Clorox xtra blue tablets

[Help] Can't increase pH levels. All the rest seems fine!

2023.06.08 14:34 carlitooo93 [Help] Can't increase pH levels. All the rest seems fine!

Hello!
First, please excuse my poor English since this topic is quite technical.
We bought a house this year with a small above ground pool with a volume of water of 11m3. It is equipped with a sand filter and a pump of course.
My issue is: I cannot increase pH level despite my many tries!
I've read here about other people having the same issue but the advice they're given is to first increase alkalinity ? Mine is pretty high already so I'm not sure what else could be wrong.
Quick summary of what I did since I reopened the pool 1 month ago: Please note that at the very beginning, all tests levels were at 0 (chlorine, alkalinity, stabilizer) or super low (pH).
1) It keep a chlore tablet continuously in the skimmer, and filtration is active for 12-14 hours a day (if not more).
2) I poured some pH+ product (1,1kgs since I have 11m3 of water to treat). It's a kind of powder that I first have to mix in a water bucket. This seem to have increased levels of Alkalinity and Stabilizer, but no effect on pH.
3) I poured some more pH+ product (600g this time). Also increased Alkalinity and Stabilizer, but no effect on pH.
4) Did a shock chlore treatment (11 small tabs that I put in the skimmer), did not change anything really ?

5) Poured again pH+ product (around 1kg).

Now the Alkalinity and Stabilizer are super high but pH and Chlorine remain at 0/low. Here is a picture of a test I just ran:

https://preview.redd.it/tbh0bujnfs4b1.jpg?width=2016&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=35fe5c93e758e917e313e3e7f97c91697eae0211
- pH: between 6.2/6.8 - Chlorine: 0 - Alkalinity: 240 - Stabilizer: 100 (picture does not show properly)

I do not know what else I can try. Should I pour some more pH+ product ? I dont want to increase anymore the bottom 2 levels ?
Any suggestions ?

ps: water is clear and blue, around 26 degrees C. pH is the only thing to fix before I can enjoy it! :)

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2023.06.08 10:34 Lottynaught Doctor prescribe wrong medicine and makes partner go psychotic?

My partner is 19FTM 5”5 160lbs no testosterone no ftm medicine currently. They went to the doctor two days ago. I was getting live updates of what the doctor said and I did confirming it with my partner. Currently he would be the one posting on here but he is not coherent enough to be texting currently and I got his permission to do this. While he tried to nap this off to smooth our fears. So I am texting on his behalf. my partner went in for a suspected hernia because I did notice a lump in their stomach. Before going in I was worried it maybe strangled because of the pain complaint so i softly massaged it back into the abdomen. As soon as I felt a little pop of it going back in pain seem to dissipate a little bit but still went to their primary physician. Doctor said it wasn’t a hernia that it was tissue sticking out of the weak part through the muscles which right there already made me baffled. I told my partner to ask more questions, and he didn’t get very far with that. Whatever we trust the doctor and that’s where I screwed up my partner mentioned having headaches so the doctor prescribed 25mg of topiramate. OK I know it’s an anticonvulsant usually used for seizures and offsetting migraines. That’s OK. The doctor said it was to help with his MDD with psychotic tendencies mood swings and their migraines. Odd never heard of it being prescribed that way, but I just assumed it was off script (but was never informed of that). Seeing as a doctor did not mention any major side effects or concerns when my partner asked about it we assumed that it was a relatively safe medicine although I did have my worries because I did vaguely remember hearing that it could cause memory loss and my partner already kind of suffers from memory loss, (I listen to doctor podcast and medical case studies for fun so I knew of it but not really) no diagnosis on it just random symptoms that they have including memory loss suspected PCOS but not confirmed just listing out these just in case it may help but that is not why the medication was prescribed. Well the doctor told him to take it when they felt a migraine coming on and then if it didn’t work take it two hours later again OK well I go and buy my partners medicine for them you know trying to be nice and it says take one tablet by mouth for two weeks, then increase to take one tablet by mouth twice a day Odd, but seeing as the doctor gave very precise instructions, they went based off the doctors instructions and took one waited 2 hours took another one and went to sleep easy Peezy no problem may be a bit of odd mood swings but not much. Until they took it today on my birthday I mention it’s my birthday so you understand that I’ve been with my partner since the beginning of this day he was awake all day and active in celebration which is till now 3:33 AM. And also let me warn you that the only warning on this bottle says may cause drowsiness, dizziness, alcohol and marijuana may intensify this effect. (They don’t smoke pot and drink alcohol rarely and never very drunk drinking more of a like the flavor so sip sip done drinking). Use care when operating a vehicle vessel, boat, or machinery, and the piece of paper that came with the medicine bag doesn’t give any information it says that we are suppose to get a pamphlet. We never got a pamphlet, nor was it offered and the Hyppa agreement was never signed either at the bottom of that paper. Real odd because I did a little bit of digging and knowing that this medicine has a lot more side effects and had a lot more warnings on the Internet if I had only known, there were so many more that I did not know my partner went from a sweet may be a little bit of an airhead reserved respectable man and into what seemed to be a drunken hysterical psychotic person, switching from high to low to numb back to high. Constantly sweating and sprinting everywhere. Grabbing onto me aggressively then suddenly dead panning away. They seem to want to end it all because they laughed at a fart joke and said that they shouldn’t have laughed at such a horrible joke, which, in my opinion it wasn’t and then started degrading themselves viciously. They then started to profusely, just sob, and then static then stop again and then hysterical, manic laughter. And my partner has only had two episodes ever that were like (which were Lows where they just quiet cried and once screamed at the sky ) this and they were brought on by high intensity stress. Now that the medicine has started to wear off, they admitted to me that they were not stressed about my birthday or anything, when this suddenly struck. They also had a almost impossible time differentiating between reality in their delusions, and they have never ever ever had a problem of disorienting between reality and delusions. They also seemed to suddenly have picked up OCD tendencies out of nowhere having this extreme, strong, intense urge to find exactly replica cans of some kind of drink that we were getting, and I don’t mean the same color in size I mean, no dents, facing forward in the same aisle within the same conformed group same brand, same name, same texture And I can tell you my partner is the least OCD person I have ever met and this is coming from someone with OCD. They will dump all their colors. They will sleep with Mitch matched blankets and they cannot understand why I lock the door three times over so it’s not like they had OCD and it just suddenly came out like peekaboo. They also suddenly had the hardest time peeing. We thought it was a UTI because recently they had taken a UTI test because they couldn’t P but nothing as we delve deeper into possible side effects all of these a line with side effects from this medicine, some common some rare, but just all of a sudden they were showing OCD tendencies they were sounding like they were drunk I made him do it stroke test the past fine besides the slurred speech they were stumbling around they were unable to stand upright even for a moment. They were having high low, numb, high low, numb cycles that even I cant keep up with in that were way beyond his usual. They became 20,000 times more degrading and suicidal. Their delusions were impossible to tell from reality. They’re eyes suddenly became incredibly dilated to where I could only see a sliver of the blue. I’m sorry if I’m missing some details I’ll edit them in but like I said it is 3:30 AM and I am just watching my husband sleep because I am so terrified he won’t go to the ER. He won’t go to the hospital and I will be assisting him in calling his doctor tomorrow when this medicine has worn off by then.
My question is what is this drug? What is it meant for mostly? What are the worst symptoms possible for it and if possibly allowed on the sub, Reddit do normal doctors prescribe this like a normal basis because it seems pretty dangerous to me? I will admit the doctor did not disclose any of the side effects even when I asked if this was a routine, drug and stuff like that. also, I looked through the rules but my brain is so scattered from the events of today that I may have overlooked one if I broke any rules I’m so sorry.

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2023.06.08 09:06 Heon_X [PC] [H] Rocket Pass 16 Items & Fan Rewards [W] 1:10c / 1:2 NCRs / 3:1 NCVR (if not specified)

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2023.06.08 07:34 CyberPolack No Bromine reading in test kit

I have a Jacuzzi J-300 that I purchased about a year ago. I finally got around to draining it since the chemicals in the hot tub were becoming very unbalanced and it had kind of a musty smell.
After draining it, I crushed up some Clorox bromine tablets and put it in my floater but i’m still not getting a reading after several days. I have a non-chlorine shock oxidizer, so I was thinking about using that but wanted to see if you all had any recommendations.
Also would like to note that I tested the hot tub after filling it, and everything is balanced besides the chlorine/bromine reading which was at 0.

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2023.06.08 05:32 peachykeen1284 The Griffin Tower and where not to go -6 Kisetsu 1 AA

Just west of Celeste's Hunting Lodge
Sloth as Dagdomear Okapi Zalitai; Taleek as Cyrek The Juggler; Seraphina as "Replaceable" Verônica Rocha Beleza; Hazel as Iris Finn Okpara
Blessings: Iris- Blessing of the Mouse - silky ears Cyrek- mark of the darkest deep- milky white eyes "Replaceable" Verônica - bloodmark (Reginae) - double headed eagle on thigh Dag- mark of the ancient air - “kiss” mark on left temple
Day 1 We arrived at Celeste's Hunting Lodge and Swore the oath for awakening guild. Celeste introduced us to the map stone. After a Quick drink Celeste's we headed out to west to explore. After traveling roughly 3 miles we came across a Staircase covered in moss with an ominous presence. We continued on to travel another 3 miles and proceeded to Stumble upon a a ruined tower with a Spider and a Bird creature (griffin) fighting. The spider steals an egg from the birbs nest so we decided to help the Griffin by fighting the Spider. After we defeat the large spider and I Gallantly offered the egg back to Griffin, it takes it back and returns to its nest. I inspect the spider corpse and collect Silk from spider. Cyrek's harvests the spider for meat that We offer the griffon and use that as a distraction in order to collect a Dagger that Dag could see hiding under some skeletons. the Dagger is decorated with a wolf head on the hilt (with an open mouth with no teeth) that's shaped like a wolf's tooth and is Made of high quality silver. Dag says there is a spooky person shape coming from inside the griffin, like someone was swallowed whole. So we decided to move on. We traveled 3 more miles and Camped down for the night.
Day 2 We travel 3 miles, and Find ourselves in an overwhelming Mist, and find a rickety bridge crossing over a small stream that leads to a Graveyard. We cautiously head in and read a couple gravestones, they are primarily Faun Family. A large bug-like creature appears and attacks "Replaceable", we run and I throw a dagger and hit it in the face. As we run, it teleported behind us and paralyzed me, Dag dragged me to safety and "Replaceable" defended us as Cyrek untied our steeds. After we cleared the area and felt safe again, We climbed trees and to attempt to perceive our surroundings- we saw that there are Mountains to the Southwest with a large building on them roughly 30-40 miles away as well as the bones of a massive creature. The Big tree we were looking for is roughly 30-50 miles from the coast and Ten miles southwest is a strange tree that is blue and showing off light, according to Dag. We decide to Head back toward the coast. We travel 2 miles we find a colony of bees. After traveling 3 miles, we gather water from near the Griffon tower, while the griffon is not home. While we're there we see a Strange looking Beetle climbing strange trees with odd fruit. We watch as tree kills beetle. We name the Vine on which the fruit is attached the “Snatchers Vine” and the “Snatchers berry” as it snatched the life from that beetle. We travel a bit further and set up camp for the Night. A Storm rolls in during Cyrek's watch and a small lead tablet with a small rusted iron nail shows up. Cyrek unravels the tablet, and gets really awkward about whatever it said. As the Hurricane rolls in, we back track to the griffon tower to take shelter with the Griffin and a herd of deer.
Day 3-5 I attempt to befriend the deer, and some bees and monkeys joined us in taking shelter for the next two days.
Day 6 We fill our waterskins and collect some snatcher berries that have fallen, these berries are exceedingly delicious. We see the Monkeys head north east of griffin tower. One of the deer stays with me. I name him Sven- he is a young adult male. We travel 3 miles and come across some tracks from hunters going east- southeast and see a a giant ape (gorilla) Coming from the south. After traveling the last 3 miles, we find more snatchers vine near Celeste's hunting lodge. Upon our return to Celeste's Hunting lodge, we reported our findings to Celeste and I got to Keep the Wolf tooth Dagger!
Respectfully, Iris Finn Okpara

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2023.06.08 05:08 No-Ambition6110 Did I screw up by not flushing first?

Used these for the first time, I didn’t flush before dropping it in. I was confused with #4 saying not to flush for 10mins and thought it meant to drop it in and wait to flush. Re-reading it says to flush and drop it in when the water level is low then wait 10 mins to flush again I’m guessing.
Did I mess the toilet up?? Is this a big screw up and do I need to take steps to remedy this? If so, what? TIA!!

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2023.06.08 04:57 ItzMichaelHD When do I unlock social ID?

Hi, I was wondering how far into the game do I unlock social ID and the ability to see other players isles? I haven’t got it the blue tablet that will apparently be there yet. Thanks.

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2023.06.07 23:38 Thirsha_42 Tight Money Ch 16

Here is chapter 16 of Tight Money.
Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the universe and allowing fan writers to join the fun.
Additional thanks to u/BiasMushroom, u/YakiTapioca, u/cruisingNW, u/SavingsSyllabub7788, u/YaaliAnnar, u/White_Dragon_Coranth, u/Illwood and u/Redundant-Honse for letting me use elements from their fanfics in mine.
Thanks to u/Zyrian150, u/Saint-Andros, and u/Eager_Question for proofreading this chapter.
Today, I have 3 character updates for you. We get to see good things happen to Leena and Dani and we get another update on what Niit is up to as well as revisiting some old characters and introducing a new one. This chapter was my first in collaboration with u/Eager_Question. We are doing a crossover for the next few chapters of Tight Money. A huge thanks to them for entirely changing the trajectory of my plans for Niit and Leena. I'm excited for where this is going.
I love your comments so please tell me what you think so I can get better or if you have suggestions for future snippets of life on Venlil Prime you would like to see me cover, leave it in the comments.
First Previous
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memory transcription subject: Leena, Human Refugee Host
Date [standardized human time]: November 7, 2136
The smell of delectable food woke me up before my alarm – a sweet scent with a hint of roasted vegetables. My stomach demanded a meal, and glancing at the clock, I could see that I had some time before the twins would wake. Eagerly walking to the kitchen, I saw Dani had placed out all manner of items on the counter. She stood in front of her ‘hot plate,’ stirring a steaming pot that emanated the delightful aroma.
“Good morning, sleepy head!”
“Good waking, Dani. What are you up to with all those fruits and jars?”
“Well, you remember how I told you I was going to make some chalk for the neighborhood kids? That’s what I am doing right now – I'm making colored chalk! It's a fun DIY project. You see…”
“That did not translate correctly. The translator said, ‘letters of the English alphabet ask for clarification.’”
“Oh, it is an acronym that stands for the English words, ‘do it yourself.’ A lot of humans are pretty handy and have the skills to make the things that most people buy from a store. Sometimes they make things to save money, some do it for the challenge to see if they can, some do it because they want to customize something, and a lot of people do it because they enjoy doing it.”
“Like you said at our meal, this last paw.”
“Yeah! First, I slice up these fruits and vegetables into thin slices and boil them in water for [10 minutes]. The boiling process helps extract the natural pigments from the foods. Once I've boiled the fruits, I strain the colored water and keep it aside.”
Dani reached for a strainer and gently poured the steaming water into another pot and put that on the ‘hot plate.’ She set the slices of fire fruit on a plate and took a tentative bite out of a slice. I followed suit and to my delight, the fruit had a new mellower flavor with a hint of sweetness. Looking over the counter while I snacked on the boiled slices of Firefruit I got a better look at the jars of colored water and a few with colored powders.
“Okay, I'm following so far,” I pointed to one of the powder jars. “What are the powders for?”
“I’m doing an experiment. I want to see if I can use the pigment water as is or if I have to bake it to remove even more of the moisture in order to get a good color. I’ve never used these vegetables before so I need to do some trial and error to get this right.”
Dani had received a small strayu forge a few days ago in the mail and was putting it to good use making all manner of things except strayu. Honestly, I had no idea you could do anything else with them. Humans think of the strangest things. The forge dinged alerting her that it was done with whatever it was doing. She pulled out a tray of shriveled up Firefruit slices and transferred them to an empty plate. Dani laid several more fresh Firefruit slices on the trays and began the process anew.
“Dehydrated slices make wonderful snacks. Now, I take plaster,” Dani scooped some white powder into a cheap plastic bowl and poured in two scoops of the colored water, “and mix it with the colored water we obtained earlier. The plaster acts as a base and helps give the chalk a solid form.”
“Dani, that's so clever! So, the colored water gives the plaster its colors?”
“Exactly! The colored water mixes with the plaster, and we end up with a mixture that has the desired colors. Oh, and while I'm doing this, I'm also pouring the mixture into these silicone molds.”
I watched as Dani mixed the blue water and white powder until it turned into a light blue soup. Dani poured the liquid into the cavities of the flexible trays and scrunched up her face the way she did when she was unhappy or thinking.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, it is supposed to be a much deeper blue than this. I think I’ll have to find something else to make a better dye or try the powder method. Oh well, live and learn.”
Dani began to clean up just as my alarm went off, informing me that I needed to get the children ready and fed. When I came out of my room after feeding the twins and grooming their fur, Dani had finished cleaning the counter and sitting on the couch browsing on her tablet. She looked up as I sat down.
“You get your cast off today right?”
Peering at the clock on her tablet, “Yes, my appointment is in quarter a claw at the out-patient recovery facility. It is only a short ride away. Would you?” I passed the twins to Dani before I stood. “I need to get ready.”
“Come here little babies, let's play hide and peek-a-boo.”
A quick shower later and I returned to find Dani loading the twins into the stroller; still talking to them in her higher pitch and smiling. Nothing out of the ordinary about that but what was out of the ordinary was that Vissa and Tas were also showing their teeth. Not quite a smile but not for lack of trying. I wasn’t sure what to say about that. I didn’t want Dani to stop smiling at Vissa and Tas but that behavior worried me.
“Okay, we’re ready.” Dani reached in and tickled my children. When they were done laughing they ceased to show their teeth much to my relief.
“Dani, when I get the cast off and return this scooter, is there anything you would like to do? I would rather not go back home and sit down once I can walk again.”
Dani’s eyes sparkled at my suggestion. “I would love to see some of your museums and I read about these places where people can make communal art. Could you show me one of those?”
“I would love to.” I’m glad I can do something nice for you, after all you have done for me.

Memory transcription subject: Niit, Capitol Spaceport Logistics Coordinator
Date [standardized human time]: November 9, 2136
I was fortunate. Only three claws after I was fired from the spaceport a new job presented itself. It was a temporary job but it would give me time to find something permanent and help my job history. Getting fired looked worse than the contract ending. They had advertised that they needed someone to come in and finish a new facility. I wondered what happened to the last coordinator. I sent in my application, trying to highlight that I had some experience in procuring building materials for the maintenance of the spaceport hangars.
I was given an interview time for the following paw. That didn’t give me much time to prepare and the place was a bit out of the way. I had to take the train out to the outer ring of the Capital and then walk [20 minutes] more but at least it was easy to find; I could hear the construction a [kilometer] away. A yotul was outside watching the construction crews, obviously impressed with the advanced construction equipment.
“Excuse me,” I tried to be respectful and not shout, “could you direct me to the project manager's office?”
The yotul looked at me and then pointed to a series of temporary buildings in the distance.
“The furthest of the temporary dwellings on the right," he said, "it has a label on the door.”
“Thank you.” I waved my tail goodbye.
I walked over to the white construction shelter the yotul indicated and raised my paw to knock when the door slid open and a large, dark gray venlil appeared in the doorway. I froze in surprise as he looked me up and down with his left eye.
“Are you Niit?”
“Y-y…” I flicked my ear in affirmation.
“Come in.”
The gray venlil stepped inside and motioned to a swivel chair opposite a desk near the door. I took the seat opposite him at the desk and he opened a file with my application on his datapad. The office was a mess of binders, tools, and open cases of energy snacks and drinks; I assumed for the crew. A large map of the block hung on the wall.
"You can call me Foreman Apec or just Foreman is fine too. I'm so glad you could come on such short notice, this project is rather urgent and our last coordinator was poached by one of those ghastly flesh factories they're building now."
The very mention of those atrocious places nearly caused me to lose my lunch. “I-I’m so sorry to hear that. Well, I can guarantee you that I will not be leaving to work in such a place.”
"That's wonderful to hear. Tell me more about your experience, how comfortable are you handling tight schedules?"
“Oh, very, when I worked at the Capital Spaceport I had to manage several tight repair schedules regularly.” I hope he didn’t call Director Cass. I doubt he would give me a positive reference.
"Wonderful to hear. Like I said, we're rather in a rush to get this all done as soon as we can. The good news is that human laborers can work for two, sometimes three claws a shift, so we should be able to manage."
He stated that so nonchalantly, waving his tail around like it wasn’t the most ludicrous thing.
“T-three claws? They can work that long? No,” he’s joking, “You are pulling my ear. There’s no way anyone can work that long.”
Foreman Apec leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"I could scarcely believe it myself! Between you and me, I believe they're what you'd call persistence predators, but they're all hush hush about such things, you know. Anyhow,” he sat back and resumed the interview questions. “You mentioned repairs–I assume for starships-- do you have any experience with buildings?"
Persistence predators? I’ll have to look that up later, focus!
“Some, yes. I managed the construction of hangars 17 and 18 two [years] ago and the repairs to some of the buildings when debris fell after the successful defense against the arxur earlier this [year].”
"Fantastic! And, of course, while the position does not require you to interact with many humans, it'll likely come up due to the nature of the project. Are you comfortable with that?"
“I’ll manage.” It’s only temporary and I have my secret weapon now. Let's see them crawl inside me now. Ha!
"You should be fine. Older fellows like myself seem to struggle much more than youngsters like you, and I have my first meal with a human every paw now! I'm afraid the compensation on the ad is as high as we can go due to the budget, is that also alright?"
He flicked his tail apologetically.
“Yes, I’m grateful for the opportunity to gain experience in construction and try something other than starship repair.”
"Fantastic. When can you start?"
“I can start immediately, thank you!”
"Well, then you're hired! I'll send you an information package as soon as I can, and you can start at the next claw. As I said, we are quite strapped for time."
I rose, my tail wagged with joy, “I won’t let you down. I’m eager to see what this place will look like when it’s finished.”
"As am I. The whole thing has been mired in secrecy. You'll have to sign an agreement when you accept the contract, it'll be in your information package."
A secrecy agreement? What are the humans building here? “Oh… mysterious.” I tried to wave my tail playfully.
"Yes indeed! We'll be able to talk all about it once you sign on officially, but suffice it to say that the building plans are different from any I've ever seen."
The foreman walked around the desk and opened the door to escort me out. As I left, I turned one last time to reply.
“Well, I am eager to talk with you about it next claw.”
"Wonderful. Go, read through the package. Rest up. You'll need it."

Memory transcription subject: Krin, Capitol Extermination Officer
Date [standardized human time]: November 9, 2136
Driving to another abandoned home, looking for another poor warto spawn for trespassing. Probably gonna have drugs too; they all do. Rigel was driving the truck and seemed rather quiet, well, more quiet than usual.
“This is wrong, Krin. Evicting someone from an abandoned house just feels wrong.”
Rigel you are naive and too emotional. These people have already left the herd and need to shape up.
“I get where you're comin' from, Rigel, but it's our job. Can't let folks squat in places that ain't theirs.”
We were headed to the poorer part of the city. Clean streets but smaller houses; some no bigger than an apartment. The homes had an artificial feel to them, lacking any sort of wood or stone, just fillcrete walls and plastic doors. The road was getting bumpier with potholes in the rubber asphalt and frayed edges. The paint was nearly gone in some places and sunbleached in others.
“But it's rough out there, Krin. The economy's tanking, folks are losing their jobs, the banks aren’t making allowances…. Is throwing someone out really the answer?
For herd’s sake, “Look, Rigel, I feel for 'em, I do. But ya gotta think bigger. This squattin' stuff leads to more crime, drugs, theft, vandalism, urban decay. Ain't good for nobody. It’s a breeding ground for predator disease.”
“I get that, but it's hard not to sympathize. People are struggling. Maybe we could help them instead of evicting them?”
You want to help them so much, go be a social worker and see how much help you can give these people. Social services were drowning. Everyone knew that but with less revenue from fees and taxes, agencies had to make cuts. Everyone just had to make do.
“Help 'em how? We ain't social workers, Rigel. We got our hands full already and the owners are breathing down our necks when they should've taken care of this mess in the first place!”
“I know, Krin, but it just doesn't sit right with me. Can't help but think there's a better way to handle this.”
“We can't solve all the world's problems, Rigel. Our job is to keep the peace, not save everyone. It's tough, but that's reality.” The simple reality that ain’t so simple anymore, stupid humans.
“I just wish we could do more, you know? Feel like we're caught between a cliff and a shadestalker.”
“Trust me, Rigel, I feel it too. But we can't change the system overnight. Gotta focus on what we can control and do our jobs. Besides, no point thinkin’ about it anymore, we’re here.”
I stopped the car and got out. Officer Rigel checked the front door and it swung open. We entered the house, announcing ourselves as we went, but saw no one. The place was rather clean for a squat. If it wasn’t for the makeshift bed in one of the rooms and the inflatable birthday pool in the bathroom with a stack of towels, we wouldn’t have even known there was a squatter here.
“Looks like we came all this way for nothing.” The frustration in Officer Rigels voice mirrored my own.
The water in this pool was almost gone, the towels were dry and we didn’t find any paraphernalia. Whoever had been here, was long gone.
“Yeah, let's call it in and go back to the office.”
We climbed back into the truck and pulled out of the driveway. As I drove us back to the guild, we passed a disheveled man. Is that our squatter? I slowed the car and looked in the mirror, from behind I could see he was wearing a dirty safety vest and carrying a trash stick. No, he’s not a squatter. Glad I’m not that guy though. Sanitation work is not for me.
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submitted by Thirsha_42 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]

2023.06.07 22:41 Future_Ad_3485 The Night Squad Files Case Zero: The Meeting of Partners

My fingers drummed on the cold steel table in my specialized prison cell, my daily dose of blood having not been sent to me. A dry thirst burned in my throat, my ruby eyes dilating at the vampire in a cheap business suit plopping down across from me. Playing with my amethyst waves, he traced his slender finger along the nape of his neck. His ruby eyes glistened with excitement, his slicked back ivory hair reminded me of everything I hated about the government.
“Pretty hungry, Morticia Deathbite?” He taunted cruelly, hatred burning in my eyes. “I have a deal for you. The government will exonerate you of all your charges if you agree to become my wife for a mission. There is one catch, you have to let me bite you. Oh forgive my manners. I am Agent Stanton Lifewick, a member of Night Squad. The vampires in the program work to hunt down serial killers that the police can’t seem to get. Will you join me?” Growling through gritted teeth, my inky lips curled into a defiant snarl. Spitting in his face, wicked laughter rumbled in his throat.
“You can rot in hell. You guys put me in this jail cell for only drinking the blood of serial killers. Fuck you.” I retorted venomously, his hands wiping away the spit. “You can leave now, you rotten bastard!” Snatching the collar of my orange jumpsuit, he yanked me close to his face. The corner of his lips twitched with fury, a raw tension thickening between us. Shooting daggers into each other's eyes, my elbow slammed into his face. Crashing back, I sprinted out the door. Red light bathed the concrete halls, a shrill alarm blaring in my ears. Unlocking the other criminals on my way out, the distraction would be my way out. Security guards attempted to stop me, one punch smashing them into the wall. A Cheshire Cat grin spread cheek to cheek at the open gate, my bare feet smashing through. Feeling the pale moonlight on my skin pleased me, Stanton called for me to stop. Flipping him off, I leapt into the trees. Hopping from branch to branch, my heart stopped at him blocking my path. Straightening up, claws extended from my black fingernails. Cracking my neck, he pulled out a gun with holy water soaked wooden bullets.
“I can’t let you escape.” He snapped hotly, a bead of sweat dripping off of his brow. “Join me now or I’ll shoot you.” Putting my hands up in the air as a dare, maniacal laughter burst from my lips. Shrugging my shoulders, he watched me crack my fingers one by one. Leaning forward, something was stopping him. My face fell at the sound of guns clicking underneath me, the sheer amount of agents scaring me. Placing my hands behind my back, my claws receded back into their place.
“Just take me back so I can fucking die.” I grumbled under my breath, Stanton putting his gun away. Leaping closer to me, even my speed wouldn’t allow me to dodge all of their bullets. Standing behind me, his fangs grazed the nape of my neck. His hot breath bathed my neck, the agents’ fingers all ready to shoot me. Too many black suits, I thought irritably to myself. Freedom and blood was all I desired, the bastards stripping both from me.
“Just fucking say yes, you idiot!” He growled huskily in my ear, his hand sliding down the small of my waist. “You get freedom and all the blood you need from me.” His invisible strength threatened to break my back, my body trembling in his hold. Something about it dulled my hatred for him. Concern flashed in his eyes for a moment, tears welling up in my eyes. Peeking into his soul, a white aura surrounded him. Bowing my head in shame, my bangs hid my eyes. Live a life alone in prison or experience life again? Did the world hate me as much as I hated it?
“Fine.” I uttered in with defeat, a sickening dread bubbling in my gut. “You win but you better treat me like one of you. I refuse to be a slave and a prisoner.” Sinking his fangs into my neck, the disgusting sound of him drinking my blood drowned out the agents putting their guns back. Inky bats flew across my breasts, a solid black band forming on his finger. An indescribable bond formed between us, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. This contract reminded me of how my first master used me to kill innocent people for defying the church, his gentle touch scaring me out of my trance.
“Are you okay?” He whispered kindly in my ear, the sudden shift in his personality ringing the alarm bells. “I am going to get you to the car and we will sign a marriage contract to get our license. I don’t bite. Well, unless I have to. I am aware you have been alive since medieval times so the concept of living off your mate’s blood is new. It actually makes you ten times stronger. Imagine that power coursing through you.” Tossing me over his shoulder, he jumped off the branch.
“Operation Get Hitched is a success!” He announced with a warm smile, a tender blush rising to my cheeks. “Go home to your families.” Carrying me to the car, my waves bounced up and down with every step. Sitting me down in the passenger seat of a generic black armored SUV, my hair blew back as he slammed the door shut. Sliding into his seat, he pulled out a pile of papers from the center console. Passing me the pile, I knew the drill. Signing on the dotted lines, a knock stole his breath away. Rolling down the window, a fellow agent stamped the paper. Dropping two velvet boxes into my lap, the papers fluttered in the other agent’s hands. Closing his window, he held my hand up. Opening up the closest box to him, he slid on an onyx band of twisted branches. Grasping the remaining box, my jaw dropped at the matching band. Sliding on his finger shakily, surprise rounded his eyes. Thorns dug into my fingers, his face showing the same fate for him. Sniffing the ring, it reeked of an eternal curse. Fantastic, we were bound together forever.
“Can I ask you a question?” I choked out awkwardly, a warm gaze falling on me. “Why me? I am not the only vampire there. I can think of s-” Putting his finger up in the air, the ring glittered in the pale moonlight. Grabbing my shoulder, any cockiness he had was gone. It almost seemed to be a mask in front of the boys, his private personality seeming naturally sweet.
“I picked you because I saw your beautiful face in a pile of files. Also you are the oldest vampire alive, so that helped. I find you rather amazing. I don’t agree with you killing all those serial killers but you had to eat. Am I right?” He mused tenderly, is crooked grin stopped time as the urge to kiss him dominated my mind. “How about you drink something? I had them starve you for a couple of days. I am sorry about that.” Guiding my head to the nape of his neck, his vein throbbed violently. Biting him now would seal the deal from my side, the scent of a summer day wafted up my nose. Piercing his tender flesh, my pupils enlarged at the first sip, the sweet taste of lemonade coated my throat. Wrapping my arms around his neck, short gasps poured from his lips. Drinking my fill, a satisfied sigh flowed freely from me. He was right, your mate’s blood tasted like nothing else. Scarlet blood stained the corner of his lips, my hands cupping his face. Pressing my lips against his sensually, his arm slid down to the small of my waist. Refusing to let me go, his tongue danced in my mouth. Time stopped, our heartbeats were all I could hear. Releasing him from the spell, he sat back in a daze with a goofy grin. Scarlet burned his cheeks, my impulsive behavior having landed me in some hot water for sure.
“Sorry for that.” I apologized profusely, hoping that he wouldn’t hate me for acting on my inner thoughts. “I get a little impu-” Kissing me back with twice as much passion, my body arched towards him. The seat belt was the only thing that held me back, his heart beating faster than mine. Another knock interrupted him, a flustered Stanton rolled the window down.
“What!” He yelled sharply, the ivory haired female’s ruby eyes flitting between me and him. “Selena, you need to give your older brother privacy.” Her petite five two figure didn’t scream power but boy did her intense color changing aura. Sticking out her tongue, a deeper scarlet colored his cheeks. Blinking a couple of times, she leaned into the car.
“I am Selena Dogood, his baby sister. You must be the infamous Morticia he never stopped talking about. Honestly, he never shut up.” She teased lightly, her short leather dress fluttering in the breeze. “Would you like to h-” Covering her mouth with his hand, a stern gaze shut her offer down.
“I would but I need to get to the hell I am calling suburbia. You know the reason I married her in the first place. They suspect the serial killer is living in that godforsaken town.” He informed her briskly, cursing under his breath. “I might like her a bit. Do you have her clothes? People are going to stare if I bring her out in a prison jumpsuit.” Dropping a silky emerald dress into his lap, a horrendous flashback of the church dressing me in lingerie for special guests to view haunted me. Horrendous slurs had been carved into my skin, the people throwing rotten tomatoes at me. Clutching my chest, a tight embrace snapped me back to reality. Selena put her hands up into the air, walking back to her own SUV. Kissing the top of my head, the nature of our bond made this moment unbearably sweet. His slender six foot seven frame towered over me by a good foot, thus his embrace felt like Heaven. Shaking my head, I shoved him off. Undoing my seat belt, he turned his back as I peeled off the jumpsuit. Tossing it into the back, I tugged on the sweetheart neckline dress. The silk felt soft against my skin, the material a far better cry from the rough cotton of my previous outfit. The straps failed to cover the number the prison had branded me with, my fingers tracing the faint numbers. Not seeing what I did wrong, the people should have applauded me. Furthermore, I needed to eat.
“You look beautiful.” He commented pleasantly, his eyes falling on the numbers branded on my chest. “They didn’t tell me that they did that to the first vampires in prison. I promise to make your life better. Can you cook?” His question threw me off as the engine roared to life, the trees turning into a sea of houses. Rolling my eyes, most of them were close enough to pass a damn cup of sugar through the bathroom window. The ranches nauseated me further, my heart sinking at the car pulling up to a flamingo pink ranch. My face scrunched in disgust, my eyes falling on a red headed woman with piercing blue eyes. Her curls bounced around her shoulders, her ample cleavage hanging out of a tight tank top. Pouting in my direction, something seemed off about her. Perhaps it was because her aura was darker than the bottom of the ocean. Hopping out to the car, his hand ripped open the car door. Sliding on the shoes, a scowl planted itself on her lips.
“Who’s Shirley Temple across the street?” I inquired softly, his eyes rolling. “She seems to like you.” Rolling his eyes, a wicked grin spread cheek to cheek as he rose to his feet. Pinning me to the car, his lips kissed mine hungrily. Time stopped, the sound of the night fading to the background. Releasing me from his spell, her death glare sent chills up my spine. Lifting my finger, he purposely showed off our wedding rings. Glee glittered in his eyes at her obvious bewilderment, he flipped her off on the way into the house. The outside must have been deceptive because all sorts of taxidermy lined the Victorian style wallpaper, the dark wooden bookshelves were lined with first editions of books. Sitting me down on what was his original emerald velvet couch, my hands rubbing the carved bats on the armrest. Crossing my legs, my eyes fell on the coffin coffee table. Laying down, sweet slumber stole me away.
Snapping awake, a flurry of impatient knocks frightened the shit out of me. The bright sunshine blinded me, a fluke in my DNA allowing me not to burn in the sun. Rushing to the door, the redhead from the night before knocked once more. Opening the door, I leaned on the door frame. Horror rounded her eyes at my porcelain skin and black lips, her perfect ass shoving her way in. Following her into an all black kitchen, she called out Stanley. Cocking my brow in response, a messy haired Stanton wandered into the hall. Defiance glittered in his eyes, my eyes taking in the same emerald wallpaper from the living room now lining the hall.
“You are a cockadoody for your disrespectful behavior from last night.” She complained bitterly, her eyes snapping back to me. “Did you find her on an albino dating site? Why haven’t I seen her?” Rubbing his bare muscular chest, he examined her pristine white dress and black sun hat. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, part of me wishing he wouldn’t slick his hair back anymore. A matching branded set of numbers sat on his chest, curiosity twinkling in my eyes.
“Why don’t you leave, Susie?” He asked politely, popping a white tablet into his mouth. “I need you and your husband to leave me alone today.” Narrowing her eyes in his direction, he motioned towards the door. Something seemed off with her, her aura sickening me. Cupping my mouth, he noticed my reaction to her presence. Not only that, the scent of her blood reminded me of a corpse. Walking up next to her, I pushed Stanton out of the way.
“What is your name?” I demanded viciously, folding my arms across my chest. True love lit up in his eyes for the first time, the crack of her slap stunning me into a temporary silence. Her chest huffed up and down, my crazed grin infuriating her further. Pinning me to the wall, I stole the opportunity to peek into her soul. A shadow blocked me from seeing into it, my face falling.
“I am Susan Smith, the leader of the neighborhood watch. I am watching you. I am a black belt by the way.” She warned icily, my unimpressed expression peeving her off further. “What is so funny?” Knowing that she would charge me if I touched her, I cleared my throat.
“Hello to you then.” I chirped cheerfully, turning on my people-friendly smile. “I think you should go now. I work the night shift and you and your creepy neighborhood watch can go fuck yourself. You can keep your hungry eyes off my husband.” Raising her hand to strike me, I caught it mid slap. Lowering it to her side, my grip on her wrist refused to let her go.
“Whatever. My husband is hotter than yours and the mayor of the town. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole.” She returned haughtily, my fingers letting her go. “We don’t want you Gothic freaks in this perfect little slice of Heaven.” Cocking my brow at her words, it was obvious she liked my husband. A slightly overweight bald man in a pair of khakis and a blue button up shirt stepped out to search for his wife, his chocolate brown eyes falling on us. The name Richard stood out to me, a defiant glow coming over my face.
“He’s hot if slightly overweight and bald with a side of khaki’s is in fashion.” I taunted cruelly, watching her face grow red as the fire hydrant outside. Stomping off, she slammed the door behind her. Dusting off my dress, he pulled me in for a warm embrace. The foot difference made me feel pleasantly small, the feeling of his muscles against my face causing a tender blush to rise to my cheeks. This was an emotion that I haven’t felt in a while, the desire to give in to my nightly urges raged. Pushing him away, I folded my arms across my chest. Hurt dimmed his eyes, his hands running through his hair.
“We don’t have to do any of that until you are ready. We do have to get ready to go to the grocery. I just took my sunblock pill.” He explained happily, turning to walk back into his room. Hugging him from behind, my outcome was to alleviate his hurt. Freezing in his tracks, he spun on his heels. Hiding his wet eyes underneath his hair, he barely responded as I wiped away his tears. Pushing me away, a glass shattered on the worn wooden floor the moment I hit it. Shivering on the floor, I had tried too hard. Rushing into his room, I chased after him.
Fighting the tears, his years in prison had done a number on him. Sliding into the room in the nick of time, he shoved an onyx lace baby doll dress into my arms with a pair of chunky heeled boots. Stomping into the bathroom, he had his outfit hanging off of his arm. Changing quickly, he needed something to cheer him up. Crashing into the kitchen, the bottom of my dress fluttered with each step. Noting the dark roast coffee beans, coffee was the only thing vampires could taste beside blood. Humming to myself, I began the process of making him a latte. Smoothing out my bell sleeves, it was time to add the milk. Pouring the foaming milk into his coffee, he wandered in with a grumpy look on his face. My breath hitched at his black and white striped button up shirt over a pair of black shorts, his worn converses bringing him down to what age we looked like. A silver cross dangled from his left ear, his eyes falling on the apology coffee.
“I am sorry. It has been a long time since someone touched me. It is a tale I will tell you another time. Did you make that for me?” He queried with a tired smile, taking the clear cup in his trembling hands. “Did they teach you how to make this in jail?” Nodding silently, he took a sip. His eyes widened at how tasty it was, the cup was empty in a couple of minutes.
“Are we watching the people at the grocery store?” I questioned shakily, afraid to speak. “Won’t we stand out?” Shaking his head, he ruffled the top of my head. Kissing the top of my head, he offered me his elbow. Hooking mine around his, he guided me out to the car. Helping me in, we were soon heading to the local grocery store. The worn sign flickered against a faded tan facade, the housewives streamed in and out. An irritated Susan rushed past his car.
“We do but I have lived here for months, so they are used to it. If you wore pink it would be more alarming.” He whispered gruffly into my ears, those damn urges coming up again. “Trust me. We are the town freaks anyway with being “albinos”. The air quotes added a sense of humor to the moment, his soft chuckle telling me that he was fine. Helping me out, the wives all waved at him. Jealousy flashed in my eyes, his fingers intertwined with mine. While he received a bunch of smiles, I received death glare after death glare. Bright lights blinded me, the constant conversations caused my ears to pin back. The serial killer could be among these people, the very thought exhilarating.
“This can be a bit much for your first day out of jail. I would have left you at home but our bond won’t allow it.” He assured me sweetly, placing my hands on the cart. Holding me from behind, he rested his chin on my head. Talking for a minute to the butcher, a special symbol on his neck informed me that he was an ally. Susan rolled up next to me, one of her lackeys boxing me in. Leaning on the end of my cart, she cast insult after insult at me. Ignoring her words, a familiar face stole my attention. His wrinkles matched the father’s from back in the medieval times, a pair of sage eyes meeting mine. He smelled human, a Celtic symbol glowed on his neck. Susan waved her hands in front of me, a strained huh escaping my lips. His black priest’s uniform sickened me, clammy sweat soaking my skin.
“Did you hear me!” Susan demanded childishly, holding out an invitation. “This is something we call a book club.” Seconds from crumbling it up, Stanton snatched it from her fingers. Pecking me on the lips, she rolled her eyes in a huff. Father Rowell had disappeared into the crowd, my husband carrying on the conversation for me.
“I have to go to the bathroom!” I blurted out awkwardly, leaping over the carts. Crashing through the people, I skidded to a stop in front of Rowell. Reaching his hand out to me, a bolt of lightning zapped him the moment our skin touched. Clearing his throat, he pointed to the automatic doors.
“Shall we go outside?” He suggested with a sly grin, my ankle failing me at the wrong time. Crashing onto my ass, he snapped his finger. A rotting church towered over us, so many questions rested on the tip of my tongue. One pew remained, the wood groaning as we sat down on it. Why did this feel warmer than before?
“Are you the serial killer, you old man?” I interrogated intensely, his head shaking. Sliding me a Celtic spell book with the proper page open, the spell he was using only required the sacrifice of a lamb. Leaning back, he touched the glowing symbol on his neck. I guess it all added up.
“It’s not me. This damn thing prevents me from killing anyone. I turned it around, I swear. “ He attempted to assure me, my look of disbelief not pleasing him. “I am sorry for using you. You seemed so lost and I was lost by the propaganda they were spreading. The church today is much more honest. I can be a pair of ears for you. Will that help you out?” The church bell rang, the wood quaking underneath my boots, his eyes allowing me to peer into his soul. The white aura was enough to convince me, my hand touching his.
“Besides the killing, you did everything right.” I admitted sheepishly, allowing him to smile subtly. “You found me after one of my bloody massacres and still hid me from the church.” Snow drifted aimlessly, his palm catching a couple of snowflakes. Watching them melt in his palms, he turned to me.
“Do you remember when I found you? Ruby painted the snow but you looked at me with the biggest plea for help. You were but a ten year old child with fangs in my eyes.” He commented in a fatherly tone, both us leaning back to watch the snow fall. Resting our hands on our flat stomachs, he let out a soft chuckle
“I am surprised you helped me after finding out I was the daughter of the first vampire.” I laughed gently, his hand reaching for mine. “I got married yesterday. I am sorry that I went to prison. I must have disappointed you with that tidbit.” Taking my hand, he examined the ring. Snapping his fingers, we were back at the grocery store. Dropping a card into my palm, he shoved his hands into his pocket.
“I came to seek you out. The killer is among your little area I call Hell. Good luck with that marriage.” He called out as he walked to a waiting car, Stanton coming out with a bag of groceries. Peeking into the bag, it was two bags of coffee. Providing the perfect distraction, the contacts amusing me.
“It really looks like we eat.” I joked tenderly, nudging his shoulder. “Can we go home now?” Winking in my direction, his arm curled around my waist. Flipping me the invitation, his next words pissed me off.
“You are going to that book club tomorrow. Play nice and try not to stand out too much. The trick to winning Susie over is through the love of reading. As I recall, you had a cell full of the latest books.” He ordered sharply, rubbing his chin. “I know you read them all. Can you handle that tomorrow?” Whispering something in his ears, a devilish grin spread cheek to cheek.

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2023.06.07 20:26 goodbredyes Question about missed medication

I’m a 24 year old female, 5’1”, 180lbs, i vape, and i have bipolar 2, anxiety, and avpd (avoidant personality disorder). I take 200mg lamictal and 30mg buspar daily.
i had an issue with walgreens and haven’t taken my medicine in probably a little over a week. i didn’t start at these doses but i’m wondering if i can just start taking them again or if i should cut them in half for a few days. i do not take lamictal for seizures nor have i ever had a seizure. it’s for my bipolar. i’m assuming i’ll most likely feel a little sick or dizzy, or “zappy”. i’ve been on med trials for 8 years trying to find the right combo so i’ve experienced this before just not with these medications. any help or advice would be great.
for reference my lamictal is this medium sized blue tablet and the buspar is shaped like a bar. i could cut them in half im just not sure if i’m “allowed” to. thanks again

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2023.06.07 17:00 Gothicus1016 Just got the newest beta. What are the opinions of the all mighty internet?

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2023.06.07 14:50 kiplet1 [City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security

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“The first order of business,” says the man at the head of the table, “in any face time we take with potential occupancy partners, we need to assess how the anticipated anchor’s gonna impact their appraisal and availability approach.” It’s a long table, a slab of wood the color of pale flesh, polished to a striking gleam that’s broken here and there by a phone or a computer tablet laid before this person or that, until down at the very other end of it, a couple of comb-bound reports bristling with post-it flags, a spill of colorful diagrams, a worn redweld holding a couple of file folders upright, a small black notebook splayed open, the wispy scratch of a fountain pen, APPRAISAL written in ruddy black ink, AVAILABILITY , then three sharp underscores. “It’s not,” the man at the head of the table is saying, “that we anticipate an antagonism toward the anchor, on the part of any potential partners?” His flat grey suit’s a touch too big, the collar of his soft blue shirt’s undone, his sparse beard neatly trimmed. “But by anticipating,” he says, “their respective stances vis-à-vis their individualized brand engagement profiles which, let me assure you, we will be reviewing in a thorough manner before we, we take up any,” he’s trailing off, “tête-à-têtes,” blinking quizzically. The room about them’s walled in cool sheets of green-tinged glass on all four sides and more beyond refracting, reflecting, shimmering desk lamps and fluorescents, computer screens, heads popping up over cubicle walls, turning, following the figure swimming up through them, one glass door after another opening before her, “I,” says the man at the head of the table, “excuse me,” as the final glass door swings open, she’s sweeping into the room, Ysabel in her long white coat. “I tried to tell her,” someone’s saying, a receptionist maybe, bobbing in her wake, and “Do you mind,” says an older man, halfway down the table, a hand on his phone on the wood, but she’s glaring at the very other end of the table. “How dare you,” she says.
“Sorry, folks,” says Lymond, screwing the cap onto his fountain pen. “Think we might have the room a minute?”
“I, um,” says the man at the head of the table, “we just got started?”
“And we’ll get right back into it,” says Lymond. “I’m really looking forward to hearing more about this brand engagement. Now,” pushing back his chair, “if you don’t mind,” but already they’re filing out, shirts and blouses of dull green, milky blue, an intrepid puce, awkwardly around past Ysabel all in white. “Um,” says the man who’d been at the head of the table, in his flat grey suit.
“Thanks,” says Lymond, cheerfully. The green glass door swings shut. “How dare I?” he says, to Ysabel. “I’m the King. A certain latitude’s expected.”
“You could’ve gotten her killed,” says Ysabel.
“They’re watching, you know,” he says, tucking a report into the redweld. “Go on. Lean over the table. Slap me. That should be enough to undo all his sacrifice secured.”
She blinks at that, draws back. “Sacrifice,” she says.
“He thought of it as such,” says Lymond, stacking up those diagrams, tapping their edges against the wood. “Now. Slap me, or turn about, and go home.”
“Not until you explain yourself, brother.”
“Oh, Ys,” he says. “If you would play at this table,” he’s tucking the diagrams into a file folder, “you must pay attention.” A wince, as he sets the folder aside. “We find ourselves upon a crux: the duel between the Devil and the Huntsman redounded to our favor, yet the wound’s but freshly healed. Any sudden shift might tear it right back open.” His hands, folded together before him, a thumb pressed tight against a knuckle. “Is that what you would have?”
“I’ve seen the wound,” she says. “He nearly cut her through. The owr does what it can,” and she looks up from the tabletop to meet his eyes, one brown, one blue, both cold. “She sleeps. She’s been asleep since the Mason brought her home.” Leaning down now, both hands planted on the glossy wood. “I’m doing you a courtesy, by answering a question I assume you would eventually have asked?”
A bitter something of a smile. “How is Jo,” he says, “how Jo is, I know how is our Gallowglas: loyal, and effective. I trusted her to do what needed doing, and she went and got it done. Now,” over her sharp intake of breath, “I ask, once more. You know what is at stake. Do you mean to stand against any particular point of our plan?” Leaning in close. “Slap me,” he says. “Or go home.”
She steps back, she turns away. Before she can open the green glass door he says, “Take care, sister, where and when you might vent any further displeasures?” Looking down, at his folded hands. “Our tantrums are expensive.”
“You’ve no idea,” she says, “what could’ve spilled from her heart, had his stroke been a whit more true.”
She opens the door. He shifts his thumb. The thin line of a neat straight cut along the edge of his forefinger, sewn with tiny beads of dark red blood. He lifts it to his lips. “Um,” says someone, the man in the flat grey suit a touch too big, peering into the room. “Everything good?”
“Paper cut,” says Lymond, waving him in. “C’mon, let’s go. Take it from the top.”
•
Well and I don’t know, dim voices floating up through floorboards loosely laid across the joists, not what we discussed, poets and junkies, epic, like some, there’s a mirror, there’s no one in the mirror, there’s a crack in the glass of it jagged, chased and dappled, splotched with gold, a spangled haze, such a history, working together, that didn’t work, a drip-drip trickle from the faucet, puddles on gold-streaked marble about the sink, but there, it’s gonna be epic, dust gone dark to grey, to black, a lump of it mucked up under the mirror, with the shreds of a burst plastic baggie, this, or this, or this. There’s music, too, loud but languid, strummed guitars, a melodeon, but she’s sitting up in the dark, her head in her hands, and there is no mirror, no light, no sinks or water, no marble countertop, but there is the dust, spangled, glimmering in the milky cloud of her hair, and still the music.
“Well if we have to have a name,” says Gloria Monday.
“It’s something to put on a poster,” says the woman sitting on the nubbled pea-green couch, one hand braced on the curled handle of an orthopædic cane, a big brown scaley purse in her lap.
“Well if that’s all we want,” says Gloria, wrestling to one side a great stretched canvas, a twirling figure calligraphed in slashes of black, to reveal another propped behind it, the next wild scribble of dance. She steps back, behind a tiny silver camera atop a stolid tripod, stoops to peer through it. “We could call it the Lawn,” she says, snapping a picture. Straightening, she looks back and forth, from the painting, to the image of it, now on the enormous white-framed monitor behind her there on the worktable.
“As in get off the?” says the woman standing off to one side, her long black coat done up with brightly silver buttons, and a little grey snap-brim hat on her head.
“That’s not what we discussed,” says Anna in her houndstooth trousers, narrow black-rimmed glasses glaring in the light.
“The house,” says Gloria, taking hold of the canvas. “Run-down and falling apart and poets and junkies and twenty bedrooms to one bathroom and full of,” lifting, “epic,” hoisting it aside, “legend, and, and art,” to reveal the next. “The Lawn,” says Gloria Monday. Her feet are bare, laddered tights printed with overlapping gears, her vast white T-shirt says Robot Fightin’ Boots.
“I liked Weatherall’s,” says Anna. “If we’re going to change it.”
“Yeah, well,” says Gloria, stooping behind the camera again.
“Sounds like some Harry Potter shit,” says the woman in the long black coat.
“Jilting of,” says Gloria, snapping another picture. “Granny Weatherall? Been a while, since you been in high school?” The woman on the couch snorts up a laugh, sits up, hefting her cane. “How about,” she says, pointing the wide rubber foot of it out, toward the cavernous space beyond, “this building,” the boxes, equipment, the bulks of whatever it is under tarps shoved off to either side, stacked in the stalls that one by one march down the long high walls, “the history,” soaked in soft grey light depending from up under the rafters, the windows there scrubbed clean of filth, scraped clear of paint, “a name should honor that.”
“It was a warehouse for vegetables,” says Gloria.
“A farmers’ market,” says the woman on the couch, “built by Italian immigrants, working together. Cooperatively.”
“Snot Market,” says Gloria, “Grime Market, that didn’t work,” grabbing the next canvas, “Pus Market has a certain punch,” hauling it aside, “but Anna didn’t like any of those, and anyway it’s antique punk bullshit. Effluvial Plane I kinda liked, but that’s too, much, y’know?”
“How old are you?” says the woman all in black.
“Fuck you,” says Gloria. “That’s how old I am.”
“Gloria,” says Anna.
“No, fuck this,” snarls Gloria. “We got the space. We’re doing the thing. It’s gonna be epic. And you can either get on board, get your, people, involved,” the woman on the couch, clutching her purse, “you can write about it like you know what’s gonna happen,” the woman all in black, hands in her pockets, smirking, “or you can scramble to catch up after, like everyone else.”
“Ms. Thorpe, we must apologize,” says Anna, after a moment, but “No, no,” says the woman all in black, “tempers run hot and you let them out and that’s fine, and then you stop and you take a deep breath and you think. Maybe you do this, or maybe tomorrow you’re kicked out for squatting. You don’t – ”
“Hey, Anna!” says Gloria. “What’s the owner got to say, about us being here?”
“There are no objections,” says Anna, but Thorpe looks away, rolling her eyes. “I did my homework,” she says, lifting her little grey hat, “or I wouldn’t be here at all,” scratching her head, her dark hair short, swept back. “You’re Suzette Wilson, you’re Tom Wilson’s daughter, and I’m sorry for your loss, but the title to this pile is hardly as clear-cut as,” but Gloria’s saying, “This, this is my place,” as Thorpe says “that’s before we even get into the questions of insurance, and zoning, and inspections,” but Gloria’s shouting “S1! Last Thursday! The Teahouse! You think they waited around for fucking paperwork?”
Anna and the woman on the couch, watching them both, Gloria seething, Thorpe settling her hat on her head, “Well,” she’s saying, tucking her hands in the pockets of her coat, “S1 is street-legal now, yeah, and the Teahouse? That was in Sellwood? Long gone. And you have any idea how much the merchants on Alberta pay the city for extra cops?” A shrug, and that smirk warms to something more sympathetic. “You want to beg forgiveness instead of ask permission and I can respect that, but there’s this delicate balance. You gotta be big enough to get noticed, but you can’t be so big you get noticed, you know?” Looking out, over the cavernous space below. “And all this you want to do in a week.” Turning back, hands spread in a hapless shrug, a burble of sound, “I like you,” she says, “I do, I like the idea,” looking up. It sounds like someone’s singing up there.
Up there, up at the edge of the planks laid across the joists, up by the brief ladder bolted to the wall a couple of long bare legs kicked over and orange underpants, ee, ee-oh nor, the keening voice a grunt, doo da-da dee, doo da-da dee, down the ladder to the walkway up there, a wild mad cloud of white-gold hair, “and quickly was received, enthusiastically,” and Thorpe looks down, over at the paintings leaned, at the image on the enormous monitor. “Some say that it had more to do with her,” the singer’s making her way, hand on the railing, “improper sense of dress, than her talent, or her diligence,” opening a door up there, painted with letters that possibly once said Ranchers, or Gardeners, and closing it muffles her song. “I’m sorry,” says Anna, drawing back their attention. “It seems Marfisa forgot we were meeting this morning.”
“I’ve seen,” says Thorpe, “I’ve heard her, before.”
“Salt and Straw,” says the woman on the couch, but then, lifting a finger, “no, that’s the ice cream.”
“She kinda came with the place,” says Gloria. Up there a crash of water, flushing, that door opens, Marfisa’s stepping out, “Cartier Bresson!” she shouts. “Max Ernst, Paul Eluard, George Bataille,” as she’s making her way back along the wall above them. “Their misogyny really irritated her, but she wasn’t, she,” stopping, standing there, wavering a little, looking down at them. Absently scratching just beneath a breast, and sunlight flashing from the gold dust spangling her skin.
“I heard you play once,” says Thorpe, abruptly.
Her wide smile spreading, Marfisa tips back her white-gold head, “Lee, ee-oh nor!” she sings, reaching for the ladder. “Lee, ee-oh nor!” Climbing back up toward the makeshift floor above.
“Stone and Salt!” says the woman on the couch. “That was it.”
•
Ding the microwave, she opens the door of it, reaches in with a hot pad for a steaming pink mug that says Sophia & Dorothy & Blanche & Rose. In she dunks a purple octopus infuser, dandling its delicate chain a moment. Color blooms.
Out of the kitchen, across the living room, dark wood paneling, grey-green shag, shuff and snap of her slippers into a nook of a hall, too brightly lit. She nudges open a door left ajar, into a small dark room lit only by sunlight staining the edges of heavy curtains drawn, and almost entirely filled by a great wide bed. “I’ve brought tea,” she says, setting the mug on the nightstand in the corner. “Hey.” Sitting on the edge of the bed. “I called Reg,” she says, reaching along the margin of the thick dark comforter, and a gentle stroke for the blond head there, turned away. “Told him we’d need another week. He wasn’t happy, but hey. Fuck him.” Tucking a lock of her own hair, as blond, as straight, behind her ear. “Chrissie,” she says. “Chér.”
“I don’t want any tea.”
“Yeah, well,” says Ettie, and she gets to her feet with a sigh. “This would be why I stick with men. They can’t break your heart.”
•
The door swings open, for a moment all’s revealed, scarred floor and drifts of grit against the bar, peeling dimpled paint along the front of it and its cracked vinyl bumper, dust furring the bottles along the top shelf, the washed-out flyspecked neon lights, the bartender, spiky hair flared palely to a golden brown, hand up against the raw daylight, skinny arm festooned with shadowy tattoos, “Jacks?” says Jessie, blinking, but the light’s swallowed away as the door swings shut, and dimness closes about the warm neon, the sparkle of glass, the rattle of drums and a couple of jangled chords, bubbling bass, “Jackie?” says the bartender, his hair gone black. “Ah, naw. She ain’t here.”
“Oh,” says Jessie, in her puffy pink parka. “Sorry. I thought,” and she shakes her head, Americans were thus denied, someone’s singing, with the guitar and the drums, all right to travel to the other side. “She usually works mornings,” says Jessie. “Any idea when she’s in next?”
“No, see,” says the bartender, “I mean, she’s not here? Anymore?” Folding those skinny arms, leaning his elbows on the bar. “And we can’t be giving out people’s schedules, come on. Basic security.”
“I’m a friend,” says Jessie, and then, “I used to dance here? About a year, year and a half ago. Went by Rain?”
“If you’re a friend,” says the bartender, “I mean, she left, what, right after the holidays? Two, three months ago? So, I mean,” and he spreads his hands. “Want something to drink?”
“Where’d she go?” says Jessie.
“I don’t know, Eugene or something? But even if I did I couldn’t tell you, because, security, you know. Coffee? Anything?”
Betcha my life, there’d be no violence there, and she opens her mouth to speak but everything lights up again, washed out, as the door swings open, two women, raincoat, trench coat, gym bag and backpack, nodding to the bartender who waves hello as they head through empty tables past the empty little stage, toward the nondescript door back there. “How about Chilli,” says Jessie. “He back there?”
“He, naw, Chilli, we’re,” the bartender jumps as she walks away, “we’re under new management,” he calls after her, “so,” but there’s confusion by that nondescript door as it opens, those women stepping through around and past a man who’s stepping out, brown leather vest and rich red hair flopping from a widow’s peak, “I need you to,” the bartender’s saying. Jessie waves him off. “It’s Gaveston,” she says. “I know Gav.”
But Gaveston’s holding the door for someone else, a tall woman in a white track suit, short hair greenly yellow, and Jessie stops short, in the midst of the empty tables. “Chariot?” she says. The tall woman’s saying something to Gaveston, as she heads off past the little stage. “Iona?” says Jessie, and the tall woman looks over to see her there in pink. “Oh,” she says, stopped short. “Rain.”
“Is she here?” says Jessie. “The,” a cough, “the Princess? Uh, Queen? Ysabel?”
Iona’s shaking her head, “I’m merely here on her behalf,” she says, stepping away, but “Iona,” says Jessie, “Chariot, tell her, please,” and Iona stops, looks back. “Yes?” she says.
Jessie looks away. “Nothing,” she says. “Don’t tell her anything. Not even, that you saw me.”
“As you wish,” says Iona. Jessie’s still looking away, there among the empty tables. I’d want the giddy-up, the guitar jangles, I’d want to live it up, I’d want the pick-me-up, and the nondescript door back there’s now shut. The bartender isn’t behind the bar that flares, scoured once more by daylight as Iona opens the door outside. She steps through, the door swings shut, the darkness returns.
•
Nox Sea Raid say the letters punched in light across the screen. Choose Your Squad swooshes in below. A husky contralto says Set em up Sarge over the speakers, and the guy on the beanbag thumbs and clicks the controller in his lap, wheeling the view on the screen about a motley crew of centaurs, each stepping up to present arms as the focus settles fleetingly on them, uttering a catch-phrase, Rock an roll, rack em and pack em, they will fear my song, buzzbombs why’s it have to be buzzbombs, reportin for beauty! rock an rack em rock an pack em why’s it have to fear my rock an roll an reportin! “This is gonna suck,” says the guy on the beanbag, “I need more’n one tank for this.” Wrinkles about his eyes and gingery stubble along his jaw. “Whaddaya think,” he says, looking away from the screen, “would a Mixolydian,” but there’s nobody beside him, there’s a man headed away, over toward the grand dark staircase, dodging around a dark wood column, his sweater bulky, red, he’s looking up to the woman stopped there on the stairs, black trousers, a bowtie unclipped about her winged collar. “Long as he needs,” she’s saying, and “Oh,” says the guy on the beanbag, turning back to the screen, “Ellen’s home.” Clicking through the figures on the screen, rock an roll, reportin for beauty, they will fear, “The hell was he doing, wearing my shirt?” and the guy on the beanbag looks up again at that, the man in the red sweater a step or two up the stairs, and Ellen above him, maybe a shrug, “It looks better on him,” she’s saying, turning away. Why’s it have to be, says the centaur on the screen. Rack em!
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2023.06.07 11:44 i--am--the--light I Minimized cell Phone EMF and i now no longrer have trouble getting back to sleep at 3 AM

So just a quick bit of back story. I'd been having issues getting back to sleep for over 6 months and nothing I tried to rectify this issue worked.
I tried many supplements, melatonin, magnesium (3 different forms) lemon balm, valarian (worked but made me too drowsy the next day) chamomile, even benzos which do work well but could only take once a week for fear of creating an addiction.
I tried blue blocking sunglasses for screens past 7PM, no phones or screens past 9PM. nothing worked. I would still be unable to get back to sleep at 3am for many hours at least 4 or 5 days of my week and this would completely f*CK my mood, health, vitality etc
in a desperate attempt to try an pin point any other factors that may be causing the issue I remembered hearing about EMF frequencies being a possible cause for insomnia.
as it happened I had a new work phone about the time this issue had began, so by my bed I had 2 phones and under my bed my ipad tablet.
I decided to to switch off the tablet and put the 2 phones on flight mode during sleep.
for the last 2 weeks I've had absolutely no trouble getting back to sleep at 3am.
I thought I'd wait a couple of weeks before sharing this to make sure it wasn't just a fluke.
so I'm sure many would guess this was a placibo, I can't say anything with certainty right now but odd that nothing else of the many things I've tried made such a difference without negative consequences.
for those of you that are struggling with the same issue this may we'll be worth a go.

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