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Free Cedar Point, Michigan Adventure, Kings Island Ticket with Blood Drive Donation - IN, MI, OH - 2023 Season

2023.05.28 00:08 RedditRocks2021 Free Cedar Point, Michigan Adventure, Kings Island Ticket with Blood Drive Donation - IN, MI, OH - 2023 Season

Free Cedar Point, Michigan Adventure, Kings Island Ticket with Blood Drive Donation - IN, MI, OH - 2023 Season
The American Red Cross and Cedar Fair theme parks are joining together to encourage blood donations this summer, All those who come to donate at select blood drives will receive one free ticket, valid for entry to participating U.S. Cedar Fair parks as listed below, while supplies last. Ends August 01, 2023, Parking not included.
The summer months are a crucial time for blood and platelet donations as donations tend to decline due to summer vacations and travel among regular donors,, The Red Cross is grateful to blood and platelet donors for coming together to support patients during this challenging time..
Register thru website listed below, Find the blood drive you want to attend, click link and enter the sponsor code: "cedarpoint" in MI or OH, Special code below for Indiana, For that blood drive and register online for an appointment. Blood Donor or person attempting to Donate Blood will receive One (1) Free Cedar Fair ticket available at any one of these Amusement Parks & Blood Drives (below) only. Free Ticket Voucher may be mailed, Due to limited tickets available at each location below. Advance Registration Required. Check back bi-weekly as we add more blood drives. You can donate blood once every 52 days. Did you know when you donate blood, you can save 3 lives. Be the difference, Donate blood and save 3 lives today! Thanks so much for your blood donation..
Free Admission Voucher good at any of these Cedar Fair Parks:
Cedar Point – 1 Cedar Point Dr., Sandusky, Ohio
Cedar Point Shores – 1 Cedar Point Dr., Sandusky, Ohio
Carowinds – 14523 Carowinds Blvd., Charlotte, North Carolina
California’ s Great America – 4701 Great America Pkwy, Santa Clara, California
Dorney Park – 4000 Dorney Park Rd., Allentown, Pennsylvania
Kings Dominion – 16000 Theme Park Way, Doswell, Virginia
Kings Island – 6300 Kings Island Drive, Kings Island, Ohio
Knott’s Berry Farm – 8039 Beach Blvd., Buena Park, California
Knott’s Soak City – 8039 Beach Blvd., Buena Park, California
Michigan’s Adventure -4750 Whitehall Rd., Muskegon, Michigan
Schlitterbahn Galveston – 2109 Gene Lucas Blvd, Galveston, Texas
Schlitterbahn New Braunfels – 400 N. Liberty Avenue, New Braunfels, Texas
Valleyfair – 1 Valleyfair Drive, Shakopee, Minnesota
Worlds of Fun – 4545 Worlds of Fun Avenue, Kansas City, Missouri
*** UPDATED MAY 27, 2023 ***
STATE OF INDIANA - 2023 Season
05/26 - 12:30 PM - 06:00 PM - Church of the Nazarene, 1555 Flaxmill Road, Huntington - Sponsor Code: hnaz
05/27 - 09:00 AM - 02:00 PM - YMCA, 5736 Lee Rd., Indianapolis - Sponsor Code: bhymca
05/30 - 02:00 PM - 06:00 PM - DaySpring Church, 2305 N Indiana, Auburn - Sponsor Code: daysprich
06/14 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM - Community Learning Center 401 East Diamond St. Kendallville
06/14 - 01:00 PM - 06:00 PM - United Methodist Church 13527 Leo Rd. Leo
06/16 - 09:00 AM - 02:00 PM - Skyline YMCA 838 South Harrison St, Fort Wayne
06/26 - 01:00 PM - 06:00 PM - First Baptist Church of Ossian 1001 Dehner Dr, Ossian
06/27 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM - Zion Lutheran Church 101 East North St. Columbia City
06/28 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM - YMCA 5680 YMCA Park Dr West, Fort Wayne
06/29 - 01:00 PM - 06:00 PM - College Park Church 1936 College Ave, Huntington
06/30 - 12:30 PM - 05:30 PM - YMCA 10313 Aboite Center Rd, Fort Wayne
STATE OF MICHIGAN - 2023 Season - Sponsor Code: CEDARPOINT
05/31 - 11:30 AM - 04:15 PM....United Methodist Church 203 Concord Rd, Jonesville
06/02 - 08:00 AM - 04:00 PM....Serra Whelan Chevrolet 40445 Van Dyke. Sterling Heights, 48313
06/02 - 09:00 AM - 03:00 PM....Pleasant Ridge Center 4 Ridge Rd. Pleasant Ridge, 48069
06/09 - 11:00 AM - 04:45 PM....Columbia Central High School 11775 Hewitt Rd, Brooklyn
06/26 - 11:00 AM - 03:45 PM....Napoleon Township 6755 Brooklyn Rd, Napoleon
06/27 - 10:00 AM - 03:45 PM.....West Rome Baptist Church 11984 Rome Rd, Manitou Beach
06/29 - 11:00 AM - 04:45 PM.....Goodwill Headquarters 1357 Division Street Adrian
07/06 - 01:00 PM - 05:45 PM.....First Baptist Church 131 E Main street North Adams
07/06 - 12:00 PM - 05:45 PM.....Free Methodist Church 2829 Park Drive, Jackson
07/11 - 11:00 AM - 05:00 PM....Redeemer Fellowship Church 5305 Evergreen Drive Monroe
07/27 - 10:00 AM - 03:30 PM....Dundee Veterans Memorial 418 Dunham Dundee.
STATE OF OHIO - 2023 Season - Sponsor Code: CEDARPOINT
05/26 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM.....Rocky River Civic Center 21016 Hilliard Blvd. Rocky River
05/30 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM.....Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) 847 W. Maple St. Clyde
05/30 - 09:00 AM - 03:00 PM.....Cleveland Heights High 13263 Cedar Road, Cleveland Heights
05/31 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM.....Christ Community Chapel 750 West Streetsboro St. Hudson
06/01 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM....Youngstown Saxon Club 710 S Meridian Rd, Youngstown
06/06 - 08:00 AM - 03:00 PM.....Massillon Recreation Center 505 Erie Street North Massillon
06/07 - 11:00 AM - 06:00 PM......Avon Isle Park 37080 Detroit Road, Avon
06/07 - 08:00 AM - 02:00 PM......All American Drive at The Venues, 540 S. St Clair Street, Toledo
06/07 - 07:30 AM - 01:30 PM......Bryan High School 1000 W Fountain Grove Dr, Bryan
06/08 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......All American Drive at The Venues, 540 S. St Clair Street, Toledo
06/08 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......Ashtabula Towne Square, 3315 N Ridge Rd E, Ashtabula
06/10 - 09:00 AM - 03:00 PM......Grace Church 7393 Pearl Rd Middleburg Heights
06/12 - 11:00 AM - 05:00 PM......Wickliffe Community Center 900 Worden Road Wickliffe
06/13 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......Stonebridge Church 2111 Stonehedge Dr. Findlay
06/14 - 11:00 AM - 05:00 PM......St Paul's Lutheran Church 2860 East Market St. Warren
06/15 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM......Sandusky Mall Rt. 250 Milan Rd. Sandusky
06/15 - 01:00 PM - 07:00 PM.......Wooster Community Hospital 1761 Beall Ave. Wooster
06/16 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM......Zenobia Shrine 8048 Broadstone Blvd. Perrysburg
06/20 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......Moose Lodge, 1146 N SR 53, Tiffin
06/21 - 11:00 AM - 05:00 PM......Sawmill Creek Resort 400 Sawmill Creek Dr., Huron
06/22 - 09:00 AM - 02:00 PM......North Ridgeville Library, 35700 Bainbridge Rd, North Ridgeville
06/23 - 09:00 AM - 06:00 PM......Mentor Civic Arena 8600 Munson Rd. Mentor
06/23 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......American Legion 500 Glenwood Napoleon
06/23 - 11:00 AM - 05:00 PM......Hilltop High School 1401 West Jackson Street West, Unity
06/29 - 01:00 PM - 07:00 PM......Medina Performing Center, 851 Weymouth Rd, Medina
06/30 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM.....Montpelier High School 1015 E. Brown Rd. Montpelier
07/03 - 09:00 AM - 05:00 PM.....Fairview/Gemini Center 21225 Lorain Road Fairview Park
07/05 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM.....Packard Music Hall 1703 Mahoning Ave. Warren
07/05 - 01:00 PM - 07:00 PM......Wooster Community Hospital 1761 Beall Ave. Wooster
07/07 - 08:30 AM - 02:30 PM.......Hilton Garden Inn 6165 Levis Commons Blvd. Perrysburg
07/11 - 01:00 PM - 07:00 PM.......Hilton Garden Inn 700 Beta Drive Mayfield Village
07/13 - 12:00 PM - 06:00 PM......United Methodist Church, 130 W. Johnson St., Upper Sandusky
07/13 - 01:00 PM - 06:00 PM......United Methodist Church 170 Seminary St. Berea
07/13 - 10:00 AM - 04:00 PM......Teamsters Local 20 435 S. Hawley St Toledo
07/18 - 10:00 AM - 05:00 PM......Crocker Park 239 Market Street Westlake
07/26 - 09:30 AM - 07:00 PM......Cleveland Marriott East 26300 Harvard Rd. Warrensville Heights
07/27 -12:00 PM - 06:00 PM.......Elks 231 Buckeye Blvd. Port Clinton
07/31 - 09:00 AM - 03:00 PM......Community Center 6363 Selig Dr, Independence
08/01 -12:00 PM - 06:00 PM .......Cuyahoga County Library 5071 Wallings Rd, North Royalton
Additional blood drives added every 2 weeks - Click here for updates
Red Cross First Time Donors Video
What happens to donated blood?
American Red Cross - Donate Blood Eligibility Requirements
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2023.05.27 22:43 FYREFLi_KNG My ideas for a Coven spinoff!

I am a massive fan of the Coven and have always wished that Ryan would make a spin-off series devoted to the coven. I came up with a few ideas for what the show could look like, let me know what you think!
  1. American Coven Story: Pilgrimage
The origins of the Supreme, spanning from the late 1500s to the early 1600s. Scathach is already a several hundreds of years old powerful witch, surrounded by myth and legend. The old gods who bestowed her powers onto her are displeased with her wavering faith during an outbreak of witch trials, and offer her an ultimatum: Take pilgrimage to new lands and practice in their name; or lose her powers. She accepts the pilgrimage and flees to the New World, where she spends the next century on her pilgrimage while facing the rise of Puritanism.
  1. American Coven Story: Revolution
Prudence Mather is the Supreme. It’s the height of the Salem Witch Trials. The coven has managed to avoid suspicion of being witches, but their luck is running out. One of their own is caught and hanged by the townsfolk of Salem, and a traitor within their ranks is suspected responsible of betrayal. The coven must do everything that they can to avoid further suspicion and survive the witch trials. By the end of the season, Salem has become too dangerous to live in and the witches flee in search of a new home.
  1. American Coven Story: Hollow
In the aftermath of the Revolutionary War, the coven has relocated to the Hudson Valley, settling just outside of Sleepy Hollow. The townsfolk are welcoming of the coven, but at the same time unnerved - upon their arrival, a headless horseman has started to roam the streets and surrounding lands at night in search of soldiers. He is Death, the horseman of the apocalypse, sent forth by Satan at the behest of Benedict Arnold to wage war against Washington and the newly formed USA - and the coven itself.
  1. American Coven Story: Civil War
Set during the Civil War. The supreme is a traitor. She presents as an abolitionist and friend and ally to the union, but is in turn using her powers to help the confederacy and provide slave holders new slaves. Future supreme Mariann Wharton and a few other witches defect from the coven in an effort to take out the current supreme, allying with voodoo queen Marie Laveau to accomplish this. By the end of the season, Miss Robichauxs is established and Marie declares a life long feud between her tribe and the coven.
  1. American Coven Story: Visions
Set in the late 1800s to the early 1900s, during the height of the Spiritualism movement. A trio of witches arrive in San Francisco, under the belief the city is sitting on the source of magic which they wish to harness for themselves. The eldest opens a funeral home, where she performs experiments on necromancy. The middle sister opens a brothel that employs succubi. The youngest runs an apothecary, whose clients range everywhere from the poor to the social elite. The supreme and her Coven are called to San Francisco to combat the sisters before the trio succeeds in their plot for supremacy.
  1. American Coven Story: Crisis
Set after the events of Apocalypse. Mallory has successfully reset the timeline and the birth of the Antichrist has been delayed - but the existence of a second Supreme witch and her her actions has caused a disruption of the Supremacy line and a gradual breakdown of magical laws - ordinary people are able to preform small bursts of magic, rifts into other dimensions opens, and Madison Montgomery has returned from the dead with full knowledge of the other timeline. Together, Cordelia, Mallory, and Madison must work together to find the true cause - and source - of these bursts of magic chaos before they become out of control to the point of another apocalypse.
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2023.05.27 15:29 s810 Old Austin Tales: Honey Bee Marshall and the Mystery Grave at Smith Creek - 1900s

Today thanks to a tip from Faraday_Rage, I bring you a ghost story from West Lake Hills, although saying that might be a bit misleading because West Lake Hills is a mid-20th century invention and the events of this story happen mostly before that. There used to be a village called Eanes in that general area full of farmers, ranchers, and cedar choppers before it was subdivided into one of the nicer suburbs.
There was only one bridge for vehicle traffic (besides the train bridge) from Downtown into South Austin before the 1940s. Because of this, the western part of Travis County was separated from the growth of Austin and the eastern part of the county, and remained sort of a wild frontier well after the surrounding lands were settled.
Among the early settlers in that area were two brothers named Alexander and Robert Eanes. There is a historical marker at the intersection of Red Bud Trail and Loop 360 which says the following:
Alexander Eanes (1806-1888) moved to Texas from Mississippi in 1845 and acquired this ranch by 1857. In 1873 he sold the property to his brother, Robert Eanes (1805-1895), who had moved to the area following the Civil War. A log cabin built on the Eanes ranch was the first Eanes school, and the community also assumed the Eanes name. Robert Eanes sold the ranch to his son-in-law, Hudson Boatner Marshall (1862-1951) in 1883. Marshall dismantled the ranch house and moved it to a site adjacent to the nearby creek.
So there was a man named H.B. Marshall who lived on the former Eanes Ranch with his wife Viola (Robert Eanes's daughter) and family.
H.B. Marshall was a Civil War orphan. His mom died shortly after childbirth and his dad died as part of Hood's Brigade. He spent his early life in Austin-area orphanages until he graduated high school at the age of 19. That was when the doctors of the era diagnosed him with "consumption", otherwise known as Tuberculosis today. There was no cure in the 19th century. Afflicted people were told to go live in the country and get some fresh air, and that's exactly what he did.
Lucky for him, HB's dad well fairly well off when he died and left him an inheritance. After he left the orphanage he used this money to buy the ranch from the Eanes family, met and married Viola Eanes, and started a family. Legends say a Mexican folk healer convinced him eating goat meat and drinking goat's milk was an excellent remedy for consumption, and so he raised goats.
The book Eanes Portrait of a Community has this photo of H.B. and Viola and their dog, along a brief biographical bit:
H.B. and Viola Marshall sold honey and butter and raised goats. At one time H.B. was president of the American Goat Association and traveled to Chicago to attend that organization's national convention. There he met and talked with Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison and Henry Ford. In its early days the Ford Motor Company used mohair from goats to make a soft, long-lasting fabric which was used to upholster the seats in its "tin lizzies". H.B. Marshall was one of the company's first mohair suppliers. Later, after Bee Cave Road became a better, more reliable road, Marshall, who was a skilled printer sometimes worked in Austin at that trade.
So HB Marshall and his family were very good at raising goats.
The Marshall Family were also beekeepers. HB liked to be called "Honey Bee" Marshall later in life. He lived the rest of his life on that ranch and died in the 1950s.
Now that you have that little bit of backstory, on with today's tale. The following article appeared on page 21 the Austin American-Statesman on May 16, 1966:
Old Grave Beside Creek
The mystery of who is buried a shallow grave beside Smith Creek, seven miles southwest of Austin, may never be solved.
With it goes a tale of a robbery and killing said to have occurred more than 60 years ago on the Bee Cave Road.
But at least one story told by a man who died last year sticks in the minds of some residents of the hill country behind Zilker Park.
The man was long-time stock man and World War I veteran John Marshall, who lived out his life on the Eanes-Marshall Ranch seven miles southwest of Austin. His story told him as a child by his father, early Travis County settler and school teacher Hudson Boatner (Honey Bee) Marshall goes something like this:
In the late 19th century, a man from Bee Caves came to Austin with a wagon load of cotton. After selling it, he was returning home when his hired hand killed him and took the money. The slain man was not found for several days, and when he was, he was buried on the spot, several hundred feel off the road.
This is the way Cecil Johnson, of 1500 West Bee Caves remembers the story. He heard it in 1956 when he and his brother-in-law, Elmo Freitag, dug into the grave and found a skeleton. Freitag and Johnson went from where they live to buy a dog killed by a car on the Marshall ranch, Johnson said. "When we found the bones, we were pretty scared," Freitag said. "We went up to the ranch house to tell John Marshall about them." "That's when John told us the story," Johnson recalls. "He said we should cover the bones back up and let the old man rest."
The story was brought to the attention of the American- Statesman by Bruce Marshall of Houston, a nephew of John Marshall and an heir to 10 acres of the old ranch land. Others who lived along Bee Caves Road, or who knew John Marshall, recall hearing him tell the story, but no one contacted so far remembers hearing the story from anyone else.
Sheriff T. O. Lang said he has no records dating back that far, Marshall was born around 1887, and Johnson said the killing and robbery occurred "before John's time."
A check into the archives in the Austin Library's Austin and Travis County Collection reveals a similar crime which occurred in 1871. On Feb. 7 of that year, according to Frank Brown's Annals of Travis County, "an old citizen" named Charles Barnes, who "lived seven miles north of Austin," was killed and robbed after he had come to town and sold a wagon load of hay. He was shot and killed "probably for his money," and his body was found 30 yards from the road, three-fourths of a mile from his dwelling. A $1,000 reward was offered for the criminal, but he was never captured.
This "official" report is quite similar to the story told by John Marshall, but the directions from Austin do not coincide.
There are descendants or a family named Cotton who live in Bee Caves, according to Miss Jessie Roy, former teacher who lives on the Rob Roy Ranch on the Bee Caves Road two miles beyond the Marshall ranch. But she said she never heard of any of them being robbed or killed. Her family moved here in the 1890s.
Conceivably, with the tale handed down by word of mouth for three generations, the name Cotton, and the product "cotton" could have gotten confused. And the Brown report, probably taken from a newspaper account, could have been mistaken about the direction (north or west) from Austin where the crime was committed.
But if the wagon load was cotton instead of hay, the crime would have occurred most likely in October, according to Austin rancher and historian Carl Widen. Widen said in the old days Austin, it usually came from the south and west, from Dripping Springs and Bee Caves, in October, "in time for the circus." "The whole family would come to town with the load of cotton usually one or two bales to a wagon and after it was sold the women bought cloth for dresses and the kids went to see the circus. Then they got back home late that night.
Another hill resident, Charles Roberts, 80, who lives on a creek near the Rob Roy ranch, said he remembered people hauling cotton in trains of three or four wagons pulled by oxen, rather than by horses or mules. And Austin resident Charles Dellana said it used to take at least four mules to pull a wagon load of corn out of the bottoms or "The Narrows" between Bee Caves Road and the Colorado River. He opined that the murder and robbery must have occurred "earlier than 1903."
Besides the Cotton family out Bee Caves way, other family names familiar to those still living are Theodore Bose, Joe Beck, the Freitags, the Teagues, the Simpsons and the Moores. But who is buried beside Smith Creek on the Marshall ranch, how he died, and when he was buried, no one seems to remember.
Well this old story was apparently told far and wide. There was another article on that same day (May 16, 1966) in The Statesman: (h/t/ jbjjbjbb)
Ghost Hunters Have a Go at Ghosting
San Antonians Learn of Murder and Such Things on Austin Ranch
Ghosts, anyone? A strange tale of murder and theft was spottily told Saturday night by a "spirit" who was supposedly in communication with a group of ghost- hunters seven miles southwest of Austin. The ghost hunters, five people from San Antonio, gath ered on the old Marshall Ranch in West Lake Hills with two news reporters. They apparently believed they were communicating with a ghost named Tom Burns.
"Margaret, Margaret, Margaret," the ghost kept repeating through the automatic-writing technique of Mrs. Joan McKee, wife of Don McKee. McKee is manager of the Builders Exchange of Texas, in San Antonio. He and his wife say they are "student" parapsychologists. Spelling out the name of Margaret Owens, Tom Burns said, "She is dead now. She is my love."
The names of Margaret Owens and Tom Burns were interpreted by the McKees from an almost indecipherable scrawl which Mrs. McKee transmitted to sheet after sheet of paper with a pencil, while her husband held her elbow. They were seated at a table in the single upper room of the old Marshall ranch house. With them were this reporter, ranch owner and Houston Post business writer Bruce Marshall, and San Antonio residents Mr. and Mrs. Frank Gibson, Mr. and Mrs. John Mac-Donald, and Mrs. Mary K. Cook. The only light in the room came from a lantern.
"Burns" said Margaret "Owens" was buried on a mountain top east of the ranch, and had been killed in or near some water. Burns also said he had been killed by three men on a road near the ranch as he was hauling a wagon load of hay. Placing the date at 1904, possibly on a Monday, he said he was shot as he got down off the wagon to move a rock that was in the way.
Although at least two other spirits were supposedly contacted beyond the pale, that of Burns appeared to be the most communicative and the most interesting. It was either Burns, or a ghost named Nathan Anderson who spoke of a John Anderson who came "often" to the ranch to drink "rum from South America" with Robert Eanes.
Eanes, according to Marshall, was the first man in the family to own the ranch property. He died in the 19th century and is buried in a family plot on a hill near the ranch house. Marshall said later there had been a man named John Anderson who was a friend of the Eanes family. Marshall and this reporter have established, from local folklore and from written records, that a man, possibly named Charles Barnes, was killed seven miles from Austin around 1871, after selling a load of ether cotton or hay in town.
There is a grave of an unknown man beside Smith Creek on the Marshal ranch, not far off the Bee Caves Road, which is seven miles from Austin. Neither Marshall nor this reporter have verified that the grave on Smith Creek is the one in which the robbery victim was buried, but the coincidences of the known facts leaves room for speculation that it may be the one.
Burns said he had worked for a man named Cotton Roberts, and that Roberts had worked for a man possibly named Mitchell Treadwell. The name of Treadwell first came to the attention of the group when MacDonald, a former announcer for KONO-TV, fell into a trance through what was called auto-hypnosis. He said he got the name from a ghost present in the room, and that he also received "an impression" of the dates 1890 to 1901. Marshall later disclosed that the old ranch house had been built sometime between 1890 and 1905.
The name "Mitchell" was written on the paper when one of the persons asked aloud, "Does the name Treadwell mean anything to you?" Burns also spoke of his mother, naming her variously Mary Markham, Marstur, Masters and Markem, who he said had been sick in a barn and subsequently died.
Mention was made of a bearded man who wore a big hat and was deaf in one ear, of a box buried beneath a barn, and of wild mohair goats. Marshall said the last man to live on the ranch, his late uncle John Marshall, found a hole on the ranch about 30 years ago where a box apparently had been buried. This was when Miriam A. Ferguson was governor of Texas, he said.
He also said a bearded deaf man had once been a ranch hand there and that John Marshall's father, H. B. Marshall, had raised Angora goats on the ranch. Burns said Roberts had buried the box, and he (Burns) had dug it up. "Money means death," came the scrawled message on the paper.
Two of the most dramatic events of the evening occurred when the McKees tried to communicate with a ghost named "Robert" Both of them believed the ghost to be that of Robert Eanes, whom they described as having a very powerful, domineering personality. Mrs. McKee broke down and could write no more after transcribing the words, "My time is up now. Many have come but nobody will listen." Later McKee tried to communicate, and apparently went into a trance after receiving the word "yes" to the question of whether "Robert" had been born in July.
Just before McKee went into a trance, Marshall and this reporter were curious to notice that a strong wind the only one noticed during the entire night rattled the eaves of the house for about a minute.
The time was shortly after midnight Mrs. Cook, who writes radio and TV commercials, took down the following from McKee's barely audible words: "I have many children. I am as Abraham I shan't stay around where my people don't want me. It is dark. Darkness is in the land. We shall bring light."
Further efforts to communicate with "Robert" failed. After this incident, the "ghosts" seemed to leave the parapsychologists and their fellow delvers into ESP (extra-sensory perception).
A long vigil at the family cemetery until almost dawn proved fruitless. Gibson, sales manager for Pratt and Lambert varnish makers, whose supposedly "haunted" house in San Antonio was the subject of a Houston Post story several months ago, conceded with high good humor that he had seen no ghosts Saturday night "But Robert was around," he affirmed confidently.
Marshall and this reporter scratched their heads, totaling up the number of "unexplainable coincidences" which made the night at least a little provocative if not downright exciting. It would take a patient historian to check the names listed. As for the "ghosts" well, who knows?
H.B. Marshall had a son named John and he in turn had a son named Bruce. Bruce Marshall was an artist who spent most of his time in Houston but moved back to the family ranch in 1974. Marshall recounted the story of the 1966 ghost hunt in this 1983 article:
THE SEARCH FOR ghosts is not uncommon with visitors to the Marshall Ranch off Loop 360 South. It is the home of artist Bruce Marshall and his family and nine ghosts, those of seven people and two horses.
Marshall studio and gallery is a restored, pre-Civil War ancestral home located next to the family residence. Parapsychologists visited the building in 1966 and declared it to be haunted by a man who was attacked, shot and killed near the original entrance of the ranch. The ghost of the dead man, whose unmarked grave is still on the ranch, reportedly told the ghosts hunters about his fate. The ghost also admitted that he had committed murder, killing a woman named Margaret by drowning her.
There are two creeks near the ranchhouse that are the source of several other ghost stories.
"SUPPOSEDLY ONE GHOST walks the creek towards Eanes (Elementary) school calling for someone," said Marshall. "There were some kids camping near the creek about six months ago, they heard dogs barking and the noise of a wagon drawn by horses. The wagon has no driver and follows an old road which used to connect to Bee Cave Road."
Marshall said his family tries to play down the ghosts tales surrounding his homestead. "If we really become convinced that we're haunted, we really lose our enjoyment of the place. People seeking ghosts out here are very unwelcome," he said. "If there are such things, they don't bother me. They like me. They probably feel that if I go, the house goes, the property changes, and they're evicted.
In 1999 Marshall sold the house and the ranch to The Eanes Historical Society, who moved it next to the current location of Eanes Elementary School, where it has become the home of the EHS and serves as a small museum today.
So who is in the mystery grave at Smith Creek? I found one lead.
Back in February of 1916 a 20-year-old man named Albert Cook had an unfortunate accident and was killed. The Statesman reported it like so:
While setting a wolf trap on the Marshall goat ranch, eight miles from Austin, Alfred Lee Cook, 20 years old, accidentally shot and killed himself at 8:30 Friday morning, a charge of buck-shot from the left barrel of a double-barrelled shotgun entering his abdomen.
Cook was a laborer on the Marshall ranch, near Summitt. Early Friday morning he attempted to set a steel trap for wolves. He was carrying a shotgun and was accompanied by two small boys.
Setting his shotgun, both barrels of which were loaded, against a bush, he advanced to the trap. The gun fell across his path and he shoved it aside. As he did so, in some way the left barrel of the gun was discharged, the entire charge taking effect in his abdomen at short range and badly lacerating his body. Death was almost Instantaneous.
Justice of the Peace George W. Mendell, Deputy Sheriff Jim McCoy and Deputy Constable Matt Turner went to Summitt this morning for the Inquest. Justlce Mendell rendered a verdict of accidental shooting. The name of one surviving relative was reported to the Justice of the Peace, being Mrs. Rebecca Ann Brown, mother of the young man
Is this the person in the grave? I can't say for sure without DNA testing, but poor Mr. Cook might be the best candidate.
Time is short and space is long today so I'll leave it there. The Eanes-Marshall house today is called the Eanes History Center, and sits next to Eanes Elementary School at 4101 Bee Caves Rd. Bonus Items to follow:
Bonus Pic #1 - Photograph of Bruce Marshall standing next to the graves of his ancestors in Eanes-Marshall Cemetery - unknown date (mid 1970s?)
Bonus Pic #2 - "Photograph of Bruce Marshall and Dorothy Depwe in the Eanes-Marshall Cemetary looking down at a tombstone." - unknown date (mid 1970s?)
Bonus Video #1 - Eanes History: HB Marshall (from Eanes History Center)
Bonus Video #2 - Eanes History: HB Marshall Ranch House Tour (from Eanes History Center)
Bonus Article #1 - Masons BBQ meet at The Marshall Ranch - November 17, 1919
Bonus Article #2 - "Better watch out! Spirits on the prowl!" - May 14, 1966
Bonus book excerpt? - Notes from an interview with Earl Short (a reformed bootlegger), in which he mentions he saw H.B. and John Marshall setting up a soda stand one Election Day after he bribed some illiterate people for their votes.
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2023.05.27 13:52 chainsaw_creepy Secret passage in the corner of the yard

Hello. I won't beat around the bush. This letter, more like a confession, came to me through a long chain of acquaintances and distant relatives several years ago. I do not personally know the people referred to in the letter, and I cannot say anything about its authenticity. However, the places described in the text do exist, I myself grew up nearby.
Last week I was digging through my email for the password to an old multiplayer game and came across this email again. To be honest, reading it the second time was just as disturbing and uncomfortable as the first. Having come up with nothing better, I decided to translate it into English and show it to you, friends. My fellow Yuriy Eremenko (hi bro!) helped me with the translation, I myself am not so good with English.
I want to know what you think about all this. I really really want to.
from: bespalyi*** to: litovskih.*** subj: Regarding your request
Hello, Sasha. Forgive me, if you can of course, but it didn't work this time.
I can explain how that happened, but you probably shouldn't count on me now. I do think there is still a chance though. You can try to do everything yourself. I did not manage to do it, but maybe you still can. It's a bad option, a very bad one. This is not a good thing, no matter what you say to yourself. Quite the opposite.
If I had another solution, I wouldn't even suggest this, but I do not see one. I just remember your look when we last saw each other, and, well...
Look, just think it through, don't do something you would regret later, do not rush anything. I may have nothing to lose, but you have Zina, and your parents, if they're still alive of course. Sometimes it's just better to leave things as they are, you know?
I'll tell you what I know. You know my address. Delete this message once you read it.
Long story short, when I was about 10 or 11 years old, there was this urban legend about our yard...
I feel like I've known this legend for a long time, since my childhood. All the kids were aware of this legend and knew plenty of other, similar ones. In the town's outskirts, in this ("experimental", as they said back then) microdistrict lived several generations of teens. From the town to our district led a 5 kilometer long road, alongside several sandlots. Schools, kindergartens, couple of clubs - according to the architects, these blocks of flats, around 20 of them, that organized our microdistrict, were supposed to be autonomous. And autonomous they were. Sure, some people went to the town from time to time, to visit their relatives for example, but the majority of us rarely left Zhilmash.
As a result, stories about a creepy man from the local park, or about the dark secrets of the sewers, or, say, about the manhole in a corner of one of the yards constantly circulated around the local kids and teens, told again and again and collecting more and more creepy and less believable details. Seriously, someone should have written a dissertation about our "folklore", but that's beside the point.
Thing is, our surroundings were not the only thing that was enclosed. In fact, our yards were as well. In the middle of a square made of long nine-story buildings, where all the porches were facing, there was always a polyclinic, a school, or any other socially important establishment, while a few archways led outside these fortresses, as if they were meant to have a suspension bridge as well. One would think that Zhilmash was designed by a man suspecting that, sooner or later, the locals would have to withstand a circular siege of their houses.
The urban legend I want to explain to you is about the corner closest to my porch. There were bushes growing in said corner, facing the shop windows of a pharmacy and a barbershop that occupied the first floor. There, near ground level, between the two blocks of flats, formed a crack roughly three palms wide and about one and a half meters high. There was a small passage behind the crack, but no adults ever went that way. This hole allowed us to shorten our path outside, but squeezing in there and staying clean was impossible. So we, kids and teens, were the only ones to really use it, especially when playing hide and seek and enacting a tiny war. At the same time, the adults had to take one of the archways to get to the bus stop.
Right in front of the hole there was a square, about an open book-sized, stone block, placed into the ground, seemingly during the construction works, resulting in this small pedestal. As the story went, you had to place some small animal on top of it and kill it. Then, instead of the crack, there would appear a passageway not to the concrete slab behind the bakery, but a way to an entirely different place. A "dead world" of sorts. Once you got there, you needed to quickly find a kiosk with closed or painted over windows, go to its front and loudly and clearly ask for whatever you wanted - a new Sega or even a computer. Some boy, according to the rumors, had even asked for an entire jeep. And, if you did it right, your wish would come true and you would need to hurry and exit this place before the passageway closed.
Typical story, if I am honest - dark, cruel and stupid. Precisely one that children love. As proof, people constantly brought up a friend of a distant relative's friend who did exactly that and their wish came true. They also pointed out the concentric circles and squiggles scratched on top of the pedestal with a knife or some nail.
Nobody from our company even thought of torturing a poor animal like that to test this stupid story For even joking about it we'd call the one suggesting to test the story sick in the head. Nika, however, was not from our company. Almost an adult, as I thought back then, a very beautiful girl with copper hair and almost constantly bruised knees, she once went to live with her grandmother for the summer and immediately gained the role of our yard's Ataman, setting up her own rules.
We were showing her around for the whole duration of July. I think each of my friends fell in love with her at least a tiny bit, since we were of that age. On one of the last long evenings before she was supposed to leave we set up a small bonfire, baking potatoes that we got god knows where with salt in tinfoil. We were telling stories, and of course someone blurted out something about the passageway. On the next day, Nika brought her grandmother's parrot to our "Headquarters" on the sandlot.
Have you finally figured it out, Sasha? Anyone else would have said that I may have lost my mind or maybe became an alcoholic, since I am seriously telling you how a children's horror story became reality. But not you. Yes, you got that right: all these years, when the need arose, I went to a pet store, bought a pet, one that I did not feel that much guilt about, and went there. The hole and the stone block are still there. But do not get too excited, finish reading first. Because you cannot solve it just by killing an animal. Nothing happens so easily, you know it well.
When Nika, ignoring our loud protests, broke the poor parrot's neck, we fell silent. Something broke alongside his spine. Something right turned very wrong. Nika did not seem as beautiful to me anymore. Her appearance did not change, but the girl herself and everything around her became ugly in my eyes. Especially gross was the stone block with the little carcass on top of it. As if it was made of squirming insects and not concrete. At the time I couldn't understand where this fracture appeared, inside me or somewhere outside. Now I know - everywhere.
We were stunned for just a moment, then we heard a loud sound from behind our backs. It was as if something huge smacked its lips, opened its mouth and inhaled deeply, almost with pleasure. The air in the clearing started to float and distort, flowing around us. Then it went in the vertical passage between the two houses, now leading to the bluish twilight of a somehow different yard, completely alien to us. In our yard it was only midday.
Houses stood there as well. Normal from the first glance, but looking dusty, almost ancient, like pyramids in the pictures of a children's encyclopedia. In the light gusts of wind small whirlwinds of dust formed and fell apart. It got cold - not extremely cold, but more like the cold you feel when entering the shadow on a sunny day. And a faint smell. It was disgusting, bitter and almost rotten, like from a wet overfilled ashtray or from a Chizhevskiy's lamp. The wind was making the grass move - normal grass on our side, and some colorless and dried like hay stems on the other.
Despite my disgust, I managed to grab Nika, who was running right past me into the passage, by the wrist, but she pushed me aside, and squeezed into the passage. Into the portal. After all, why not call it for what it is. She stood there for a bit, looking around. She turned to look at us with fear on her face mixed with enthusiasm. And, as it seemed, the enthusiasm overcame all of her fear.
— Don't just stand there! Come here!
Nobody moved a muscle. Quite the opposite. Kostya, the youngest of our group, backed away slowly until his back hit the wall. Nika's ginger hair almost faded, became an unremarkable shade of brown. Weird details, I know, but this is how I remembered her: scared and faded. Almost fractured.
— Nika, please come back, — Anton said quietly.
— Wha-a? Pft, pussy! And you call yourselves men? Aren't you curious? — her voice sounded muffled, the intonations fading out at the border.
— Really, don't...Maybe you shouldn't go there, we can clearly see that something is wrong there. And it stinks. Maybe this place is radioactive?
— We'll lie to your grandma that Kesha flew out the window, — I said, — Tell your grandma I let him out, you won't get scolded. Let's go, please? What if the passage closes? How will we get you out?
Our obvious stress, of course, only made her more excited. We should've just shut up or suggested coming back with rope and a flashlight, but we were too scared. And then she walked away and ordered us to watch the passageway. Called us dipshits and that she'll go make a wish, disappearing behind the nearest house with darkness instead of windows.
We waited for 30 minutes or so, but nothing happened. Moving slowly, as if underwater, I walked around the pedestal to see that world better. Yes, there was indeed a town, but almost swollen, wrong. Monochrome, like in a dream. Similar to our town in general. As long as you pay no mind to the details, that is.
There, everything seemed a bit bigger than normal: the window holes are bigger, the floors are higher, and the empty metal trash can could fit a person inside it. Along the road stood distorted lampposts, accentuating the unpleasant perspective. The upper floors were lost in a fog, making the unusually thin street, squeezed by buildings from both sides, look more like a cave with a high ceiling rather than an open space. No movement. And no sky as well, just countless dark shades instead of it. One row of buildings stood behind the other, hiding the horizon from my view and forming a depressing maze, the further parts of which were swallowed by darkness and fog. Alongside the road, the broken benches and rusty cars there were lots of grey sand.
Looking at the corners and the walls going up and to the sides I did my best to imagine people walking around here, living in these houses and then just packing up their things and suddenly leaving somewhere else.
As hard as I tried to imagine it, I just couldn't...
Instead, old scenic decorations came to mind, meant to imitate a normal soviet town for some old forgotten movie.
My thoughts were interrupted by a terrifying scream from the crack's side, echoing around the emptiness between these scary monoliths. It was Nika, but her scream was so loud and strained that it turned into a roar and then a wheeze. Sasha, you wouldn't believe that a small girl could scream like that. There was a temporary silence necessary for a deep inhale and the scream started again. It got closer. Nika was supposed to come out from that corner, which she disappeared behind all this time ago.
Seconds passed by, I did not let my eyes wander from that corner, trying to pinpoint at least something in the darkness of this dead world. And finally, I saw a shaky silhouette. It did not look human. Struggling to move on short leg stumps, an armless and asymmetrical figure leaned on the wall. The sacks and meat pieces dragging behind the figure inflated and deflated making fleshy noises, like a frog goiter. Bending like a worm, it pushed itself off the wall with all of its strength and made a few more clumsy steps in our direction. It screamed in Nika's voice. The scream came from the disorganized lumps of flesh the thing was dragging behind it.
I screamed and recoiled. The edge of a stone, which I had completely forgotten about, hit my knees. Falling, I threw the bird's carcass onto the grass. The champing sounded again, as if cutting off the heart-rending cry of our friend with a knife. Gradually, other, normal sounds returned: the laughter of children from the side of the sandbox, the cooing of pigeons, the voice of a woman calling someone for dinner from the kitchen window. It was day again in the narrow opening, rare dandelions were swaying there, a bus, battered by life, drove up to the "Sports School" stop. A striped cat ran past and darted into the basement window. Nika was nowhere to be found.
Drowning in tears, we told the adults what had happened: first to our parents, then to a gloomy man in an unbuttoned police jacket, while a friend of his questioned the neighbors. Nika's grandma was taken to the hospital, we thought her heart was about to stop. No one told us that we were lying or played around too much. But the testimony of little kids was also not taken seriously. They clarified over and over again if we had seen a suspicious man, and even described his appearance. They must have had some kind of maniac in mind.
I accompanied the policeman to the place where Nika was last seen. He looked around, stuck his head inside the hole, went around the house and wandered for a long time on the other side of the patch of land between the ends of the houses, looking for something in the grass. Then they left. The blue UAZ appeared in our yard several more times, but, of course, it was as if Nika had disappeared without a trace.
That summer, I occasionally thought about what she was like when she stood there, calling us to follow her. At night, I dreamed of something else. Something almost turned inside out, but still alive ... However, this happened less and less, and life had set its own priorities. In the fall, my father left us, problems began at home, there were also several disagreements at school. Years passed. The old company fell apart, new friends from the other yards appeared. I remembered little about the red-haired girl, but since then I have always went past the accursed place. That is, until I was fifteen.
After my father left us, my mother started drinking. A little bit at first, locking herself in the kitchen after work. Thinking that I'm sleeping in my room unaware of her crying, sitting with a glass of vodka in front of the TV. Then things got worse. Getting drunk, my mother became tearful, asked me for forgiveness, promised that she would quit from tomorrow morning, but that, of course, was a lie. A couple of times I got hit in the face by the men she brought with her - I tried to get them to leave the apartment. Then I skipped school for weeks so as not to show my bruises.
The head teacher wrote our family down as dysfunctional and did not do much since. By the eighth grade, the entire household was on me, I even learned how to cook. Mostly I just cooked soups, because they were somewhat filling and inexpensive. I got a job with a friend of his father at a car wash as a "runner" when my mother was fired from her job. She had spent all of the alimony on alcohol. My father knew, sometimes threw some extra money our way, but did not want to interfere in our affairs. It seems that he had started a new family, but I did not ask questions, and he was in no hurry to tell me anything.
By the ninth grade, every morning, just opening my eyes, I sincerely hated this life. Sometimes I spent whole days in bed, listening indifferently to the clanging of glasses of my mother's friends in the kitchen. How she vomits in the bathroom, yells at the TV, knocks at the door to my room: "Kolenka, sonny, I'm one hundred roubles short, I'll return it at the end of the month! Do you want to go for a walk in the park later? Do you remember what you wanted? I'll only go to the store and then go back". After another call to the ambulance, while the mother was sleeping under a dropper, the paramedic told me (not looking up from filling out the papers on hospitalization refusal) that she would last another year at this pace, maybe two, and then it would be necessary to call not an ambulance, but a funeral home.
Every morning in the ninth grade, I woke up with thoughts about the hole in the corner of the yard and the strange city lying behind it. The legend turned out to be accurate, the first part at least, so why the hell shouldn't it be true in its entirety? I knew what wish I wanted to make. Only a miracle could save my mother, or rather, both of us. And if not, then I didn't even want to live too much. I remembered all the horror of that summer, but you can't run away from yourself: the idea seemed more attractive day by day. Do you understand, Sasha?
One day, after returning from my lessons, I found my mother drunk on the floor by the stove, with an arm broken at the elbow. It seems she was trying to cook dinner for us when she lost her balance and fell. The sharp tip of the broken bone pierced the stretched skin from the inside, and she didn't even wake up. It's a miracle that she didn't have the time to turn on the gas.
Having sent her to the hospital, I sat up all night without sleep, and in the morning I went to the zoo store and bought an exotic lizard with the last money I had for this month. It cost far more than the funny hamsters that bustled about in the neighboring enclosure, but I couldn't bring myself to look at them. It was easier for me this way.
Everything worked like a charm. I again felt that the world had cracked, but now I myself was the center of the split, as Nika had once been. From that day on, I started to feel worse about myself, you know? As if I was that one person who I would not shake hands with at a meeting. I became a little unpleasant for myself, I don't stop to look at my reflection in the mirror anymore, I constantly carry this trash in myself. It's up to you if you decide to follow in my footsteps. I have a theory. It consists in the fact that, by opening the hole, you are doing something disgusting, and not even by personal, but by cosmic standards ... And the problem is not in the killing of an innocent animal, which is necessary for this, but in what happens then - in the very appearance of the gap.
Looking up from the stone, I was not even surprised. It was as if all these years had not happened at all, the city behind the hole has not changed at all, except for a couple of little things. I think that time goes differently there, or is even frozen in place. Because the "dead world" is not actually an abandoned village located somewhere in the north. Rather, it is an echo. A dream about what our reality could become if something terrible happened to humanity, which we miraculously managed to avoid. People have never inhabited these houses. Their inhabitants are completely different. And they are still there.
When I climbed through the gap, the smell of decay and bitterness spilled in the cold air, vividly reviving childhood memories. I looked around for traces of the creature that came to us four years ago from the darkness. The deposits of sand seemed to form a barely noticeable path leading along the wall and making a loop near the hole, from where a long rectangle of light was now falling. But it could have been an illusion, or the natural workings of the wind, and I didn't see anything else.
I had a flashlight with me, but I did not dare to turn it on. There was enough light, even though the source was not clear. Soon I noticed that there was light in some of the windows: first in one part of the building, then in another, square frameless pits were faintly opalescent, all in the same dirty-gray spectrum, like multiple TVs tuned to the same program were working right behind them. From other windows protruded long black tufts of what looked like crooked branches of dead shrubs or mushroom stipes.
Getting colder inside with every step, I wandered, raking in the smelly sand with my feet, in the direction where Nika had fled in search of a way to make her wish. Clinging to the ice-cold stone, I looked around the corner. Nothing was moving in the streets. The road continued, partially blocked in two places by fallen lampposts, smashed to pieces like antique columns in the ancient ruins of a lost civilization. But for some reason, it constantly seemed to me that something was still breathing behind these walls and, perhaps, even looking at an intruder from the darkness of these huge apartments. Gathering what little courage I had left, I took a few steps towards the center of the street, looking intently around me in order to detect any possible source of danger in time.
To the left, slightly to the side, stood a gray cube of something like a boiler room or a transformer booth with its gates wide open, as if in an invitation, with barely visible broken wires laying around. Behind it began a labyrinth of small garages, almost completely hidden behind thickets of the same bundles of sticks, which had made their way here and there from under the ground, like frozen explosions, from round holes in wells with torn hatches. Whatever happened here happened very quickly. I looked ahead. In the distance, about one house away from me, near what looked like a broken subway lobby, a patch of dim glow spread across the asphalt: one of the lanterns still functioned there, the only one as far as the eye could see.
In the dim circle of light stood a row of ordinary trading stalls. You know, those armored monsters with tiny money slots, they used to hang around every corner and sell pretty much everything from chewing gum to hard-to-find pantyhose.
My heart pounded even faster. So the legend did not lie about this either! To get there, it seemed, it was enough to go straight along the street past a series of entrances, some of which even still had doors hanging on one hinge. I must have lost my vigilance from impatience...
Each dark doorway was three meters high. As I drew level with the first of them, I heard something rolling in there, inside, bouncing off the steps. A worn rubber ball with two stripes rolled out onto the road in front of me. I used to have the same exact ball as a child, except that it got lost somewhere. Perhaps it flew away from a strong kick somewhere into the bushes, and I never saw it again. Maybe even in those very bushes in the corner of the yard.
I won't bore you with the details of the fear I experienced there. Both for the first time, and in all of my subsequent visits. Either way, you will see something of your own, personal, my experience will not be useful to you. Just... be prepared for anything. Just like in that ravine, in the first Chechen war, remember? Ha, then, after the shelling, you and I decided that now we saw everything, we were baptized, and nothing could scare us anymore. I don't know about you, but then I saw plenty of things afterwards: both in the dead world and in our ordinary one. Hell, sometimes I even miss the war. Don't get me wrong, but at that time I had friends, we swore to go through life together, if we made it out alive that is, and we believed in our oath.
Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. It's been a long time since the last opportunity to talk heart to heart to someone.
I don't know for sure whether this world can harm you, whether it just plays around, whether it wants to scare, or vice versa - tries to make friends. I will only say that its inhabitants should be avoided at all costs. It is not difficult, they are rarely intrusive and almost never leave their homes. But if you see fresh footprints in the sand or something like a stripe that a huge snail could leave, turn around and leave. Don't run, you don't have to run there at all. You'll be back the next day. Each animal killed will take away a piece of your own soul, but it's better that way than to disappear completely.
Look at the picture I have attached. I have drawn, as best I could, the route that turned out to be the safest. Strictly follow it, even if some loop seems strange and unnecessary to you. Especially if it appears. Yes, in one place you will have to enter the house. There is a gap in the apartment on the second floor, you go out there, go down another entrance. So it is necessary, and for God's sake, do not arrange excursions for yourself, but inside the house, look only at your feet. Right at your feet and nowhere else. Ideally, close your eyes altogether. I wrote down the required number of steps, remember the amount and count.
Well, there is little left to say. How I got to the stall and made my first wish...
Coming out right under the dead light of the lantern, I perceived almost nothing. I was not harmed, but the human psyche, especially of a skinny teenager that I was, is simply not adapted to endure such things. I was trembling, not believing that I got there. At first I was overcome with despair at the sight of a row of stalls: they were destroyed and had see-through holes in places: just rusty frames with spots of dry and peeling paint. In the floor of one of them, a nasty mushroom-like bush grew, parting the wreckage.
Slowly walking along the large heaps of metal, I reached the last kiosk in the row, and although the light inside was not on, I knew: this is it. Welded from sheet iron, like all the others, this one was mostly intact. Even the glass behind the bars had survived, so dirty that no goods behind them, if any, could be seen. On a small semicircular window, behind which the salesman was supposed to be, there was a yellow card with a faded, just like everything around, inscription: "OPEN". Gathering my strength, I tapped on the window with my knuckle. Just a second later, it opened.
My nose was hit with a terrible stench. Once I already felt something similar. When, one autumn, I took a deep breath of hot and humid steam, coming from a sewer in which some animal had died and had been decomposing for a long time.
The darkness of the iron box was not pitch black; It occupied almost the entire volume of the kiosk. It was the Seller.
Finally, the movement in the darkness stopped. "Even if the kiosk had a door," I thought, "this creature would not be able to get out and chase me." The thought calmed me down a little, but I lost all of my pre-prepared words. My voice sounded strange and muffled in the middle of the empty square of this forgotten world.
— My mother... She is a good person, but she drinks a lot. Vodka, that is... or any alcohol. She won't be able to stop on her own because she's sick and I can't do anything about it. I have tried and tried!
The last "tried" quickly faded, as the echo disappeared into the alleys and yards. They didn't answer me. I don't know to whom and what I tried to prove, the words just flowed out of me, and they were sincere.
— She will die if it goes on like this, and I will be left alone. We didn't deserve it. I still love her! Therefore, I want my mother to stop drinking, and everything to be fine with us, just as before!
— Can I? — I added, waiting for the mocking echo to die down again.
And then there was silence. A minute had passed, and I sighed. What was I even thinking about. I fell for childish tales, climbed into a world where everyone either died a million years ago or became monsters, I tried to talk with one of them ... I need to save myself as soon as possible. Or maybe when I return to the passage, it will be closed? The thought that I could stay here forever made me want to just lie down and cry.
- f̶i̸n̸g̴e̶r̴, - gurgled the darkness.
- What? A finger?
- f̵i̶n̶g̷e̵r̶
Oh god, it was impossible to call it a voice, but it seems that I understood what they wanted from me. An icy cold sweat formed on my forehead. Why did I decide that everything would be free? Did this shit sound like a good fairy tale from the very beginning? And what if this creature bites off my finger, will I be able to get back and not bleed out?
Without giving myself a chance to change my mind, I tore two long strips from my T-shirt, then pulled out the trouser belt and squeezed it in my teeth, folding it in half, like I saw in the movies, until my mother sold our cassette player to someone for almost nothing. Clenching my left hand into a fist, I stuck out my pinky finger and put my hand right in the window of the kiosk, at the same time closing my eyes and clenching my teeth.
Nothing happened. After a couple of minutes, I dared to open my eyes. Maybe I misunderstood, and it was not about barter? As soon as I took my hand out, the window slammed shut. The inscription on the card had changed, now it said "CLOSED". Looking at my left hand made me dizzy, I started to feel sick: there was no pinky finger. There was no blood either, the remaining half of the phalanx looked like I lost my finger a long time, at least a year ago. Deciding to deal with this later, I went back. The hole and the clear sunny day behind it were still there.
You know, Sasha, I still wonder: what did Nika wish for? What was the price she had to pay?
As for what happened next, I think everything is clear. When my mother returned to work, we patched up our place, which had been pretty much wasted at that moment. I retrained from a simple car washer to an assistant mechanic in the same place, in a car service. I was entrusted with simple repairs, they paid a little more. In general, the money began to suffice. I had to call my friends to ward off some excessively aggressive chumps, who did not want to understand that they were no longer welcome at our house, and life went on as usual.
I learned to live without my pinky finger in just a week, and I lied to my mother about an accident at work last year. She cried again, of course. Mom died ten years ago: quietly, in bed, already retired. There was no more drinking involved, and those were good years. There would have been more if not for her poor health.
After leaving school, a war broke out, and the military registration and enlistment offices did not particularly sort out who to take. From here on out, you know everything yourself. Some returned, some didn't. We've been lucky. It was there that you called me Kolya the Fingerless, but now you at least know where my finger actually went.
At home, I got a job as a car mechanic in a bus depot. Between a tank and a rust-bucket of a car there is not such a big difference, if you look closely. Life was not that great for me, but I had girls, and meetings of old veterans. I bought my mom a country house in the suburbs to grow her own tulips there - what else does a person need? Only in a nightmare could I imagine that someday I would return to the dead world. But fate decided otherwise.
You now know how I spent my pinky finger. But at our last meeting, you noticed (I saw that you noticed): since then I have been squandering a lot. Three fingers remained on my right hand and two on the left. And that's not it. One kidney. Pancreas. And my left eye can't really see. Can you guess why that is? I think you can. You have always been the smartest among us, student.
As you could have guessed, I haven't worked as a mechanic for a long time. I get my allowance, I don't leave the apartment, I almost forgot what people look like, except for the girls from the welfare department. But I'm not offended. Do not reproach yourself that we did not communicate for a long time. And tell our guys, if necessary, when you meet. I wouldn't even talk to myself if I could.
When a year passed, we returned to civilian life, and things started to get better for everyone, Igor at first suddenly did not want to go to the next meeting to drink, remember that? And when we forced him, he sat in the corner, pale, did not even drink. This is Igor, who prepared booze almost from antifreeze.
His wife, Katya, was diagnosed with a bad case of breast cancer. And he loved her unconditionally. She was waiting for him to return from the war and here he was after all. I must have said too much then. I could not look at how he was tormenting himself, I really wanted to cheer him up. Everyone lost their mood, they parted early, and on the way back I bought a canary near the house. Breast cancer cost me another finger and another lie about an accident at work.
After that, a rumor had spread, either as a joke, or seriously: the fingerless healer. Everything was as promised: not just a remission, but as if the sickness was removed completely. The doctors were shocked, Igor laid at my feet while I couldn't even look him in the eyes.
Then more people came. Someone has a mother, an old father, children... Especially children. Then I realized that our world is full of suffering. I, whatever one may say, could help where nothing else would have helped. What is one finger of mine against someone's life that is just beginning? Believe me, I thought about this a lot, looking at all the new short stumps: stumps sticking out of my palm.
I didn't agree every time, and when I did, I didn't say anything. Inoperable hip fracture, legs turned into mush, the guy will never walk again - a finger. Sudden stroke, progressive dementia, another one. Congenital cerebral palsy, complete paralysis of the body - two fingers. Rumors spread. That's when you came to me for the first time, remember? We put your Zinka back on her feet, I hope she is doing well now.
Nine. Nine trips to the dead world, and every time a little less of me came back. And every time, while I looked at the opening passage, some creature was dying in my hands, and inside a part of my soul was dying as well. Nine is a lot, Sasha. I no longer feel anything but deep disgust for myself. People cannot look at me without disgust, without understanding why. They feel what I have become, although they do not know the reason. Paradoxically, the more I helped people, the more lonely I got. But I was ready for it, it's part of the price.
The only reason I haven't killed myself yet is because I might be of use to someone else. What little is left of me.
And then you called again.
I'm really sorry about your girl, really. I hope this fucking junkie gets caught and hanged by the balls. Believe me, I was ready to give everything that I have for her. I don't know, really, whether that would be enough or not ... Everyone else was alive, you know? Sometimes things were very bad, and then it cost me more, but everyone else was still alive. Nevertheless, I was going to try.
But the unexpected happened. As I made my way to the kiosk, I heard the soft cry of a child. It was coming from the windows of one of the apartments, away from my usual route. I don't know what came over me, but I decided to check. Used the grappling hook, climbed into the window. An insane risk, but... I must have realized something on a subconscious level. It was Nika.
How much time has passed, more than thirty years? But that is by our, earthly standards. For how long did she wander through the monstrous colorless void among the dreary monoliths, from apartment to apartment, in the hope of meeting at least one person? I'm afraid to even imagine it. The main thing is that she is alive. And she's still a child, in a way. In its current form, at least...
Oh, you should have seen what her stupid wish did to her. What was it like? Perhaps something like "I want to live forever"? And now, for the first time, something came to my mind. After all, we don't know how many more Zhilmash children got there over all these years, and what they wanted. I remember what I myself could wish for at that age. Is it just the new bike or the dog? Or maybe, for example, to take revenge on a bully? Or become invisible?
I think Nika recognized me.
I never made it to the kiosk. I came back to send you this email. Forgive me if you can, but I only have one chance left, and I must try to save her. I must return her body, return Nika back to our world. There is no worse fate than the one that fell to her. I don't know what the price will be, but it doesn't matter. Even if I have to take her place, I'm ready. After all, it was my fault that the portal closed back then. I'm afraid, it was I who told the legend about the passageway that evening by the fire.
You have a choice, Sasha. Think it over properly. Sometimes it's better to leave things as they are.
I have to go, she's been waiting too long...
submitted by chainsaw_creepy to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.26 15:49 CIAHerpes I found a memorial to a horrifying battle that no one has ever heard of

“To those who fell in the Battle of Scarville,” the stone memorial read. “Your sacrifices were not in vain. October 24th, 1918- October 27th, 1918.” Above the base stood a statue of an American soldier with a round cap and a long rifle with a bayonet attached. His face had a perpetual scowl, his eyes slightly squinted as the statue looked at something far off in the distance. I heard a throat clearing. I looked around in confusion.
“Beautiful memorial, eh?” a voice said from behind me. I turned and saw an ancient-looking man in a suit. His face had so many wrinkles that it reminded me of a raisin. His ears and nose stood out massively on his shaking frame. I wondered just how old this man really was.
“Yes, it certainly is,” I admitted, glancing once more at the shining marble statue which seemed to glow under the bright summer sun. “But what is the Battle of Scarville? I’ve never even heard of it.” The ranger shook his head sadly at this.
“Most of you younger people haven’t,” he said gruffly. “But my family was involved in the Battle of Scarville. If you have a few minutes, I can tell you all about it.” He motioned to a bench next to the statue, one that I could have sworn wasn’t there just a few seconds earlier. I shrugged it off though, admitting to myself that I might have missed it due to the glare of the sun, which was slowly disappearing behind the trees. We both sat down. He told me his name was Franklin, and I told him mine was Ted. We shook after we had introduced ourselves, the small, bird-like bones of his fragile hand feeling almost weightless under my grasp. And then Franklin began to tell me a story that would change my life forever.
I was just a kid when this happened. My father was a soldier in the area, but he never liked to talk about what he did. Then one day, he came running in the living room, his eyes all wide, telling me and my mom to get all our stuff, quick, it was time to go, and all this other nonsense. My mother asks why. He starts screaming gibberish about monsters and this and that. And my mother says the strangest goddamn thing- “Oh, is it that time again?”
Right then, the shaking starts outside.
“Oh, God, it’s too late,” my father says, and he puts his face in his hands, crying. Now, my father was not a man who ever cried. I didn’t even see him cry at my grandfather’s funeral. He was made of stone, one of the toughest men I will ever know. So when he started crying, I knew something bad was happening.
The sky started to go dark, as if there were a solar eclipse. My mom grabs a canvas bag and starts trying to go around the house, grabbing some food and drinks. But my dad yells, says we have no time for that. He tells her to grab his other gun, the 12-gauge in the closet upstairs. He runs downstairs and grabs his rifle, shoving a magazine in it and standing at the door, straight as a board and as pale as a sheet. The sky seemed to go dark, even though it was still over an hour until sunset.
Out of the darkness, I saw silhouettes, stumbling shapes with twisted legs, broken arms, long necks and strange eyes. They continued forward at a much faster pace than any walking man. Their eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and the closer they got, the more hypnotized I felt. There was a strange, pulsating light that came out of their faces, you see. If you stared at it too long, you would get carried away by that light…
My da, though, didn’t hesitate for a moment. He started shooting as soon as they were within range of the 30 odd 6. The nearest one’s head exploded in a shower of dark blood. The rest of them began hissing like snakes and running forwards. My da empties his whole magazine, taking down six of them, then slams and locks the door.
“Where’s that fucking gun?” he screamed. My ma came running down the hallway with the big black thing in one hand and a box full of slugs in the other. He grabs the gun from her hand and gives it to me.
“You know how to shoot, boy,” he says. “Now is the time for you to prove yourself. Protect your family and home.” By this point dozens of those things are slamming on the other side of the door, still hissing and gurgling in some strange language I’ve never heard before. I nodded at my da, and started slamming slugs into the shotgun.
They were practically breaking the door down by this point. The lock had started to bust and twist, and the door was separating from the threshold. A couple more good hits and it would have been all over the floor anyway. I know a good slug will shoot through doors, hell, they’ll shoot through walls, so I point the shotgun at the door, point blank, and begin shooting through the door. Some of those things start screaming and falling over, dead, exit wounds the size of grapefruit in their backs and chests. But the door is in a sorry state by this point, full of massive holes and splintering apart. I had to reload, and they started busting through, coming into the house.
Now that they were close, I could tell they were not human, though from a distance they almost looked human. But they had these strange, pulsating black veins going up their neck and stretching out across their face, and their eyes were all the same silver color, glowing as if they had some inner light. It wasn’t just a reflection, like you see with some animals at night who run in front of your headlights. This light was coming from within them, and it was bright.
Some of them had blood caked around their mouths, running down their clothes and the entire fronts of their bodies. Whose blood, I didn’t yet know, but when I saw the casualties in the town later on, I would figure it out.
Just when I thought we were going to be overwhelmed, my neighbor and some of his family members ran over. He starts screaming at me from the yard, firing his gun at the creatures in a frenzy of violence. He had his two sons with him, and they all had shotguns. They were whooping and hollering, blowing the creatures apart with buckshot. When one of them stopped to reload, the other two would cover them, so that they had a nearly constant rate of fire. My da and I ran out the door, shooting and reloading. I saw the skull of the nearest creature disintegrate as I fired into its head from less than five feet away, but its eyes seemed to hover in the air a moment after it was gone. It reminded me of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, how its face seemed to hang in the air after its body had gone.
By this point, we had finished off the entire group of them. A couple dozen bodies lay around us. My heart was beating and my blood was up. I could almost relate to the sons of my neighbor; part of me wanted to whoop and holler too. Part of it was fun and exciting, even though I knew that one wrong move would mean likely death.
I used the break in the action to move closer to one of the corpses and look at it. In its basic shape, it looked human, but up close, you could tell it was no such thing. For one thing, they all had six fingers on each hand, and they were twisted, long things. They almost looked vampiric- and, as I would find out later, that was right on the money, or at least as close to it as we could understand. Their skin had thin black veins running every which way, and they appeared to all be wearing some sort of coarse brown cloth, formed into shapeless pants and shirts. They even covered their feet with it, though they had some sort of leather on the bottom. It didn’t look like any leather I had ever seen, however. It shone and shimmered, and it looked inflexible and thick. It looked chitinous.
Out in the field, we heard a sound like a screaming woman. It broke the silence and caused us all to jump, spinning around and pointing our guns. But what we saw there was no scared lady. It was some sort of animal, standing over ten feet tall. It looked like some huge praying mantis, except its hide was shiny and black. Massive pinchers extended from the front of its face, big enough to chop a man in half down the middle I reckon. The eyes were huge and black, but as the light moved across them, they seemed to shimmer like rainbows.
“What in God’s name is that?” my da yelled, but the neighbors only shook their heads in amazement. Then one of the boys, a red-headed and skinny lad by the name of Wesley, said something that caught me off guard.
“I saw some of those things coming out of the caves,” he said. I looked at him, eyes wide. So did everyone else. “When I was fishing earlier at the stream. I thought it was just people exploring the tunnels at first, until I saw their eyes and those veins…” His father grabbed his shoulder and shook him.
“When was it?” his father asked him, looking scared and uncertain. “How long ago, son?” His son shook his head slowly, trying to remember.
“An hour ago, maybe,” Wesley said. “As soon as I saw them I started running home, and not five minutes after I got there, they started coming across the yard…”
People from town were running down the road now, screaming in terror and pain. I saw them driven on like herds of sheep, and our giant praying mantis friend also noticed. Its head went up, antennae flicking, head cocked to the side in a way that would have been comical in other circumstances. Its pinchers moved faster, opening and closing constantly, as if it were trying to taste the air. Then it started running. It was just a black blur in the dim light, flying across the yard at an impossible speed. I couldn’t even see its legs moving.
It grabbed the nearest person, a young woman with huge terrified eyes, and used its pincers to snap her head right off. The decapitated head rolled across the ground, an expression of mortal terror still etched into her expression. Then the mantis creature began to suck at the bleeding stump of her neck- drinking until it looked like the body was sucking in on itself, until the skin was pale and bloodless as a mannequin. The other people were stumbling and running around it, still praying and cursing and shrieking, but it took no notice of them. Once it was full, it looked bigger- more swelled up, like a tick. Its chitinous black shell seemed to expand, looking more rounded, and it even looked a little more red in the pale light- as if the blackness of its hide had lightened into a shade of darkest crimson.
“We’re being invaded by vampires!” I screamed. Everyone looked at me, but no one argued. They didn’t even have time to. At that moment, the next wave started.
Our home was on a road with houses every few hundred feet, a forest behind the houses and a grassy field on the other side. The road itself sat between the field and the homes. The trees pressed in on the houses, being only twenty or thirty feet behind them. The woods were old and thick with brush and prickers and endless ferns. It was hard enough to see in it at daytime, but it was now nearly night, and trying to see into it was a fool’s errand.
The enemy used our disadvantage to surprise us. We had all reloaded, of course, and we had five men with guns. I wished I had another one to give to my ma, who stood behind my da, both of them looked scared and far too pale.
I saw it was the mantis creatures that were approaching, though a few of the vampires walked through silently, their eyes glowing. The two apex predators didn’t seem inclined to attack each other. I wondered if maybe the vampires had even domesticated the giant mantis creatures somehow. It didn’t seem likely, but who knew?
We started shooting as soon as they broke the boundary of the woods. The mantis creatures shrieked like dying women, emitting deafening wails as their legs, chests and heads were blown apart by shotgun and rifle fire. But more and more kept coming, and some were now coming from the field and road as well. We were slowly being surrounded, and our ammo was not unlimited.
A vampire ran at my mother. I saw it in slow motion, the creature popping out from the grassy field and sprinting. My father was busy firing that rifle like a madman, trying to keep the mantis creatures from overtaking us. I knew it was a hopeless task. But I could at least save my ma. I raised the shotgun, the vampire only a few feet away from me now, and shot it point-blank in the face.
Its head disintegrated into a mask of gore, droplets of blood flying. My mouth had been open; I was breathing hard, terrified and in the middle of battle fever, you see. And a few droplets of that strange, dark blood splattered directly into my mouth. I hadn’t even realized what had happened until I tasted it. It tasted nothing at all like human blood, nothing like sucking on a cut thumb after a small injury, nothing like the taste of a bloody, rare steak. No, this blood was sweet and somehow cloying. It was an artificial sweetness, like some fake sugar you might put in coffee, combined with a vague metallic aftertaste. I started to spit after I realized what had happened, but by that point, we were being overrun.
My neighbor was ripped apart in front of me, his old, weather-beaten face showing a final expression of shock and horror as a mantis bit him across his body right where his heart lay. Blood spurted from the wound. The mantis gingerly pushed the body parts apart and began to suck at the blood from the spurting injuries. Another followed silently behind and started feeding on the other half. I watched it all in horror, until a hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun and saw Wesley.
“We need to go, now,” he said, pulling me.
“My da and ma and the others!” I screamed. He shook his head. He was closest to me. As we became overrun, the creatures had split us into smaller groups. Wesley’s brother and my ma and da were one of them. We had at least five mantis creatures and a few more vampires between us. As dozens more came running towards us, towards commotion and the prospect of a warm meal, I realized Wesley was right. But I fired all the same, taking down one of the mantis creatures with a slug to the torso. Its dark blood covered the dirt as it squealed and fell over, kicking its legs slowly and rhythmically like a flipped turtle as it died.
My da and Wesley’s brother were still shooting. I thanked God that we each had a sack of ammo. But mine was feeling light. I looked down and saw only a dozen more slugs, maybe. They must be getting low too. I knew I would have to come back for them when things had calmed down. But for now, I fled.
Wesley ran ahead of me, his coarse work clothes flapping in the wind. We sprinted across the yard. I looked back and saw one of the mantis creatures running us down, moving much faster than either of us could ever hope to run. I stopped, turning. It felt like I was facing down a charging train. I raised the gun, and with a shot to the head, I dropped it only ten feet away from me. It kept running for a second, a body without any brain to run it, then it began to fall forward, sliding, its legs kicking and trembling as it died.
He had a shelter behind his house, apparently. It was little more than a root cellar in the backyard of his house, but it was hidden and underground. He pulled the latch on the hatchway, opening it and motioning for me to go first. I ran forward, climbing down the short ladder. He followed, keeping the hatchway open for light while he started a gas lamp with some flint. Once we were situated, he closed the hatch. It was able to be locked from the inside, and was reinforced against tornados, with wood and concrete forming the walls. We also had some supplies down there, water and jars of pickled foods and jerky. Not much variety, but it would do.
We stayed down there for two days. When we came back up, the creatures were gone. They had even taken their dead with them. I didn’t know where they had gone, though I assumed it was back into the caves.
They had left our dead, however. Countless bodies lay all around the surrounding towns. I saw endless dead in the downtown area when I went down there. And I never saw my da or ma again. I never even found their bodies. Perhaps they had been dragged off into the woods, or perhaps the creatures took a few bodies back with them- maybe as souvenirs, or just for some fresh meat.
All of the people who died in the Battle of Scarville were reported as casualties from the Great War, or the Spanish Flu. But those of us who were there know what we saw, and these were no flu victims. Thousands of bodies around the town had all the blood drained from them.
I wonder why those creatures from underground didn’t keep going. After all, they had won the “Battle” of Scarville, which was really just more of a massacre. But then I thought about how deer hunters are only allowed to hunt so many per season, to allow their population to regrow every year. And I thought about those abominations under the earth. And I wondered if maybe, just maybe, they might not be doing the same to us- waiting for the human population to grow for a hundred years or so, then, when the population is fat and healthy and lazy, come back out to feed on the herd.
The old man stopped, clearing his throat and looking over at me. His story had apparently come to an end. He smiled slightly at me, but I kept looking at him suspiciously, waiting for some sort of punchline.
“You realize how insane that whole story sounds?” I asked after a few moments. The old man with his withered face just grinned at me.
And in the dying light of the setting sun, I could have sworn his eyes were glowing.
submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.26 08:17 shockwavequake4 This person posts this kinda stuff all the time.

This person posts this kinda stuff all the time. submitted by shockwavequake4 to insanepeoplefacebook [link] [comments]

2023.05.26 06:04 DropWatcher Drop Watch: May 26th, 2023





and (unsorted):
Bold songs drop at midnight
Songs in bold came out at midnight
* means not on Apple Music or Spotify
Sorted by Spotify Monthly Listeners

Old Drop Watches

Full Calendar

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2023.05.25 03:44 cheriaspen It is Robert Kennedy's Fate Come Full Circle to be President as Only He Knows the Score

It is Robert Kennedy's Fate Come Full Circle to be President as Only He Knows the Score
Thank God for Robert Kennedy Jr and his foundation . He has already been doing more for Americans for decades that most all the other politicians rolled into one.
Not perfect, no, but he admits it! He admits his ' skeletons in the closet" as he put it. And he challenges people to prove him wrong and if so, " I'll change my mind". And I witnessed him doing that during an interview on his Defender News Show on CHDTV, the best source based uncontrolled daily news on Earth.
Seriously check it out. He purposely has experts on that he may not totally agree with but has never had the opportunity to really talk to the person. So he does! He learns, and sometimes admits he was incorrect, and changes his mind. A very rare trait.
So much ego in our world, not Bobby Kennedy; he really is a humble man most of the time. And when he answers the question why is he running? He tells it how it is: "Because I have no choice" He just flat-out knows he is really the only human on Earth right now who grew up in training for just this moment in time. I mean look what he went through with his Dad, age-14 shot to death in L.A. after his favorite loving Uncle! Have you ever watched the funerals? JFK's miles-long-funeral was so very united in love & honor & Spirit & sharing some horrible intuition that ‘everything’ had changed; and not for the good. Every TV was tuned in. There has probably not been such a funeral before or since. Then Bobby Sr’s, then 911 and now this Covid Agenda.
All planned obviously, as that it the only explanation now we see all the pieces of the puzzle. Like a psy-phy movie we cannot turn off, that we are all in. Each playing our part to help save mankind. An overwhelmingly heavy burden. Too few are carrying the load, braving the truth instead for too many who are choosing to be fooled.
Like the good Jewish people and others herded onto cattle cars to death camps. They obeyed without any resistance. Why? They outnumbered the Nazi soldiers 500 to 1 at least.They could have turned on them, overtaken them and their machine guns and killed them. This was explained by Nazi Holocaust camp survivor Vera Sharav and many others who survived the Third Reich in their recent 5 part documentary- “Never Again Is Now Global” also produced by CHD.
Ms. Sharav states we must learn from that and NOT OBEY as 5 billion have getting injection with an experiment that does not allow the ingredients to be known. That the Pfizer Docs now out prove they knew it Killed, and rolled it out via our DOD Kennedy knows this weaponization has occurred. He interviewed Sasha Latipova Pharma Insider Analysist of Contracts and documents. The DOD calls it a ‘ counter measure’ the term for a weapon. A bio-weapon. Kennedy knows this. As do the Russians.
Maybe Kennedy would be advised to wear the lastest in bullet proof clothes and helmet. No other candidate is speaking the total truth to power. Let's challenge Bill Gates to a debate with Kennedy. That! Would be entertainment.
Robert Kennedy Jr. is a top environmental lawyer and his idea of ‘the-friggin over-used, many-definitions- climate-change’ term & issue is way different than the World Economic Forum or the World Health Organization and criminals Gates, etc. He is not a choked on woke Democrat. He is a Kennedy Democrat- Big Difference. His view is to stop polluting; he knows there have been heat and cool cycles. He has really made a difference in the Hudson water ways where fish were too mercury-filled to eat. That's a good thing. Bobby is for organic farms that of course do not need artificial nitrogen fertilizers. Go look up The Bare-Foot Farmer in Tennessee. Perfect natural balance, excellent abundant food, all organic. No pesticides. And it's so much easier and less expensive, no pollution naturally. That is what Mr. Kennedy is about. Common sense based upon natural laws and obvious science. The kind we all learned by 6th grade.
Robert says that term 'climate change is being used as an excuse for control.’ He knows this. Better than any other candidate, he knows the science. The real science as he has been suing all our agencies when he has to provide proof.
Plus he is physically fit all his life, white water river rafting, falconing, sailing, running, swimming; still. And that my dear citizens is also a rare trait. People do not consider physical fitness enough. Look at Biden compared to Bobby. Ha! Although Bobby is 69 , he looks 15 years younger than his counterpart. When we are physically fit, we are also more mentally fit, & happy. And that is the Quotient that also is not talked about and should be. Our Right to the Pursuit of Happiness. Happiness Surveys need to go out. And ending any involvement in foreign private corporations of the W.H.O and W.E.F. And stop all funding, put those billions as well into our infrastructure , end all homeless. Again that Happiness Quotient.
Well, I know you will think I am silly, but truly, I am one of those seriously empathic people, sometimes more of a curse. And I just had a feeling he should run. I am a vetted CHD Volunteer here in San Diego. I wrote him in on my last ballot and wrote him two letters asking him to please run. I am sure many did.
In closing folks, its my opinion that it is his Spiritual- Fate come full circle to lead us out of this darkness into the light of sunshine and real transparency to being anew. Start over, fresh.
Bobby will reopen the investigations into the murders of his Dad and Uncle, who were precious to the world. He will bring home our troops, heal them. Have only a Peace-Time really wel- equipped defense ready military. And really take care of them.
Revitalize the Army Corps of Engineers to rebuild our infrastructure using solar wisely and installing fiber optic cable nationwide removing all radiation towers for our computers and such. Testing all technology for harms as has never been done. 4G & 5G is used by the Pentagon for crowd control. And just one call damages a kid's brain. Use gas cars, electric, hydrogen, let the people chose what works for them. Kennedy says let the free-market chose. Naturally.
Imagine a debate with Kennedy and Trump. I'd love to see that, so far, they are too scared to debate Kennedy. They know, that he knows, they are not speaking total truth to power as he is. And probably could not hold their own in a live debate when confronted with what Kennedy is speaking out on.
Calling out the C.I.A for the murder of his uncle knowing, he has the lifelong researched proof, is certainly confident. And will heal us like no one else has the courage to try.
Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts from my heart. United We Stand as brothers and sisters across the world. We all want the same thing, peace and good health and happiness.
With Peace,
Cheri, A Grandma fighting for our Children's futures.
submitted by cheriaspen to RFK_2024 [link] [comments]

2023.05.25 00:56 PearlTarly Emma Tarly, Lady of Horn Hill, Wielder of Heartsbane

Reddit Account: PearlTarly
Discord Tag: jade#8765
Name and House: Emma Tarly
Age: 26
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Soft-faced and smooth-featured, Emma Tarly doesn’t look much like a fierce warrior - especially when clutching a book of some sort. But with Heartsbane in hand, clad in steel, and with the fire and passion in her eyes that shows that she has something she’s fighting for? It’s hard to think she was ever anything else. She stands just above average height, at five feet and eight inches, with dark brown hair that is left loose at court and braided back in battle, and she is notably muscular too. Wielding one of Westeros’ largest swords is no easy task, after all. It requires focus and determination - and that is something that Emma has in spades.
Trait: Brave
Skill(s): Two-Handed Weapons (e), Armored (e), Footwork (e), Reckless (e)
Talent(s): Reading, Poetry, Sprinting
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Lady of Horn Hill
Starting Location: Highgarden
Alternate Characters: Alysanne Velaryon


On a warm day in the Reach, like any other, Emma Tarly entered the world. Daughter of Galyeon Tarly, heir to Horn Hill, and his wife Desmera, a scion of Oldtown, she was a strong child. The very embodiment of the glory of two of the Reach’s most prominent and powerful houses.
She became heir to Horn Hill soon after her birth, as the Reach went to war in Dorne, assisting the Faith. Leading the men of House Tarly, Lord Titus fought bravely. He died bravely too, slain in a duel against a warrior of the Red God who gave no quarter.
Birth was followed by death, then was followed, slowly, by three more births. First was Leo, a weak and thin child, who was almost lost to his parents. Second was Dorian, who seemed to be even stronger than his elder sister, the kind of boy that their father would have been glad to have as an heir. Last was Talla, the first and only child of the pair who did not have either great or terrible expectations.
Emma’s life was an odd one. As the eldest child, she was heir, next in line to Horn Hill. Her younger brother was weak, unable to wield a sword like their father would want. So Emma was forced down a strange path. Galyeon Tarly was a traditionalist, the kind of man who would sniff at a woman who fought like a man.
But he was also the kind of man who would die before his heir did not follow in his footsteps. And so he placed a sword in his daughter’s hands the moment they were big enough to hold one, and bid her swing it. Emma had a love for books and poems, one she shared with her brother Leo, but she found herself forced to crush that beneath the weight of her father’s intentions. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the drills, the fights, or putting squires into the dirt at such a young age. It was just that she didn’t enjoy being forced to enjoy it. Around her, Emma’s siblings embraced their passions. Leo found himself learning to manage the accounts of Horn Hill, as Dorian watched her in the training yard, and Talla… did as babies do.
For a while, even though she envied her siblings’ freedom, she was happy with them. But eventually, she reached the end of her ability to remain at home. Galyeon could not train her properly, and her inability to agree with his methods made her a problem for him. So she was sent off to Goldengrove, to train under someone who could actually handle her.
That man was Bors Rowan. He was not a particularly traditional knight, and realistically Galyeon should have despised him. But to ensure his daughter reached greatness, he would sacrifice his own comfort. She was ostensibly a ward, there to carry wine cups and clean boots, or whatever. But in truth, she was a squire.
And she wasn’t the only one. Leona Roxton, the second child of the Lord of the Ring, was a girl like her. She was strong, with a skill for battle. They were kindred spirits. With slightly different circumstances, yet similar results, Leona and Emma became friends quickly. And soon enough, they caught each other's eyes. It was hard to understand that. She’d been taught about love, and betrothals, when she was young. Girls sometimes fell in love with boys, and boys with girls. That was the way of it. But her heart had never quickened in pace for the squires and stableboys of Horn Hill. Only ever for Leona.
It was a feeling they shared, one they confessed to each other. And for years, they shared in their passions and their duties. Emma was a quiet girl, due in part to the fact the things she loved had been squashed down in her youth. Leona was louder, more boisterous. They brought their opposite sides out to each other. Emma’s passion for writing, for poetry - something she found herself truly delving into as she fell in love - and Leona’s love for animals ended up being ways they grew closer.
Eventually, their time at Goldengrove came to an end. Leona and Emma’s skill at arms, and their love, had bloomed together. There was nothing more that Bors could teach them, and thus they returned home. That did not mean, however, that they parted ways. When Leona’s father passed, Emma was there to mourn with her. And whenever she could, she rode to the Ring, or Leona rode to Horn Hill, or whatever was easiest.
In the year 197, Emma’s own father fell ill. Though he expected to make a recovery, he could not bear to see Heartsbane sit idly in his quarters. It stood to reason that he bestowed it, at least until he was healthy, upon the one he had chosen to wield it. Emma accepted, though reluctantly. She was a warrior now, but she was not bold like Galyeon Tarly. She was not Leona.
But she proved her worth soon enough. Ormond, the son of her uncle Bayard, believed he was worthy of the sword in her father’s place. He was a greater warrior, he assumed. Better than a woman, at least. With this misconception in mind, he challenged the heir to Horn Hill to a duel for Heartsbane. Emma accepted it, and fought her cousin to first blood. That stipulation proved wise. Only two swings of her sword were needed for red to run, and Ormond to yield.
It was not the last duel she would fight for the sword, either. Emma found herself on good terms with her siblings after her return. With Galyeon bedridden, Leo and his sister began to rule as a duo, whilst Talla assisted them where she could. It was only Dorian, a warrior like Emma, who felt out of place. He could fight, but no better than his sister. And he was not to be Lord of Horn Hill, either.
Eventually his frustration came to a head. It had a morbid catalyst. In the wake of the abdication of Lady Cynthea Tyrell, and the selection of Lady Aurola as her successor, Galyeon Tarly passed away. He did not recover from his wasting sickness, dying on the road home to Horn Hill. Whether he was a good father or not, Emma could not be sure. But he was mourned. Now Lady of Horn Hill, there was little time for Emma to weep for her father. Incensed by the loss, Dorian challenged her to a duel. Horn Hill, and Heartsbane, were on the line. It was a foolish competition.
But Emma let that rare passion overtake her. She accepted, at the funeral of her father, a duel to first blood. Dorian stood a greater chance against her than Ormond, and the duel was three times as long as a result. But a greater chance was still small.
Heartsbane left him with a foul scar, one that wounded his spirit more than anything, and proved once and for all that Emma Tarly was Lady of Horn Hill. She would brook no opposition.
With her father laid to rest, and the realm shifting, Emma has returned to court life in the Reach. It is a chance to further her house’s power. It is a chance to test her strength. And it’s a chance to see Leona.


  • 174 AC - Emma Tarly is born to Ser Galyeon Tarly and his wife Desmera Hightower.
  • 175 AC - Lord Titus Tarly is slain in the war with Dorne, and Galyeon becomes Lord of Horn Hill. His second child, Leo Tarly, is born.
  • 179 AC - Galyeon and Desmera’s third child and youngest son, Dorian, is born.
  • 182 AC - With the birth of a second daughter, Talla, Galyeon turns his attention to ensuring his heir fulfils his expectations. Emma begins to train with a sword, and finds herself skilled with it.
  • 183 AC - Emma is sent off to Goldengrove to ward under Ser Bors Rowan.
  • 185 AC - In her time under the Rowan’s tutelage, Emma finds herself interested in her fellow ward, Leona Roxton. What begins as a fast friendship becomes something more over time.
  • 193 AC - Now a greater warrior than her father, the heir to Horn Hill returns home. Though her and Leona ostensibly part ways, she continues to make excuses to visit the woman she loves.
  • 197 AC - Galyeon Tarly falls ill, temporarily bestowing Heartsbane upon his daughter. He expects to recover. He never manages to.
  • 198 AC - Emma’s cousin, Ormond, challenges her to a duel over the right to wield the family’s greatsword. He doesn’t land a hit on her, as she proves her worthiness.
  • 200 AC - Galyeon Tarly passes away on the road back from the council at Cider Hall, having failed to attend any business there due to his illness. In grief, Emma is challenged again for Heartsbane by her younger brother Dorian. He too fails to match up to the new Lady of Horn Hill. After returning home to see her father to rest, she heads to Highgarden.

Family Tree


Supporting Characters

  • Lady Dowager Desmera Hightower - Medic NPC - Born in 153 AC, Desmera is the mother of Lady Emma Tarly. She is an educated woman, a proud daughter of Oldtown, who has spent time training with Archmaesters and Septons alike. With skills learnt in her home, and from patching up the wounds of her children - those gained in the training yard and the more truly violent pursuits of later years - Desmera has the ability to save a life, if she has to.
  • Ser Leo Tarly - Trader NPC - Born in 175 AC, Leo is the younger brother of the Lady of Horn Hill. Where Emma is a warrior, strong of spirit and body, Leo is a scholar, a mathematician, a man who has never lifted a sword in his life besides to move it. That does not stop him from being dangerous, though. After all, a man who knows his numbers can stop you from ever getting close.
  • Ser Dorian Tarly - Tourney Knight NPC - Born in 179 AC, Dorian is the youngest son of the late Lord Galyeon, a warrior - and a traditionalist - like his father. In a way, he is Emma’s rival, a swordsman who has eyes for Heartsbane and the legacy of their predecessor. But when the chips fall, he is a Tarly. He serves the Lady of Horn Hill, though he might grumble about it.
  • Talla Tarly - Castellan NPC - Born in 182 AC, Talla has no business being the most large-scale, military-minded of the four Tarly siblings. She is a young woman barely into adulthood, but she has a skill for defence that rivals some of the greatest guard captains the realm has to offer.
  • Ser Bayard Tarly - General NPC - Born in 154 AC, Bayard is the Lady of Horn Hill’s uncle, a veteran of the war with Dorne. He was there as his father perished in the sands, leading his troops in the wake of Lord Titus’ death. Since then, he has commanded the armies of House Tarly without complaint. He is a father, a loyal man, and a man willing to do what must be done. Having served three generations of his family as second, Bayard is not an ambitious man. There is no room for ambition in a head full of strategy.
  • Ser Ormond Tarly - Warrior NPC (Swords) - Born in 178 AC, Ormond believes himself to be quite the prodigy. Ser Bayard’s eldest child is no poor fighter, in truth, but he is a man far too big for his boots. That does not make him a problem, though. With ambition like his cousin Dorian’s, and even less right to it, Ormond’s desire to prove his greatness makes him an even stronger asset to his house. There is nothing sly about Ser Ormond. He is a known quantity, and that makes him - in an odd way - a man his cousin can trust.
  • Maris Tarly - Marksman NPC - Born in 180 AC, Maris is the eldest daughter of Ser Bayard, and has an eye for accuracy. Where many of the fighters of her family find themselves sword-to-sword with their enemies, Maris provides the tactical mind and skilled aim that turn an archer from an annoyance to a threat. In a way, there is not a Tarly that embodies the house more than her, bow drawn and arrow aimed. That is not something most have time to consider, as point, haft, and fletching sail toward them.
submitted by PearlTarly to ITRPCommunity [link] [comments]

2023.05.25 00:07 Aoh03 What the actual fuck? Half my family just died in one year.

What the actual fuck? Half my family just died in one year. submitted by Aoh03 to BitLifeApp [link] [comments]

2023.05.24 23:22 FarmWhich4275 For The Fallen

"Captain! Unidentified warp signature, sector 7-1!" The communications officer yelled out, breaking the calm of the station.
"All crews to stations! All hands on deck!" Captain Tarrin yelled out, standing proud on the deck.
Within minutes, every man and woman on board was at full alert, out of their quarters and away from the comfort of their Cassarin Crystal displays and at the cold steel and polymer that was their assigned station.
"Warp signature is growing... detecting capital class ship. Approximate size at eleven hundred meters."
"Eleven hundred!? That's a dreadnought! Shields to maximum power!" Tarrin commanded. He was now definitely concerned. Border disputes were common especially with the Sarrantis nearby, so this may very well be a raid. "Sarrantis bastards might be hitting us with a surprise attack! Call for reinforcements!"
"Warp signature is getting stronger. Bubble collapse in three... two... one... target sighted."
The beast that appeared from that wormhole was not a Sarrantis warship... It was.... nothing like had ever been seen before. A massive beast the size of a small city, over a kilometer long bristling with massive cannons. The armor plating was a dark grey in color, mixed with red and gold trimming and detailing. At its front sat a massive terrifying effigy of some kind of creatures skull.
The broadsides were covered in a strange emblem or marking. The emblem was a flag in black, gold and red, with a seven pointed star at the center of a large gear wheel. A black background, the gear wheel being of stitched gold and the star being of a very menacing scarlet red. We could very clearly make out that every inch of the ships hull was covered in thousands of letters and symbols, clearly denoting a language.
The closer it got, the less it scared us, and the more it awed us. Every single part, piece and component of this ship was handcrafted to a legendary quality. Thousands of small statues covered its surface, every armor plate covered in either a sort of holy seal or written text etched into the armor in gold or red. It approached the station where i stood on the bridge alongside the Captain.
It was at this point our communications failed. The radio chatter cut into dead silence, replaced by one of the most hauntingly beautiful voices I, or anyone has ever heard. It was a language none of us could even begin to comprehend, but the voice that spoke it sent us into a delerium. Every radio, every screen, every communications array across the entire system now played this song.
The sounds of multiple voices began to join the cacophony, a dozen voices singing in perfect unison with two speaking words, the others simply humming or maintaining a chord to carry the song. It was a song that filled all who heard it with an intense feeling of sadness, loss and mourning. One that few of us had ever felt before. The ship slipped effortlessly through the maw of space, closing the gap and finally coming to a rest near the station. Its underbelly opened up, and out came another ship. A very badly damaged ship.
The massive ornate beast moved away from the station, then pulled a turn that would have easily sheared any ship we had clean in half. It sat there in silent vigil as if waiting for the music to end. That haunting, beautiful sound continued for seven minutes. On the plants surface, thousands of men, women, children, even the normally stoic Admiralty were in tears. Soldiers in formation prepared for invasion were standing at attention at their posts, involuntarily giving a salute.
Then the song changed, an increase in tempo and a change in tone suddenly had all who heard it filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Officers wiped the tears of sadness from their faces and replaced them with a sense of pride and tears of joy. Crying younglings in the streets now had smiles on their faces. An overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment smashed into the populace like a tide of water and ice.
The warships we asked for arrived but did nothing, coming close to the ship, scanning it or just looking at it, awestruck. As if a god had suddenly struck a chord in our souls and commanded us to shut up and listen. The song finally ended. Just as abruptly as it arrived, the ship sped off, then vanished into the darkness through a warp portal. All communications returned to full functionality. I moved closer to the viewing screen, wiping the tears from my face as I tried to regain my composure. It was then I noticed what it had left behind.
"By the Gods!!! Is that the Poliakko!?" I exclaimed, finally noticing the badly damaged ship near the station.
"What!?" Captain Tarrin and several others got up from their stations and rushed to the viewing port.
Indeed, it was. The Poliakko. One of our exploration ships carrying the best and brightest of our species, lost to the empty void of space decades prior. Our first real exploration ship, a shattered hulk of scrap and twisted metal, covered in seals and mysterious emblems. The ship itself seemed unable to function, such was the damage, so it appeared to have been secured by some kind of metal beam casing that probably stopped it disintegrating.
We went into a frantic panic and swarmed the derelict. i rushed in, just behind a boarding team wearing pressure suits. We entered the ships main cargo bay. The sight that greeted us broke us and sent us into despair.
Coffins. Two hundred and forty seven coffins, perfectly laid out in the cargo bay, bathed in a soft blue light from a series of ornate light posts that created artificial flames like candles. Each coffin had a viewing port on it, in which you could perfectly see the face of its occupant. Some members looked around and tried to open the devices, believing its occupants were still alive.
I looked around and my eye caught the glint of silver in one of the boxes. I rushed towards it. The glint of silver belonged to an all too familiar necklace. I collapsed on the floor, reaching out for one last hug as I saw the face of my lost granddaughter. I began to sob uncontrollably and others rushed towards me to see if I was okay.
I was not.
Needless to say It was a matter of severe shock as to what we encountered. It took us a few months to sort through and collate the data we acquired. Mostly because we were busy burying the dead.
The coffins were made of a polycarbonate substance similar in structure to an artificial wood substrate. Various toxic but otherwise inert fluids were used in the bodies to prevent or at least slow decomposition. The bodies were preserved and positioned in such a manner that it seemed as though the occupants were 'asleep' instead of dead. We confirmed that it was somewhat jarring to find them in this state, but also... calming.
Once proper funeral services were conducted, questions began to fly. It was an insult to the dead to try get a sample of the fluid used for preservation, so scientists began to attempt to create their own using the minimal data we did have. Some families attempted to 'volunteer' their relatives to the cause, we rejected every attempt and swore an oath to never let this act be wasted. We laid our greatest heroes to rest a month after the First Encounter and got back to work.
What was that ship? Scans collected from every ship that could scan it or any crew that could operate despite the circumstances showed us a few things. It was made of an extremely advanced alloy we couldnt dare replicate, showing highly advanced design that could completely ignore laser fire. Shield strength readings were ten times what our flagship could output.
It was producing energy readings that were absurd by any standards, a few of the gas giants in our home system couldn't produce that much energy. Weapons systems from what little we could gather would outclass every ship in the fleet a hundred times over. Kinetic bombardment cannons, ballistic munitions cannons, beam weapons, point defense laser arrays and we could, from photographs, determine the outline of launch bays for thousands of missiles and rockets.
What was the language? The tech was on the outside beyond absurd. So... how did they gain access to our entire communications network? No trace of any signal was ever found. No means of entry was ever located. We have no idea how they seized our entire communications system, then used it to sing. What language was it? It wasn't much to work with but our translation algorithms and software designated the language as 'Latin' and began to translate the song.
In the meantime we started combing through the flight logs of the exploration ship. A simple accident involving a meteorite collision on exiting warp too close to an asteroid field. Twenty four crew members were left to die o starvation or exposure, while the rest died on impact or within a few minutes due to suffocation. I broke down in tears several times during the investigation on seeing recordings of my granddaughter with the crew.
Finally after a fair amount of time and several unfortunate breakdowns, the algorithm finished its translation.
"It is better to celebrate a life well lived and the impact it has had on those around it,
than it is to mourn a life that has been lost.
So long as you are remembered,
so long as your footsteps are still where your path has lead you, death is meaningless.
Only those forgotten are truly dead.
So long as you are remembered, so long as you were loved, you are immortal.
So long as your impact is maintained,
So long as the shadow of the tree you planted still remains, You are Immortal.
So long as you are loved, you had a greater impact on the universe than the death of a thousand suns.
In memory of the fallen.
To those who came before and gave all they had to those who are now. We salute you.
In memory of the fallen.
To those who bled in wars long past. We salute you.
Together to the future.
We shall not let your sacrifice, however small be wasted.
Together to the void.
We shall carry on in your footsteps and let your thunderous voices be heard.
Together to Eternity.
Raise a glass to those before and share your bread with those who are now.
Together to victory.
Together to the Void, us against eternity. We shall not falter.
Rest in peace. For your work is done.
Rest in peace, for it is our turn now.
Rest in peace, for your greatness now shines through us.
We are those you fought for, those you died for, those you lived for.
We are the future. WE SHALL NOT FALTER.
Together to the future! Together to the Void! Together, for all eternity!
These simple words broke the Empire. Literally broke us. In front of a delegation of our best warriors, one of our generals collapsed into tears. Our Emperor confined himself to the temple for a week, refusing any food as a penance. Holy sites such as temples and graveyards suddenly became flooded with tens of thousands of people. Apologies and confessions of sins and crimes flooded the network, with former crime bosses and criminal gangs walking into police stations and locking themselves in prisons.
Our entire society changed. All because of this one ship. This... gesture. An act of kindness for the families of these lost and a mark of respect for the dead. Who? Why?
As much as recent revelations changed us, we were still at war with an enemy two star systems away. We quickly got back into focus. Some weeks after this however... that all came to an abrupt conclusion.
I was up in the defense station, overseeing trade deals with some old allies when a mass alert rang out. It was a Saranai fleet. Hundreds of warships suddenly appeared at our borders. Then hundreds more. Then more than that. then... far too many. Even if we called up our entire reserve, not only would they not get here in time, there's no way in oblivion we would survive.
We wouldn't go down without a fight. Damn them to oblivion, we would take as many of them with us as we could! Well... that's what we thought at least. Until that bastard flagship of theirs warped in behind them. The planetkiller. The one that destroyed Kessarn Prime at the start of the war. Thankfully it wasn't too heavily populated but... it was no less of a loss.
The fleet assembled before us was too much. Whatever fight we had, it would wipe us out. They hailed us and the Emperor himself Juhad Val'Hem was on board the flagship. "I demand your presence on board my flagship. Bring your emperor to me now."
"To discuss terms of surrender I'm guessing?" I said flippantly, trying to stall for time.
A laser beam shot out of the flagships support fleet. "That was a warning shot. I shall NOT ask again." He commanded.
I relayed the message to my own Emperor Affahid The Seventh. Within the hour he and I were on board a shuttle on the way to their emissary barge. The Emperor Juhad was sitting on his grandiose throne in front of us, an expression of rage on his face as we approached. Juhad, the red skinned, and Affahid, the blue skinned. We are a species of roughly similar features with those of blue skin being slightly shorter but stronger, while our red skinned foes have greater intellect but larger stature.
"Affahid... we meet again."
The two men regarded each other as we stood in the halls, the meeting broadcast for all to witness. A moment of tense and absolute silence, so much so the sneeze of a rodent could be heard twelve systems away.
Emperor Juhad's expression changed as he broke the silence, dropping to his knees, prostrating himself before my Emperor and began to cry copious tears. "PLEASE FORGIVE US!!!!" He cried as his tears stained the ground.
Affahid was now stood silent, his jaw agape at the sight of a generations old enemy suddenly dropping to the floor in tears. A warrior king, reduced to a blubbering mess in front of his empires subjects. Affahid and I looked at each other in confusion for a moment, before Juhad finally stpped his blubbering long enough to eek out a coherent statement.
"How many brother? How many!? How many lives have been wasted with this conflict? How many of our sons and daughters have we sent to their deaths!? It was all for nothing! NOTHING!!! IT WAS ALL A LIE!!" He yelled in between sobs.
Juhad pressed a button and holographic screens appeared, laying bare evidence that nearly made me pass out. The first image laying out the displayed and carefully preserved remains. Among them - pictures of crew members carefully preserved in the same pristine coffins.
The crew members all had a mixture of Blue and Red skin. And among them, a young mother holding a child - with PURPLE skin.
"Liars and traitors! Murderers and criminals all of them! When we thought the ships lost we were told it was your doing! They fabricated everything and sent us into a mad pointless war against our own kin! They have been smote from this universe with as much malice as I could muster! I come here to pay for my recklessness and sanity! My own daughter was among those ships!"
Juhad sat on his knees with his head bowed and presented his arms up as if he was ready for arrest. "FORGIVE ME!!!"
Affhaid stood stunned for a moment then reached down and grabbed one of Juhads hands, pulling him to his feet and embracing him, both men in tears. "You are forgiven... Brother."
Some months passed, and our mutual war had been all but forgotten. Reparations from both sides were forgotten simply out of the need to bring peace. A new chapter in our history began. But through all this, one question remained. Why?
Juhads own fleets were met with the same kind of ship we encountered on that fateful day. The same markings, scripts and even the same haunting music. Only the one they encountered was much, MUCH larger. It was on the anniversary of our first year as an alliance, we got our answer.
A communication tech from one of our security cruisers barged into the Grand Hall causing a commotion and evaded the guards to approach Emperor Juhad and Affhaid. She was extremely agitated, but he had a curious smile on his face.
"What is the meaning of this!?" Juhad yelled, his temperance unchanged from his previous rule.
"I found it! I got a signal back!" She yelled excitedly.
"Found what?"
"The Temperance launched a gathering of signal probes toward the ship that retrieved the Poliakko. One of them managed to attach itself somehow to the armor plating and we got a signal back twenty minutes ago!" She squealed excitedly.
She quickly gathered her portable equipment and brought up a galaxy map, highlighting a particular point in a far flung segment of the galaxy. The marker designated the systems name as 'Sol'.
The signal was a bit garbled but eventually the technician, still keeping us on the edge of our seats, in my ase literally, as she tried to recover something. "Ah! I got it! The probe took a few pictures." She said excitedly.
A button was pressed and the image that greeted us shattered our fragile hearts. There were THOUSANDS of those ships, each one in a varying state of destruction, disuse or decay. Each one bearing a plaque, on which were written hundreds of names. On each ship, a metal plate was welded wherever it could. Each plate had the phrase:
'Death is not that which must be feared. It is a companion that we must take in our stride. Gone but never forgotten, lest more be lost. NEVER FORGET.'
It was a graveyard. A massive, massive star system sized graveyard. Our hearts sank as the probe performed a bioscan and found only silence. A closer look at the nearest ship revealed it to be almost entirely automated despite the damage it sustained. Our military commanders were now seriously worried and wondered what could have caused any damage at all to these ships as they murmured amongst themselves.
We cycled through some of the pictures the probe took as more of them arrived through the data stream. Photos of larger swathes of the system showed countless derelict starships anchored in place around the entire star system by artificial gravity hooks. Derelicts of innumerable manufacture and quantity, not made by the locals but by countless other races. Thousands upon thousands of ships, ranging in size from fighters to multi-mile long titans.
Megastructures of any conceivable kind surrounded every planetary body. Refineries, Military installations, matryoshka brains, massive megastations and what looked to be a stellar ignition unit lying shattered and broken around one of the gas giants. This entire star system appears to be a massive graveyard, but it looked far from dead. However, one thing that puzzled us was... where is everybody? All we could make out were automated drones and machines. No people. At least... none that were alive.
We cycled through more astonishing pictures, until I finally pointed and yelled "THERE!!! Right there! See it?"
Everyone looked carefully at my fingertip and spotted the clear sight of a bipedal creature in a thick mechsuit, welding a memorial plate to a ships hull. "By the ancients... I do!" Juhad said.
"What is it? Two arms, a head, two legs. Even in that mechsuit I can tell that much. Do you have anything that shows it up close?" Affhaid asked the technician.
"No my Lord uh, that's the last photo I have. We are still getting more. The next one will get here in a bout two minutes. Then its another eight for the data to collate and process. We are working as fast as we can." She replied, trying to keep calm.
"In the meantime... Captain Tarrin? Ready our ship and plot a course to that system. I have an idea." I said out loud and excused myself from the table.
"Wait! The last photo is ready. I have it here... now."
The final photograph loaded. We were startled out of our seats as the strange creature was now in front of the optical lens, staring straight into it. Its mouth was curved upwards in what was clearly a smile. Its eyes were a haunting beautiful brown, but even with a cursory glance one could feel a heavy, saddened burden emanating from his expression.
"THAT... is what's there? Why..." Juhad spoke.
"Why does it look like us... only... without the pointy ears and the... pink skin?" Affhaid replied, finishing the statement.
The journey took us six months. Sol was a hundred and forty seven jumps from home, but we were set for the long haul as Juhad gave us one of his Heavy Battleships, retrofitting it for an extended journey instead of me struggling with my old diplomatic Frigate. I had with me on the bridge General Hakim and Admiral Gohan, along with Captains Tarrin and Soren, alongside me was my fellow Diplomat, Master Ragan.
We were moments away from entering the system around the planetoid designated 'Pluto' and the atmosphere was palpable. "I dont like this. I dont like it one bit." General Hakim spoke above the din as he stood at the viewing port.
"Neither do I. What the hell are you doing with that?" Admiral Gohan asked and gestured to the bouquet of flowers I was holding.
"Dont worry. I have a plan. Just let me do all the talking. The probe secured some datafiles and other things from the Poliakko. I know what I'm doing." I smiled at them, though I will admit it did nothing to calm the atmosphere.
"Exiting hyperlane in... Three... two... One... Entry!" The ships pilot yelled out, grabbing everyones attention.
The ship popped into existence just beyond the systems perimeter. Within moments of our appearance, we had ten dreadnoughts appear and aim their cannons at us. The voice of a machine hijacked our communications and a holographic image of a machine-like eyeball appeared in front of us on the bridge. It tracked us. Clearly, very advanced tech if they could project their holograms through our shields straight into our hulls.
I spoke in response. "We are here to pay respects to the dead. One of our ships is recorded to be here. We wish to speak to the one in charge here to recover that ship and bring it home." I made sure to hold the flowers up so it could clearly see.
A series of bright holographic arrows appeared and our Pilot took the initiative, moving us through the pathway. We looked around and took in the sights. Some of these ships were massive. We ran a basic scan while we could, one such ship was over twenty miles long and nearly four miles in height and width. Most of the megastructures and giant stations were intact and appeared fully funcional, though a bioscan done still produced no lifesigns. Only machines. Millions upon millions of machines.
A few minutes later, the Admiral pointed towards our destination: Retributions Kiss, a ship Juhad lost a few decades ago. A ship full of heroes. "I knew It! I knew I saw that ship on the feed!" I exclaimed as we got closer.
((For the sake of the read, the song I was listening to as i wrote this is Beautiful Oblivion by Scott Buckley. It seemed to fit perfectly))
Our comms suddenly cut, and were replaced with music. Beautiful, somber, sad music. We docked with the ship with a thud. The Retributions Kiss had its entire aft section destroyed, several holes punctured through most of the rear superstructure and a starboard thruster pod looked like it had been on fire. A somber mood overcame us all as I headed to the airlock.
On entering I was immediately greeted by the sight of more of those precious coffins, each one ornately decorated with its occupant appearing sound asleep. I approached fully aware I was no longer alone as the crew followed and placed the flowers I was carrying on one of the coffins. Everyone else followed suit, and soon the entire crew save a few needed volunteers had come out with their own bunch of flowers.
We each stood with our heads bowed as we silently uttered a prayer for our fallen brethren. It was only now we noticed the figure standing in the room, its hands in front of it with its head low. We continued for a minute or so more, placing more flowers and allowing Scholars to take notes of names for the dead. I motioned to the being at the opposite end of the room if we culd pick them up and take them home. It simply nodded in agreement and I called for us to quietly carry the coffins on board the Battleship.
I stood by and waited as each body was carried away. The music finally ended. I looked to my left, now noticing the creature standing next to me. It was a clear two feet shorter than I was. I could now clearly see more of its features, obscured as they were by the robe he wore. Definitely a male, five fingers instead of our four. A small tuft of hair atop its head with more on its face, grown long and grey, instead of completely bald like us. Rounded, short ears instead of jagged edges like us.
"A simple lesson to learn, but one that has no lesser impact. Never forget, lest we lose more. Never forget, lest they be gone forever."
I waited a moment to respond, allowing my translation unit to work. "You are... the Gravekeeper, the machines told us about?"
"Aye, that I be. The name is Grimm. Or at least, I think it is. Its been a while since I needed to care. About a thousand four hundred years to be exact." He said looking up at me.
"Can you... explain that?" I asked, trying my best to be polite.
"Look son, I know why you are here as much as I do, so lets not sugarcoat it. Ive done this for far too long now so I will cut to the chase. You are here only because you saw one of your own ships, but lets face mit. You came here to do more than just recover bodies." He looked up at me with a certain degree of side-eye.
"Well..." I sighed in defeat.
"Highly advanced tech, massive warships, uncountable technologies. You cant say you had an ulterior motive for being here, but at least I can appreciate the sincerity of your funeral service. At least you respect the dead. Now tell me, why are you really here?"
"To thank you... for bringing my granddaughter back home. To thank you for bringing that ship back. To thank you for giving me a chance to say goodbye." I smiled down at him, a tear forming in my eye.
"You are welcome. Its my job. And whats the other thing?"
"To ask some questions. To see if we can negotiate a proper trade. To see if we could be friends." I said, holding my hand out.
He looked at me and sighed. "Aye. Friends it is." He shook my hand.

"So lad, I'll spare you the trouble of asking and I'll just answer. My species abandoned the galaxy some fourteen hundred years ago because we were beset by enemies on all sides. Constant war with no friends, this pace became more a memorial than a home system because of how many losses we were taking. Eventually, we were left with few choices and simply just... buggered off. I was one of very few volunteers to stay behind when everyone left. We found no friends here and simply just decided it wasn't worth sticking around, so we packed up and left." He explained as he lead me to the edge of the room, overlooking a view of Earth.
"That's... that is very depressing. I cannot imagine what it would be like to abandon ones home."
"I'm not completely alone of course, every now and then I get pilgrims coming from the other galaxy and they visit Earth. We built all this you know. Probably have a lot more. Come to think of it, how long before you go home?" He looked up at me with a peculiar smirk.
"Ah... hmmm... Well we have to refuel the ship and hold some vigils but we should be returning home in a few days. Why?"
"If you stick around for a week or so, you'll be able to catch a Pilgrimage. I'm not the only human in the universe, but I am the only human here. If you are willing to be patient, you'll be able to conduct a proper First Contact with the Federation." He said, his smile and expression now seeing to calm down.
"Oh! Uhh... Actually I... I would love that! I will go tell the commanders. I will arrange it all. Thank you, again."
"No problem. Anything for a Friend."
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2023.05.24 05:55 lawyerrosepuppy ARIANA ON CALL HER DADDY

This is the first time I've listened to CHD since Sofia left the pod so here goes nothing... will update as I listen and likely flow into the comments since it's a 2-hour pod!
TRIGGER WARNING - thoughts of self-harm/ideation
Starts off with an intro of Scandal/VPR which we all know and don't need to rehash
Night she found out
When they got home
Couple's therapy
Was she truly happy in the relationship?
This season
Tom's attempts to break up
What she's learned since the reunion:
Other case mates and their suspicions:
Other cheating rumors:
Defending Tom:
Looking back on relationship:
Back to the affair:
Tom and Rachel:
Looking back on relationship again
What she's since uncovered:
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2023.05.23 07:08 Taxi_Dancer THE MAN WITH BLACK HORNS I (In response to the demand that there be a follow up to the tale, THE MAN IN BLACK. I would humbly suggest that if this tale be narrated, to post both tales. Enjoy! T_D)

Part 1.
The Man in White
The visitor sat inside of a dingy strip club in a working class borough of the claustrophobic city. It was a dark and dirty city, a metropolis hidden in shadows even during the day. It seemed to the visitor that the city didn’t even belong on this planet, perhaps even in this universe. Though populated by over nine million people, this brooding, gothic city seemed to be a stranger to the reality which the visitor was accustomed. Still, he had a mission to complete. He had a man to kill. A man which the New York law firm of J. White and Fisk was willing to pay twenty-million in cash to see dead and buried forever.
Strangely, even though his line of work brought him to every corner of the world, the visitor had never been here. The beautiful young intern who worked for the law firm, Miss Petrova, said that she originally came from this city of thieves which teetered on the brink between prosperity and anarchy, but left with her former boyfriend when it became too dangerous for them to stay. For some reason, Petrova recommended this shit hole of a nudie bar as the best place to start his hunt for his elusive and dangerous prey.
“No. Her name wasn’t Petrova. She said that her real name was Quinn. And I told her that my real name wasn’t Pool, but Wilson. I’m not sure why I felt the need to lie twice.”
The visitor was a muscular man in his late 30’s with wavy brown hair, pale grey eyes, and five o’clock shadow. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar, ignoring the four naked women moving listlessly and without motivation on the stage behind him. He had chiseled facial features which could have easily mistaken him as an action star of low budget b-rated movies. Still, though considered handsome, all that the man saw in the mirror was ugly. He detested how he looked, but for some reason, he didn’t know why. Surprisingly, the low class strip club had bottles of $500 dollar Blanton’s Gold Edition bourbon which was reserved for those few special customers who could afford it. The man was sipping a tumbler of the bourbon while Queensryche’s “Eyes of a Stranger” played in the background.
It was late in the afternoon, about that time when the working class stiffs would be coming in to unwind with a few drinks and perhaps indulge in a little extra entertainment from one of the many tattooed dancers with the pregnancy stretch marks and cocaine habit in the back rooms laughably known as the VIP lounge.
The man wasn’t dressed as one of the usual customers, instead being dressed in a pure white business suit which stood out like a beacon in the dark, musty bar which smelled of sweaty vaginas and disappointment. He looked like he had money. Not pimp money or drug money, but actual money earned legitimately. Still, the man ignored all of the dancers who approached him, rubbing the prime parts of their naked bodies on him while enticing him to come back with them to the VIP lounge. He turned them all down until they finally left him alone.
“Probably gay or a pedo,” the women said as they took their rotation on the stage, barely moving up and down the pole in the middle of the floor as ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man” played in the background.
“There’s a gay bar about a block from here if no one here fits your taste, sweetheart” said the bar tender. She wasn’t fully naked, but she was topless, displaying her well endowed tattooed breasts and nipples pierced with gold rings.
The man smiled mirthlessly. “Thanks, but I’m just here to meet someone.” The man pushed his tumbler across the bar, and the bartender refilled it with the expensive bourbon.
“Suit yourself, baby. Care to donate to the juke box?”
The man in the white suit passed her a fifty, which the bartender took, eyeing it as if she thought it was a fake.
“Anything you want to hear, baby?” she said, putting the fifty in her thong and pulling a ten out of the cash register to put in the juke box.
“Play what you like,” he answered. “Just play it loud.”
Soon, the door opened letting the fading late afternoon light into the dimly lit bar. A tall, muscular man with wavy brown hair and pale grey eyes entered, wearing a worn dingy jacket of one of the cities many cab companies. The name on the cabbie’s jacket said ‘Jake’ and the cab driver took a seat next to the man in the white suit. The cab driver glanced at his own reflection in the mirror, wincing slightly at what he saw.
“Care for a drink?” said the man in white. “Bourbon?”
“I’ll take a beer,” the cabbie said.
“Bud Light?” said the man in white.
“Do I look like a woman to you?” said the cabbie. “Bartender, I’ll take a Corona.”
The bartender was a few feet away washing glasses and seemed not to hear the cabbie. Shaggy’s song “It Wasn’t Me” played loudly over the speakers.
The man in the white suit said, “Excuse me. My friend here said he’d like a Corona.”
The bar tender looked at him, an uncertain expression on her face.
“Oh, uh, sure,” she answered. Looking at the man in the white suit, she saw that his tumbler of bourbon was still full, but she reached into the ice cooler and passed him a Corona anyway.
The man in white took the Corona and passed it to the cabbie.
“Okay, what have you got?”
The cabbie took a sip of his beer, then said, “This is a big city, but I don’t think that you’ll have a hard time finding the man with the black horns. If you ask any of the big time players in this city, that guy is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. There is a deep state underworld that secretly runs this city, sort of the same way the deep state runs the country. The police commissioner seems to be on the up-and-up, but at least a quarter of the force are on the take. The only thing that’s keeping this city from turning into the shit show that San Francisco and Chicago has become is the guy with the black horns.”
“And his real identity? Is the billionaire playboy secretly running around at night dressed as some kind of black bat?”
The cabbie shook his head. “No one really knows. I mean, the billionaire and the guy in the black bat costume have been seen and photographed together, but with the black bat wearing a mask, it could easily be a body double to throw people off. Whoever the guy is, he’s extremely clever and effective. So much so that I hear that even that stupid clown criminal has left town to form a law firm up in New York.”
The man in the white suit shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then took a long gulp of his bourbon. “Quinn said that she has very intimate knowledge that the billionaire is the target, so I’m going to go on that assumption. I’ll need to flush out the black bat. If he’s as dangerous as everyone says he is, I’ll need to throw him off his game.”
The cabbie also took another swig of his beer. “What about your other friend? You know, the billionaire with all the fancy white colored vehicles and gadgets? Why don’t you get him to help you track down the black bat?”
“You mean Steven? No,” said the man in white. “Two billionaires in the same city with practically the same fancy helicopters, boats, and vehicles? Too suspicious. Like the US and Russia, the two biggest bullies on the block are sure to notice each other. If the billionaire playboy really is the black bat, another billionaire coming to town with a white colored versions of his black colored shit would be like a signal beacon to the black bat screaming, “I’m coming to get you!”
“So how do you plan to handle this one then?” replied the cabbie. “From what I understand, this guy will probably be the most dangerous target you’ll face, even though he’s also physically the weakest. Why else would they be paying you twenty million to take him out? That’s far more than what they paid you to off the thunder god.”
“The thunder god?” said the man in white, chuckling. “He was easy, even easier than offing the kid who thought he was some kind of man-spider. That so-called “thunder god” was a self loathing alcoholic. It was an easy thing to trace him to his favorite whore house in Vegas and slip something in his drink. After that, all I had to do was dodge his hammer until the poison took effect. From what I understand, the thunder god’s brother found it extremely hilarious that he was found naked and dead in a Vegas whore house still sporting a wooden fence post!”
“Well, be careful with this one, man,” said the cabbie. “He’s taken out some pretty big players, including the Boy Scout with the blue spandex and red cape. Not to mention that the black bat has a few associates who also run around with him wearing the same gay-looking red and green colored battle suits.”
“Really? How many sidekicks does the target have?”
“Currently, he has two,” answered the cabbie. “Though originally there were three. The original sidekick seems to have parted ways with the black bat and is off doing his own thing.”
“Is he in a relationship with anyone? I’ve seen pictures of him with a Greek historian.”
“Diane?” replied the cabbie and the man in white nodded.
“It’s strictly a plutonic relationship. They seem to be business partners. Nothing more. She works in Washington DC and only travels here occasionally. But rumor has it that the billionaire is smitten by a woman who really fancies cats.”
The man in white nodded, taking a sip from his tumbler.
The cabbie got up to leave. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. I’ll let you know if I hear anything new. Thanks for the beer.”
As the cabbie left, the man in the white suit called over the bartender.
“That’s going to be one hundred and six dollars,” said the bartender. “One hundred for the two tumblers of bourbon and six for the Corona.”
The man in white handed over a five hundred dollar bill and said, “Keep the change,” before leaving the strip club.
The cabbie had given him a lot to think about. The black bat would be too dangerous to take out right now. The Boy Scout in the blue spandex who wore his red underwear on the outside was probably stronger than the thunder god, and the black bat defeated him, though they seem to be on good terms now. The man with the black horns had to have a weak spot, and to be able to kill him, that weakness had to be found and exploited.
One of the naked dancers, a black woman with thick thighs, long artificial eyelashes and a wig of gold colored hair, sauntered to the bar, looking enviously at the bar tender holding the 500 dollar bill. “What was his issue?”
Noticing that the second tumbler was still half filled with the expensive bourbon, the dancer picked it up and finished it off. “Was that guy gay?”
“I don’t think so,” answered the bartender. “But I do know that he’s probably crazy. He just spent the last ten minutes talking to himself in the mirror.”
Picking up the untouched Corona, the bar tender put the full bottle back into the cooler.
Part 2:
The Man in Black
Too much. This was too much. First it was his longtime butler.
No, he wasn’t just a butler. He was his friend, his confidant, and his only father figure since his parents had been murdered in that dark alley when he was just a boy. His butler had recently reunited with his estranged daughter Julia and this event seemed to fill his butler with a youthful joy and excitement that he’d never seen before. Julia was home from college, spending as much time with her father as she could before the semester started again. They had just finished dinner and Julia was going to treat her father by taking him to see the latest Batman movie, a grossly fictionalized Hollywood take on the life of the real black bat. They were riding in Julia’s brand new Tesla, which she proudly boasted of paying for using her own money, despite the fact that her father pleaded with her to allow him to purchase the vehicle for her. They hadn’t known of each other’s existence for over nineteen years, but now? Now they had a lifetime to get reacquainted.
The Tesla exploded the second Julia started the vehicle.
The man watched with a cold, stoic expression as the second of two caskets were being lowered into the soggy ground. He was just shy of six feet tall, with cold blue eyes and dark brown hair. Muscular and lean, he wore a black $16,000 dollar Brioni suit which was quickly being drenched in the rain. Though he carried an umbrella, he declined to open it. He was oblivious of the rain, as well as the words which the priest was saying as the caskets were being lowered into the ground. There were others in attendance including Diana, Clark, Hal, and even Richard, but the man in black felt completely alone and empty.
This wasn’t the funeral of his beloved butler and his daughter. They had been laid to rest on a hill overlooking his sprawling estate over three months ago.
The man with black horns had spent weeks trying to track down the person who murdered his butler and his butler’s daughter, scouring every grimy, corrupted inch of the city for a clue, but he’d come up empty. The man in black was considered the greatest detective on earth, and with his vast intellect and resources, he’d discovered and brought to justice the culprits responsible for countless bombings and assassinations around the world. But when it came to this, an event which hit so close to home, he’d come up frustratingly short. Likewise, his associates worked tirelessly to find the killer, but despite their uncharacteristically violent threats against the gothic city’s underground, they too came up with no answers.
Then, less than two weeks ago, he received a text message from Jason saying that he’d found and battled a person that he suspected to be the murderer. “I found the murderer and engaged him in combat. He’s got some kind of white colored battle suit. He’s dangerous, but I managed to hurt him. I’ve got him trapped in the...”
The text message ended there. Jason was one of the black bat’s sidekicks, but as he grew older, Jason grew restless. He reminded the black bat of his first sidekick, Richard, only Jason was much more wild and untamable. He had grown dangerous and unpredictable.
Still, Jason had proven to be a very capable vigilante and crime fighter, and if he’d found the person who murdered his butler, the black bat would certainly have to be there. Jason’s phone had a geo-locater, and the black bat tracked Jason having moved in an erratic pattern within a one mile radius for over an hour from one in the morning to two o’clock. Jason’s actions clearly indicated that he had been in some kind of highly fluid running battle. Jason’s movements suddenly stopped atop the roof of a dilapidated ghetto building where he remained stationary for about another hour. It was here where the black bat and his new side kick, a college aged female named Carrie arrived. Carrie sported short, light brown hair and oversized amber colored glasses in place of the traditional black mask donned by the black bat’s sidekicks but kept the traditional red and green colored battle suit complete with a yellow cape.
The pair arrived on location in a black, bat-shaped stealth aircraft with hover capabilities, the two heroes then leaping from the jet to the roof of the building. Though the black bat had several sexual encounters with the much younger Carrie, he knew that Carrie was Jason’s girlfriend and lover, so he was not surprised that after they landed on the roof, Carrie ran towards Jason, calling out his name.
Jason had his back turned to the two heroes, standing on the ledge of the building and staring down upon the filthy neighborhood where he had just fought a running battle with the killer. Jason wore a gun-metal grey armored battle suit, a ruby red helmet covering his entire head. Though somewhat out of style with the rest of his ensemble, Jason also wore a tan, tactical vest which had several pockets in which he carried various hand thrown weapons.
Strangely, however, tonight Jason also wore a long flowing white cape, something which he’d never worn with his battle uniform before. In fact, Jason had previously told the black bat that he’d never wear a cape, as he’d always thought them to be a sign of arrogance and excess within the super hero community. As the wind blew, Jason’s cape fluttered in the breeze, revealing a sturdy metal rod bolted to the roof top and extending up Jason’s back. A rod which held Jason’s dead body upright.
Before the black bat could yell a warning to Carrie, the explosives which were implanted within Jason’s abdominal cavity exploded.
The man who was the black bat, the man who wore the black horns on the cowl of his black battle uniform, shut his eyes as the caskets of Jason and Carrie were lowered into the sodden ground. They were once his sidekicks, now reduced to shredded bits of flesh encased within a closed casket. Besides her head, left arm and right leg, there wasn’t much left of Carrie to bury and there was practically nothing left of Jason except his head still encased within his red helmet.
It rained well into the evening, finally stopping just before midnight. The brooding man sat in the darkened study of his mansion, sitting in a well padded leather chair and staring at the dying embers in the fireplace. Diane, Kent and the others offered to help him find the killer, but this was something that the black bat insisted on doing alone. Besides, the league never felt the same ever since the water-breathing hero was incinerated on the Hudson River over a year ago. His killer had never been caught.
Selina also offered to come by to keep him company, but he wasn’t interested in any company. Maybe after this was all over, but not now. The killer seemed to know who the people were that the black bat was close to. He had to stay away from everyone who was closely associated with him.
Jason’s killer had obviously chosen the place of battle, a one square mile area of a part of the city that was so run down that calling it a slum would be a complement. The war torn ghettos of Mogadishu were in much better shape. Here, in this dilapidated and abandoned section of decaying buildings, and crumbling neighborhoods haunted by the zombie-like, drug addicted homeless, there were absolutely no CCTV cameras anywhere as there was absolutely nothing of value here worth stealing. Aside from the way-markers on Jason’s phone, there was no visual evidence of his battle against what the newspapers and news media was calling “the hero killer.”
The perimeter motion sensors which surrounded his estate flashed on, a dim blinking red light above the entrance to the study alerting him that someone was approaching the main entrance to the front lobby. Activating a device embedded in his left gauntlet, a small heads up display projected the image of three figures walking up to the entrance.
“They’re here,” he thought. Though the three could have easily entered the premises without tripping any alarms, they instead chose to approach on foot in a deliberate manner that alerted the black bat of their presence. He met them at the door, wearing his black battle suit and cape, though he kept his horned mask off. He knew two of his three visitors and worked with them extensively, though he was not nearly as close to them as he was to his butler and his two murdered associates.
“Good evening, doctors,” said the black bat. Then, nodding to the muscular man wearing the gold feathered helmet who had great hawk wings sprouting from his back, the black bat added, “Carter, I’m glad you could make it.”
“We came as soon as we could,” said the winged hero, a massive battle mace slung from a loop on his belt. “I’m sorry for your loss, my friend.”
“How can we be of assistance?” said one of the doctors, a lean man with a pencil thin moustache and close cropped hair wearing a large golden amulet and a lavish, flowing red cape. Though the mystic operated out of Greenwich Village in New York, it only took a second for him to open a passageway to the billionaire’s mansion in New Jersey.
“Follow me downstairs to the cave where there’s more privacy and security,” said the black bat.
“I have some idea why you summoned us three specifically,” said the other doctor, a tall man wearing a blue battle suit, a long gold colored cape, and a golden helmet shaped like a Spartan warrior’s which completely covered his entire head. “There is something odd about the killer, but I’ll explain more my suspicions once we get down to the cave.”
The black bat’s cave was actually a highly sophisticated underground lair which housed a motor pool for his various black painted combat vehicles, an armory for a myriad of debilitating though non-lethal weaponry, a wardrobe for various incarnations of his black battle suit tailored to meet specific mission parameters, as well as one of the most advanced AI computers on the planet, even rivaling the ones used by Stark Enterprises. It was here where the black bat solved an endless list of unsolvable cases. But now, he was loathe to admit that he had struck a dead end. Absolutely every method and technique that he used to figure out the identity and location of the killer was unsuccessful.
“And that’s why, I presume, you called me and Kent to assist you?” The mystic with the flowing red cape sipped the tea which the bat had made for him.
“That’s correct, Stephen,” replied the bat, a tinge of shame and defeat in his voice. “Absolutely everything that I’ve tried has led me to a dead end.”
“Kent, you said something earlier about something being odd about the killer?” The muscular man with the giant hawk wings had removed his own winged helmet and was sipping on a coffee.
“Yes, I did,” replied Kent. The mystic had also removed his golden helmet so that now all four identities of the heroes were revealed. “Forgive me, but I took the liberty of using my fateful helmet to search the mystic realms looking for clues that might the identity of the killer.”
“Indeed,” added the mystic named Stephen. “I also travelled the astral planes to identify and locate the killer and found my way blocked by a wall of immense power that even the all Seeing Eye is blind to what is on the other side. Only a god has the power to do that, and an extremely powerful one at that.”
“But why would a god want to hide a murderer from detection?” speculated the black bat. “Presumably, a god would have better things to do.”
“Unless the killer was some sort of avatar of the god,” said Carter, the winged hero. “I, myself, am the living avatar of an Egyptian entity, though I refuse to use the term god.”
“In any case,” said Kent. “A god may be powerful enough to hide its activities from either Stephen or me, but together, we should be able to destroy the astral wall it created and discover its identity. That is, after all, why you brought the two greatest mystics on earth you.”
The black bat simply nodded.
The mystics named Kent and Stephen knelt facing each other, Kent now wearing this golden helmet once again. His log golden cape flowed as a supernatural wind began to swirl around them, though Stephen’s red cape remained still. A fiery circle of flame appeared above them, within a black hole of whirling clouds spinning like a nightmarish black pool. A portal to the astral world inhabited by the gods themselves. Unseen by the black bat and the winged warrior, the astral forms of Kent and Stephen emerged from their physical bodies and leapt into the black maelstrom of swirling black clouds, Kent going first as Stephen held the portal open. As their spirits left their bodies, the physical forms of Kent and Stephen collapsed to the floor.
Carter, the winged hero gasped suddenly.
“What’s wrong, Carter?” grunted the black bat.
“That’s never happened before. In the past, when Kent’s astral body left him, he was still able to maintain his seated position. He maintained a connection between his astral spirit and his physical body.” A look of sheer panic appeared on Carter’s face. “We need to pull them out of the astral plane! Their souls have been totally separated from their bodies! They’re going to die!”
Suddenly, the circle of fire flared to life again, only this time the flames were pitch black and the musty, moldy odor like that of a crypt long decayed in a haunted swamp filled the air. The bat and the hawk watched in horror as a long boney hand reached down from the portal and snatched up the bodies of both Kent and Stephen, lifting their unconscious forms into the astral plane.
“We have to stop it,” screamed the hawk warrior, flying up and slamming his battle mace into the skeletal wrist of the being. “If their physical and astral bodies are united in the astral plane, and they die in the astral plane, they’ll die in reality!”
The black bat hurled a half dozen tungsten steel black blades in the shape of stylized bats, all of which struck the wrists and forearms of the giant clawed arm. A sinister, crackling laughter filled the stale air as the arm lifted the bodies of the two mystical heroes into the swirling black void above and taking with it Kent and Stephen but leaving the lingering scent of death.
“NO!” yelled the black bat, quickly retrieving a gun-shaped device from his belt which launched a length of rope towards the rapidly closing portal. However, in the blink of an eye, the portal closed and the length of rope, minus the grappling hook at the end, dropped to the floor.
“Impossible! That’s impossible!” screamed Carter, the eyes of the fearless warrior wide with genuine fear.
“Carter, what was that?” yelled the bat.
“That is the brother of the Egyptian deity whom I serve. But that’s impossible! The thing that took Stephen and Kent is the Egyptian deity of retribution and retaliation against evil! Like the one I serve, he’s supposed to be a force for justice and order!” ”
“Well, whatever it is, we have to get into the astral plane,” said the bat.
“We can’t! It takes a mystic of tremendous power like Stephen to open a portal like that!”
“Then we’ll find a way, dammit!” yelled the bat, running into his massive armory to search for a weapon to use against a god. “Stark, Reed, hell, even Luther! One of them must know how to...”
The man with the black horns was cut short as the circle of flames suddenly appeared above the room. Once again, it was bright and red. Kent’s body fell through the portal first, his golden helmet falling from his head with a ‘clunk’ as he hit the floor. Kent’s blonde hair was now a wispy thin white, he was skinny and emaciated, and his once blue eyes were now grey. His skin was white and wrinkled, the once young and lean hero now old and fragile.
Stephen fell through the portal next, or, what was left of him. His blue robes and flowing velvet red cape were relatively unscathed, though they were smoking as if singed in a fire. As for Stephen himself, he was nothing but a charred skeleton which crumbled to dust as soon as his remains hit the ground. The all seeing-eye amulet which he had worn around his neck was pierced through, as if by an unbreakable claw. It was closed forever.
The bat and the hawk warrior ran to Kent’s side, kneeling next to him and carefully turning him over. The bat cradled Kent’s head in his arms, the mystic hero now looking as if he were well over a hundred years old.
“Kent,” whispered the bat as gently as he could. “It’s me! You’re safe now. What happened Kent? What happened to you and Stephen?”
“It’s a god,” croaked Kent weakly. “It was a god that protects the ghost. That’s why we couldn’t find him. The white ghost. That’s why we couldn’t find him.”
“Who Kent?” the bat persisted. “Who is the white ghost?”
“He’s the avatar of an Egyptian god. The god used to be like one of us. A hero in the pantheon of Egyptian gods. But it went mad. The god went mad.” Kent’s voice was fading. “Stephen summoned the last of his power to open a portal, just as the raving mad god tried to incinerate us. How is he? How is Stephen? I... I can’t see.” Kent’s sightless eyes searched for the other mystic.
“He’s... he’s fine, my friend.”
Kent laughed miserably. “You’ve never been a good liar, Bruce.”
“Carter? Carter, are you there?” Kent’s life force was fading fast.
“I’m here.”
“You are the key, Carter. You and the white ghost both serve Egyptian deities. The god whom you serve is still good and just. Even now, he battles his brother, who has been driven insane. But the mad god is stronger, and the deity you serve will not win unless you can defeat his earthly avatar. Your god has given you the ability to locate him. Together, you and Bruce may be able to defeat the white ghost.”
Kent exhaled, then went limp, his sightless eyes still open as his spirit left his body for the last time.
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2023.05.22 17:19 epicwizardcowboys HAS ANYONE HEARD FROM CHRISTOPHER FOSTER?

Information about Tom Soul, Missouri is scarce. No library or archive or website makes much mention of it, today. The only reference I managed to find to the town was a poster, dated to the 1960s that a fellow collector obtained when he purchased a rare book. The poster was folded up inside as a bookmark. He offered to sell it to me, but I declined. Something about it is wrong. It doesn't belong to us. I don’t want it in my home.


By Douglas Ray Cleavon
Published June 2006

Part One: The Interloper
Part Two: The Son

“The caves around Tom Soul are sick. A leaky kind of sick. That’s what the locals would tell you when they tell you to stay away. Can’t say I’d disagree.”
Dr. Malcolm Fisk, a historian and folklorist at the University of Missouri, was gracious enough to allow me to continue our interview after recounting the incidents involving the harrowing masked figure that plagued the town prior to the homicides of Theresa and Gideon Foster. The alarming description of the man,and his fixation on frightening people in town, made me feel like the Demon of Tom Soul was inextricably tied to the murders.
When I asked Dr. Fisk what sets the cave system within Tom Soul apart from the other caves and abandoned mines that are scattered around the rest of the Ozark Mountains,he provided me with resources to explore the history of Tom Soul from its founding. What I discovered was shockingly dark.
Tom Soul was founded in the early 1800s and spent much of that time as little more than a place for fur trappers and miners to stop and get a drink. This peaceful existence was violently interrupted by the start of Prohibition in 1920.
Without legal distilleries, moonshiners and bootleggers began to take full advantage of the extensive, natural hiding spots provided by the Ozarks herself, much to the chagrin of federal lawmen. Local police forces were happy to look the other way, likely because they were the recipient of cheap booze, but on a wider scale, Tom Soul was a problem.
Strong, quality alcohol without any real competition was being pumped out of the sleepy town without any real competition, quickly spreading into the surrounding counties. When federal agents came knocking, the moonshiners simply fled into the caves with their supplies, where the out-of-town agents were unable to follow safely.
On a chilly mountain night, in the fall of 1928, enforcers of Prohibition traveled to Tom Soul for what proved to be the last time. They had spent weeks whipping neighboring towns into a frenzy, convincing clergy, and law-abiding citizens that the bootleggers and outlaws in Tom Soul were a threat to American values,and to the good word of God.
Armed, they stormed the caves with little warning to the people inside. They knew that the moonshiners would flee into the caves. They brought matches.
When the moonshiners hid, the posse spilled the contents of the distilleries all along the cave, where it followed the moonshiners trail. The posse added firestarters, tinder, logs, anything they could think of, at the mouth of every cave in Tom Soul. Including Foster’s Cave.
Once the posse was satisfied, they lit it ablaze. The moonshiners tried to escape,facing the law over inevitable death, but they were not given a choice. The posse blocked the exits.
People choked on the smoke, lungs charring from the searing heat. They suffocated to death, fire consuming oxygen before they could get the chance. They burnt,clothes catching alight, and when fleeing to the exit for help, they were shot.
At Foster’s Cave, a man almost made it out of the fire before a federal officer shot the man in the knees. Witnesses say this was likely on purpose. The man fell into the fire, and tried to drag himself forward, but the stone floor of the cave was too hot, and he roasted alive. Nobody who went into the caves that night survived. It seemed as though even before that bloody night in June 1976, the Foster property was a harbor for savagery.
When I reached back out to the neighbor that I had previously interviewed, he claimed that Christopher Foster was preoccupied with the history of the town.
“Elroy- my brother- was buddies with Christopher, but I never liked the guy much. Don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but I’m just being honest. He was strange, even before he got sick. Not much of a church goin’ type, neither, which really riled up his pops. I don’t really remember much more than that, but hey, if you want’a talk to Elroy, I can give him a heads up.”


Elroy, who asked me to omit his last name on request of his brother, currently resides in California with a domestic partner, where he is employed as a schoolteacher. He was hesitant to speak about the murder of Theresa and Gideon Foster, but became happy to share information when I explained I was more interested in learning about their life, and specifically, their son.
“They didn’t deserve any of it,” Elroy told me. “Hate to say it, but in retrospect,part of me is relieved that Christopher passed when he did. Maybe it spared him in some way.
Growing up, I lived in a little house right on the outskirts of Tom Soul. I was the oldest of six boys, and desperate for some sense of privacy. Christopher was the same as I was, but he was an only child. I think we found a sort of solace with each other.
His house was somewhere I could escape to, and I think his parents were happy Chris had a pal his own age. They were always pleasant people. A little guarded, maybe, but pleasant. I think his dad had a hard time leaving his ‘pastor’ mask at the door.
We grew up doing just about everything together. Even though it was the sticks, there was a ton of things for wild young kids to get up to- maybe it was because we were way off in the sticks. We didn’t have an arcade, or a theatre, so we spent most of our when we weren’t at school or at home exploring the woods. If we were home before dark, and promised not to go into the caves, our parents were happy for us to be independent and out from under their feet. Different times, I suppose.
Chris was probably about 13 the first time he became seriously ill. He had to go to the hospital in Branson because he had pneumonia so bad. When he came home, it almost felt like he left whatever kept him a healthy young man behind. Never really recovered.
I think that’s when he started reading more about the town’s history. Maybe in retrospect it was a bit morbid, but after he got home, the doc had him on bedrest. Didn’t have a lot to do other than look at that damn cave and think. Started spending less time outside together and more time at the little library next to the mayor’s office. Helped me realize how much I loved classic literature, even if it wasn’t quite as exciting.
Nobody other than me and his parents really knew how bad his health had gotten until he started sleepwalking. To preface, this was a small enough town where everybody knew everybody. Today? Ina bigger town? Things wouldn’t have been like this. But in Tom Soul?” Elroy sighed. “It just made sense, to not make a big deal of things.
The first time it happened we were 14 or 15. Just starting high school. One of our neighbors went to get something from their cellar one night, and sitting down there in the dark was Christopher. Of course, the homeowner grabbed his gun and told him to leave, or he’d shoot him, but it was clear pretty quickly that Chris had no idea how he’d gotten down there. He was confused and crying, begging for his life, and that poor befuddled neighbor had to wake the Fosters up so they could come collect their son.
Nobody, not even his parents, could figure out how he got down there without waking anybody up or leaving a trail. Nobody knew how long he’d been sitting in that damp cellar. Alone, in the dark. Dreaming.
They took him back to the doctor. Doc said it was just a severe case of sleepwalking, and they left it at that. Harmless. Chris wouldn’t feel rested after an episode, but it wasn’t going to hurt him. Word in town travels fast. The next time someone found Christopher in their house, they didn’t bother with theatrics. They just called his parents to come take him home.
After a while, it was normal. Creepy, of course, but just a quirk of the town. Nobody wanted to offend the pastor, anyways. Adults tried to be polite, but kids weren’t so beholden to small-town politics.
He was weird, sickly, spent a lot of time indoors. Christopher was a real beanpole by this time, too. Had his hair long. The two of us were a bit bohemian, I suppose you could say. Girls were all over him, but the other boys didn’t appreciate him much. I remember about halfway into our freshman year; a bunch of older teens jumped us on our walk to school. Beat the shit out of us. I had a black eye for what felt like six months. They held Christopher down and cut his hair, called him some choice names I don’t believe you’d be able to print in your article.
After that, it was just the two of us. When his illness got worse, I’d come around every day with food for him and his folks. On his bad days I’d read to him, or I’d bring my records with me, and we’d listen to music. I’d clean up after he threw up and listen to him when he bitched about all the pills and teas his mom would have him try.
I loved Christopher. Part of me still does. I loved him in a way I couldn’t tell anyone, until I moved far, far away from backwoods Missouri. But Chris knew. He wasn’t ever going to feel that way about a man, but he accepted me the same.
When we were about 21 or so, we went out to the creek on his parent’s property, mostly for old times’ sake,” Elroy pronounced creek more like crik, just about the only thing about his speech that betrayed his backwoods Missouri roots. “This was one of his last good days. It was morning, and the weather was sublime. We sat on the bank of the creek with our feet in the water, not even talking. Just enjoying being outside.
The water was latte-brown, but too shallow to hide much more beyond an errant minnow. And then it rippled.
A man rose from the water, exposing everything above his navel to the cool air of early spring. I knew he was, with that damn creepy mask on. It was the Demon of Tom Soul.
I scrambled backwards away from the bank through the brush, trying to put as much distance between myself and that creep as possible. Christopher hardly reacted. I wonder if part of him expected it.
‘Hey,’ it said. It sounded like it had Marlboros for vocal cords.
My breathing was ragged, but Christopher looked as collected as ever.
‘Need a smoke?’ Christopher asked. I wanted to tell him we needed to go, but I was frozen.
I couldn’t get control of my body enough to make a sound. Its eyes were glittering, and it rose the rest of the way from the water. It was totally naked, muscles defined and wiry, and it waded over to stand in front of Christopher.
Chris pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He never smoked. I don't know why he had them.
‘Thanks kid,’ it said. It stuck the whole cigarette in its mouth, and after a moment, flipped it back out between his lips. The end was lit. The smoke didn’t smell normal. It was tobacco smoke, sure, but there was something else there. Coppery, earthy.
Christopher turned to me, where I still lay on the ground. ‘You should leave, El,’ he told me. ‘This isn’t something you should be around for.’
And-… I-… Douglas Ray, I was a coward. That knocked me out of my paralysis enough to get back on my feet and run home.
I checked in with his parents, a few days later, to see how he was doing. Sick, they told me. But he was home. I couldn’t bring myself to visit him again. I carry that with me.
That day in the woods. That was the last time I saw Christopher Foster.”
According to the town’s paper, Christopher Foster’s funeral was unexpectedly large, held on an overcast day, and closed casket. He had died after a long battle with an immune system disorder. Elroy hadn’t reported his sighting of the Demon.
A few days after our interview, I got an email from Elroy. He told me that talking about his childhood and Christopher had jogged his memory. There was a story, about the town, that Christopher had been fascinated with.
Decades before the incident with the bootleggers, a stranger visited Tom Soul. He arrived in Missouri by train and claimed he was visiting his family deeper in the mountains. This visitor was strange. His hair was tangled and long, his face was clean-shaven, and his teeth were small and neat. The stranger laughed,high and manic, at inappropriate times, but seemed otherwise harmless. He stayed at a farmstead with a man, his wife, their son, and their daughter.
A week went by, and people saw the stranger in town. He’d play card tricks, make unusual but friendly conversation. Talked a lot about how beautiful it was in the caves. Glow-worms and gold, he’d repeat to shopkeepers.
A week went by, and nobody saw the family. Until one day a few men decided to go check on their property. It was burned to the ground. The stranger had been living in the ashes. His belongings were pristine among the wreckage.
Law enforcement scoured the woods. They found them, eventually. The bodies of the family. All but the teenaged daughter. Bloodless, wrapped in layers of plaster and cloth. Propped up against outcroppings of rock, deep in the first chamber of Foster’s Cave. Over the wrappings, the bodies had been dressed in their Sunday best.
The stranger staying with the family was quickly taken into custody and set to be executed without so much of a trial. Small town justice, despite the man’s claim of his innocence. On his day beneath the gallows, in a singsong voice, he said a prayer, and asked for chewing tobacco. He was hung with the dip spit running from his mouth.
Years later, a strange smell came from beneath the floor of the local grocery. The same store operating in Tom Soul today, in fact. Unmistakable rot.
The grocer insisted he didn’t know the cause. Perhaps produce had gotten stuck somewhere and gone off. It got stronger. He said he would fix it. Nothing improved. Too many people complained, and the townspeople pushed the hands of the law. The floorboards were torn up, one by one.
For years, unbeknownst to anyone, the townsfolk had been walking, shopping, and eating above the body of a teenage girl. She was wrapped in strips of cloth and plaster, like the rest of her family, and dressed in beautiful lace. A facsimile of her face had been painted onto the plaster on her head.
Decay had set in, and the grocer’s crime was revealed. He confessed. The unusual stranger had been just that- and a more sinister monster lurked amongst the townsfolk.
Over the years,the grocer had become obsessed with the teenaged daughter of the murdered family. He watched her grow up. He decided he wanted her, needed her, and the only way to do so was to kill her family and take her for himself. He needed to make sure she couldn’t run away, so he killed her too. He was hung and buried next to the unidentified stranger in an unmarked grave, somewhere outside of town. Some versions of the story have his body burned, or simply tossed into a mine shaft somewhere out in the woods.
I asked Elroy why he believed Christopher was interested in the story, and he said at the time, he just thought Christopher liked it for the same reason one might like any ghost story or local legend. But Elroy had been thinking, after our talk.
He had been thinking about the days and weeks leading up to Christopher’s death and the later murder of his parents. He reached out to people he knew from back then and managed to get his hands on the official record of the evidence recovered from the house that the Fosters had lived in until their untimely death. He thought I needed to see it, too.














submitted by epicwizardcowboys to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.22 16:00 JayPsycho [WTS] Spring cleaning mega-sell off (106 items!), AR and Glock parts and more

Mods, since there are multiple timestamp photos, I've also linked the specific timestamp photo an item is in in the Google Sheets doc in case it helps.
Hello, I've gathered a lot of items that aren't being used anymore and need a new home--this might be the perfect opportunity to start your new build! There are 98 distinct items, totaling 106 items. Items include:
I have the items listed below, but since there are quite a few items, I've also put them in a Google Sheets document here to keep everything organized. The Google Sheets will have more details/notes and links.
Pricing: PayPal F&F or G&S (buyer pays fees). Shipping is a FLAT $7, regardless of quantity; prices listed do not include shipping. Shipping for an item that can be mailed as a letter will just be 50 cents.
I don't like haggling, though I am open to hear reasonable offers. Please let me know if you have any questions or would like more detailed pictures.
Since there are many items, including the item number(s) in your DM would be GREAT in helping me keep your items organized.
There are also some small items that are free with an order if you let me know that you want it.

Items for sale - more details/descriptions in the Google Sheet:

AR Upper Parts

Complete Uppers
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 BCM MK2 11.5 ELW MCMR Upper w/ BCM BCG Used $675
Upper Receivers
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 ADM UIC Billet Upper Receiver (FA+PC), FDE Cerakote Lightly Used $270
1 SOLD Aero Precision M4E1 Stripped Upper Used $70
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 ADM 10.75" Handguard, FDE Cerakote Lightly Used $207
1 Expo Arms 15" Combat M-LOK Handguard, Black New $120
1 Aero Precision Atlas R-One 15" M-Lok Rail Lightly Used $140
1 SOLD CMT DRT 10.5" M-LOK, Brown Used $110
1 SOLD Expo Arms 9.5" Combat Handguard Used $50
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 SOLGW Combat Grade 5.56 16" Mid-Length Barrel Used $130
1 SOLD Expo Arms 10.3" Combat Barrel Used $80
Charging Handles, Gas Blocks, & Small Parts
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Geissele SCH (DDC) Used $90
1 Aero Precision Carbine Gas Tube, Melonite New $12
1 SOLD SLR Sentry 7 Adj Gas block w/ tube Used $95
1 SOLD Forward Controls ACF Randy (Mallard Brown) Used $115
1 SOLD DD Milspec Charging Handle Like New $15
1 SOLD Superlative Arms .750" Adjustable Gas Block, set-screw style, stainless Used $75
Muzzle Devices & Suppressor QD Adapters
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Dead Air Omega Adapter (DA428) Lightly Used $190
1 Lantac Dragon, Keymo Used $75
1 Lantac Dragon, Keymo Lightly Used $90
1 SOLGW NOX 5.56 Keymo, RH New $90
1 YHM Phantom QD Adapter New $70
1 Daniel Defense Birdcage FH Used $30
1 SOLD SOLGW NOX 5.56 Keymo, neutral New $90
1 SOLD YHM Phantom QD Muzzle Brake, 5.56, 1/2x28 Used $65
1 SOLD YHM Phantom Mini QD Flash Hider, 1/2x28 Used $65
1 SOLD YHM Kurz Mount Used $55
1 SOLD Surefire Warcomp, 1/2x28 Used $120
Mlok Accessories
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 SLR M-LOK Handstop Mod2 - Barricade New $30
1 Railscales KARVE Polymer, M-LOK, Black New $25
1 SOLD Emissary Development Handbrake, M-LOK, ODG New $36
1 SOLD Magpul Angled Fore Grip Lightly Used $15

AR Lower Parts

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 SOLGW Milspec Trigger Lightly Used $54
1 SOLD Geissele SSA-E Trigger Lightly Used $160
1 SOLD Geissele SSA Trigger New $160
1 SOLD Geissele SSA Used $150
1 SOLD KNS Precision Hammer and Trigger Pin Mod. 2 Non Rotating .154 Inch DE Used $25
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 SOLGW Milspec style Ambi Safety Like New $24
1 SOLD Radian Talon 45/90, Black, Short lever on RHS Lightly Used $45
1 SOLD Radian Talon GI (Black) Used $30
1 SOLD Daniel Defense Milspec style Ambi Safety Used $10
1 SOLD LWRC Ambi Safety New $25
1 SOLD Seekins Precision Ambi Safety Black Used $35
Individual Small Parts and Kits
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
3 Milspec AR15 bolt catch New $4 or $10 for all 3
1 SOLD Seekins Precision Billet Magazine Release Button Used $6
1 SOLD Geissele Super Stainless Mag Catch and Button Used $20
1 SOLD Geissele Lower Parts Kit, no grip New $40
1 SOLD Seekins Precision Enhanced Bolt Catch Used $8
Buffer System
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Milspec Carbine Buffer Tube New $20
1 Milspec Buffer Retainer Detent, no spring New $2
1 Midwest Industries Endplate New $25
1 SOLD Milspec Castle Nut Used $4
1 SOLD Milspec Buffer Retainer Detent and spring New $3
1 SOLD Armaspec Stealth Recoil Spring, H2 Used $50
1 SOLD CMC Triggers AR15 MilSpec Buffer Tube Kit Used $45
1 SOLD Triarc Systems A5 Buffer Tube New $40
1 SOLD Triarc Systems A5 Buffer Tube New $40
Stocks & Braces
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 LAW Tactical folder Gen 2, Black Used $210
1 SC Irregulars FEER V2.5 .75" Cheek Riser (FDE) Used $65
1 SOLD Magpul MOE SL-S Stock (FDE) Used $60
1 SOLD Magpul MOE SL-S Stock (Black) Used $60
1 SOLD B5 Systems Bravo Stock Coyote Brown Used $45
1 SOLD B5 Systems Bravo Stock Black New $48
1 SOLD SB Tactical SBA3 Brace Used $75
1 SOLD SC Irregulars FEER V2.5 .75" Cheek Riser (Black) Used $50
Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Magpul MOE+ Grip Used $15
1 Magpul MIAD Gen 1.1 Grip Kit - TYPE 1, FDE Like New $25
1 SOLD Magpul MOE AR15 Grip, black New $15
1 SOLD Daniel Defense Pistol Grip Black Used $15

Glock Parts

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Triarc G19 Threaded Barrel Lightly Used $200
1 Apex Glock Action Enhancement Trigger Shoe New $75
1 Glock 43X OEM Mag Catch New $3
1 Glock Gen 5 MOS Cover Plate for 17/19/45 New $5
2 1 Glock 43X OEM "iron" sights New $5
1 SOLD Glock Gen 3 OEM Mag Catch (from Glock 19) New $3
1 SOLD Glock 19/17/45 OEM "iron" sights New $5
2 SOLD Glock 43X/48 OEM 10rd mags New $22

Weapon Light Accessories

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Cloud Defensive Light Mount, Black (from Rein 2.0) New $23
1 Cloud Defensive Light Mount, FDE (from Rein 2.0) New $23
1 Arisaka Inline Scout Mount, M-LOK New $34
3 SOLD Modlite Clicky Tailcap New $24
1 SOLD Arisaka Momentary Tailcap TC-2 New $30
1 SOLD Arisaka Inline Scout Mount, M-LOK Like New $32
1 SOLD Arisaka Mlok Offset Scount Mount New $40

Holsters, Kit, Slings, and Similar Accessories

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 T1C Standard Large Wedge New $6
1 T1C Standard Extra Large Wedge New $6
1 Safariland 572 Double Mag Carrier, FDE Used $35
1 Safariland Midride UBL Used $20
2 Esstac Kywi belt loops, set of 2 New $7
1 Drop6 Sling (Black) Used $30
1 Shaw Concepts Arc Placard V3, Coyote Brown New $55
1 SOLD T1C Axis Elite for Glock 19 w/ TLR-7A Like New $120
1 SOLD T1C Standard Wedge Sizing Pack New $15
1 SOLD Neomag Mag Holder Type G, Medium, Black, Extended New $50
2 SOLD Magpul Sling QD Swivels New $13

Optics and Mounts

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 Sig Romeo 5 on Reptilia 1.93" Mount (FDE) Used $200
1 SOLD Scalarworks Leap /01 1.93 Aimpoint Micro Mount Used $115


Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
1 SOLD Onward Research TF LXIX ODG T-shirt, Small Lightly Used $20

Freebies w/ an Order

Quantity Item Condition Price per quantity Pictures
4 Howard Leight Impact Stock Earpads New $0
1 SOLD Howard Leight Belt Clip from Impact New $0
1 SOLD Hero of Hacksaw Ridge Book by Booton Herndon New $0
2 SOLD Streamlight TLR-7A Accessories New $0
submitted by JayPsycho to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]

2023.05.21 09:48 I_AmTheGovernment I am making a list of every single emo band so you will never have to ask for recommendations ever again

American Football, Cap’n Jazz, Sunny Day Real Estate, Texas is the Reason, The Promise Ring, Owls, Jimmy Eat World, Taking Back Sunday, The Appleseed Cast, Orchid, Page99, Suis La Lune, I Hate Myself, I Hate Sex, City of Caterpillar, Jerome’s Dream, Indian Summer, Rites of Spring, Embrace, Moss Icon, Dashboard Confessional, Death Cab for Cutie, Cursive, Penfold, Piebald, Modern Baseball, Free Throw, Old Gray, Sorority Noise, The Hotelier, Slaughter Beach Dog, Foxing, Joyce Manor, You Blew It!, awakebutstillinbed, Home Is Where, Lobsterfight, Heccra, Summer 2000, Your Arms are My Cocoon, The World is a Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, Oolong, Ogbert the Nerd, Commander Venus, Commander Salamander, Retirement Party, Worst Party Ever, The Saddest Landscape, Touche Amore, Movements, Prince Daddy and the Hyena, Hot Mulligan, Inconsistent, camp ghost, TRSH, Worst Funeral Ever, Pinegrove, mid-nineties, Super Whatever, Moose Blood, Algernon Cadwallader, Sunsleeper, Brand New, Bright Eyes, Mom Jeans, Just Friends, Snooze, Pictures of Vernon, Perspective, A Lonely Hand To Hold, Empire Empire (I Was a Lonely Estate, Mt Oriander, Origami Angel, Midwest Pen Pals, Merchant Ships, William Boney, Tiny Moving Parts, Forests, Ben Quad, Im Glad its You, Tigers Jaw, Pedro the Lion, Jets to Brazil, poor sports, sports., sports, etc., oso oso, Microwave, He was an artist, she was a carpenter, Tiger Bike, Flight Patterns, Armor for Sleep, Knola, It Looks Sad, Balance and Composure, Citizen, Matt Kerekes, Blis, Jank, Pannuccis Pizza, Fail Better Heal Faster, Little Tyrant, Parents Fighting, McCafferty, I Wish I Could Skateboard, Nevasca, Camping in Alaska, The Early November, Ponder, Thanks! I Hate it, Wasatch Pine, Somos, Macseal, Dryjacket, Plunger, Celebration Guns, A Place for Owls, Robo Pumpkin, hey nothing, best dad ever, park national, camp trash, camp cope, disco witch, downtown owl, The Civil War in France, A Rise and Fall of a Dilapidated Home, Old Problems, Jump Shots, Michael Jordan Touchdown Pass, Sledding with Tigers, Cheap Haircuts, The Frontbottoms, Widowdusk, Backbeforestreetlights, Lights Strung Like Stars, Boy Problems, The Spirit of Versailles, All My Wishes Were Thrown Down a Well and Should Die There, Homesafe, Can’t Swim, Cicada Head, Casper Elgin, Party Hats, Vs Self, SUNFO, Nurse Manhattan, corduroy pants, Old Pine, Marietta, Spanish Love Songs, Poncho Model, Morning Dew, Melancholy Club, Clique, Michael Cera Palin, Brave Little Abacus, Snowing, Brave Bird, Prawn, Sioux Falls, Lincoln, Dads, Football, etc, CSTVT, Grown ups, Emo Side Project, Our Sunday Affairs, Glocca Morra, Swiss Army Wife, Rainer Maria, Mineral, Braid, Teen Suicide, Plainclothes, This is Pointless, 7 Birches, Mallcops, Guitar Fight from Fooly Cooly, Caving, Sustained, The Exploration, Human Kitten, Elder Jack, Stars Hallow, The Obsessives, Parting, mis sueños son de tu adiós, bright little stars, Signals Midwest, Flatsound, Growing Fins, Townies, UnWoven, A Headache with Pictures, Frat Mouse, Perspectives, Well Kept, South Walk, Tooth Cemetery, Thorne Tire, Wise Disguise, Bug Heaven, If I Drown, Hey Ily, toughitout., Cereal Noise, Swimming, Raccoon Tour, Illicit Nature, Comic Relief, Tough Stuff, Computer Sad, Summerbruise, Niiice, Twothirtyeight, Jail socks, Good Sleepy , Closure, For Your Health, Xingfoo&Roy, Middle-Aged Overdose, Sleepy Dog, I Feel Fine, Shed, Unturned, The Anniversary, Aiming for Average, Pop Warner, Pretend Happy, Shark Club, Record Setter, Small Brown Bike, Bike Path, Hot Water Music, Hot Rod Circuit, Mildura, Hillcrest, All-Time Quarterback, Crywank, Swordfish, Laughing Matter, The Menzingers, Alchemists, Safe Bet, Alaska Bicycle Co., Elton John Cena, Thursday, Grandview, Steady Hands, Look Mexico, Perfect Future, Christie Front Drive, Oliver Houston, Donovan Wolfington, The Moms, Open,Sleep Weather, Strictly Ballroom, Coping, Spraynard, Dear Pines, Pswingset, Everyone Asked About You, Dad Thighs, Adventures, My Heart to Joy, Heart Attack Man, Kittyhawk, Sup Muscle?, Owen, Pop Unknown, Alleys, Dowsing, Their / They’re / There, Knapsack, Kolya, Deer Leap, TTNG, Posture and the Grizzly, Have Mercy, Basement, Cloud District, Watermedown, Hotel Books, I Love Your Lifestyle, meet me in montauk, Turnover, January 2, Guest House, Warm Thoughts, Bong Mountain, Griffey, No boy, Secret Stuff, Rookie Town, Oakwood, Taco Hell, Hightide Hotel, Two Knights, Crash of Rhinos, Relationships, Spanish Club, Fist Benders, Raccoon City Police Department, Flowers Taped to Pens, Duck. Little Brother, Duck!, The Cardboard Swords, I Kill Giants, Park Jefferson, Wavelets, Joie De Vivre, Malegoat, Spook Houses, Topbunk, Beds, math jokes, southlakes, big awesome, anna phorra, leaving, fox wound, Old Sport, Thought Patterns, Dikembe, The Get Up Kids, Carly Cosgrove, Tawny Peaks, Arrows In Her, Del Paxton, Baby Names, Gulfer, itoldyouiwouldeatyou, Sit Calm, Lana Avacada, Options, Ceres, Forget It, I’m ok., Yes Yes A Thousand Times Yes, Lions, Leaving, Mountains for Clouds, Spectre Shores, Mighty Ships, the Casket Lottery, Benton Falls, Bayside, Saves the Day, The Jazz June, Senses Fail, Drive Like Jehu, Frameworks, Saetia, Algae Bloom, Leer, Nai Harvest, Pianos Become the Teeth, Charmer, Spraynard, Monument, The Junior Varsity, Unamused Dave, Kayak Jones, Old Notes, everett, Hodera, Street Smart Cyclist, A Great Big Pile of Leaves, oh my god elephant, The One Up Downstairs, Narrow / Arrow, Coping, Tommy Boys, Rika, The Hundred Acre Woods, Pet Symmetry, Runaway Brother, Captain We’re Sinking, Grad Life, Seahaven, Daisyhead, Three Man Canon, Remo Drive, Slingshot Dakota, Northbound, Head North, Weatherbox, Cliffdiver, Alaska, Pity Sex, Dogleg, Elder Brother, Sinai Vessel, La Dispute, Say Anything, Jeff Rosenstock, Born Without Bones, Polar Bear Club, Mansions, Khaki Cuffs, Nouns, Equipment, Delta Sleep, See Through Person, Roomie Card, Stomach Book, Newgrounds Death Rugby, Record Setter, Short Fictions, calendar year, 44.caliberloveletter, I Would Set Myself On Fire For You, Portraits of Past, Joan of Arc, The Gloria Record, Hey Mercedes, Elliot, remember sports, Chinese Football, Arms Length, Into It. Over It., Excuse Me Who Are You?, Face Turn, El Mejor Verano de mi Vida, Homesafe, Sweet Pill, Anxious, Drug Church, Ratboys, Heart to Gold, Cross My Heart, Boys Life, Engine Down, Planes Mistaken for Stars, Jejune, The Jealous Sound, The Movielife, Jawbreaker, Glassjaw, Circa Survive, mewithoutYou, Saosin, The Spill Canvas, American Beauty, Sincere Engineer, American Memories, Boy Rex, Bicycle Inn, Bike Cruise, By the End of the Summer, Glass Bones, Closer, Darkle, Curse Words, Disco Inc, Fredo Disco, Dog Breeds, Droughts, Drunk Uncle, foxtails, The Pine, Atlanta Arrival, Still Talk, Relationship Advice, Boilmaker, No Knife, Rivet, Circle Takes the Square, Pictures can Tell, Fuel, Frail, Breakwater, Gameface, Still Life
submitted by I_AmTheGovernment to Emo [link] [comments]

2023.05.21 04:17 wrathofotters Scenes I wrote for season 4 ep 1 that incorporate Bobby into the story

Hi all! I was really inspired by all of the discussion about the Johnny/Robby arc and people wanting Johnny to try more. Here are some scenes that have been in my head. Open to constructive feedback.
(Scene: Flashback to 1984 after the All Valley tournament. Kreese is berating a young Johnny Lawrence for losing. Current Johnny watches this scene from a distance. It's a scene that has replayed in his head far too many times He looks on helplessly as his younger self is nearly strangled to death by Kreese. Suddenly the scene shifts. And instead of young Johnny being strangled, it's Robby.)
(Johnny wakes up from his nightmare in a cold sweat. His breathing is labored and heavy)
Johnny: Robby.
(Johnny looks around his room helplessly. He takes a sip of a half empty coors banquet on his night stand. He is panicked. He then gets up and grabs his keys and exits his apartment)
(In the next scene, it's still nighttime Johnny is sitting in his van parked outside of the Cobra Kai dojo on the opposite side of the street. He stares at the building intently)
(Scene- break of dawn. Johnny drives his van back into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Rosa is outside the Diaz apartment drinking a mug of coffee enjoying the sunrise. She notices Johnny. He stumbles out of his van towards his apartment. He looks exhausted. And scared. Rosa approaches him)
Rosa: Mijo! Estas bien?
(Johnny looks towards her. He simply shakes his head. Rosa sympathetically offers him a sip of her coffee)
(Scene: slight rewrite of the Diazes eating dinner at Johnny's place. I decided to cut out the whole dialogue of Miguel revealing that Johnny saw Ali, and the subplot of Carmen deciding to take things slow. After they talk about the tournament and Miguel getting back together with Sam, the following dialogue takes place)
Johnny: What time is it?
Carmen: It's almost 8. Why?
Johnny: Erm. I better get going I have a uhh…a thing
(Rosa eyes him knowingly)
Johnny: I'm doing a moving job. A buddy of mine is moving up north. Way up north. I'm helping him with the U Haul
Miguel: This is kind of a random time to do it isn't it?
Johnny: Less traffic at night. Sorry I have to leave but you guys enjoy. Have as much mango salsa as you want (He gets up)
Carmen: Why don’t you fix your friend a plate, Johnny? Moving takes a lot of energy (As soon as Carmen says this Rosa hands Johnny a tupperware packed with food from the table)
Johnny: Woah…how did you do that so fast?
Miguel: Oh, Yaya's the tupperware queen. If there were a tournament for leftover prepping, she'd be the champ. (Rosa makes a muscle with her arm)
Johnny (chuckling) Well…Gracias. I gotta jet but you guys feel free to hang out as long as you like. Watch a movie if you want. (Johnny gestures to his VHS collection)
Miguel: (laughing) I can't believe you still have a VCR, Sensei. And a rewinding machine? (He gets up to get a closer look at the set up, his back is turned to Johnny, Carmen and Rosa)
Johnny: (to Carmen) I'll see you soon (he instinctively leans in to kiss her goodbye)
Rosa: A-HEM! (She nods her head towards Miguel. Johnny and Carmen stop in their tracks alarmed.)
Johnny: Um…you…got an eyelash. (He blows a puff of air off of Carmen's shoulder. She cringes)
Carmen: Thanks
Miguel: (Is oblivious. His back still turned) Your living room is literally a museum. We should charge admission to all of Reseda to come view these relics of the past
(Johnny, Carmen and Rosa laugh extra loudly. Miguel turns around and gives them all a confused look. There's an awkward pause)
Johnny: Okay. Bye
(Johnny leaves.)
Rosa: (sarcastically) Que Buenas noticias! Tenemos que limpiar su cocina. Huevon.
(Carmen and Rosa clear the table and begin to wash dishes and put things away. Carmen notices the childhood soccer photo of Robby on the fridge. It takes her a moment to realize who it is. She is at first startled. Then contemplative. She examines the photo closely)
(Scene- Johnny breaks into the back of the Cobra Kai dojo.He quickly sneaks into Kreese's office. He ponders for a moment. He grabs a marker off of Kreese's desk and writes something on the tupperware.He puts the tupperware in the mini fridge and runs off. Robby and Kreese are in the front room of the dojo. I would place the dialogue from the original episode that began with Robby saying "I never said I was joining. I just needed a place to crash" here. They then both hear Johnny running out of the back entrance. Kreese goes back towards the office to see what's going on. The office is empty. Johnny leans against the back wall outside.)
Johnny: Hope you're okay, kid.
(Scene- Rewrite of Daniel and Johnny hashing out their differences after their argument at Miyagi Fang practice. Nighttime- Daniel approaches Johnny’s apartment with a case full of Coors banquet. He knocks on the door. No answer. He knocks again. Rosa enters from the Diaz apartment. She waters a hanging plant on their porch. She notices Daniel)
Rosa: El no esta aqui
Daniel: (turns around) Oh. Hola Rosa, como estas? Um…..donde esta….
Rosa: He’s keeping watch.
Daniel: Keeping watch?
(Scene- Johnny is parked on the opposite street of the Cobra Kai dojo. He stares in its general direction. He looks weary and exhausted.Daniel pulls up and parks behind him. He calls from the car)
Daniel: Johnny?
(Johnny is startled and looks in the direction of Daniel. He is a bit embarrassed. He gets out of the van and leans against it. Daniel walks towards him and stands next to him)
Johnny: What are you doing here?
Daniel: Guess I could ask you the same thing.
(Johnny doesn't have a response)
Daniel: You've just been sitting out here? All night every night this week? What do you think that's going to- (Daniel stops himself when he sees Johnny’s distraught expression. Daniel looks towards the dojo) Amanda tried calling him a few times and offered the guest house. Even offered him money for a hotel but….. he's a stubborn kid.
Daniel: There really isn't any other person he could stay with for the week? What about his grandparents?
Johnny: Shannon’s parents don’t want anything to do with him after he stole from them.
Daniel: What about your rich stepdad?
Johnny: I’m not leaving him alone with Sid.
Daniel: Why? It’s gotta be a better option than-
Johnny: I am NOT leaving him alone with Sid.
Daniel: He doesn’t have any friends he could stay with?
Johnny: No. Those two dirtbags he hung out with are in jail. His only other friends were….well you and your Miyagi Dos. And a fat lot of good it did him
Daniel: And what does that mean?
Johnny: I mean the fucked up thing you said to him when you were at my place. You knew that would hit him where it hurt. He looked up to you. He was just trying to protect Sam…..who you should hold accountable for once in your life
Daniel: Do not talk about my daughter
Johnny: But you get to say whatever you want about my son?
Daniel: I apologized to Robby for that.
Johnny: Yeah and then you sprung the police on him. Shannon told me how that all went down. How did you think he was going to feel about you pulling that shit without talking to him first?
Daniel: The kid was gone for two weeks in a stolen car. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t run away again.
Johnny: Then that tells me you don’t think much of him. So why did you even bother getting involved with his life?
(Johnny turns away from Daniel and starts pacing)
Daniel: I don’t think much of him? Did you even think about him AT ALL until recently? Did you know that he was sitting alone in the dark with no electricity or hot water when I took him in? Were you even aware of that Johnny? (Johnny stops pacing. His back is turned to Daniel. His shoulders stiffen. He looks devastated.He turns towards Daniel)
Johnny: (softly) What?
Daniel: That's right. That was happening. And where were you? Making nice with Kreese. I can't believe YOU are lecturing me on how I let down YOUR son. You abandoned him his entire life! For all your machismo bullshit about “being a real man” you don’t know the first thing about it. No real man would walk out on his kid!
(Johnny shoves Daniel)
Daniel: That’s right Johnny go ahead. That’s the only way you know how to solve your problems right? (Daniel pushes him back)
Johnny: What are you doing here Larusso? Did you drive all the way down here just to tell me I'm a shitty father and a shitty human being? Well I beat you to the punch. I TELL MYSELF THAT EVERY DAY OF MY GODDAMN LIFE! . Now go home. Go home to your kids where you know they are safe and not with a fucking ….psychopath. (Johnny's voice cracks). Fuck. FUCK. (Johnny beats the van in rage until he hurts his hand. He leans on the van, his head buried in his arms) Shit….shit shit shit.
Daniel: (Daniel looks at Johnny with pity. His tone softens) Johnny….
Johnny: (His voice is hoarse and tired) I thought Robby living with you would be the worst thing to ever happen. But no….the worst thing is happening right now. It’s a nightmare. I mean training with Kreese is one thing but living with him?
Daniel: It's just another week. I'm sure Robby will be alright.
Johnny: Every second he's in there I can't breathe. It wouldn't take much for the kid to get on Kreese's bad side……and he can hit him, he can hurt him….he can…strangle him. And I let this happen.
Daniel: No. (Flashback from Season 2. Daniel to Robby at Johnny’s place “You want to end up like him? Fine”. Robby’s heartbroken face looking at Daniel leaving) WE let this happen. (beat) Johnny……you should go home. Get some sleep. Let's give both of our dojos a break from training for the weekend. You aren’t any good to your students….or to mine if you arent rested. We are going to take down Cobra Kai. And Kreese won't have Robby in his grasp anymore
Johnny: Not a chance in hell am I getting any sleep
Daniel: Yeah. I probably couldn't either if I was in your shoes. At least go home. Try to rest. I’ll stay here….. and take the next watch. (Johnny looks at Daniel. There is gratitude in his eyes. Johnny gets into the van and starts it) Johnny…..if Robby doesn’t want anything to do with you and he doesn’t want anything to do with me….there’s got to be someone he can stay with. Someone he can trust
(Scene- Cobra Kai dojo daytime. Bobby enters the dojo, the bell dings)
Bobby: Robby?
(Bobby surveys the dojo. He sees the cardboard cutout of Kreese and the snake in the cage. He rolls his eyes)
Bobby: Typical.
(Kreese enters from his office. Bobby's shoulders stiffen at the sight of him. Flashback: Karate Kid. Kreese: "I want him out of commission" scene. Bobby throwing his belt at Kreese's feet)
Kreese: Can I help you sir?
Bobby: It's me….Bobby. Bobby Brown?
Kreese: Are you a parent of one of my students? Don't think I have a Brown in my class.
Bobby: (realization dawns on him. His expression is a mix of shock and hurt) You…. you don't remember me. You don't even… I….wow
Kreese: Forgive me sir. I meet a lot of people in my trade. Refresh my memory
(Bobby takes a moment.)
Bobby: Ah. No. Forgive ME. I'm a pastor. I thought I recognized you as one of my parishoners. My mistake. I guess you have a doppelganger out there in the world.
Kreese: I'm not much of a church goer.
Bobby: Yeah.
Kreese: Can I help you with something?
Bobby: I'm…Robby's uncle. Shannon is my…… step sister. I came down here from up north. Um. Way up north.
Kreese: Ah. I'm happy to hear that Shannon is getting her life on track. Robby unfortunately hasn't had any other good role models in his life. Especially that father of his.
Bobby: Yeah, we're all very proud of her. . I actually wanted to see if Robby could stay with me for a few days, so we can…plan her homecoming. Get her new apartment ready
Kreese: A boy needs his mother. That relationship is important
Bobby: Yeah. Do you know where I could find Robby?
Kreese: I believe the young man likes to frequent the skate park at this time of day.
Bobby: Thanks for the tip. It was…….a pleasure to have met you
Kreese: The pleasure is all mine.
(Bobby exits the dojo and walks into the mini mall parking lot)
Bobby: (seething) I threw everything away for you and you just forgot me. I bet you don't remember Tommy either. I guess that's why you weren't at his funeral you piece of shi- (Bobby clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. He looks towards the sky holding his hands in prayer) Forgive me, Father. (He gets into his car and drives off)
(Scene- Robby and Bobby at the skate park. Robby is sitting down taking a break from skating drinking from his water bottle. Bobby approaches Robby)
Bobby: Hey Robby. Fancy running into you here.
Robby: Running into me? Since when do you go to the skate park Pastor Brown? It looks like you came here looking for me.
Bobby: What? Just because I’m a pastor doesn’t mean I can’t pop a wheelie like the best of them (He takes Robby’s skateboard and attempts a trick. He hits himself in the knee and quickly regrets it) Ow. (Robby gives him a look) Yeah you’re right I came here to talk to you. (He sits down next to Robby) So….what’s going on?
Robby: Sounds like you already know.
Bobby: The bulk of it. I mean…’s kinda dumb you have to admit. It sounds like you sleeping on the floor of a dojo with no one but some old guy to keep you company hurts you more than it hurts anyone else. What does Kreese even feed you besides black coffee and sardines?
Robby: I can take care of myself. Did Johnny really send you to try to convince me to live with him? That’s pretty pathetic.
Bobby: Look … can stay with me until your mom comes back. I have a guest room. And food that doesn’t come from a can. And Netflix.
Robby: And what’s in it for you?
Bobby: Just to know that my best friend’s son is safe.
Robby: Your best friend didn’t seem to give a shit until now. Weird time to do it.
(Bobby looks down forlornly. He doesn’t have a response for this)
Robby: I don’t understand. What is so bad about Kreese? So he’s a little tough. Big deal. Doesn’t seem so different from when Johnny was running Cobra Kai. Except Kreese isn’t a drunk idiot.
Bobby: No one ever told you about what happened to your dad at the '84 All Valley?
Robby: Yeah. He got his ass handed to him by Mr. Larusso. All he does is bitch about it.
Bobby: I mean after the tournament in the parking lot ….this is more your dad’s story to tell than mine…… Kreese nearly strangled him to death. It was pretty brutal. I mean… messed me up just watching it. I imagine it messed Johnny up pretty badly too.
Robby: (pauses and looks down hiding his expression. Then laughs) Yeah well…..fucker probably deserved it. Wish I could’ve had a front row seat.
Bobby: Oh wow….you’re really hurting aren’t you?
Robby: Actually I’m not. For the first time in my life it feels like no one can hurt me. I like it
Bobby: It’s an addictive feeling for sure
Robby: Look…..if Cobra Kai messed up Johnny so badly why did he bring it back in the first place?
Bobby: (he sighs) To be honest with you…..I don’t know Robby. I thought it was a dumb idea and I told him that. I guess maybe he thought that he could reform it…make it better…..make it his own.
(Robby looks out into the distance considering this)
Bobby: I kinda wish this was a conversation that you and your dad could have.
Robby: That’s not happening. Is you offering your place some sort of trap? Are you going to make me talk to him?
Bobby: No Robby…..I’ve learned pretty quickly there’s no making you do anything. You got a will of iron…just like your fa-……..just like some people I know. Like I said….I just want to give you a place to crash until your mom comes back. That’s all. I won’t lie to you.
Robby: Really?
Bobby: Really. C’mon I’m a pastor…’s not a good look to break the Ten Commandments. Unless………. it’s REALLY necessary. Plus I don’t want anything to do with the karate drama. I made that pretty clear to Johnny. I’ll tell you now if you are going to stay with Cobra Kai….don’t ask me for advice on it. You gotta navigate those choppy waters on your own. Looks like there’s some lessons you can only learn by living them. I know you'll figure things out. You're smart. A lot smarter than I was at your age. But I’ll just tell you this about working with Kreese….don’t let anyone take your integrity away from you. I know integrity doesn’t seem like a lot. It’s not speed, or strength or a good hook kick. But it really is something you don’t want to lose.
Robby: Yeah well….I just got out of juvie… it’s a little late for integrity.
Bobby: Don’t say that. There’s a passage in the Bible that says-
Robby: Oh GOD. Is that what this is? Are you going to try to convert me? Like lock me in a prayer closet? Drown me in a baptism pool?
Bobby: (laughs) Okay okay. I hear you loud and clear. I won’t talk about Jesus stuff if you don’t talk about Cobra Kai stuff. Deal?
Robby: Deal.
(Scene- Bobby knocks on Johnny’s door. Johnny opens it. He looks exhausted)
Johnny: Did it work?
Bobby: Yeah. He’s at the house now
(Johnny lets out a huge exhale)
Johnny: Is he okay? Is he okay?
Bobby: Yeah Johnny he’s fine. He’s just hanging out with Kathy and the dogs right now
Johnny: (relieved. Almost breathless he clutches his chest) Oh god. Thank you. Thank you dude. (he heads towards the fridge to grab a beer. Bobby follows him and closes the door behind him)
Bobby: Are YOU okay?
Johnny: I felt like I was having a heart attack that lasted for three days straight. It’s the weirdest fucking feeling ever. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it’s indigestion.
Bobby: I think it’s just called loving your son.
Johnny: I’m just glad he’s out of there.
Bobby: I mean….he’s still dead set on training with Kreese.
Johnny: Well.I’ll put a stop to that once we beat Cobra Kai in the tournament.
Bobby: You really think that’s gonna solve everything?
Johnny: I need a beer. Do you want a beer? I need a beer (he grabs a Coors banquet from the fridge and practically drains it in one gulp. He cracks open another one and drinks.)
Bobby: Wow Johnny…you’re drinking like they are going to take it away from you. It’s barely 11am
Johnny: Oh come on Brown, don’t pretend you're above day drinking. Remember when you snuck a whole six pack into homeroom? Can’t believe we got away with that one.
Bobby: I don’t know if you noticed but we are not 15 anymore.
(Miguel enters the apartment carrying a tupperware container)
Miguel: Hey sensei. Yaya wanted me to bring you some leftover encebollado. She’s noticed you’ve been tired a lot lately and says this is the miracle cure. It’s also a hangover cure…… which…you look like you are on your way to needing.
Johnny: Hey, Johnny Lawrence doesn’t get hungover. He just has times when he needs to stretch and hydrate. Diaz, I want you to meet Bobby Brown. Cobra Kai’s most badass fighter and my best friend.
Bobby: The latter is true not so sure about the former.
Miguel: Oh yeah! Sensei told me all about you and the legendary flying tornado kick from ‘82. He STILL refuses to teach me that move.
Johnny: I will when you're ready, bud
Miguel: (to Bobby) It’s an honor to meet you (shakes his hand)
Bobby: The honor’s all mine Miguel. Nice to meet last year’s All Valley Champ.
Johnny: And he’s gonna be this year’s too. Just you wait.
(from offscreen) Carmen: Miggy! Can you come help me with these groceries?
Miguel: I gotta go. Sensei, are we still watching Young Guns 2 tonight?
Johnny: Hell yeah we are.
Miguel: Cool! It was nice to meet you Bobby. (Miguel sets the tupperware container on the counter and exits)
Johnny: He’s a great kid isn’t he?
Bobby: Yeah. You guys have gotten close huh? I don't notice any other students coming over for movie nights. Looks like you have a favorite
Johnny: It's not just that. I've kinda been close with his whole family.
Bobby: Huh. You're not hooking up with his mom are you?
(Johnny and Bobby exchange a look)
Bobby: WHAT? I was joking! You are seriously hooking up with his mom?!
Johnny: Shhhh! Keep your voice down. He doesn't know yet
Bobby: Johnny! Oh my god. (Bobby puts his hand over his mouth when he realizes he said the Lords name in vain. He puts his hands together in prayer and looks upward) Forgive me father.
Johnny: I haven't had a chance to tell him yet. A lot's been going on.
Bobby: It seems like there's always something going on with you Johnny Lawrence. You always seem to go looking for chaos.
Johnny: Look I didn't go looking for trouble this time it just…happened. I never met anyone as beautiful as her before. And I'm not just talking about her looks
Bobby: That's the first time I've heard you use a word other than "hot" to describe the opposite sex. Just…be careful Johnny. It's kind of a dangerous game you are playing.
Johnny: I know what I'm doing. Anyway. Thank you for taking in Robby. I really owe you one.
Bobby: It’s no trouble at all
Johnny: He’s not giving you a hard time is he?
Bobby: No….why would he give me a hard time?
Johnny: Well…he's just been…pretty angry lately. He's been on the warpath ever since that school fight.
Bobby: Why do you always think the worst of him?
Johnny: What? I don’t. Not at all. I want him to live with me don't I?
Bobby: Do you really, Johnny? You say that all the time but do you really make room for him in your life? Where is he even going to sleep in your one bedroom apartment? Are you going to build him a bed from Coors banquets?
(Johnny stares at the floor)
Bobby: I saw him in that juvie center when you didn’t show up Johnny. He wasn’t angry. He was scared and lonely. He needed you. He opened the door for you to come back into his life and you slammed it shut. You practically walked him into Kreese’s dojo. Everytime Robby gets angry at you. Or slams a door in your face. Or cusses you out. I want you to picture him as a hurt little boy. Because that is what he is.
Johnny: I don’t think I can do that. I’d feel too guilty
Bobby: Well……get over it.
Johnny: Kinda harsh huh? Not very Christian of you.
Bobby: Hmmm let me see if there is a Bible verse that applies. Well Corinthians….nah I’m just gonna say again “Get over it”
(they laugh)
Bobby: Sorry if it’s harsh Johnny. But you hurt your son. You abandoned him on his very first day in this world. He’s gonna be mad. It's gonna take some time for him to trust you again. But it's YOU who has to keep that door open. Even when its difficult. You are the adult. I know I’m a pastor. But I’m also your friend. And I’m never going to pull any punches with you. I know you can take it. I’m showing you “no mercy” on this one (he playfully punches Johnny’s arm)
Johnny: Speaking of……you haven’t met the rest of my Eagle Fang students. If you ever wanted to come by and maybe co sensei with me…..
Bobby: No. No way dude.
Johnny: Why man? You are so talented. You seem great with kids. And you were always such a good fighter
Bobby: (softly) Not a memorable one apparently
Johnny: What?
Bobby: Nothing. Look, Johnny….I don’t expect you to get this. Or maybe you do. But something in me died that day when I let Kreese talk me into injuring Daniel Larusso at the All Valley all those years ago. And it never came back to life. I don’t think I could ever put on a gi again. Plus now that you are working with Larusso…..running into him would be…….awkward. I don’t think I can even look him in the eyes after what I did to him. Let alone work with him. Seeing those ads everywhere still make me feel like garbage
Johnny: Kind of hypocritical coming from the guy who wants me to get over it and face up to my guilt. What happened to…I don’t know…..He who shall be without sin cast the first stone
Bobby: Nice one!. But I never said I was without sin. You made that pretty clear to my parrish when you told them about the soccer moms. Thanks for that by the way.
Johnny: Always happy to help out a priest (Johnny toasts his Coors banquet to Bobby who rolls his eyes)
Bobby: I love you, Johnny. And Robby too. I want you guys to win. I'm rooting for you both.
Johnny: Well only one of us can win unfortunately.
Bobby: I'm not talking about the tournament. Take care of yourself okay?
(Bobby exits. Johnny looks at his Coors banquet. He finishes it, tosses it in the trash and grabs another one from the fridge)
(Bobby re enters)
Bobby: Johnny..
Johnny: Yeah?
Bobby: I miss Tommy.
Johnny: I know. I do too.
Bobby: (more emphatically) Take care of yourself. Please.
Johnny: Yeah. Sure okay
(Bobby exits. Johnny cracks open the other Coors banquet and drinks)
End scene
(Scene- rewrite of Johnny and Daniel in the Miyagi Do parking lot right before they discover Hawk and the kids building the Okinawan sparring deck. I basically want their argument from the original episode that took place in Johnny's living room to take place here
Johnny is alone by his van. Daniel hasn't shown up yet. Johnny is practicing what he wants to say to Daniel)
Johnny: Larusso … turns out you were right about a lot of things. No. No I'm not saying that. I feel like a jackass. How about…(Johnny struggles with this) I'm …..sorry about interrupting your practice. I'm sorry about what I said to you in the parking lot that night. No. No don't apologize that shows weakness. (Johnny huffs.) Goddamnit I sound like a pussy. Alright Lawrence…..just…get over it. (Johnny says this next part without hesitation) Larusso…….thank you for your help with the Robby situation. I owe you. It turns out you were right. About a lot of things. I'd like to call a truce?
(Daniel pulls up and gets out of his car)
Daniel: Hey. You're here early. Did Robby find another place to stay for the week?
Johnny: Yeah. He's staying with…(Johnny thinks better of bringing up Bobby's name around Daniel) a friend.
Daniel: Oh good. I'm glad to hear it.
(There's a beat)
Johnny: So it turns out-
Daniel: I wanted to say I'm sorry.
Johnny: What?
Daniel: I'm sorry for snapping at you and being so critical at practice last week. I didn't really consider how much you had on your plate with the whole Robby situation. I could have been a bit more patient and understanding
Johnny: Well, it turns out-
Daniel: Johnny….Ive done a lot of thinking over the weekend. And I've come to respect how hard it must have been to come to my dojo. I know things we left things in a tense spot. But I think we can agree there are big things at stake here. And these kids……they've been through enough. We've been through enough. Right?
Johnny: Yeah. Well it turns out-
Daniel: That's why. ……..For the sake of the kids…I think it's time you joined Miyagi Do.
Johnny: (pause. Apologetic Johnny goes right out the window) Um. Fuck you Larusso.
Daniel: What?
Johnny: (indignantly) Are you serious right now? That's your solution? Why should I join YOUR dojo?
Daniel: Because the more we fight the harder it is on the kids………
"Dialogue from living room argument scene takes place here"
Daniel: You know if this is final we are gonna have to tell the kids eventually
Johnny: Screw it. Let's tell them right now. Rip the bandaid off.
(They hear the commotion of Hawk breaking down the fence and the kids building the sparring deck. The next scene proceeds as it did in the episode)
(Johnny surveys the scene of the Miyagi Dos and Eagle Fangs working together in front of him fondly)
Johnny: Building a bridge
(The next scene is a montage that takes place over a few days. It starts with Johnny in his apartment typing into Google "How to convert your one bedroom apartment into a two bedroom". Measuring the space in his living room. Buying plywood and materials at Home Depot. Noticing a Misfits poster in the store and adding it to his cart. Putting up the walls and installing a makeshift sliding door. Putting a bed together. When he is done Johnny surveys his work proudly. He takes a picture of the room on his phone. He sends it to someone. He then dictates out loud as he clumsily texts.)
Johnny: "Dear Robby. I just learned to text on the smartphone. I know you said not to talk to you anymore but I guess this doesn't count because it's writing to you. I just want you to know….my door is always open. This room is yours for whenever you want to come by. I hope you and your mom had a good first day in your new apartment. Signed, Dad. P.S The bed is IKEA. It's Swedish.
(Johnny presses send. His face then falls. He sees on the screen "Message not sent. Message blocking is active".)
(Johnny then tries to call Robby. He hears a busy signal. He stares off into space)
(Miguel walks into the apartment)
Miguel: Hey Sensei. Woah. What did you do to your living room?
Johnny: Hey, what does Message Blocking is Active mean?
Miguel: It means whoever did that doesn't want you contacting them. Sam blocked me for a bit when we broke up. It sucked
(Miguel grabs a Slim Jim from the pantry and sits on the couch eating it)
Johnny: (quietly) It feels like garbage.
Miguel: (chuckling) Awwww who blocked you, Sensei? Was it Ali?
Johnny: Uh. Yeah.
Miguel: I told you not to info dump about Iron Eagle in all caps to her. It's okay. We can re activate your dating profile. Get you back in the game! (He gestures to the makeshift bedroom) What is all this?
Johnny: (pauses) Um. Nothing. Hey buddy, how about we get out of here for the day? You know where we haven't trained in a while? Big Bear Lake. Let's get a break from the Valley. Switch things up a bit
Miguel: Now?
Johnny: Yeah! Why not?
Miguel: Are the rest of the Eagle Fangs and Miyagi Dos up for a field trip?
Johnny: No, man. I'm just talking about you and me! Whaddya say?
Miguel: (his face lights up) Okay
Johnny: Alright (he puts his arm around Miguel as they exit)
submitted by wrathofotters to cobrakai [link] [comments]

2023.05.18 23:28 sunicthehooxchoog The amazing world of gumball "The Scream"

I wrote this at like 11pm so I was tired as fuck, so it's probably gonna be weird and will make no sense
Gumball and Darwin were chilling, and cartoons were playing on the TV in their room. They had been watching them for a while, but then they got bored of it. They stopped and turned to each other. "So how are you?" Gumball asked, "You seem tired." "Yeah, I'm just tired," Darwin said. He yawned. "I think I'll go sleep now." He walked over to his bed and lay down. "Okay," Gumball replied. He walked over to the window and looked out at the moon. It was full and bright. The clouds were white like cotton candy. He thought about the story he had read that day. The one where the boy fell into a well with no water and nobody heard him cry for help. Then, the next day, the people saw the boy's body floating up from the bottom of the well. That night, after they put the boy's body in a coffin, his mummy came back. She went to the well and called her son by name. "Mummy, mummy!" And she pulled him out of the well. He sighed as he stared at the moon. He wished there was a mummy waiting for him when he died. But then he realized he would be scared too! I'd rather die than get eaten alive by skeletons or zombies… I bet if I turn into a skeleton, I'll still feel pain. I don't want to be a zombie either, I'd probably eat my own flesh. So I guess I'm better off being dead. Then he remembered something Darwin had said earlier. What was it? Oh yeah, 'If you're ever feeling lonely, I'll always be here.' He smiled. "Thanks," he said, "you know what else?" Darwin didn't reply. "I have you. You've got me. We're friends forever, remember?" He smiled. "And we'll never let anything bad happen to each other again."
The next morning, Gumball woke up early. He stood up and stretched, and he couldn't help but notice Darwin wasn't in bed anymore. He made his way downstairs and found Darwin sitting at the table eating some toast. "Hey," he said, "where's your brother?" "He left ages ago," Darwin said, chewing on his toast. "I think he must have gone to school." Gumball nodded. "Guess we should get ready too then. Let's not keep the teachers waiting." They both hurried upstairs and changed into their uniforms. When they were done, they made their way outside and sat in the back garden. They waited for a few minutes before Mrs. White came running out of the house. "Good morning, boys!" she said, "Let's go!" But then a murderer appeared behind her. He was wearing a ghostface mask and carrying a huge knife in his hand. He ran up to Mrs. White and stabbed her in the back. She collapsed to the ground. The children screamed and ran inside. It took a long time for them to calm down. They all stayed silent, staring at each other. Mr. Brown came over to comfort them. "Don't worry, boys, we'll find whoever did this," he said, "and he will pay." He paused, thinking. "But first, let's call the police. Officer Silverwood is on his way." Mrs. White was rushed to the hospital, where she received treatment for her injuries. But gumball found the killers house, and he killed the killer with a scream 6 dvd and ran away. ⁂ A young man named William was walking through a forest near his home. It was a beautiful day: the sun shone brightly in the sky, and there was barely any wind. He smiled happily to himself. William looked around him. Suddenly, he felt uneasy. Something seemed wrong; the air was cold and damp. He looked up to see a dark cloud hovering in the sky. Was it going to rain soon? He shivered and rubbed his arms. He decided to go back to his house. He started walking, but he suddenly tripped over something on the floor. He looked down—something was lying there. There was a note on top of it. He picked up the paper and read it. Dear Sirs, We have come to take the children. Tonight at midnight, we will be waiting in the woods. And also smoking weed. Please tell the kids to stay inside. Sincerely, The kidnappers. That's strange, William thought to himself. No one had kidnapped him before, and he didn't even know any kids. Then it cuts to gumball in bed, having nightmares about the killer, and him coming into his room and telling him that he has to go and save the kids. He wakes up and finds that everything is real and he's late for school, so he runs out of his house and goes to the park and sees a bunch of kids there and he tries to talk but the teachers don't believe him and say "that the killer is dead" and then he shouts at them and then he thinks about saving them and how he can't do it because he doesn't know who they are but then he remembers that he does know their names and he starts to run and then he gets to the woods he gets too scared and runs back. A young woman named Alice was walking through the forest near her house. It was a beautiful day: the sun shone brightly in the sky, and there was hardly any wind. She smiled happily to herself. Alice looked around her. Suddenly, she felt uneasy. Something seemed wrong; the air was cold and damp. She looked up to see a dark cloud hovering in the sky. Was it going to rain soon? Then, out of nowhere, the killer was back and stabbed her in the back. She screamed in pain, and she tried to crawl away, but the killer stabbed her in the head, and she dies... The next day, gumball at school is talking to Darwin about the nightmares he is having, and then he tells him about the killer, and he says that he has seen him. Then gumball asks if he knows who the kids are and Darwin says no and then he shows him the letter and then he tells him about the kids and Darwin starts to freak out and then gumball is like "this is a scream movie!" and then the teacher comes and says that they are doing some new project and then he asks them to write a diary entry and then Darwin writes an entry saying that he has to save the kids and then the teacher takes his journal away and then he screams and then he writes a letter to the kids and gumball gets curious and sees the teachers desk and finds a ghostface mask in his drawer, the same one that was the killers disguise in the dream. Then he goes to the woods and finds the kids and then the killer comes and kills them and the kids and then he kills gumball, a funeral is held for gumball and Darwin remembers that gumball said he was always gonna be here for him but he isn't now, Darwin denied to take his revenge against the killer and he goes home crying. ⁂ A young man named William was walking through a forest near his home. It was a beautiful day: the sun shone brightly in the sky, and there was hardly any wind. He smiled happily to himself. William looked around him. Suddenly, he felt uneasy. Something seemed wrong; the air was cold and damp. He looked up to see a dark cloud hovering in the sky. "Oh shit," he said, he ran away just in time. But unfortunately, a few seconds later, the killer came along with a gun and shot William in the head. But then Darwin appeared and said "YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU KILLED MY BEST FRIEND GUMBALL!!!" Then Darwin pulls out a knife and throws it at the killer, finally killing him, Darwin then throws the killers corpse in the ocean and it floats away, but Darwin trips and falls into the ocean and is washed ashore. Then the police show up and ask Darwin to tell them what happened. The police thanked him for stopping the killer and called him "The hero of the city!" And everything was going well, but one day Darwin was chilling, and he gets a knock on the door. He goes to check on it and... he sees the killer... THE END
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submitted by SchlesingerMindy323 to FLjobs [link] [comments]

2023.05.18 05:59 muser_777 LETTERS FROM DONETSK - PART 18

The tree beneath my window that fell in the storm has begun to blossom. Japanese pink.
It’s three days since the worst of the war that’s visited me so far. It came for others worse still. An explosion just two hundred metres behind my back while I was out on my walk. Then another ahead in the city centre, then another. Great thunderclaps that seemed to hit everywhere at once – as if Sloviansk were an organism and the whole body was flinching from the pain. I turned to look at the nearest infliction behind me – a plume rising above the head of the impact behind a row of homes. Just as I was about to set off to make sure there was nothing I could do – I saw it. I fucking saw it come out of the sky. Like a black bullet travelling just slow enough for you to see. Sleekly downwards. Directly down to where the last one hit. A stab from the sky. The detonation was staggering – a rip-sound piercing every living thing with fear. Squares flew up from the explosion like those that fall down on the stage in TV shows where someone who doesn’t look like a star sings their heart out and wins, except these squares weren’t silver but black – a roof-over-your-head-in-the-air.
“Fuck.” I fast-walked in that direction, two soldiers on the road to my left swearing and pointing too. Soldiers are clearly told to leave the civilian stuff to the city – and there was nothing but people’s homes flying up in the air so nothing they were allowed to do. I got near the top of the road to another crack of manmade thunder from the city down the hill behind me – then another. This was not like the other times, not in the whole eleven months I have been here. This was a bombardment, a siege. The city was being pounded from the sky and everyone I saw knew that what was happening was different. A change in military attitude. This realisation made the pounding more frightening because you had no idea if it would stop. A young couple ran down on the other side of the street towards nowhere at all – just the nearest not fucking here. The girl’s head was dipped down as she ran, half ducking, flapping brown curls as she went, boyfriend protective behind. I crossed over and passed a lady in her fifties wrapped in the completeness of an overcoat, with a tiny dog pulling her generous whole after the couple for-the-love-of-cover.
“We are walking,” I think she said directly towards my face as she was pulled past. Her own a picture of shock. She can’t have said that. She must have asked where I was going. I spluttered some meaningless back – I don’t even remember what. No, wait – “Mi gulali,” “We were walking” – that’s what she said. She must have been trying to tell me she was right by the strike when it happened, which would explain the mooniness of her mouth and her eyes and the “we’re going this way now” of her dog.
I got around the side of the old factory in the way and met directly the street leading up towards the hit. The rising road disappeared into dust. I hurried in the direction of the sound I don’t think I will ever forget – of a woman who had just three minutes ago seen the apartment with her family in it disappear. She kept calling out a name – a girl’s name. I don’t know anything for sure but I couldn’t help but think it was her daughter. People don’t scream out names like that unless it means something. Her friend’s soothing words lapped at her in the same order of futility as the lapping of her hands, as this young woman I didn’t have the courage to look at directly, not once, paced and paced around.
Dust. Two figures ahead stood out like a scene from 9/11. One was a policeman with an electric phone that kept jumping in his fingers when he tried to use it, and the guy in his ear trying to desperately tell him things sure wasn’t helping anyone back to ground.
To my left, a fire had broken out in the five story apartment block – black smoke picking up speed. But not a single person even looked at that building – it was the other on my right that carried all the grief. The strike had decimated the top floor of a residential apartment, and spiked right down through the floor beneath that. The entire area was covered in a fine film of white dust as if it were not a bomb that had gone off but a volcano, or perhaps that’s just because our baseline for understanding anything is natural, and natural this was not.
“Pomageet!” “Help” shouted the woman, not to me, not to anyone – to everyone – from somewhere in the dust an echo away. The policeman with the man in his ear and the electrified phone moved away, and for a moment I stood alone under the strike looking up. Rubble so giant around me that some came almost head height up. A giant insulated ventilation tube, and water rising in a tide around my feet, and I don’t know how or why but there was a car tyre lying on its side, filling up, and then the fluttering of pages. A homework book – with geometry – maths. A kid’s homework book. I tore my shock away and looked up…
…just as there was movement in the first room still intact along to the right on the fifth floor. A man about my age reached out of the glassless window for something to hold onto – his whole body manoeuvring to get out. There was no fire behind him – everything was still. No need to climb out of a five story window at all. None. It occurred to me that this ghost emerging, apparently unhurt, was in a state of automotive shock. He leant right out to reach for a small piece of wood jutting off the roof behind him. I could see from my position the plank was there just like him – by accident – and neither was in a state to offer support. But he had to get out – to get away from what he had just been through. Not be in there anymore.
“Ostorozhno!” I shouted “Watch out!” “Stay there. Help will come.” I am not sure if he even heard me – his hand touched the wood which immediately betrayed its uselessness by coming away with his hand, and he drew himself back inside. I looked for a way to go inside myself. There was a crooked old wood-slatted door behind the debris, broken a little from one of the giants of wired concrete that had fallen around. I used the trapped edge of the tire not to tread in the water and picked my way toward the door. The bereaved woman’s yearning and pleading and needing this not to be happening continued out like an unearthly primal call. It was no good – the door was jammed shut and it was instantly clear nothing I could do with all my strength was going to break through. Each of the windows on the ground floor was secured with metal bars – no one ever thought when fitting them how much they might want others some day to come in.
I climbed back out through the flooded rubble again, noticing the flames on the other side had turned into an inferno, and imagining others with a reason to get out. Oblivious to the utter lack of focus of my own first two minutes on the scene, I hurried over to that door. This one had a giant metal padlock on it, which I took to mean no one was in there – but I couldn’t easily write off a need for that level of help off the back of a wistful thought. More windows barred off.
An orderly guy in his late twenties appeared at my shoulder talking out his shock. “We need to get in there” I tried to articulate in deplorable Russian made worse by my own, as I pointed at the fire, black smoke pouring upward from the windows so thickly you couldn’t even breathe outside nevermind in. But the man was only interested in the building on the other side, with the flood and the top floor disappeared, about which the mother or friend or I don’t know who screamed out defiantly now – as if through her anger she could make reality choose a different end. And by his reference to “people live there - suka” I understood people didn’t in the other building with the fire, so I flicked the switch of my focus again as if it were a light in a power cut.
That guy moved off. Another emerged near an emergency van which might have been there already, I honestly don’t know. He looked like an official emergency person so I told him there was a “Man there on the fifth floor. He is not hurt but needs help.” Maybe he didn’t understand or maybe it wasn’t as important as something else because that was the end of that.
I didn’t know what else to do. More people started arriving to stop. Helplessness shows itself in a meandering towards a standstill, which you notice with a ‘do-something!’ frustration when you see it in others until you realise you are also stood in one spot. An ambulance arrived, then a giant firetruck rolled in – which I assumed from its round-curve, toy-shaped antiquity was a backup because of the other strikes in town. And I had to accept that the people actually equipped to help were here – to do what could be done – that I wasn’t needed, and my feet meandered me away.
Just as I got towards the main road, two cars swung round in front of me, one a bright coloured BMW driven by someone desperate. I had to step out of the way – all erratic swerves and foot on the pedal, the car behind him was just the same. I looked where they went and only at that moment realised what a fool I had been – of course I couldn’t get into the building from that side – it was the door that most apartment blocks never bother even opening – the main entrance was in the yard behind.
So I turned and went after the BMW, who knew this well already. The guy, youngish, with a jumper made of fine wool – was the first person I came across who was on it. Knowing what he needed to do. Was straight over to the gas wheel on the side of the building before he even looked at the damage done. Winding it off, and only then to the decimation.
On that side of the building stood many people all staring up. The bereaved lady was here too, and that name – that girl’s name she kept calling was now less bereavement or anger, and somehow more hope that a different outcome might actually emerge from what deep inside she knew could not. As I approached the crowd, an elderly lady after midnight in her years stepped bewildered from the building next to the one that was crushed. The skin on her face was heavy with age and pulled at the pink of her eyelids like cats on a curtain, made even pinker by her shock. I can’t imagine how she had stayed together through that thunderousness, nevermind her composure but her bones. She halted side-on just to step down from the curb. I extended my hand – she took it for more than the support she needed to step down. There was no one with her, and part of me thought I should stay as I let her keep my hand until she had crossed to the yard park, before I realised I would just add to her confusion not speaking in a language she understood and was better letting her get herself together alone.
Around a dozen people were standing outside looking up at the missing couple of floors. A man staggered out of the building that was hit – head to toe in dust but no sign of injury – just pure white shock – one hand out ahead of him as if it had long ago given up waiting for a piano to play. He moved past me to people who knew words that could reach him. It was only later I realised it was probably the man who was trying to climb out of the window. I looked past him to the door he had found to emerge from. All debris on the ground here too. No police or firemen were on this side whatever, which I took to mean the people up in the crushed floors had no first responders. I looked aghast at the bunch of guys barely out of their teens staring up, wondering why they were just standing there, not realising that I just hadn’t seen who had already gone in. I refused to be statically helpless, so moved toward the open door, clambering through rubble to get to the entrance, ducking below a bent lip of concrete. Some insides really are like the bellies of whales, and the sounds coming from outside father echoes from the din.
It was just a normal regular stairwell at the bottom and dust. I could hear the bereaved woman calling up to someone I was afraid was going to be the first person I’d see. The second floor was the same as the first – you couldn’t tell there was anything amiss apart from the dust. Then, as I reached the third floor, I saw from the window the elderly lady I had helped lead out come close to the building and started calling out now too – but to a lower floor and with a different name. Less desperate and more of an ‘are you okay?’ There were sets of three closed doors that I thought about knocking on, but from all I could gather there was no emergency this low down. As I started past the third floor I heard the scratch of movement above – someone alive. And then suddenly someone running – the guy who was on it from the BMW running down past me as he looked on his phone for a number to dial. I moved to what must have been the fourth floor before the floors ceased to be. A large policeman with a flack jacket and for some reason a kalashnikov was standing in the hallway looking into an apartment to the right, while others inside worked. From the look on his face and that helplessness, there was nothing I was going to be able to do even if he had let me go in.
“Can I help?” I asked, or tried, as he too looked to his phone and started coming down again, but I have always had a problem with how to say this phrase properly and right now I was far from my articulate best. He gave me enough attention to understand that he couldn’t understand, and just told me that someone was “Balliyeet” - “Hurt”. I said that I had seen an ambulance arrive – I will go and get them – and ran back down the stairs ahead of him.
Sure enough, outside, one of the ambulances had parked off down to my right, and three medics in orange suits stood in a line waiting to be used. I shouted out the same word the policemen had used, “Hurt”, adding “People” and “there” in arbitrary places, not even thinking about what others around might have felt when they heard.
“I don’t understand. What do you want?” called out the shortest in the line, a woman also on it, but for me at that moment apparently not.
I tried to repeat what was going on and she shouted back a reason why she was not going to do anything so I followed the policeman who came out behind me and sidled over towards his boss, and politely barked at him to tell the ambulance women about the injured. Either his shock didn’t know how to deal with me or it was at this point he realised it was just easiest if I was ignored – he reported to his colleagues that someone had their arm trapped – so I left them to it and went over to talk not shout to the ambulance lady, finding calm and articulacy at last.
“I am sorry. I am English and don’t speak Russian well. Someone is injured in there.”
“I understand, but we have orders to wait until the area is cleared, or the injured are brought to us” is what I think she said, or something along those lines. And we nodded out a respectful and sad conclusion to our conversation, and I moved off again so as not to be in anyone’s way. It’s all very well having the will to help, but if you can’t even communicate in situations like this, you are about as useful as a flood to a well.
The last thing I saw was the twenty-year old guys deciding it was time to see if they could do something too, and were clambering over the rubble to go up. And I just walked away because where giving help was concerned, there seemed nothing more I could do. And there was just as much likelihood of help being needed in the centre as here – a total of seven explosions I had heard.
As I descended back down towards the road, I noticed another guy at the gas wheel, and realised he could turn it back on. “A guy closed it off,” I called to him and he stopped. And then I left feeling mostly helpless as I set off down towards the centre still simmering from the shock.
I half expected the whole city to be in a state of frantic emergency, but it huddled instead beneath the lead of a winter-like chill. I patted the dust off the hood of my hoodie and my rainproof coat, while looking out for the other points of impact. Two soldiers all warily stood drew my eyes to the location of one – I saw the crater behind them on a path near a residential garden with crude tarmac scattered around in black fist-sized clumps.
There was a smattering of debris in the town centre too – but no sign of an actual burst – and I realised by a soldier newly arrived with friend by his side and an oblivious laugh upon his face that this was not where it was worst. None of the moon-eyed shock or emergency – just the edge of alertness in some, the bowed chill in others, and a black dog running for the sake of running as if survival was not about being safe but first.
It turned out where I had been was one of the single largest losses Slovyansk had seen since the war’s beginning. I realised when I showed up the next afternoon in my work clothes to help clear up that part of me was here to help, sure, but the other felt I was wearing a suit and black tie, and it were not gloves in my hands but flowers, and the victims my kin. Press, some two score firemen, neighbours struck with grief, and World Central Kitchens serving food and hot drinks. I asked the firemen and the Kitchens people about lending a hand but they all said the same – that volunteer groups were not working the site and neither would tomorrow likely be any different. I remembered the disaster had another flank to it and went round to in the yard. I saw the elderly lady from yesterday, who was stood outside again, with a tall, ruddy descendant behind her, and no recognition when she replied to my “Zdrasty” not “Dobry den”. I stopped a passing guy, a friend of one of the surviving residents it turned out, who I saw from the dust was in the order of pall-bearer, and with my bright orange gloves in hand like a bunch of chrysanthemums, told him I was here yesterday when it happened, and he led me back up to the top of the building as if anyone here yesterday had a right to help today. Again my lack of language made it impossible to be of any use – as the guy who brought me up went off climbing on his own away from the rest of the group, leaving me with the firemen to figure out what I could possibly do– which involved standing with five mostly helmeted men in a hallway as my guy shovelled debris into the opening in front of us from above while a crane knocked down walls to our right. After the roof of the stairwell I had just came up was knocked half down, and the only two other civilians ran down it to minimise the time under its threats to collapse, I stood and waited for instruction, until four more helmeted firemen showed up with no indication that there was even a job for me to do, except I suppose not be in the way of the crane’s pounding. So I took the initiative and told the latest arrivals not to stand under the recently collapsed stairwell roof. “Newly fallen” I tried to say, which they couldn’t decrypt while casually ascending, and I realised that this was not a place to have no language, so I paid my respects to the girl’s pink winter boot, the school history book, the pack of new socks with the heels somehow removed, and hurried down the slowly roofless stairwell with the sunshine now coming through.
I never learnt who died. There are reports that as many as 15 were killed, one a child of four. And I don’t know who that lady was who was calling. Or who she was calling for.
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2023.05.18 05:42 Rainbow6SiegeCreator What If Legends and Canon Merged? Part 12 - Rebirth of the Jedi

During the Founding of the New Republic, Leia and a few other politicians had begun forming the new government on Coruscant Hosnian Prime for influences on all sectors of the Galaxy. Han Solo and Chewbacca had gained prominence within the new republic military and had come to accept Jedi in his ranks. He saw another wookiee by the name of Gungi and saw that he was a Jedi, and his first reaction was to let his new brother-in-law, Luke Skywalker become aware of his presence in the Force.
As Luke had negotiated a deal with the newlyweds, Han and Leia Organa Solo, Luke had incorporated using blasters as back up weapons in his newly developed lightsaber forms. This was primarily with the help of a Jedi he had found on the world of Florrum, by the name of Cal Kestis. Like his current apprentice, he had lost many teachers throughout the reign of the Empire, but he had remained deep in the light, despite the dark decades past, because of his wife, Merrin Kestis standing by his side for many years.
Cal: I take it that you are Luke Skywalker?
Luke: Yes, I am. Who might you be?
Cal: I am a Jedi. When I heard the news of Vader and the Emperor being destroyed, I knew a Jedi had to be the one to destroy the Sith. Also, I haven't heard the name Skywalker in quite a long time.
Luke: You may be referring to my father, Anakin Skywalker.
Cal: Now, I remember.
As the 3 Jedi made their way to Kestis's transport, the copper and silver haired Jedi had grown suspicious of Luke's apprentice.
Luke: Master Yoda had become onenwith the Force. He has entrusted the title of Grandmaster to me. This new order will be one that has learned from the mistakes made by masters long since passed. Will you assist me in bringing about a new age for the Jedi?
Cal: If I say yes, will I be working with clones?
Luke: I can understand your distrust of any soldier created on Kamino. I have met and listened to many clones regale of the war and have fought alongside a few of them. My apprentice may be a clone, but from what he has told me of his origins, he is not a Jango Fett Clone.
Cal: What is your name, padawan?
X2: My name is Ferroda Grey. I was cloned, but my progenitor was a Jedi. His name was Falon Grey. I took the name I have from the Jedi I had served under; Master Ferroda.
Cal: I have heard of him. He was a wise consular and I had heard from my former clone platoon that he had two twin clones under his command, and one of them led the troops.
X2: That would be me and my brother. Back then we were known as X1 and X2. I was the latter.
Cal: I see. Skywalker, I will join your new order.
Luke: Thank you, Master Kestis.
Cal: I haven't been made a master, much less a knight.
Luke: Come to Ach-To. I will make sure you are.
As the two parties went their separate ways, Luke's hunt for more Jedi continues. Back on Mandalore, Bo-Katan has been preparing for the day that the Empire would barge through her palace doors and try to take her down. It is with an update from Ahsoka that makes he alter her plans another time.
Ahsoka: The Emperor is dead.
Bo-Katan: Then the Empire is vulnerable. We need to take them down now!
Starkiller38: What about Maul's forces? If we let them take down the Empire, they will be exhausted become vulnerable themselves.
Juno: And once you take down Gideon, You can safely rule Mandalore while Lady Tano keeps Maul at bay.
Bo-Katan: Fine. We wait until Gideon makes a mistake.
Ahsoka: I also know more people who can help.
Bo-Katan: Who might they be?
Ahsoka: Do you remember the last time we came to Mandalore and took down clan Saxon?
Bo-Katan: Yes. It was with clones, A few Jedi, you among them, and the Wren girl.
Ahsoka: Sabine and Ezra would be instrumental to bringing down Gideon and Maul both.
Bo-Katan: I see. Where are they then?
Ahsoka: Sabine has been residing on Lothal since the Empire was liberated there, but as for Ezra, his location is a bit more difficult to pinpoint.
Starkiller: Juno and I can find Ezra. What kind of ship would he be in?
Ahsoka: A star destroyer. Somewhere in the Unknown Regions, I think.
Juno: I'll get the Rogue Shadow ready for launch.
Proxy: Master, We have arrived to the preeminence of a war, and are we about to leave?
Starkiller: No, Proxy. Juno and I are going to find another Jedi. You are going to stay here and pose as either Lady Tano, myself, or a bounty hunter to throw off any that may have been hired to fight.
Proxy: Accessing combat programming, Master.
Proxy then changed into Ahsoka as the real Togruta boarded her T-6 shuttle and Starkiller and Juno boarded the Rogue Shadow in search for Ezra.
Satine: Wait! Lady Tano! I wanna go with you!
Bo-Katan: Satine, She is going to do something important. You need to maintain your studies. If you are to take the throne one day, you need to train like one and rule like one.
Satine: I want to learn the ways of the Jedi alongside the Mandalorian ways. I might even learn more about my father.
Ahsoka: It's fine if you come with me. Bo, She will be safe with me, she can even learn how to fight with a blade til she takes the Darksaber.
Bo-Katan: Fine. You can go with the Jedi.
Satine: Thanks, Mom!
With Maul's forces, he, Lady Relicta, and a few of his Loyal Specialists, nightbrothers, and Nightsisters had landed on Onderon under the cover of night with no intent on killing anyone, even though they have traveled to a world that has not yet learned of the death of the Emperor. Maul had come to hear of this after getting a report about the Empire's vulnerability at its highest.
Maul: Maintain your positions, everyone. The insurgents should meet us at any second.
When a reconnaissance patrol of rebels led by a local by the name of Gleius Bonterri spotted the group, the figures raised their hands and slowly stood to their feet.
Bonterri: Are you the ones who answered our call to help?
Maul: Yes. We wish to speak to your leaders. If you are going to take the fight to the Empire, you need to outthink them. These aren't battle droids of old.
Bonterri: Follow us back to camp.
As the recon party brought Maul to the camp, a newly promoted rebel came to greet them. Something about him seemed familiar to him since he had read about one Saw Gererra during the time of Imperial rule.
Leader: You must be the advisors sent to help our cause.
Maul: Right you are. I am Maul. This is my apprentice, Lady Relicta, my brother, Deciim, my sister, Valas, my military specialist and your instructor, Rook Cast, and my followers, Herul Umbrias, Hammer Liyon, and Ezor Gastun.
Leader: Pleasure to meet you all. My name is Ohlen Gererra, You've met Gleius Bonterri, and my heaviest hitter and top spy, Lady Lumiya.
Maul: Gererra? Are you perhaps related to one Saw Gererra?
Ohlen: Why yes. He was my uncle. Steela was my aunt and when I learned what happened to her, my parents and I went to her funeral as we became liberated from the Separatists. When we resisted Imperial rule, my parents were killed 25 years ago when I was a boy. I want to give my children an Onderon that is free. All of us do.
Maul: This cause is noble, and one I can get behind. I also bring news that the Empire will no doubt discredit and attempt to suppress.
During the conversation between the two leaders, they had agreed to a mutual liberation of Onderon and Mandalore. As Maul left with Cast and the Mandalorians to train the Onderon rebels like the Republic of old did a generation prior.
On the planet of Vjun, Lord Cain had been contacting Moff Gideon of important news. After the moff heard what had shocked many officers like him, Gideon had begun seeking to gain his new Emperor's favor.
Gideon: My Emperor, The Jedi are off world and the rebels are vulnerable. If we strike now, the Mandalorians will no longer need a reason to rebel.
Cain: Keep your forces at bay and eliminate the threat of Maul. He poses a more diverse and brutal force. Remove the larger threat before you take on the smaller one and the smaller one will be child's play.
Gideon: Yes, my Emperor.
At Luke's temple on Yavin 4, many figures in robes had been awaiting near the landing pad for the one who beckoned them to this place.
X2: Master, we have visitors.
Luke: There are more Jedi who answered a holomessage made by Kestis. We shall meet them and if they wish to join us, teach those that want to learn.
X2: Yes, Master.
As Luke and Grey exited their ship to greet the group of hooded figures, who had removed their hoods to reveal many different races of beings. These Jedi were Quinlan Vos, Gungi, Cal Kestis, and Jacen Syndulla.
Luke: Thank you all for coming. I am Luke Skywalker, some of you would know Anakin Skywalker, my father. As you have no doubt felt through the Force, balance has been restored. If the Force is to be kept in balance, a new order must emerge from the ashes of old. If you wish to join this new order, you will learn everything that the Force has to offer, no matter the supposed orientation of those abilities.
The group had discussed amongst themselves with Cal Kestis guiding the group to follow the new grandmaster. After another small discussion, the rest of the group had become unanimous in their decision to join Luke's order.
As operations were underway across the galaxy, another confrontation that had staggered longer than both parties had liked had one of their returns to normal conversation.
Ezra: In the time I've been stuck with you, you tell me that the Empire's arms are to fight this extragalactic threat?
Thrawn: Yes, Bridger. How many times must I explain this to you?
Ezra: I just know that the Empire has forgotten about you, and that's enough for my friends to keep fighting them.
Thrawn: Since you and I share this predicament, your friends may have forgotten you as well. Since we have been stuck in orbit above this planet for years, we need to find a place to land or we will die.
Ezra: Fine. The sooner we get out of this, the better.
As the two separated themselves, a ship came out of hyperspace and snuck aboard the abandoned vessel. When the vessel landed, Ezra felt another presence in the Force and made his way towards it.
Ezra: Ahsoka! How did you find -
What surprised him was a human male armed with two blades and found a blaster to use against this probable attacker.
Starkiller: Easy, now. My name is Starkiller. I was sent by Lady Tano to rescue you.
As the two were about to shake hands, the ship began to violently shake.
Ezra: Do you have a ship?
Starkiller: I do. It should be in the lower hangar bay.
As the two Jedi made their way to the hangar, Thrawn had steered the ship to crash into the nearby planet. As he made his way to the escape pods, he began setting a distress beacon for any Imperial vessel passing by.
On Coruscant, Luke had visited the Solo residence which had continued to give Luke visions of his father and mother no matter the room he entered. As he saw his nephew, Ben, Leia had sat him down and had continued talking to him about training Ben in the ways of the Force.
Leia: I'm so glad you decided to stop by. I know you get tired of me saying this, but you teaching Ben about the Force could be good for him.
Luke: Leia, you know that decision is Ben's to make, not yours or mine.
Leia: How did you become Obi-Wan's padawan then?
Luke: He knew that my uncle wouldn't allow it, but I convinced him to let me. Obi-Wan had guided me in the ways of the Force, and taught me everything I wanted to know, and other aspects of it I needed.
Leia: You CHOSE to be a Jedi?
Luke: Yes. Unlike the order of old that fell to the Empire, we will give beings sensitive to the Force a choice whether they want to learn or not.
As the siblings continued to talk about Ben's fate, Ahsoka had begun talking to Sabine about joining the battle on Mandalore.
Aboard the escape pod, a star destroyer in hyperspace had seen the escape pod and pulled it through with its tractor beam. As Thrawn woke up to see he was in a hangar, he composed himself and exited the escape pod to see stormtroopers stand at attentionas he walked to the bridge. As the Chiss grand Admiral entered the bridge, he saw a figure in a dark robe. This figure turned around and beckoned him to another room.
Cain: Grand Admiral Thrawn, you've been gone a long time, old friend.
Thrawn: Forgive me, my absence has taken my awareness away from the galaxy, but how is it that you know me?
Cain: Do you remember the occupation of Lothal?
Thrawn: Yes. I remember watching an ISB Agent who turned out to be a traitor.
Cain: Do you remember an officer that used a lightsaber?
Thrawn had continued to search through his memories and found an officer that wielded a blue blade against the Jedi in that rebel cell.
Thrawn: Yes. It truly has been a long time, Commander.
Cain: My name is Darth Cain, now.
Thrawn: Lord Vader has trained you well, then.
Cain: He has, but he has betrayed the Empire. The Emperor is no more.
Thrawn: Then they have not heeded my warnings. What is the state of the Empire?
Cain: I have become its new figurehead and I rule through fear. I need some cemented loyalty or else the Empire will continue to fracture.
Thrawn: I will gather the rest of the Imperial officers and hold a meeting. Join me as we solidify and seal the cracks within this Empire.
Cain: Thank you. I'll make sure you maintain your prestige.
Thrawn: Thank you, my Emperor.
On Onderon, Gererra had led his forces while Cast and the mandalorians watched from the roof tops and as the people cheered for their liberators, the Empire began to take notice. As the AT-ATs near the palace focused their attacks onnthe storming charge of rebels, the Mandalorians took their Jetpack rockets and aimed at one Walker's neck. As the Walker fell, many rebels from the buildings fired rocket launchers smuggled from mandalore, Florrum, and Zanbar. As the Imperial ruler had begun to panic, he ordered his Phase I dark trooper guards to hunt down those rebels. As the Squadron of dark troopers made their ways out of the palace, a few had run into Deciim and Valas. The nightbrother had used his blunt-axe to smash through one portion of the Dark troopers, while Valas used her energy bow, daggers and Teras Kasi on another. As the two met in the main atrium, Ohlen had his troops surround the Imperial Moff as they paraded him to the front steps as the battle subsided, the citizens of Onderon cheered for their liberators as the Imperial Moff was brought to the chopping block. Rook Cast made a proclamation of freedom to te people and introduced Gererra as the hero.
Rook: Citizens of Onderon, the Empire no longer has the power it once possessed! The battle for your freedom has been won and this Moff's head will signify that you are a free people! A people of liberty, combat, and resilience! The hero who has orchestrated the removal of Imperial oppression has been one of your own. Allow me to introduce to you, Ohlen Gererra!
When the crowd roared in applause, Ohlen took the podium, He stared daggers into the fear-stricken and angry Imperial moff as he spoke.
Ohlen: Thank you, thank you! For years, we have suffered under the Empire's thumb. No more! They had developed a superweapon that had wiped out a peaceful planet. The Empire made a fatal mistake in doing so. My uncle, Saw Gererra was on the planet when it was destroyed, facing a trial, being charged with using necessary tactics and giving the Empire what they truly deserve. In a way, the Alliance paid the price for pacifist tactics, but since the Empire killed my uncle, I hope he is watching this unfold with my aunt Steela. As for the Empire, we will remove their shackles by force, just like we will remove this final leech from our planet's veins!
The crowd continued cheering and slowly quieted down as Deciim moved to decapitate, Cast nodded to him and Deciim stepped away and presented Ohlen with his weapon.
Deciim: Since this is a victory for not only Onderon, but for your family, I believe that you should perform the honors.
Ohlen then left the podium and examined Deciim's blunt are and found the sharp and of the blade and accepted it. He then moved to the block as two of the rebels kept him restrained. Ohlen felt that the blad ewas very dense. He had done his best to lift it and with great effort, he held the sharp blade and brought down the mighty weapon, ending the Moff's life.
Ohlen: For Onderon!!!!!
The exhausted leader had tried picking up the weapon again, but as he returned the weapon, a couple Onderonian rebels carried him back to the podium.
Deciim: It's alright, Commander. Your people are waiting.
Ohlen returned to the podium to speak as the crowd slowly quieted.
Ohlen: Forgive my shortness of breath, but it has been a long and tiresome fight for liberation, freedom, and the removal of Imperial oppression. I know this planet needs a ruler, but I will not take the throne. We have seen the results of a power hungry militant on the throne. For your new ruler, please welcome my greatest friend, my voice of reason, and my inspiration to liberate this planet; Gleius Bonterri.
The crowd had cheered as the royal garb was placed on Bonterri's person and Bonterri began to speak. During the inaugural speech, Ohlen had met with his advisors and Maul.
Ohlen: Lord Maul, we have done as you asked. I am a hero to Onderon and Bonterri has taken the throne.
Maul: Excellent, Gererra. Where is Bonterri now?
Cast: Bonterri is giving a speech to the people about his rule.
Maul: Is the Empire extinct on this world?
Deciim: Yes, Elder Brother, I had given the honor to Gererra to give the crowd the hero they deserved.
Maul: Very good, Brother. We must assure that the planet will stand with Mandalore as a "mutual liberation" from the Empire.
Ohlen: I'll make sure that Bonterri knows.
Maul: Excellent. All is going according to plan.
As Bonterri begins speaking of showing Mandalore their same Freedom, Cast and the Mandalorians each had a small wound in their pride, but knew that this will be for the better in the end.
On Mandalore, Gideon prepares his troops for an assault on the rebels and Bo-Katan, and a defense from Maul's Forces. Dengar had been growing tired of waiting as he began to snipe a Nite Owl guard as the Stormtroopers readied for a charge. This was stopped by Gideon who wanted to eliminate every heavy hitting player on each side.
When Ahsoka had arrived on Lothal, Sabine had returned from stopping an Imperial raid of the city. The mandalorian had stayed on Lothal hoping for Ezra to return to see his home flourish after removing the yolk of Imperial rule.
Ahsoka: Sabine, we need you.
Sabine: Ahsoka, it’s been a while. What leads have you found on Ezra?
Ahsoka: Another ally of mine is looking into it. Right now, Mandalore is under threat once again.
Sabine: The planet doesn’t need me anymore. My mother understood why I made my choices when I helped liberate Mandalore the first time.
Ahsoka: That’s just it. I understand that you’ve been gone a long time, but your mother…
Sabine: Last time I saw her she had the darksaber because Bo-Katan wouldn’t accept it again.
Ahsoka gave her a look that told Sabine the gravest news she would’ve ever heard. Sabine had let the news hit her slowly and began to let tears flow.
Sabine: [Through her tears] I never even got to truly say goodbye. How did she die?
Ahsoka had shared her sympathy to the young mandalorian as she gave her the story of her mother's passing.
Ahsoka: Your mother died protecting Mandalore against the Empire.
Sabine: From what Bo-Katan had told me last time she made contact with me, the event that changed Mandalore was called "The Night of a Thousand Tears," I think it was.
Ahsoka: She was killed and the darksaber was taken from her.
Sabine: When to I find the son of a gundark who took her life?
Ahsoka: As much as I can agree with you, Bo-Katan is going to kill him in single combat. Another larger threat is also trying to kill him, and Bo-Katan.
Sabine: Who?
Ahsoka: Maul.
From that name, Sabine had heard tales of an outsider taking the rule of Mandalore from Clan Vizsla. Her mother told her that it was the very Jedi who she was conversing with at this moment.
Back with Bo-Katan's base, Starkiller had briefed Ezra about Gideon's forces as well as Maul's. Proxy had seen his Master's return with another Jedi and when he got to cover, he changed his form to that of Ahsoka Tano.
When Ahsoka and Satine Returned, Wren had began talking with Bo-Katan.
Sabine: Lady Kryze.
Bo-Katan: Wren.
Sabine: When do I execute my Mother's killer?
Bo-Katan: It's not going to be that simple.
As Satine made her way back to her home, Ahsoka had brought her squad to prepare for a defense.
With the Empire, Gideon began sending a message to Dengar about leading the assault.
Gideon: Now, you may begin attacking the Rebels.
Dengar: Finally, you're pockets are about to be pretty empty by the time we're done here.
As Dengar and a few squads of stormtroopers charged the rebel defenses, Ahsoka contacted Bo-Katan.
Ahsoka: Bo, The Empire decided to attack us first! A bounty hunter is leading the first waves!
Bo-Katan: On my way. Satine, get to cover.
Satine: OK, mom.
During the fighting, Sabine and Ezra reunited in a loving embrace, but soon broke it off due to the fight ahead.
Sabine: I can't believe it's you, Ezra!
Ezra: Neither can I, Sabine.
Sabine: I think this is yours.
Sabine then hands Ezra his lightsaber that she had kept in her possession for years.
Ezra: Thanks. We really need to talk about what's happened when this is over.
Back with the battle, Ezra joined Starkiller and Sabine joined Ahsoka with her unique armor on. The color scheme she chose had elements of Morrai on one of the shoulder pads, the Ghost Squadron symbol on the other, a Loth-Wolf print on her helmet, and various uses of Yellow, brown, green, white, and purple throughout the rest of the plating.
Dengar had taken a position taking shots at Sabine, thinking she was the easiest target. As Ezra saw this, he had seen Starkiller decimate through legions of stormtroopers in fractions of seconds with displays of the Force more astonishing than what he had seen from X1, Kanan, and Kota years ago. As Ezra flanked around and got in close, Dengar whipped around and fired a few shots trying to make Ezra falter enough for a clean shot. This was the distraction Sabine needed to land a few shots into his back, butting an end to the bounty hunter. As the two retreated back to friendly territory, Sabine told Bo-Katan that Gideon was sending Air support to take down the palace.
Sabine: Bo-Katan, The Empire is sending air support! We have to stop them!
Bo-Katan: I'll launch some Fangs and Gauntlets to take them on.
Starkiller: I'm heading back to the palace, I'll see if I can hold those interceptors!
Bo-Katan: I thought Eclipse was the pilot, Starkiller. We need you here on the ground!
Starkiller: I never said I was a pilot.
As the 3 combatants heard him say it, they double timed it to the castle as Ahsoka ad been deflecting blaster fire with Proxy taking the form of Ezra as Imperial numbers fell.
When Starkiller made it to high ground and saw Interceptors and bombers coming, he saw the Mandalorian ships take flight and began using the Force to grip a Bomber in his right hand and an interceptor in his left hand and crush them both, throwing them at the next ships that were following them.
As the battle above got more hectic, Gideon had seen the massive display of the Force and had begun to fear that what may remain of his forces won't survive against Maul. He then ordered his contingent of Death troopers, EVO Troopers, Jump Troopers, Scouts, and shadow troopers to defend against the rebels.
Gideon: I want all the interceptors and bombers to retreat back to base. Maul still needs to be dealt with.
Stormtrooper: Yes, Sir.
As Maul's army emerged from hyperspace in red and black Gauntlets and Fangs, Maul had watched the battle above and planned his attack accordingly.
Maul: The time to liberate Mandalore is at hand, my brothers and sisters!! Ohlen, you and your forces will be on the ground attacking any Imperials you find. The beskar armor you are wearing will protect against many blaster bolts. Mandalorians, you will take the fight to the Alliance. If there are Jedi, you will let the night brothers and sisters handle them. I do not deny your capabilities against them, but they are many. Lady Relicta, You will lead the Nightbrothers and sisters against the Jedi. With them out of the picture, I will have no other obstacles in defeating both Kryze and the Imperial with the saber.
The fleet had then moved to their coordinated attacks and both sides had to fight their own battles. As Ohlen led the ground assault against the Imperial troops, Bo-Katan had led the assault against Maul's commandos, while Darth Relicta, Deciim, Valas, and the other Dathomirians had found the Jedi. As the trio of Force users saw the group, they readied themselves. When Relicta looked upon the trio that stood to face them, she had a look of rage on her face, looking at the man who took her masters away, something that she knew couldn't be true, because she had killed him on Dathomir. When Starkiller noticed the Zabrak female, he then focused on his target.
Relicta: You! I killed you on Dathomir!
Starkiller: That was a clone of the man who took your master! As am I!
Relicta: I will rid the galaxy of your face and avenge my masters!!!
As the clone and Zabrak clashed blades, Ahsoka and Ezra clashed with the blades of the nightbrothers and dodged the attacks of the nightsisters.
Ahsoka: Ezra, Disarm them and prevent them from using their magic!
As Ezra fought off the nightsisters, he left most of them without any hands. When he turned to Valas, she was fierce in her attacks, but Ezra had put an end to her by slicing her in half by the waist. The young Jedi then saw Ahsoka fight the nightbrothers off until only Deciim remained. As the enchanted blade clashed with the pure white sabers, Ezra had to find an opening. Ahsoka then exploited a weak point in Deciim's leg and buckled one of his knees leading to her decapitating him with her right blade and his right hand with her left shoto.
When Maul found Gideon, he was about to challenge him, until two Jedi appeared to stop them.
Maul: What a surprise! Lady Tano. You bring a boy with you to stop me?
Tano: Can't say the same, Maul. You'll never wield the darksaber again. Not while Mandalore is free from Imperial Rule.
Maul: That is exactly what I am doing. Freeing this planet from taking a side in this war!
Gideon: You abandoned this blade when Mamdalore fell to the Republic of old. You are no longer worthy to wield this blade.
As Gideon says that, his shadow troopers come in and attempt to destroy the Jedi and Sith. As the troopers fall to the blade, Gideon had escaped to kill Bo-Katan.
Ahsoka: You want that saber, you will have to go through me!
Maul: So be it, Jedi.
Ahsoka: I'm no Jedi.
Those words had shocked Ezra, but as he got his head back into the fight, Ezra then tried to find openings whenever he could.
As Gideon made his way to the front lines, he had cut down many rebels to find Bo-Katan and kill her.
When Lady Kryze saw the familiar black blade, through the blaster fire, she called to the Moff for the challenge.
Bo-Katan: Gideon!!! I challenge you, one warrior to another! Only the strongest shall rule Mandalore!!!
Gideon: All troops cease fire. Lady Bo-Katan, What an honor it is to see your fighting spirit again. I accept your challenge.
The Super commandos and Alliance Mandalorians, as well as the Imperials backed away from the fight as they knew what was going down. The Rebels had then found an opening to flank around, a couple squads at a time, to find and execute other Imperial forces. As Starkiller made his was to meet those forces, he stopped them from going into the trap of elite Imperial troops.
Statkiller: Watch out! Those troops can kill you in more ways than a Hutt tortures a droid. I'll handle the shadow troopers, just cover me by taking out the snipers and jump troopers.
Rebel 1: Yes, Sir.
With the fight going on, Bo-Katan had put most of her rage into her strikes against Gideon, but the Moff had thrown her back about 5 times already. As Kryze looked like she was about to yield, Sabine was watching and knew that something had to be done. As Gideon moved for a killing strike, Bo-Katan then fired one of her pistols into his leg, causing Gideon to drop the blade. As Kryze took the weapon for herself, she held it to his throat.
Bo-Katan: Yield.
As Gideon felt the heat from the blackened blade, he had begun thinking that submitting to her would mean that she would be slaughtered by Maul. On the other hand, he knew that he needed to maintain control of Mandalore with it, since the Empire was falling from both sides, he made his decision.
Gideon: I yield.
As the Mandalorians celebrated, Maul knew that his backup plan had to involve eliminating Bo-Katan. With Relicta, her fight with Starkiller had ended with her disarmed and forced to retreat. As the Sith apprentice retreated under a Force Cloak, Maul knew that he would have his chance to kill more Jedi another time.
As the Onderonians saw their leaders retreat, Ohlen had seen that Mandalore was liberated, following the battle. Maul had grown furious with the Gererra descendant. As the army had regrouped on Zanbar, Ohlen and his Forces were surrounded by Maul and his army.
Ohlen: Maul? What is this?
Maul: You disobeyed my orders to attack the rebels!
Ohlen: They were to understand true freedom just as the Mandalorians did!! We only did this to remove the Empire!
Maul: Then you misread our agreement. Execute them!
Ohlen knew that Maul was going to betray him, so his contingency plan was to have Lumiya reveal herself from among the group of Onderonians and attack Maul to capture him.
Ohlen: Now!
Lumiya activated her light-whip and aimed for Maul's neck, but Maul ducked under it. Relicta had caught it with her on blade and pulled her with the Force and her tonfa blade to engage her.
What both Forces didn't know was that a couple Jedi hid among the Onderonians and brought the fight to each Sith. Ezra volunteered to infiltrate Gererra's forces and another Jedi had accompanied him, unbeknownst to the two groups. A wookiee had begun wielding an emerald blade and assisted Ezra in fighting Maul.
Ohlen had picked up the heavy blunt-axe that executed the Grand Moff and tried helping Lumiya fend off Relicta, but as he delivered a heavy blow, Relicta threw her sabers and cloaked to avoid the attacks from the blunt-axe and lightwhip. As Lumiya attacked a random location, Relicta took a wound to the right arm, but she disarmed the heavy hitter and sliced off Ohlen's arm. As Ohlen desperately tried to defend against her blades, Lumiya had her whip forced from her and Relicta used it around Ohlen's neck, cracking it, and severing the head. Lumiya stood in shock as she saw Ohlen beheaded with her own weapon. Seeing an opportunity, Relicta made her an offer.
Relicta: You have considerable skill, warrior. Since your leader is dead, I offer you a choice; Join me and I will train you in the ways of the Force, or continue to battle against me and meet your swift end.
Lumiya had pondered for a few brief moments until she took her weapon with the Force and bowed to the Zabrak. Lady Relicta knew that she had made the right choice and they made their way back to Maul's forces.
As Maul fought back against Ezra and the Wookie known as Gungi, he had assessed his apprentice's performance.
Maul: Gererra?
Relicta: Dead, my master.
Maul: Good. He was too naive to lead my forces anyway. Onderonians! Your hero is dead, but there is still a chance for you to fight! Side with us, or die.
Lumiya then pleaded to them to surrender as she did. What started as an outcry casting her aside, turned into Lumiya giving into her darker feelings in the Force ordering Maul's forces to fire upon those that quickly turned against her. When Maul welcomed Lumiya into the fold, Lumiya had began feeling uncomfortable.
Back with the Jedi Temple on Yavin. Master Kestis had been training the rest of the order how to fight with a blaster in tandem with their sabers. Luke had been a slow learner of this technique, but was the fastest Master to learn it. The fastest padawan to learn this technique was Cal's own adopted daughter, Kata Akuna.
Back on Mandalore, Ezra met back with Sabine, Starkiller and Ahsoka met with Bo-Katan for establishing her rule, and the Alliance had established a base. With Bridger and Wren, they shared a loving embrace that made them feel more connected with one another than they had ever been.
Elsewhere in the galaxy, an Imperial fleet above Mustafar had detected a fleet of ships passing through hyperspace. With haste, Thrawn had ordered that the ships be extracted. As Maul felt the ships be pulled, he ordered all of his remaining fighters to prepare for boarding. Lumiya had accompanied her new master and the elder Sith to attack the Empire. As Maul and Relicta attempted to fight against Thrawn, the Chiss Admiral had found one of Vader's allies in Sergeant Kreel, formerly of Task Force 99 to deal with the invaders. When Lumiya was open to attack who they all thought was Thrawn, the supposed throne swiveled to reveal Darth Cain as he sent a powerful torrent of Force lightning her way. She couldn't defend against it with her whip and felt the torrent throw her from the bridge into the rear corridor. As Emperor Cain activated his blade to engage Lumiya, she had attempted a flurry of quick strikes, but Cain had deflected them all after a heavy slash, Cain held her in a choke.
Cain: Who is your master? Answer truthfully, and I may let you live.
He released the choke so she could answer.
Lumiya: My master will come for you when she decimates your commander!
Cain read her words carefully and ascertained that it was the younger Zabrak female.
Cain: Has she trained you in the Force yet?
Lumiya had been trying her hardest not to falter in her venomous demeanor but she had told him the truth about her training.
Lumiya: No, she hasn't.
Cain: Your discomfort will be put to an end, if you side with me. Your master was wise to keep you alive, but foolish enough to bring you to battle with no formal training. Your real opponents are the Jedi.
Lumiya: Yes. They had brought the Empire to Onderon in the beginning, betrayed the Republic of old, and I had to survive by doing unspeakable things.
Cain: The Jedi spelled doom for your planet, but I can teach you the way to power.
As the two conversed on a new agreement, Kreel was struggling against 4 crimson blades, but focused his energy on Maul, due to the two almost enjoying this fight.
Maul: Finally! An opponent of near equal skill! Only I do not sense the Force in you.
Kreel: I haven't had a fight like this in years. Good thing I never stopped training.
Maul: Terras Kasi. What fun!
As the two clashed with blades and limbs, Relicta had cornered the Chiss who was confident in his Emperor's persuasiveness to turn, but couldn't predict a whip wrapping around her left leg and Lumiya's betrayal.
Back on Mandalore, Ezra met back with Sabine and the two had yet another romantic embrace. They met with the older Jedi and Bo-Katan to converse about Bo-Katan's rule over the planet now that Maul and the Empire have been dealt with.
Bo-Katan: Thank you so much for everything, Ahsoka. Mandalore is now in your debt.
Ahsoka: It was a great privilege, Lady Kryze. Will you allow your daughter to join our new order?
Bo-Katan: Like you said, it's up to her. Satine, do you want to learn how to be a Jedi?
Satine had to think on the offer. Even at her age, the weight of her decision was placed on her shoulders. Did she want to stay and learn the Mandalorian ways with her mother, or go with Ahsoka to learn the ways of the Jedi, like her father before her.
Satine: Would I still be able to participate in our family's customs?
Bo-Katan: Yes, you may.
Satine: Then I choose to be a Jedi, like Father before me.
Ahsoka: Gather your things if you are confident in your decision, young one. We'll be leaving soon.
Satine had gathered all that she knew she would need and other items to keep her mind at ease. She followed Ahsoka and boarded her ship excited to visit another planet, although sad to leave her home behind.
As Sabine and Ezra arrived at her family fortress, Sabine greeted her father and brought Ezra forward. The Wren clan Patriarch had recognized the Jedi who had helped their family overthrow clan Saxon and after a very impactful discussion, Ahldred gave Ezra his blessing and a ceremony had begun its preparations. As Ezra and Sabine shared their vows, the minister had pronounced them man and wife and as the entire chapel applauded the new couple, Ezra and the rest of Clan Wren had another personal ceremony.
Aldred: Ezra Bridger, you have joined our family through the sanctity of matrimony. Your actions in defense of my family and in adoration for my daughter, I hereby welcome you into our family's ranks as a Mandalorian. Your armor is being cast as we speak. Follow me through the Forge.
As Ezra saw every piece of armor be folded, he had been led to a display where every piece was placed on display.
Aldred: Is there any type of insignia you wish to don on your armor?
Ezra: I remember Sabine having some sort of bird that Ahsoka had said she saw. It was very Owl-like. Am I allowed two?
Aldred: Yes, on this occasion.
Ezra: I would also like to have a Loth-Wolf. This was something that to me was a last message from my old master.
Aldred: Dedication to role models is very important, because they shape us into who we are.
Ezra: Thank you, Sir.
Aldred: It's alright, Ezra. You may call me Father.
The last word had hit Ezra hard and almost made him tear up. As the pieces were complete, the image of Morrai had been cast on his right shoulder pad, and the Loth-Wolf had been used along the helmet, chest and back armor, and the thigh armor. Ezra then found an Imperial Stormtrooper holster to add to his suit and the E-11 blaster was holstered as well as his a notch for his saber. Another smaller holster was placed on his opposite hip with a blaster of Mandalorian origin. As Ezra donned the armor, he walked out to the rest of the departing Alliance members with his helmet under his left arm. The group boarded the T-6 and Rogue Shadow and headed to coordinates that Ahsoka had received before the battle.
submitted by Rainbow6SiegeCreator to StarWarsWhatIf [link] [comments]

2023.05.18 05:02 davidmx45 Hometowns of each American 250 West rider who finished top 20 in points....This one was kind of tough with all the California guys...

Hometowns of each American 250 West rider who finished top 20 in points....This one was kind of tough with all the California guys... submitted by davidmx45 to supercross [link] [comments]