, incredible jazz album)
-Not a single thought of value
-Positives however… not looking nearly as dishevelled as I should be. Don't get me wrong, my body's a mess. I’m pissing constantly. Each one a new hue between a radiant yellow and a tasteful sage green, every muscle and joint aching… you just read it you know it’s not good, BUT,, Hair’s sitting kinda nice, eye bags are hardly there, skins not looking too bad. Overall I'd say a visual improvement.
In conclusion, I spent an hour writing this because I couldn't slam two brain cells together to save my degree. I fear if i wrote “to save my life” some subconscious force would keep them apart just to end this. I might even support the cause at this point. My now 63 consecutive wakefull hours have gleaned me an abundance of sweet fuck all. I truly believe the pitiful collection of sub-par work I slapped together could have been done in a day or so of being rested. And NOT ONCE did that fucker in the corner of my eye offer to help. I will be surprised if it's finished in time. I’m expecting the worst :)
TL;DR
I’ve been awake for over 60 hours to work on a uni assignment. Have done less than I would have had I not. My once throbbing juicy brain is a mere paste pooling at the base of my skull. I fear failure is unavoidable and the consequences of my hubris lasting.
I (25f) matched with this guy (29m) on hinge maybe a year or so ago. I was in an on and off again relationship and didn't really get to talk to him as much at first. We followed each other on Instagram and said a few things and the convo ended - but we stayed following each other.
Fast forward to December 2022. He posts a pic of him on vacation via Instagram. I'm single and thought it would be a good time to comment heart eyes on his photo. He rather quickly DM'd me and i wasn't super interactive in the convo (I had a lot going on with holidays and also ended up getting covid for 2 weeks). No worries!! Valentine's week comes around and he messages me again. This time I was excited because i was finally freeing up some time to give him more attention.
This time we chatted every day until I got his phone number. We would text and chat and I would call him every now and then. I was happy getting to know him. What was shitty is that 5 months before we started chatting, he moved 3 hours away to another city. It felt like we almost missed our shot.. but we still talked. We both wore our hearts on our sleeves a bit and I thought I was finding a guy i could really emotionally invest in. He seemed mature, put together, and self-confident (and really into me). The only issue I would say is that all of his friends were settling down except him and I would often say "yea sounds like what would happen nearing your 30s". He wasn't sure about settling down either and often spoke about how his relationships didn't last more than 2 months. But he didn't sound opposed to a relationship - just didn't find the right one.
We both are in the same career field and although I'm younger - I had a lot of experience he didn't have and he was even impressed when I would discuss work. He often would compliment anything I did and spoke about me as if he thought highly of me. I felt appreciated and respected. I literally never met someone so good.
We continue talking every day until he mentions he was coming back to the city in March to visit his parents. I was ECSTATIC! The only issue was that the one day he invited me to his work party, I would be out of town for a concert. He planned to stay a week though and we planned around his schedule and daily dinners with his family. He was really busy the whole trip but we made some time to work and i was more than happy to finally meet him IRL.
The Monday of the concert Im driving back into town asking if i could stop by and visit since i was coming earlier than expected. He was extremely drunk and at first was flirting but when i said I would actually come thru he swiftly changed his mind. i left him on read because (thoughts going awry) had the idea he might've been going with someone he drunkenly met that night. Instead he later calls me multiple times extremely drunk to tell me he was back at the hotel and he's okay and not to worry about him. I thought it was sweet how he thought of me and stopped being upset with him. However, he proceeded to be extremely self-deprecating. This was a complete 180 from the person I've been talking to for a little more than a month now. He talked about how he was a shitty person and was extremely depressed and that i deserved more or better. I told him that he's been an absolute doll ever since chatting and I wasn't worried about any of that stuff. He proceeded to tell me he's terrible and that I'm perfect. I have everything a man would want and that i could have anyone I wanted. I was put on a pedestal.
This was a red flag for me and made me feel unsafe about the amount of time he was going to stay in my life. I only just met this man, he was absolutely perfect and now he's looking like hes about to run. We hadn't even gone on our first date yet and my hopes of meeting him were dwindling. He was super sweet to me during the call and we let each other go to sleep. the next morning, he remembers nothing. Hes apologetic for bothering me and i reassure him that everything is okay - but I'm worried about some of the things he said.
He assures me we will go on our date. and on the date hes back to "normal". a little embarrassed about the calls but I'm super into him and reassure him that as long as we communicate everything is okay. He knows he can be a lot when he drinks that much and has lost a lot of friendships because of it. The past is the past and he said he hadn't been so self-deprecating in years. We're chatting and cozy and everything feels great. I really like him. We go back to my place and things get really intimate. We're almost done (I'm on top) and i look at him and his face is full of panic. I quickly jump off of him and apologize and ask him what happened. I turn my focus 100% onto him and forget everything we were doing in the moment. He begins to express his anxiety about sex and finishing inside and I immediately apologize thinking i might have forced him or something (sorry I'm so bad at explaining this). We have a conversation and things calm down and I'm understanding of his feelings and he tells me I didn't do anything wrong. Were cozy but he has to leave back to his Parents.
The next day were chatting and he thanks me for being so understanding and that it means a lot to him. I said of course - we've only just met so there's a lot to learn and I'm happy. BUT HERES WHERE THINGS GO SOUTH. were chatting about the night and he mentions me taking the pill. I said 'oh wait.. did u finish?" I was so overwhelmed by the situation I completely thought i shut things down before it happened. But i misinterpreted our convo and apparently, he felt that way after. I immediately apologized and took the pill when things were cleared up. However, things got weird. He made kind of a big deal about me not understanding or even feeling that he did. and I just said in the heat of the moment i mean I simply thought we stopped. We stop talking for the rest of the day because hes very put off by the situation and i take a break because i have really bad anxious attachment style and some abandonment issues so i needed to take a moment to myself to not take his reaction to heart.
I message the next day but hes being weird. hes not replying as much and kinda telling me hes going to give me a call when he gets back home. Im having anxiety like wtf just happened. a few days go and I message him "can we talk, things have been really weird" he said he can talk when hes free and we later call that evening. He begins to explain that he doesn't understand how i didn't realize he finished after the conversation and doesn't feel like he can continue a romantic relationship with me. This really disappoints me but i try not to fight it. I personally felt like this was something we can communicate and work through but apparently its a non negotiable on his end. He proceeds to talk about how his life is also going to change for the next 5 years due to some family stuff and hes just also down about that and put what happened with me on top - he just cant do it all.
we agree to just end it there. I didn't fight or argue with him - I was just confused. how did someone so kind and understanding and communicative just turn cold the moment we had an actual miscommunication?
TL/DR: I spent a month talking and getting close to a guy who was extremely kind, communicative, and a great listener. But when we finally met irl and had our first date, some miscommunication happened and he dropped me (even tho we both said it was no ones fault). I am so confused someone please help me understand this man loollol.
Dr Doom’s home country of the Kingdom of Latveria is a highly advanced utopia as their totalitarian ruler, Doom, brings futuristic technology and scientific advancement to the nation. However, in almost every depiction, it looks extremely medieval in appearance.
Doom lives in a gothic Neuschwanstein-looking castle and the cities look like a small medieval German town. How does he maintain such an aesthetic if he is trying to develop the country? Do the buildings look futuristic on the inside or are the interiors the same? How much would it cost to make a city in a modern country (e.g. Chicago or London) look like this?
LVMPD Traffic Alert ACCIDENT (TRAFFIC) E HARMON AVE and UNIVERSITY CENTER DR 3/21/2023 9:26:46 AM incident #LLV230300089850