Sedating chow chow
- Jeanne S. Chow's research works Boston Children's ...
- Which antipsychotic do I choose next? MDedge Psychiatry
- Grooming & Sedation - ChowChow.org
- Sedating A Chow Chow - metabestorder.top
- Vet recommended giving Benadryl as a sedative for the dog ...
- How to Detect Pregnancy in Your Female Dog (with Pictures)
- How to Safely Sedate a Dog: 11 Steps (with Pictures) - wikiHow
- Sedating drugs and breastfeeding - PubMed
- Link: Eyelid Tumors - ChowChow.org
- Dog Anxiety in Car Rides: How to Relieve Dog Stress
Grooming & Sedation - ChowChow.org ... Quick links Jeanne S. Chow's 10 research works with 11 citations and 336 reads, including: Correction to: Prospective pediatric study comparing glomerular filtration rate estimates based on motion-robust ... How to Safely Sedate a Dog. Sedation is a relaxed, calm or tranquil state induced after the administration of drugs. When a dog is sedated, it becomes more docile and can easily be handled, making it less stressful for the dog when... Efficacy pathway. Patients who chose the efficacy pathway were randomly assigned to clozapine (50%) or olanzapine, risperidone, or quetiapine. 1 Researchers selected clozapine as the major efficacy comparator because of its robust effects in treatment-refractory schizophrenia. Clozapine was given open-label because of its safety monitoring requirements; other treatments were double-blind. Question: If a mother takes a sedating drug during breastfeeding, will it cause central nervous system (CNS) depression in her breastfed baby? Answer: In some cases (eg, with the use of codeine or oxycodone) sedating drugs will likely cause CNS depression in breastfed infants and in other cases (eg, with the use of benzodiazepines) they will likely not. I have a lab/chow mix. She's 55 pounds. She panics every time she goes to the vet, and also on the way to/from the vet in the car. She is just out of control at the vet. I see that other people's dogs aren't always nice and quiet, either. But some dogs just casually go in and get whatever without any issues or resisting. Other dogs...they sometimes do resist, but not seemingly as much as ours. When you love your dog, you want to take your pet with you wherever you go. Even if it means driving in the car. Although many dogs look forward to riding in the car, other dogs dread the ... Jeff&Peks Rank 4 Posts: 8386 Joined: Wed Mar 02, 2005 7:29 pm Location: Los Angeles,, CA Sedating a pregnant bitch is best avoided because of the risk of a drop in blood pressure to puppies in the womb. For these reasons, the use of radiography for pregnancy diagnosis has gone out of vogue. Advertisement. Community Q&A Search. Add New Question. Question. What can cause a 14 month old puppy who is not pregnant to have swollen ... Sedating A Chow Chow, is niall horan dating 2016, top interracial dating websites, dating an aquarius tips. Guierche, Sarthe, Pays de la Loire. Je suis tendre, travailleur, attentionnée, amoureux. J aime les voyages, les sorties et pour le reste contacter moi pour plus d infos PS: - s abstenir même
First Contact - Chapter 311
2020.09.19 04:48 Ralts_Bloodthorne First Contact - Chapter 311
] Planet Slatmurt - Neo-Sapient/Near Sapient Space Border Two Weeks after Case Omaha Three Months after Initial Red Dots in Hesstla System
The mess hall was full of chattering, the clattering of cutlery on dishes, the clink of glasses, and here and there laughter. It was a quikbuild structure, put up by ants almost as an afterthought, a place for beings to eat and relax a little while. Treana'ad made jokes and puffed at their cigarettes underneath air circulators/filters. Mantid talked about the last drop and how it was betteworse than this one. Rigellian females talked and sang as they ate, their conversation often about the beauty of an oiled brown feather. The Telkans stared around them at everyone talking and laughing.
They were three days into a hard drop.
Task Force Angry Duck, Sixteenth Army, V CORPS (MIXED), and 1st Telkan Marine Division, First Regiment had arrived barely in time to hold off the wave after wave of Precursor metal from overwhelming the planet. Rather than leave when the math said, they kept bringing in additional waves while the previous forces retreated. They were making heavier use of drop-troops, going for the ground pound to secure victory. Space was still contested, with Task Force Angry Duck joined by Task Force Black Hammer, the latter following the Precursor vessels when they ran for it.
Ground was still anyone's game.
The world was rich in iridium and lithium, gravity well spun crystals with atmospheric doping making the material a hard sought resource.
Which meant whoever wanted it had to take it.
The Precursor Autonomous War Machines were a mix of Type-I, Type-II, and Type-III Hybrids. A nasty mix with a whole passel of tricks up their metal sleeves.
The Telkan were on their first offworld combat deployment. They were doing well, up to the standards of Confederate Space Force, their casualties low. Most of all, they knew when to call in for close air, artillery, or infantry support when things started to get dicey.
A single Telkan came into the mess hall and the rest of the Telkan went quiet. The fur on his ears, around the tip of his muzzle, around his eyes, was all silver. He walked with a limp, one eye and one ear were black warsteel replacements. The Telkan went back to eating, quietly, as the new arrival went through the chow line and got a tray of food before moving over to sit with the handful of Terran Descent Human officers sitting at the table.
Colonel Iisak nodded to the Telkan officer, who nodded back and went to clearing his tray. The human noted that the Telkan's fur had the slick plastic look of someone who had just gone through the showers to wash away hours of suit-sweat. While the Telkan was eating the other officers made small talk, mostly about the condition of their units and how well the fight was going.
Finally the Telkan officer pushed back his tray and picked up a long stalk of greenish red plant to nibble on.
"How's it look out there, Lieutenant?" Colonel Iisak asked.
"Looks like we've got them on the run," The Telkan said. His voice was rough and coarse, like he'd been chewing gravel all day. "Third Armor's rolling on drop points the AWM's are using, pushing them back to the Graveyard. My Brigade is rotating back for some R&R."
The Colonel nodded. The Graveyard was where a dozen of the larger Precursors that were able to come into the atmosphere had landed and then had been disabled by General Trucker's heavy tanks and atomic strikes from 8th Infantry during the initial landing of V Corps. The dead AWM's were still spitting out smaller war machines, but now there was the opportunity to push them back into the Graveyard and then the Harvester Class AWM's could be handled.
"How's the weather?" General Hwrawkar asked, setting down her glass of juice. She was in charge of a Regiment of fast attack grav-strikers and, like most pilots, almost obsessed over the weather.
"Starting to cool off. Had some bad black rain yesterday, lots of heavy metal in it," the Telkan said. "Wasn't too bad on the way back."
The Rigellian nodded, closing her eyes and bringing up her command console with her implant and ordering the mechanics to double-check the radiation shielding on all the strikers.
"How's our hosts?" The sole one star General asked. He knew the answers his staff had given him, but it was always good to hear from another source.
Plus, the young Telkan male was a newly minted officer. Sure, he could fight, he could inspire his troops, but leadership was more than yelling battlecries and pulling the trigger.
"Still staying low," the Telkan said. "It's all too much for them still."
"Their females and young are fragile," Hwrawkar mused, opening her eyes. "Something I can empathize with."
The male Telkan nodded.
"How are your men?" General asked, keeping his voice mild.
"Morale was a little wobbly when those city sized Harvesters landed but it's firmed back up now," the Telkan said. "We've taken pretty low casualties, all things considered."
"How are the new suits?" Colonel Krikitaki, Ninth Maintenance Brigade, asked mildly.
"Still shaking out. The new psychic shielding makes everyone's teeth tingle," the Telkan said. He shook his head. "Funny that I fought most of the Telkan Wars with bare minimum shielding."
"Type-III's push psychic assaults harder than the other two," General Hwrawkar said. She tapped one black talon against the side of her glass. "I'm just glad that you are as resistant to psychic attacks as we are. It is rare."
The Telkan officer nodded. He finished off the stalk of vegetable and nodded to everyone. "Gentlemen. Ladies," he said, standing up. He gathered his tray and went to the wash rack, clearing his tray before putting it into the shelving where it would be taken back and washed.
He thought it was funny that in an age of nantites, mass reclaimation systems, and robotics, washing pots, pans, and dishes was still done by hand in the Terran military.
Soldiers saluted as he made his way through the firebase, hastily constructed over the last two days while the Lanaktallan military forces had been refit to be able to fight next to the Terrans without the danger of the Terran weapons damaging Lanaktallan vessels by the mere act of firing.
He was walking behind a pair of Terran infantrymen, both of whom were mostly biological, when he saw it.
The three green dots at the base of their skull, subdermal LEDs that were roughly an inch wide, a quarter inch thick, with rounded ends, all flashed. The bottom went turned red, then the middle one lit up amber, followed by the top one turning amber.
"Soldiers, stand fast," the Telkan snapped, hurrying up to them.
The two infantrymen stopped, looking down at the Telkan officer and going to attention.
"Yes, sir?" the one on the left asked.
"Right now, are you suffering headaches or any other strange symptoms," the Telkan asked.
Both of them looked at each other and then down.
"No, sir," they both said.
"I need you both to come with me to medical," the Telkan said.
"May we ask why, Lieutenant Vuxten?" the one on the right asked after checking the Telkan's rank and nametag.
"Your SUDS telltales just went off green," the Telkan said. "Come with me."
Both men put their hands on the back of their necks and nodded.
Vuxten hurried down the passageway, stopping three times more when he saw Terrans with the same thing on their SUDS telltales.
Some soldiers were still green, some were flashing green.
Vuxten activated his comlink, tuning into the command channel.
"Base, get me medical," Vuxten snapped.
The comlink rang twice before it was answered.
"Captain Davis-Klikatik, 27th Med," a woman answered.
"Lieutenant Vuxten, 1st Telkan, I've got nine Terran soldiers with blown out SUDS," he waved at three other humans, stopping them. He glanced at the back of their necks. "Twelve now. We're under attack."
"It's happening all over base. There's a general recall for all forces not engaged with the enemy to pull back," the medical officer said, her voice tight with stress.
"Should I bring them into Medical?" Vuxten asked.
"Negative. Tell them to return to their muster area," the doctor said. "MedCom out."
"Vuxten, out," he said. He turned to the gathered up soldiers. "MedCom wants you to return to your barracks or muster area unless you get instructions otherwise," he said.
They nodded and Vuxten noted that their eyes were glowing amber. He filed the information away. He'd seen it before, during the war. Human's eyes often had a faint glow to them, but this was different.
"Yes, sir," they said, the small knot of them dissolving as they hurried to their garrison areas.
Vuxten tapped his comlink again.
"General Nagwark-Tambunta, 1st Telkan," the human voice said.
"Sir, this is Lieutenant Vuxten," he answered, hurrying toward the garrison area.
"What do you need, Lieutenant?" the General asked.
"We're under attack. SUDS are going one red two amber across the entire base. Have all human members of First Telkan checked," Vuxten said, squeezing by a blast door that was shutting.
"Hang on," the General said.
Vuxten noticed that the normally laconic Terran Space Force (Marines) General sounded irritated by the entire world existing.
"You're right. Vuxten, I need you to gather up all Telkan officers and meet me in Briefing Room Seven," the General said. "Don't fuck around brushing your fur, you get straight there, Marine, understood?"
"Yes, sir," Vuxten said.
The comlink shut off. Another surprise. Usually the General was a stickler for procedure.
He hurried faster.
"General Papatonis wants 3rd Armor to break contact and fall back to Log Base Tembo," Trucker's radioman, Sergeant Soto, called out.
Trucker spit over the side, keeping the TC's gun on the target, ripping armor from the entire side of the Precursor machine. The quad-barrel found something inside of the machine and it's side blew out even as the top bulged and shed armor.
"Tell the General we're engaged with the enemy!" Trucker yelled out. "Fat Boy, hit that hill, three shots! There's a crawler behind it! BOLO Muttonchop, go to rapid fire on your hellbore at this angle! Second Regiment, Third Brigade, hot cycle your indirect fire forges, dump the slush!"
if they disengaged it would allow the flow of scrap metal flowing out of The Graveyard to overwhelm 1st Lanaktallan Armor Division through the sheer weight of numbers. It would allow the heavier machines, who had led their attack with an orbital strike into the carefully laid minefield, to break out and bypass Log Bases Tembo and Log Base Shi, which would let them flank BOLO Unit XXIX-TCSF 4721-FGY, AKA Fergy, with enough force they might be able to disable or even destroy the self-aware supertank.
His mental image of the battlefield shifted and he suddenly knew
that elements of 528th Infantry were about to be cut off by Precursors on the other side of the hills from him. The hills were heavy in iron and granite with a river in the middle that was steaming from the heat being dumped into it by the Balor just over the curvature of the planet.
"Little Boy! Pink Pearl! Steady Lad! Fire for effect, full Shake & Bake, on these coordinates!" Trucker shouted over his open comlink. "Give 'em six shots of Shake & Bake then hit 'em with a scoop of Rocky Road!"
The three tanks didn't even ask questions or doublecheck, their indirect fire crew member loading the fireplan Trucker had handed them nearly a minute ago and hitting execute.
"The General is insisting," the commo tech yelled.
"Tell the General that we regretfully inform him that we are ENGAGED WITH THE ENEMY!" Trucker yelled. "All Night Long, get in tight on Black Betty, they're about to lose their APERS strip! Cherry Fairy, hit that hulk again, there's some clanker crabs in it! Butthole Surfer, cycle your main gun, your compression chamber's whistling loud enough for me to hear it all the way over here."
Unnoticed by Trucker, or anyone else in 3rd Armor...
...the LED's flashed three times.
And went to a stack of red burning coldly beneath the skin.
A'armo'o watched Trucker's commands ripple through the hologram in front of him, how the battle shifted around him as if the Terran General knew what was going to happen. He watched as the General kept updating and filing fire plans that were executed sometimes up to two minutes later with devestating effect.
His Second Most High had fainted when Trucker had ordered one of the massive BOLO's riding his flanks to fire into the sky.
For a Balor to drop down out of the clouds and interference and straight into the firepower. The BOLO had gutted the Balor and it had crashed into The Graveyard.
The way Trucker orchestrated the battlefield and estimated enemy actions had proven too much for A'armo'o's second in command.
A'armo'o himself watched it with interest. His own men were engaged with the light units flowing from The Graveyard, trying to reach Log Base Hota.
"General Trucker has filed a fire and maneuver plan for your approval, Great Most High," the Terran Digital Sentience, a reconstruction of a famous and experience Terran armor commander by the name of Torgath informed him.
"The battle is moving too fast for me. What is your opinion?" A'armo'o asked.
"I question parts of it, as I have, but General Trucker appears to be a gifted commander. I would recommend following it," Torgath said, his voice stuffy.
"Then make it so," A'armo'o ordered.
There was silence for a second.
"Firing point defense systems, boss! Don't know..." T'Caw started to say.
The point defense guns opened fire just above the crest of a hill a mile away.
The Precursor striker vehicles popped over the hill just in time to run into a full barrage that tore them apart in a furious set of explosions.
"...why. Oh," T'Caw said. "Trucker?"
"General Trucker," A'armo'o chuckled as a set of Terran strikers roared by just overhead, their guns hammering and rockets firing from beneath their stubby wings. This
felt like a properly run war.
"How are you feeling?" the Terran female asked.
Mo'owa'alkr was proud at himself that he didn't flinch back from her. He had thought that the amber or red light from the eyes was just from their warborgs or cybernetics, but this Terran female had biological eyes and they glowed a warm amber.
"I am slightly dizzy," Mo'owa'alkr said.
"That's the sedative," she said. "Your surgery went well."
"Surgery?" Mo'owa'alkr asked. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his fighting position and laughing.
"When you came in, we saw you had suffered some microstrokes. Precursor Scream exposure," the Terran said. "We had to replace two of your eyes. We tried to save them, but the blood vessels had ruptured throughout the entire structure."
"Oh," Mo'owa'alkr said. That explained the two black sections in his vision. He lifted up a glass. "May I have some more juice?"
"Sure," The Terran smiled and Mo'owa'alkr was proud of himself for not flinching. She handed him the glass. "There's a psych tech coming to talk to you. We're worried about shell shock or combat fatigue."
Mo'owa'alkr nodded, feeling slightly ashamed.
"Hey, now," the Terran said. "You did good for what you were facing."
"Really?" Mo'owa'alkr said. He felt almost desperate for her approval.
"Absolutely. You were outnumbered, outgunned, and under heavy psychic assault," she said. She patted his upper right arm. "Almost three hundred of your fellow troops survived with you."
"Oh," Mo'owa'alkr said quietly as the nurse left.
His Herd had been nearly five thousand strong.
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
It's been almost two weeks.
How much longer do you think they'll be gone.
AKLTAK FREE FLIGHT
Not that long.
I'm sure they'll be back.
TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
I'm letting Terrans still in the Tnvaru Systems know that we are offering them shelter and refugee status.
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
AKLTAK FREE FLIGHT
I can't imagine doing anything else.
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
I can't believe that the Unified Council thought that striking Terra would stop them.
AKLTAK FREE FLIGHT
If anything, it'll drive them crazy.
TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne
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2020.09.16 18:43 The_Hateful_Kate Legendary Animals - Hunting Guide 🤠👍
I previously posted a version of this, and now that I have killed, skinned and sampled all of the Legendary Animals currently in RDO, I thought I would post a final updated version. Animal Pheromones
– Many people, myself included, were confused by these. They will NOT make an animal spawn. They will only help to pin point their location ONCE you see the yellow question mark nearby. So, whilst I am not sure it is worth buying the pamphlet to create this yourself for $900, as it will take a lot of samples, it still does seem worth holding some stock from Harriet to make it easier if that question mark is a little bit away from you. I have very rarely used to Blending Tonic, so from my experience, this does not overly impact on how the spawn or react to you. As other have said, there also seems to be no use in any of the baits. They just seem to randomly spawn or they don’t. 72 Hour Cool down
– A lot of people have said that there is a species based cool down. So if you kill, say, a Tecca alligator you will have to wait 3 days IRL to hunt it, or the Sun Alligator again. From my experience, in a mix of private solo lobbies and the recent empty lobby, this does hold out. Days and hours wasted hunting and finding nothing, backs this up. I previously said that this doesn’t seem to be true of the LAs from Harriet, as I have killed both the Wolf and Alligator and saw others from those species in Free Roam the same or very next day, but I would be careful, and plan accordingly. I now only do a mission for Harriet if I have encountered the animal in Free Roam on that day, to avoid any restriction on my future hunting. Friends, Full Lobbies and Radoms
– Some have also said that there is an additional 24-48 Minute same session cool down, but that this might be reset once you switch lobbies. I did more testing on this, and generally didn’t find another animal within one game day, but some within 2 days. It can also be the case that the 72 hour cool down will be ignored if you are with friends who have not yet seen the animal. Lots of people have reported seeing the same animals or at least the same species more than once a day. So if you’ve hit that 72 wall, it can’t do any harm to invite or join a friend and test this out. The 72 hour cool down seems very controversial, but is backed up by many, many reports, and having got all of the animals now, I am 100% convinced. You may say that you found the same animal in the same session, and even you were in a private lobby, but this doesn’t chime with other people’s experiences. Many people also reported that this was found in the code, but have been unable to confirm. There will always be exceptions to any rule, or bugs, but literally days of hunting on my weeks off proves that it is real. I feel it is counterproductive to tell people to waste their time searching continuously and adding to their frustration, even if it isn't 100% agreed by all. Plan your daily hunting targets
– As you will blocked from hunting species for 72 hours, I suggest making a note of the real life time you encounter the last animal of that kind. I now keep a list of which animals will be visible to me on any given day, based on the cool down of my last sighting. So if you hunt an alligator on Sunday, don’t bother wasting your time looking again until Wednesday. This will also mean avoiding certain areas on the days it becomes available again, to avoid accidently spawning in the other type of animal that you are looking for. So if you are hunting the Cogi Boar in Lemoyne, also avoid going near Thieves Landing to stop the Wapka from spanning in. I know this can be the trickiest part, but will be worth it once you get the skin and a sample. My tracker sheet will be below. Weather & Time
- Most user guides or videos seem to reference a certain time or weather condition required to find an LA. Or even both. In my experience, LA can spawn at ANY TIME of the day, and also in different weather condition than expected. Sun gator at 11am in the sun, Snow Buck at 11pm in the mist etc. I once even got the Moon Beaver at 10pm in mist, just after rain for example, rather than early morning or evening in actual rain. To me, this is more dictated by the last time you saw an LA and if you are due a new encounter, rather than hitting those tiny windows of matching time and weather. Not that it can’t help looking when the conditions are perfect, but if you miss the time window or weather window, don’t feel like you shouldn’t go looking just in case. I have found many more LAs in the last few weeks completely out of their cycle. HideOuts & Moonshine activity
- A lot of times there is an event that is situated near an LA spawn. My experience is to either finish it and come back, or to simply move away and fast travel back. But as others have reported, if there is a red circle on the map in the same area as an LA, it won’t spawn in. (Maybe if someone is smarter than me, they can find out the Hideout spawn cycle or times and highlight the windows that they won’t be there, but worry it will then just turn into a Moonshine event instead?) Staying in one area
– Out of the non Harriet mission animals I have skinned so far (and now skinned them all!) only on two occasions have I not been riding nearby. So I wouldn’t recommend going round in circles constantly to try and get it to spawn in. Go to the location it spawns into, and then if you don’t see it on one pass, leave the area and come back. I would recommend totally leaving the area by a local Fast Travel post, rather than riding away as that might spawn in random nearby events. Trader Delivery
– It seems that whilst carrying out a Long Distance Delivery will increase the chances of seeing LAs in Free Roam. This could be because it seems to supress the spawning of other random event. I can confirm this, having found 6 LAs from doing mine or a friends delivery. In fact, I even almost ruined a full $625 delivery when the Sun Gator spawned near me! I have even seen this occur when I have been doing Resupply missions, twice so far. I cannot confirm if the same is true with random escort missions, but you do often see another random event spawn nearby when taking someone home. There are also reports of seeing Legendary Animals during Bounty Hunter missions, so watch that radar! Health tonics, Cores & Ammo
– It’s always worth having some high level tonics close at hand when you first approach the LA. Some are super aggressive, and are also protected by fellow creatures. My advice is to instantly knock back a Level II or III health cure if you have one, and chow down on that seasoned big game if you don’t have camp stew. I would also recommend using something like a Repeating Shotgun or Bolt Action rifle, without the scope and High Velocity or Express ammo. I sometimes use the Elephant Rifle, but find I have to get too close and can risk being trampled or attacked. But I do like to keep a Repeating Shotgun at hand, just for close encounters! With good aim, you can drop most LAs with 4 or 5 slugs. So if you see a pack of animals, make sure to take them down quickly first, or they will probably help the LA to escape.. DO NOT use explosive ammo or fire, as this will ruin the animal. A good example is the Tecca or Sun Alligator. If you skin the LA and one of its foot soldiers kills you, you risk losing the pelt completely! The Bison too are nasty, as when they charge, it spooks your horse and it is then very hard to get back on before it escapes. Photographing LAs
– I often found it tricky to get the photograph of some LAs, especially Harriet missions if the animal is in a cage already. So, what I now do is sedate the animal, but DON’T sample it just yet, as this will end the mission. What I now do, is sedate it and drag it somewhere in the open. You can then get out your camera and point it at the beast. In a minute or so it will wake up, and you will have plenty of time to take a photograph. Once you get the update to your Animal Guide flash up, you can just sedate the animal again and sample him. Surprisingly, getting the photograph was always the most frustrating one to do, but with this method, life is much easier! Animal howls and cries
– Normally you will notice that the Legendary Animals howl or cry will be very noticeable and will sound similar but distinctly louder than the normal animal cry. This was something I totally missed but only noted recently. So if you know you are due a spawn, and see nothing on the radar, but hear a howl, keep looking in this area. Someone recently posted that one escaped but they could still hear their howl, so followed it and found tracks leading back to it. Using the Map
– The super helpful gamernick1 recently posted some excellent LA tips and mentioned using the map. I tried this yesterday and it was a very good method and saves you having to keep your eyes on the bottom left of the screen. Just define a route, put it into cinematic mode, and then bring up the map. I will do more testing with this, but strangely enough, shortly after trying this method, I got a yellow question mark within a minute! I had just delivered Moonshine to this area, so that probably supressed the hideouts but it was 11:30pm and misty, yet still the Snow Buck spawned in!! (He got away though as I thought I could walk over and take his pic) Lost or Escaped LA
– To date, I have lost 9 Legendary Animals. And so far, I have never found a lost or escaped LA in the same area, later in that time window, or within the same game day or session. The message advises that you should try a different area or another time, but having gone round in circles, or travelling back to area over and over, it has never re-appeared. This goes to convince me that the 72 hour real life cool down is correct. So if one of these critters gets away, take a deep breath… and move on to the next one! I know it’s hard, but think you’ll be even more frustrated wasting another 3 hours of your life looking for something that is unlikely to come back. I would now add, that others have confirmed that they have found the animal in the same area after receiving this message. I have followed LAs after sampling them and they run for miles, so this is a possibility I am willing to accept, but just don’t spend too much time looking. Bugs & Wrong Spawns
– Not often, but occasionally, people report strange issues with their LAs. Some people report they see the ? but no animal. Almost like it is stuck under the map. If you encounter this, it is probably best to switch lobbies. I have had two instances where I see a question mark for an animal I don’t want, so have switch lobby only to see the same ? in the same area on respawn. I then switch lobby two more times, and then the Sun Gator spawned in. I believe that, as I didn’t interact with it, it didn’t affect the spawn. I can confirm this, as I saw the Boar the very next day. I have also now seen two animals in the wrong spawn area. The Wakpa Boar where the Coggi should be and also the Sun Gator at the Tecca spawn point. As the point on Friends and Randoms, there is always exceptions to the rule, and as these aren’t game breaking, it is only frustrating if you desired the other animal. Cripps or Gus
– It would seem that some animals or pelts are worth a considerable amount of material for your Trader business. Anything from 18.75 materials for the Red Streak Coyote to a massive 58.75 for the Payta Bison Pelt! Strangely enough, the pelts from Harriets missions seem to give the most materials. So, these can be a super fast way to build up your trade goods for Cripps. Personally I would still sell at least one skin of each animal to Gus for the Garment Sets, or any future content, take you samples to get the 100% and then start farming them materials! The money made by simply selling these duplicates to Gus doesn’t come close to the time saved from hunting regular animals to fil up your goods, so bear this in mind So that’s all from me cow pokes, think this will be my final version, so I want to wish you lots of successful hunting, and feel to ask any questions or point out anything you disagree with
Oh and here is my tracker to make it a little easier to keep an eye on your progress https://www.reddit.com/RedDeadOnline/comments/itz7l2/legendary_animal_tracker_updated/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
submitted by The_Hateful_Kate
to RedDeadOnline [link] [comments]
2020.08.18 18:11 Acrobatic-Atmosphere Paragard experience (1 month, positive)
I had my paragard inserted about 4 weeks ago, and I wanted to share my experience.
Insertion: Because of 3 failed typical insertion attempts, I had it placed under conscious sedation in the OR. I was very scared, but literally as soon as the drugs started I was out like a light. It was "conscious sedation", but according to my OBGYN I was asleep the whole time, and I definitely have no memory of it. I woke up feeling a little loopy but generally relaxed, and was given a tylenol 3 (It has codeine in it) before being driven home, and I felt GREAT.
Recovery: I alternated 650mg of tylenol and 800 mg of ibuprofen for the next few days, and had a very comfortable recovery. I didn't bleed for the first 2 days, then I bled medium heavy for 2 more days. I did not need extra heavy overnight pads, but regular daytime ones. I used a microwave pillow as needed, but in general I was not in significant pain.
last 3 weeks: The last 3 weeks have been great! I dont feel it at all, I've been back to exercising, and I have not had more bleeding. I went back to my OBGYN to check on it (standard procedure) and she looked at it with an ultrasound rather than a speculum, which I really appreciated. Everything is in place. Additionally, i immediately dropped some bloat pounds, and my anxiety has really improved. This has been much easier and less bloody than anticipated, and it was definitely a good choice for me!
People tried to steer me away from paragard because they said it can cause so much bleeding and cramping, but this goes to chow that there is a lot of diverity. Hormones were really hard on my body, so I was confident in this choice. Additionally, if your insurance will cover having it placed under some sort of sedation, do it. It's so much easier.
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to birthcontrol [link] [comments]
2020.08.02 02:08 onsmakelijk Roommate's new dog is suddenly possessive and starting fights with my dog, and now I think my dog is getting scared of her. What can we do to encourage them to at least tolerate each other?
My dog (Tempo) is a neutered 3 year old staffordshire bull terrielab mix. I've had him for a couple years now. My roommate just adopted a dog (Penny) who I think might be a golden retrievechow/shar pei and is 2 years old and not spayed. She had two meetings with Penny before she adopted her.
I took Tempo to have a meetup with Penny and things we fine so my roommate decided to take her. We just moved into this apartment and my roommate brought Penny home yesterday.
Things were fine at first but Penny started snapping at Tempo for seemingly no important reason. He did instigate once and tried to mount her, but he since learned his lesson. Ever since then she's been going for him and he's more or less become the victim. They got into an actual fight last night when Tempo walked too close when Penny was sitting with my roommate and and they just now go into another fight without warning. Tempo was standing near Penny (who was sitting with my roommate) when she suddenly snapped at him and they went at it.
She bit his ear (not enough to draw blood) and now I think Tempo's starting to become afraid of her. Before he would just ignore her but now he's getting defensive and barking at her ever since she bit him. Another issue is that he will fight back when she instigates, so the situation will escalate.
My roommate is technically fostering Penny and while she can return her, she doesn't want to. I don't really want her to return her either, because one, I'd feel bad for Penny, and two, I feel like she deserves to have a dog. However, obviously if they keep at it then someone's gotta go.
My roommate read somewhere that it can take up to a month for dogs to get used to each other, but I don't want this fighting going on for that long. Obviously both dogs need to settle into the apartment and being in a new environment so we're gonna give it a week and see how things go. I'd prefer to get them some actual professional training to learn to be together, but we're both college students and might not be able to afford it at this moment.
Is there anything we can do to encourage them to get along while in the apartment? Each dog is playful and sweet on their own and ideally we'd want them to get to the point where they'd be able to play and interact with each other without resorting to violence. Even just ignoring each other would be fine, as long as they could be around us and each other without reacting.
I have sedatives (acepromazine) from the vet and I don't want to drug one or both of them out of desperation. I have some strong CBD oil (600mg) but it has no affect on Tempo (he's already on Prozac anyway) and not sure if it will do anything to Penny.
submitted by onsmakelijk
to Dogtraining [link] [comments]
2020.07.12 20:31 quantumqueijadinha Dry Food Suggestions for Extremely Picky Cats
Hi! Sorry to bother everyone, and I really hope this is in the right place, but I really need some advice about cat food brands that cats find tasty (specifically dry food - wet food is a whole other kettle of fish...)
My kitty, Blizzard (10 years old, male, 10 lbs) is the absolute PICKIEST eater I've ever had. I've had to switch his food every few months just to prevent him from getting bored with it & stealing butter out of my fridge (I swear he picks the fridge lock - that cat is way too smart...). He's been through about 4 brands of cat food - Purina Indoor Cat Chow being the most recent, but he's gone through Friskies Indoor Delights, Blue Buffalo Indoor Dry (when I was living in the US) & Hill's Science Diet Indoor as well. He definitely has an appetite & he eats everything he ISN'T supposed to eat very happily - he just keeps getting tired of foods. He isn't losing weight, his stool seems normal, and this is not new behaviour (I adopted him 2 years ago & it's been happening ever since).
His only diagnosed medical conditions are hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (very advanced, unfortunately) & a very large number of ear polyps (which the vet is reluctant to remove due to the heart condition - she doesn't want to sedate him unless it's a life-or-death situation). He hasn't lost weight & his vet has said this is likely just a behavioural thing rather than an illness (he was a stray for a long time & suffered severe abuse/neglect from several previous owners, so he definitely has some unique behavioural quirks) - but I'm really wanting to get him cat food he will actually eat. I've had a few incidents switching food where he won't touch the new stuff at all - and since he won't eat his old food, I can't do the usual thing of combining the two to try to get him to accept the new more readily. Wet food is even worse than dry - I have maybe 3 weeks before I have to switch those around, even if I'm using several varieties. I'm in Canada, as well, if that helps.
If anyone had any suggestions of cat food brands or things I could do to prevent him from getting tired of foods in the future, I would really appreciate it. Thanks so much, and sorry again for bugging everybody
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to AskVet [link] [comments]
2020.06.17 23:03 hlas391 Lost my best friend
Yesterday I took my dog, Mr. Chow to the vet and he had to be sedated for his anxiety. After picking him up and taking him home there was some complications and his stomach ended up twisting and he passed away on the way to the emergency vet. I legit am so lost, my mom passed away two years ago and I feel like I just keeping losing the people closest to me. I want to think of the positives like, we were in quarantine and got to spend the last three months consistently together, he was almost 10 when he passed so I’m happy he didn’t have to suffer through the pains of old age. Since things have opened up, I took him for ice cream almost every day and new walks and trails as often as I could. But despite it all I want to say it was his time and he work here was done but it sucks so much.
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to Petloss [link] [comments]
2020.06.13 02:41 NozakiMufasa Fixing the DCEU Part 3: Suicide Squad
This is Part 3 of my "Fixing the DCEU" Series. Parts 1 and 2 can be read here
. Suicide Squad
could have been a good film, a decent film. It had a phenomenal cast of colorful and unique characters and a cool premise in its original source material. But man did they fuck it up with odd editing choices, misuse of tone / undecided on what tone to be, no arcs for its many characters, having a plot that makes no sense or proper act structure, basically... this film was an epic failure.
But there was good within it. Had it been made at the proper time and executed properly we'd have had a solid dark action film. And that's what Suicide Squad failed to be when it tried to be DC's discount Guardians of the Galaxy
by taking only surface level lessons from that picture.
In my "Fixing the DCEU" Series, we've rectified things a bit by establishing the DC Film Universe' primary superheroes first. They follow as Man of Steel (2013), Superman: Man of Tomorrow (2015), Wonder Woman (2016), Aquaman (2016),
and The Flash (2017).
Our Suicide Squad
film would release right after The Flash
in 2017. With the benefit of these prior films building the world we were able to introduce several characters from Suicide Squad
early such as Viola Davis as Amanda Waller, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Black Manta, and Jai Courtney as Captain Boomerang. ARGUS also featured in these prior films as a mysterious antagonistic agency in these films.
Another major change to this version is that our Suicide Squad
is Rated R. Somewhat following in Deadpool
's footsteps, this is to allow this somewhat darker corner of the Universe to have the violence and action that fits these villains. Also to allow for them to speak like they would - Harley saying "I'm Harley FUCKING Quinn" and the like.
Much of the cast is the same as it was in the original film. Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Jay Hernandez, Joel Kinnamen, Jai Courtney, Karen Fukuhara, Adwale, Agbaje-Akkinoyue, etc. But there is the addition of Abdul-Mateen II as Black Manta as well as a different actor portraying Batman. The Enchantress is no where in this Rewrite.
Now... onto the Rewrite:
We begin with Amanda Waller shown sitting in an airplane flying over the fictional Latin American country of Val Verde. The country is controlled by an anti-American President (played by Benecio del Toro) who is actually rather benevolent. Our first scene of this guy is actually him ordering his officers to pay the working class more for building the President's palace. "If I refuse to pay my people, they will no longer love me and worse than that, I will have lost all honor". Clearly a revolution happened in this country and this guy genuinely believes in freedom and justice. He's not unloved in this nation nor a dictator at all.
Then we cut to around the Presidential Palace. Several people land in the jungle around the palace and we see Val Verde soldiers being taken out by them. One uses bullets, another hacks and slashes with a Japanese sword, another drags a man down into the water, another is speared by a harpoon, and another gets their neck broken. This last person is actually El Diablo and we hear over their radio Deadshot say "Really bro?".
Diablo at this point still has his vow to not use his superpowers. But he will still cooperate with this team and uses more physical skill and stealth on opponents instead of killing. However the Squad looks down on Diablo and thinks that he eventually will have to kill like the rest of them.
Then we see things go wrong as Captain Boomerang gets spotted out in the open. Boomerang loudly kills several soldiers which alerts the entire palace. The rest of the group - Katana, Killer Croc, Black Manta, and Deadshot - then begin killing soldiers left and right causing more chaos while El Diablo sneaks through the chaos to get to the President. Also descending from Waller's plane is the leader of this group, US Army Colonel Rick Flagg, who crashes in through the President's office as Diablo gets there and kills his guards and several Government officials.
Diablo speaks in Spanish to the President and asks him to simply surrender in order for no more people to get killed. The President recognizes Diablo's tattoos and asks if he should believe an obvious gangster. This somewhat hurts Diablo who doesn't argue his point. A frustrated Flagg then swears as he grabs the President and shoots his foot so he won't get away.
Meanwhile in the yard of the palace we see in full the Suicide Squad take on and defeat much of the guards / army. In a Metal Gear Solid
esque moment, Deadshot and Captain Boomerang double team and take out a heavily fortified attack chopper with just one bullet and a boomerang. The team leaves and returns to Waller's plane giving the Val Verde President to her. She tells him that not working with the United States now has resulted in America taking his country from him by force. The President curses Waller and Waller tazes him. Title Card: SUICIDE SQUAD
We then see Gotham City and get narration from a long awaited character: Harley Quinn,
still played by Margot Robbie.
Harley reiterates her meeting of The Joker
, how she fell in love with him as his psychologist, and how she became Harley Quinn. Their relationship is obviously toxic and in Harley's narration we can tell she is trying to make things seem nicer than they actually are and omit the abuse she recieved but it's still noticeable. (Side Note: Jared Leto.... is seriously toned down here. I'm tired of auteur takes on Joker. This is a comic book villain for pete's sake).
The Joker and Harley go on a crime spree that mainly is just for show and for Joker to prove that he's the boss of Gotham. This spree is shown in a montage and includes robbing a Gotham Bank not of its money but one bank tellers wallet and stealing the Gotham Zoo's white Grizzly bear. As they drive off after running over Gotham PD cars, they are chased by The Dark Knight of Gotham: Batman.
The chase is much like the original film in which Batman is mostly silent and we mainly see Harley and Joker's perspective as they drive and try to ward him off. Harley fires a bazooka at the Batmobile and accidently blows up a restaurant. Harley briefly looks concerned and says "I hope nobody was in there" which makes Joker say "Doesn't matter if they're dead now!". But then the chase ends as Batman fires his own rockets blowing up the back half of Joker's ride and sending him and Harley into Gotham Bay. Batman dives into the water to only find Harley Quinn who he subdues and takes into the Batmobile.
Batman drives Harley across the city and he talks to her one to one like a human being, mentioning how he knows Harley is smart and should know The Joker is bad for her. Despite being her enemy, Batman believes in the good in Harley even though she starts insulting Batman and talks about how she can tell he has emotional issues dressing up like a bat. Batman then arrives at an airfield where we once again see Amanda Waller who is waiting for him. Batman hands Harley over and in turn Waller gives Batman a suitcase of information, saying "So you have time to prep". Batman leaves and this is the last we see of him for now.
Harley is transported from Gotham (roughly on the East Coast) down to Belle Reve Prison in Louisiana. Sedated and later waking up Harley finds herself in solitary confinement and goes on a rant how it's a form of torture and how much it actually harms the mental state of prisoners (mixed in with colorful language like "F***ing Batman, f***ing Devil lady" and the like. But then the guards arrive led by Rick Flagg. Flagg introduces himself and says "Welcome to supervillain jail". This leads to a fight in which Harley demonstrates her athletic skills and knocks out almost all the guards but is sedated by Flagg who proceeds to drag her to the cafeteria.
Harley wakes up seated at a table where Deadshot, Katana, Black Manta, Killer Croc, Captain Boomerang, and El Diablo are eating. However unlike Harley who gets a tray of slop, the other villains get fine cuisine. Deadshot and Black Manta are eating fine lobster and steak with wine, Katana eats a traditional Japanese meal, Killer Croc is eating raw meat (with Flagg saying "Hannibal's got nothing on big boy here"), Boomerang drinking several cans of Fosters while eating Tim Tams, and El Diablo eating a salad. Harley is rightly confused and angry and shouting "How can a girl eat like this?" and Flagg says "Ain't you know lady? Dog's gotta earn their chow first".
Deadshot being the most sociable speaks up. "We did good, followed Boss Lady's orders, we get rewarded." Harley says "Boss lady - oh you mean that bitch!" then the slam of a door. Everyone turns to see Amanda Waller walk in. All the supervillains get tense as Waller walks in and approaches the table. Like if she does this every day, Waller sits next to the group and brings up how well they did on their last mission and that Val Verde now has a new government that's pro-American. Only Diablo is unafraid but clearly Waller has power over these supervillains.
Harley is then spoken to directly and Waller explains the purpose of Task Force X - or as the group likes to say "The Suicide Squad". Alongside superhuman threats, the Squad is a black ops unit that handles wet work and really dirty missions that are considered controversial such as assassinating other countries' leaders and officials or acts of terrorism for American interests. Waller also reveals Harley was implanted with an explosive that Waller can detonate at any moment (explaining why the Squad is so subservient). Harley brings up that while that is all neat, she isn't a metahuman nor does it make sense for her to be there. Waller argues this showing footage of her extreme athleticism and bringing up incidents of murder. She's right where she belongs.
Despite the situation Harley tries several times to escape with more crazier plans than the last. One in which she digs under the prison only to end up in Killer Croc's cell (and running like hell). Another instance going Metal Gear Solid sneaking by guards before getting tazed by Flagg. then lastly she tries sneaking in a van only to be driven back in.
Later on Harley gets to be outside in a gym yard but is guarded by almost all the prison. The other prisoners do their own thing with Diablo practicing yoga and Deadshot, Black Manta, and Killer Croc playing basketball. Harley however gets drawn to Katana who is meditating and keeps bugging her while mentioning psychology theories and overly complementing her which leads Katana to leap out and get Harley in a neck hold. Harley taps out and Katana lets her go.
Immediately after this, Flagg gathers the Squad for a new mission and the whole group (including Harley) are deployed into China to rescue a CIA agent. Harley isn't sure what she should be doing and at first sticks by Diablo but when he says he won't kill anyone, Harley runs off with Boomerang who mostly acts pretty crazy killing soldiers left and right. This leads to a major action scene as Harley kills Chinese soldiers with her acrobatics and manages to get a good amount of kills impressing the rest of the Squad.
The Agent - played by Scott Eastwood - is recovered and brought by the Squad out of China before Waller on her plane. He delivers the information the Chinese were after and once he does so, Waller shoots his head and drops him off of her plane. The whole Squad is unfazed by this except for Harley who shouts "What the FUCK
!?". Now, Harley has definitely killed people, she's a criminal after all. But this cold bloodedness is enough to even freak her
At base, Harley is rewarded with a Cappuccino machine for her cooperation. She says she still doesn't trust Waller but immediately makes a crap load of Cappuccinos and kind of goes on a high of caffeine. Harley runs around her cell with so much energy and we briefly see her perspective looking psychedelic and at point Harley is like "I don't miss cocaine!" while hanging from the top of her cell by her bed sheets.
After this we get a short montage of more missions with the Squad around the world where Harley continues to use more unorthodox methods. She tag teams with nearly every member in battle like being thrown by Killer Croc to hit enemies with her bat, athletically taking out soldiers with Katana, helping El Diablo take out enemies with stealth, etc.
Moments back at Belle Reeve are also shown where Harley gets along with the Squad on their down time like her, Killer Croc, and Boomerang crying over The Bachelorette
, Harley helping Black Manta spray paint his gear (but to his annoyance his Helmet is neon pink), and even other Squad members bonding with each other. El Diablo and Katana grow a mutual respect for one another as shown working out together in the yard. They even compliment each other in their respective languages. Flagg has also begun to lighten up and when the Squad returns from a successful mission he gives them beers leading to the whole Squad to be hammered on a plane ride back home.
The only one of the who is distant still is Deadshot, who is more focused on missions and kills. Harley later sneaks into his cell by tricking the guards and tries to get him to open up with her and points out a lot of the issues he displays from his behavior (again, Harley was a psychologist with a doctorate). Deadshot admits that he's a man who is always angry because no matter how much he tried to do the right thing, the world beat him down.
We see his backstory somewhat and learn he was a Special Forces Sniper for the US Military. But his unit had begun committing war crimes wherever they went and would always dodge punishment when Deadshot tried to report on them. Eventually his unit betrays him while in Afghanistan rescuing civillians. Deadshot however killed his unit before they could and cut ties with the military.s
His skills brought him around the world working for anyone - criminal groups, revolutionaries, etc. before he tried to settle down with his wife and daughter back in Gotham. But he was valued and continued to lend his skills for top dollar (and its shown even Amanda Waller would hire Deadshot as a client) before he was finally taken down by Batman (in front of his daughter on Christmas Eve). Harley wanted to get him to lighten up, to say that the world is fucked up so that's why you've got to embrace fun. But even her act is broken when she admits the world screwed them both over. But Harley says "Maybe there ain't a place for bad guys in their perfect world. But at least we got each other".
Now we get post mid point as the Suicide Squad is sent on another mission. This time a remote Russian Nuclear Base in the North Pacific. The objective being to wipe out the Russians here in order for American forces to blockade it. Things proceed as they usually do with the Squad cleaning house and working a lot better as a cohesive unit (which Flagg notes is due to Harley Quinn, even surprising Waller). But as things seem routine, the base is invade by an outside group that all wear animal and clown masks.
These soldiers blast laughing gas at the Russians causing them to laugh themselves to death. Harley realizes that these men are working for Joker. At the same time The Joker reveals himself as one of the soldiers and blasts Captain Boomerang with laughing gas when he tries to ambush him. Boomerang laughs so uncontrollably that he falls over a railing and to his death. Killer Croc, Katana, and Deadshot are nearly affected by it but are saved by Manta who injects them with a counter toxin while El Diablo finally unleashes his fire powers and kills many of Joker's men in retaliation for Boomerang's death.
However this is the chaos Joker needed in order to secure a nuclear warhead and proceeds to escape with the rest of his surviving soldiers. Harley Quinn pursues him and the two briefly talk - separated by water as Joker is on the sub and Harley on the base - with Joker noting that he knew she was in Belle Reve and saying "I was waiting for the right opportunity". Harley has grown independent but wants to join him and nearly runs off with him. Seeing this, Flagg almost detonates Harley's bomb but is tazed by Deadshot. Deadshot then stops Harley himself by shooting her with a nerve dart. She falls just as Joker gets away in the sea.
The Squad return and are verbally chewed out by Waller who is furious that the Joker out planned her. She also punches Deadshot and orders Flagg and group of other soldiers to all beat down Deadshot (as punishment for standing up for Harley). Despite being quite bloody, Deadshot stands up and flashes a smile to mock Waller. A guilty Harley later apologizes to Rick Flagg and asks him to send Deadshot a message. Despite what happened earlier, Flagg agrees and gives Harley's note to Deadshot. It's a crude cartoon drawing of him choking out Waller which makes him laugh.
We then see more of The Joker and its now we see from his POV all he's been up to since Harley was abducted. Mainly it's more sprees of terror and crime in which we also see his battles with Batman. But some of these incidents were the missions the Suicide Squad was on prior revealing Joker to have masterminded them. Joker has amassed a large following of fanatics, anarchists, criminals, and psychopaths who wish to spread more chaos. Basically take Joker fans in real life who drank the koolaide and you get Joker's army here.
At the same time, agents of Gotham PD, the FBI, and ARGUS manage to track down just where Joker is while Harley also deduces his most likely base of operations. She confronts Amanda Waller and Rick Flagg to tell them "Isn't it obvious? He's cooped up where freaks like us used to call home: Arkham." Arkham Asylum - located on an island in the Gotham Bay - is abandoned now due to the amount of super criminals that it failed to cure. Regular law enforcement try to enter but nearly all are taken out by Joker's forces.
Waller then enacts her grand plan: the Suicide Squad. Also this is where we learn the true purpose of Harley being in the Squad which was to capture or kill the Joker. The Squad is to drop down via HALO jump but while on the plane, Deadshot gives a rousing speech about how the world will always look down on them as freaks and outcasts and even call them villains but that they all know who they really are. (Harley has a look of guilt after Deadshot's speech since she was still a criminal and isn't sure what else she can be).
The Squad drops down only to be separated from each other. Each group does battle and indiscriminately kills Joker's men and succeed greatly. Deadshot with Black Manta, Harley with El Diablo, and Katana with Killer Croc explore and investigate Arkham. Flagg makes it to The Joker first and is spotted leading to a big fire fight in which he kills plenty of Joker's goons and nearly makes it to shooting down Joker when he is ambushed by a large hulking form: Bane. Joker has assembled some supervillains in order to evenly face the Squad and Bane brutally breaks Flagg's back and kills him.
The others make their way through Arkham but also encounter other super villains leading to smaller battles. Killer Croc and Katana fight King Shark, Deadshot and Black Manta face off against Deathstroke, and Harley and El Diablo battle Bane. But some of these fighters switch as Killer Croc is nearly overpowered by King Shark, Black Manta comes to his rescue and harpoons King Shark. Deadshot and Deathstroke have a deadly gun fight in which Deadshot's trigger finger is shot off. But then Deathstroke is burned alive by El Diablo who sneaks up on him. Deadshot jokes that Diablo couldn't have done that a second sooner.
Bane is the one skilled fighter who is able to really get away but Harley and Katana team up against him and Katana spears him through the head and takes his soul. It's a brutal move and Harley can't help but shout "Fatality!". Then Harley catches up with The Joker at last and his plan for the nuke is revealed: he's gonna turn Gotham into a wasteland. Why? He's bored.
Harley however tries to convince him to just give it up and try to save her from Waller so they can be together. But Joker sees through Harley and says "you've gone soft" before proceeding to physically beat her.
Harley flashes back to her previous happy memories with the Joker and with each punch her memories change to the reality. Joker is a monster and used her until he had no interest in her. He admits that he was going to save Harley later on but he sees now that she's gone off and "betrayed" him by befriending the Suicide Squad. That she doesn't depend on him anymore is what sets him off.
Then we see Deadshot tackle Joker and the two get into a fist fight. The last of Joker's goons battle the Squad in a fire fight which also sees El Diablo unleash his full fire powers. While this goes on, Black Manta gets to the nuke and realizes it's gonna blow very soon
Amidst all the gunfire and fighting, El Diablo decides enough is enough and assumes his true form of the giant Aztec fire demon and carefully takes the nuke and flies off out of Arkham and Gotham city. Joker shouts out as Diablo fully embraces what he's done and the nuke detonates destroying him way out into the ocean. Deadshot gets the upperhand and sucker punches Joker but is stopped by Harley who takes his gun and points it at Deadshot. Joker laughs and declares that Harley will always be "his" as she creeps towards him... only to then pistol whip Joker so hard that some of his grilled teeth fly out.
Harley Quinn then falls to her knees and sobs. Deadshot gently removes the gun out of her hands as Black Manta, Killer Croc, and Katana comfort her. But Black Manta approaches Joker and briefly holds his harpoon at his head. He knows Joker could once again commit more devestating crimes and wants to end things now. Harley and Deadshot look on before the harpoon is shot out of Manta's hands. Descending from the shadows: Batman.
Killer Croc - who at this point is just done with all of this - says "Where the fuck have you been?" to Batman and Batman admits he was late in finding Joker's hideout. He thanks the Squad but decides to take Joker to a secure facility rather than kill him as the Squad would like. Deadshot refuses to listen to Batman and argues "If Quinn wants him dead, then Mr. J's gone die". But Harley says it's okay that even now, it's not worth killing Joker and giving him the satisfaction. Batman smiles saying Harley's come a long way before taking Joker and departing in the Batwing.
The final scene sees Harley Quinn, Deadshot, Katana, Killer Croc, and Black Manta all gathered in a closed bar just down the road from Arkham. They all drink and just chill after all the crap they went to and cheers to Diablo's sacrifice. Eventually they are all hammered again with Katana and Killer Croc trying to sing "Juicy" by BIG, Deadshot and Black Manta laughing their asses off, and Harley again declaring she doesn't need cocaine anymore. A very annoyed Amanda Waller and ARGUS arrive to take them back to base with Waller shaking her head that these nutjobs actually saved the day. AS they're taken away we see in the distance a flash of fire soar across the sky.
Post Credits Scene: A gentleman dressed in fine attire within a study prepares tea and teatime snacks on a platter. This man is Alfred Pennyworth, played by Joseph Marcell, who, when the room shakes, says "The Dark Knight Returns" and walks through the fourth wall as the camera pans away. The study is actually connected to the wider Batcave which is a giant underground cavern full of classic easter eggs like the Tyrannosaurus and the giant penny. The Batwing lands on a platform nearby and Batman exits it.
Removing the mask, Batman reveals his true face: Bruce Wayne, a Korean-American billionaire played by Rick Yune. Bruce strides across a walk way as Alfred places the tea tray at the desk of a gigantic supercomputer. He asks if Bruce succeeded in his mission to which Bruce reveals that he dropped off Joker at a secure prison designed by Lex Luthor himself. Alfred then tells Bruce to eat as he's been awake for the last 48 hours. But Bruce says he'll eat after he's examined the drive.
Bruce opens the suitcase given by Waller and connects a sophisticated harddrive to the supercomputer. On several screens the individual master files of several people are revealed. Mostly it's official government documents as well as photographs. These of course are of several "Metahumans" - Clark Kent, Arthur Curry, Diana Prince, Wally West, and the last being an African-American gentleman who we haven't met yet.
Their records mostly detail his career as a US Marine but a photograph shows him flying in a flash of green light. This is Idris Elba
as John Stewart / Green Lantern.
His file however reads "MIA". Disturbingly the files for Clark and Arthur go back to at least their respective childhoods as seen in photographs. Diana's file features the famed WWI Photo with her unit as well as video footage from 1984 in Egypt, and recent footage from Paris. Bruce is silent as the camera pans away from his back as he reads all of this (all of the details I mentioned would be on screen for barely seconds) and subtlely, the Batman theme plays before a swarm of bats blacken the screen.
Second Post Credits Scene: We see Arkham Asylum which is now very destroyed and in ruins. But we can hear the faint yells of someone shouting "Hello! Anyone? Is anyone there?". Camera pans down revealing King Shark who is still impaled where Black Manta left him. He's not angry yelling but more so sounds a little annoyed. Apparently despite ARGUS sweeping the area everyone just assumed he was dead. King Shark keeps asking for help as the final logos are seen. Final Thoughts:
Overall what I've written I believe would have been a far more engaging, exciting, and better Suicide Squad film that what we got in 2016. It's a more character built story, a more grounded story actually about supervillains as black ops, as well as more focused. Not only that but I've world built in the proper way which somewhat expands on the history of this DC Film universe but for the most part wasn't trying to be an ad for future movies (sans the very big post-credits scene).
Harley Quinn is the main focus because it's weird to have her and not put in the work to make her a protagonist. This is what the original film failed in. It had Harley more so as an image and less like a character. This is what Birds of Prey
does right. So Harley is our focus, who drives the story, whose redemption and change is what we hope for as she bonds with the Suicide Squad. Obviously Will Smith as Deadshot is our second protagonist and El Diablo our third. But ultimately the whole Squad changes for the better and its through the bonding spent showing passage of time in this draft that cements this. Rather than spending a couple of hours together like they do in the original.
Also in my previous rewrites, I did not bother to introduce Batman until this film. Why is that? Well, I think popular culture - and really even beyond hardcore comics fans - people already know who the hell Batman is. We've seen his origin story so many times that we don't need his reintroduction. Also the change to Rick Yune is both personal preference and due to already having enough white Batmen.
Stay tuned for next time: Justice League.
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2020.06.12 03:00 sevaji Anyone in Toronto willing to work with me?
I have an Akita/Chow Chow mix, 1 year 6 months, male, not neutered. He is absolutely friendly with people, loves other dogs - he has the odd issue with other males (due to not being neutered), though, he is never the one to provoke or attack.
At this point you must get the idea; he's difficult to groom. Although he doesn't like it, he allows himself to be brushed and bathed (he mostly just whines and tries to run away - never aggressive). The problem is his nails. He doesn't give 'paw' for long, and cowers as soon as you hold his paw, or touch the clipper to his nails. Up until now, I bathed and brushed him myself, and had his nails done at the vet, who did them for free every checkup. He allowed the vet to do them while I gave him treats - there was no issue. But, that vet has since closed. I then started doing his nails at home, which was okay when he was younger and smaller, but no longer seems to be a possibility. He just does not let you have his paw long enough to locate the quick and cut the nail. Trying to force him only makes it worse, and I do not want to add to the problem by doing so. The worst he does is give a 'warning snap', which is to say, he bites in your direction, but, does not actually bite you.
So, what I'm looking for is someone in the Toronto/Etobicoke area who is willing to work with me. I understand the general advice is to sedate him, but, I'd really, really like to avoid that. I think gradually reintroducing him to the process, in a new environment, with a trained professional, is the best way to go.
To the potential candidate; I would be happy to muzzle him, I would be present (and involved, if need be), I would be happy to end the appointment at any time if you felt uncomfortable - and, still pay a small fee for your time, and I would be happy to pay extra if you can manage to get the job done despite his problematic behavior.
Again, though he does not like being brushed or bathed, he allows you to do so. The issue is with clipping his nails. I don't mind continuing to brush and bathe him myself, but would be ever grateful if someone could help me with clipping his nails.
Please, if you're willing or interested, feel free to PM me.
Thank you kindly.
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2020.06.03 17:19 Arcturus17 [Help] with a loud, anxious, destructive dog.
3 years ago I adopted an adult GSD/Chow mix. It became clear early on he had serious separation anxiety when he ripped the trim off the front door while I was at work one day. I got him a crate, and he didn't destroy anything after that, not even in the crate. But according to my roommate, he would howl for at least half an hour every morning after I left. I believe this stopped after some months.
I have since moved into an RV (expense related) and no longer have the space for a crate he could fit in. I also work 12 hour overnights now. Neither was an issue at first, but then he ripped the screen out of the inside door one night, so I started leashing him on 6 ft lead and a harness while I was gone. He still damaged the door, so I moved to a 3 ft lead. Last night, at midnight, I get a text from a neighbor saying he woke them up with his howling and crying. I get back this morning and he has absolutely trashed the door again somehow.
He's been hyperreactive since I got him. He's become increasingly reactive-aggressive to other dogs, so I can't take him to dog parks any more and have to widely avoid all dogs out on walks, which makes walking him zero fun. He whines constantly - in the car when it's not in motion. Anywhere on leash outside when we're not moving. Often just any time we're in public. The second anyone who was paying attention to him stops doing so. Sometimes just because molecules have shifted somewhere. I love him, but it absolutely makes me want to tape him shut. I am somewhat concerned by the levels of violence towards him I find myself having to resist. But I resist.
To address this, 4ish weeks ago I started him on Prozac, 40 mg a day, which has had zero effect. The only time he is tolerable is when I give him the 100 mg trazodone and 300 mg gabapentin the vet gave me for acute use.
I know he needs more exercise than I have been giving him, but it's hard to be motivated to do so when he's constantly either crying or trying to harass other dogs. I plan to try different medications to see if we can find one that works for his anxiety and reactivity. As for other stimulation, he has near zero interest in toys. He doesn't chase. He doesn't fetch. He doesn't do anything more than 20 feet away from me for more than 5 or 10 minutes before he starts whining and crying again. The only thing he likes is a plastic chew bone, and even that he only picks up maybe twice a week.
Additionally, he's down near the bottom of the barrel intellectually, even for a dog. Most of those who have met him agree. He's also incredibly difficult to train. For two months now, twice a day, I've been training him to sit and wait for me to tell him he can eat. He still hasn't grasped the concept. He'll wait, but only when I remind him to, and he hasn't made it past 15 seconds or me turning away from him. He gets basic commands maybe 80% of the time, if there's no distraction. But he doesn't understand the verbal commands well, and needs gestures to get it. This makes long-range recall nearly impossible.
I can't overstate how much the whole issue is dragging on my mental state. I can't leave him anywhere without him destroying my things or annoying the neighbors. My girlfriend dislikes him (and I'll be honest, sometimes I do too) because he is so loud and needy and restless when she's around. I don't want to keep giving him sedatives because that's no way to live a life... and they're expensive. I'm strongly opposed to putting him up for adoption, but at this point, if we can't solve this in the next 6 months or so, I'll have run out of patience. There's only so much I can provide a large, needy dog when I'm gone for 12+ hours at a time 3-4 nights a week now.
I know this got lengthy, so if you've made it this far, thank you. It seems I needed to vent as well.
Has anyone dealt with this with any success? Any suggestions on what else to try? I can't afford training classes, and all training would have to be done in small chunks on select days. I'm trying to get over my reluctance to exercise him, for both our sakes. Any medications that worked when Prozac didn't?
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2020.05.29 22:51 randallfcooper The Uranium Bend (Part 7)
Part 1Previous Next
Going to the baseball game I had a smile tattooed on my face. Entering those magical gates into the temporary world of competitive entertainment, my eyes were lit up like twinkling stars. We were in the front row, so close to first base I felt like I could give a player a pat on the back. Managers were hollering at umpires, players were mouthing off at each other, foul balls were flying every direction, and the whole time I was grinning ear to ear. Chowing down on Cracker Jack every inning. Ray, Saul, and I kept exchanging glances; smiling and laughing at the Reds striking out the Giants, the Reds making diving catches, and the Reds hitting the ball up and down the field.
9 to 2. Reds won. What a thrill of a game, and a memory I will always cherish. The game started at 4 PM and ended at 7 PM, afterwards we ate a meal at a restaurant downtown in San Francisco, and we finished up the evening taking a sightseeing cruise back to Helen's house. The valley and the water looked picturesque, looking back at the city. The golden hour was making every building glisten and glow. Just as the sun fully set on the horizon, we pulled up to Helen's house in the driveway.
Ray dropped his jaw and said, "Don't leave the car just yet.”
The tone in his voice was hollow and empty, my heart sank and it felt like my chest was caving in.
“Why?” Saul asked.
"Helen said that if something was wrong when we came back, she would turn every light on in the house.”
"Oh, I thought it was strange the entire
house was lit up,” Saul turned to Ray with his brow puckered. “What do you think we ought to do?”
"I'll tell you what we’ll do, I want you to go around and wait outside by the back door. I'll go in through the front first, and Bradley will be behind me. If you hear anything, like a gunshot or any sort of struggle, rush in. If not, my codeword for you will be ‘Bloody Murder’, in which case I’ll need you to storm in. Got it?”
“Got it,” Saul said, shoveling a pistol in his pocket that he retrieved from the glove box.
"You ready for this, Bradley?" Ray asked, spinning around in his seat to look at me in the eye.
“Yeah,” I said.
"All right, let's get out of the car and quietly close the door,” Ray directed as we slid out and pressed the door closed. The three of us tiptoed to the house.
Once Saul was hidden in the shadows on the side of the house we hovered at the front. Ray and I shared one last glance, a nod, and a deep breath. He slipped in the key and turned the lock. Stepping inside, my heart sputtered and a charge of energy pierced my body.
Helen was tied up in a chair at the center of the living room. Benji was chained to the inactive fire place, with a muzzle on his nose, whimpering.
Marshall’s blistered red face greeted us with a wide grin. He clutched Ray’s neck and spiked him to the ground. I brought my hands together, but he gripped my head and tossed me like a bowling ball, slamming into the wall on the other side of the room.
“Ray, because of you, I’m forever cursed with this uranium damage,” Marshall shoved his foot on Ray’s neck, crushing it down.
“At…least…you’re…alive…” the side of Ray’s lip curled up.
Marshall whipped out a revolver and wasted no time firing howling shots to Ray’s left thigh, right thigh, left bicep and right bicep, then lifted his foot off his throat. Ray let out a wailing scream, and the back door fumbled open and a struggle of grunts and thrusts ensued.
“At least you’re alive, Ray,” Marshall sneered and marched over to where I was collapsed on the ground, I tried to pull myself up but I was too weak. Marshall yanked me up by my hair, seized my throat, and pinned me against the wall. He pierced me with his cold blue leer. His grin was as wide as could be and his distorted face sent chills down to my toes.
“You’re supposed to protect me, I need to be safe to develop the—"
Marshall bashed my head against the wall. "We tried to do that the easy way, remember? Besides, it's nice to get a little revenge on a brat like you."
My vision was blurry, the coppery taste of blood lingered in my mouth, my brain felt like a fish in a bowl, rolling downhill. Footsteps came into the room from the back, Saul is going to kick your ass.
“The partner has been sedated,” Dr. Faulkner hissed.
“Good. Sedate the other. I can't stand his constant screaming,” Marshall barked.
"I thought you weren't going to shoot anyone? I thought we were just going to get the boy?" Dr. Faulkner said.
"You can't be serious? You agree to go on a mission like this and you expect this to go peacefully?” Marshall yelled.
"I thought tying up the girl and dog was a little much but I—“
Ray continued to holler at the top of his lungs.
"Shut him the fuck up already!” Marshall growled.
Dr. Faulkner rushed over and injected him with a needle, after a brief moment of hesitation. Ray’s screaming died down like a police siren driving down the street.
"Now come over here, and inject the boy god dammit!”
"All right, all right! I just need to grab some more of the sedative from my bag.”
My breath was fading, but Marshall shook me like a bobble head, still clutching my throat. "I'd be happy to choke you out, but you'll be put out longer with this drug," he winked. "I need you to stay awake so you can feel the pain of the needle pricking your neck
Dr. Faulkner crept towards Marshall’s shoulder, and he flicked the syringe to squirt the air bubble out.
“Any day now, Faulkner,” Marshall grunted.
Each breath became slower and deeper. My pupils dilated and my jaw dropped. This was the end of the road, I was going to go back into a laboratory and develop a weapon that might destroy the world. Accept it, Bradley. We had a good run.
The needle sparkled in the light as it approached my neck.
I shut my eyes, and grimaced.
One or two parts left, I promise.
submitted by randallfcooper
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2020.05.07 19:18 B-John-Burton Tales of an Arkham prince
Hello reddit! The following project is called Tales of an Arkham Prince
, a spin off of the batman universe that entirely re imagines the idea of the joker. This is the first chapter posted here, with many more to come. I hope you all enjoy It! go to https://www.reddit.com/useB-John-Burton
to check out more of my work and/or follow up on the story!
Somewhere overhead, a mosquito is buzzing. It is a fat, juicy mosquito, plump from the vital fluids of many an inmate being sucked out of their unsuspecting vascular systems and fed into its greedy maw. Often, it strikes them while they sleep, an agent of chaos on a secret mission from the gods on high, sent to drain the population of its precious fluid and knock everybody down a peg. The red welts that form leave tales of its existence, tales of its sliding through the darkness to do unspeakable things to areas of the human form that most humans are too busy to pay serious attention to, unless they get an uncomfortable red welt. The mosquitoes should be the bane of everyone here’s existence. They should drive these men madder than they already are. But they don’t. In fact, no one seems to notice, an observation that confuses Arthur greatly as he swats at one of the corpuscular menaces, thwarting its efforts to make a quick snack out of his thigh. It’s the fourth one that he’s killed while waiting for the doctor. The fourth, disease ridden, filth carrying parasite that has tried to steal something from him which it can never return. The fourth monster he has slain since entering the waiting room. The fourth notch on his belt. Monsters of the tiny and buzzing variety were not the target of today’s meeting. Arthur hadn’t been informed as to the true nature of today’s meeting. The nice lady at the shelter had simply told him to get on the 317 Bus and ride it all the way through Gotham to this lonely building on the outskirts of town. Arthur liked the building when he rode up. It reminded him of himself in a way that he couldn’t quite place until he was allowed through the front doors and saw the cavernous spaces inside. Most of the halls were cramped and dimly lit, but the main reception room was massive, a space that engulfed anyone who entered in its sheer emptiness. Arthur knew then that this was the kinship that he felt with the façade. Both of them were lonely, out of sync with the world around them. Both of them were abandoned, left by their creators to sit and rot as the moss grew up and buried them under layers of time. And most of all, both had big, empty spaces inside of them. Spaces that the doctors were trying to investigate, too, or at least poking their bulbous noses around inside of to see what the deal was. Arthur was whisked from the comradery of the hall and down one of those dark, cramped halls, and stuffed into a waiting room on the second floor. He’d heard rumors that if they took you up past the fourth floor here, there was no coming out. At least, not as the same person as you were when entered the building. Going up past the fourth floor… it changed people. It took the hinges that were slightly loose and ripped them off one’s head entirely. It popped your skull open so that the doctors could nose around like your head were the entrance hall, and then didn’t bother to suture it back together for you afterwards. It was a baaaad place, man. That’s how his bunkmate Bruce had said it to him
“its baaaaad man, a baaaad place man” Bruce drew out the vowels in his words when he wanted to sound serious. Arthur thought it made him sound like a cartoon dog on a kid’s program. Not that he ever got to watch much TV. The young boy’s shelter where he and Bruce were staying only had a shitty little rusted out antenna TV, that, if they were lucky, got the Gotham channel 5 news broadcast in, on a clear day. So, Arthur didn’t watch much T.V. He tried busying himself with games, but there weren’t many of those around either. Or books. Or anything that a young and developing mind might find to sate its mental hunger and prevent itself from atrophying entirely; or worse. Those were Bruce’s words, too.
“or worse maaaan. You never know maaaan. Wires could get friggin crossed up there maaaan. And then you don’t know shit about shiiiiit”
What could be worse than an emaciated mind? Arthur didn’t have the heart to think about it. He just nodded from the bottom bunk as Bruce dangled his head down over the side, poking his eyes around the bottom of the top mattress. The two would often have conversations this way, Bruce hanging himself like some sort of nocturnal animal from the top bunck, Arthur staring at the wooden slats in the bed frame and trying not to listen to his insane ranting. It was all he ever did. Rant. Rave. Talk with those stupid drawn out vowels until Arthur “couldn’t even think, maaaaaan”.
Another mosquito lands on his leg and latches on before Arthur has a chance to swat it away. He lets it have a sip. Just one sip. Just a little drop so that it thinks that the day is won. Then, he winds up, and he crushes it. Splat! An even fatter drop of red liquid pools on the top of his hairless thigh before running down his leg, smearing a whore’s kiss in lipstick of his bodies own shade across the rippling muscle. He wipes it off onto his shorts and keeps on waiting. And waiting. And waiting. The city of Gotham was majorly lacking in funding, so he supposed that the wait shouldn’t have surprised him. But it just kept grinding on, and on, and on, and on. Like everything else in his life, there seemed to be no end in sight. Just more of the same. More pain. More loneliness. More of the bad man watching him wherever he went…. The bad man. Why did he have to think of the bad man? He hadn’t seen him at all today. But now, there he was, sneaking up through his thoughts, a mosquito of a more terrible breed who feed on things that Arthur couldn’t wipe on the leg of his pants when they came spilling out of him. He slowly pans his attention to the corner of the waiting room. Sure enough, he’s standing there, his chin tucked to his chest, looking up at Arthur with the blood red eyes of the devil. He smiles, revealing fangs that are dripping thick black pus. He shimmies his shoulders to fold his wings more comfortably around his body. Arthur locks his gaze back on his shoes and tries not to notice. God, damnit. Why did he have to think of the bad man? He swats another mosquito and thinks hard on his conversation last night with Bruce, trying to revert to a time where the bad man wasn’t watching him from the corner. This time didn’t exist though. Arthur isn’t stupid. He knows this to be true. He knows that the bad man follows him wherever he goes. At fourteen years old, he’s had to drop out of three public schools for making a scene when the bad man was going to do something awful. No one understood that he was only trying to protect them. No one understood that all he wanted to do was save them from themselves. But they wouldn’t listen. And until now, he was too afraid to tell them. If the bad man could follow him in here, though, he could follow him anywhere. Maybe the doctors would understand….
“maaaaan, that shit is whack, maaan” this was Bruce’s reply when he tried to tell him about the bad man. Bruce Wayne was a ruffian from the wrong side of town who just couldn’t keep himself out of trouble. An orphan whose parents were killed by a street gang in front of his eyes while the family waited at the Gotham soup kitchen, Bruce was fond of crime. The event should have been some major turning point in his young life, some call to action that made him take a stand against crime and aspire to be a detective and solve his parents murder when he grew up. But this wasn’t some comic book movie where every event has profound meaning and impact, where everything changes everyone for the better. This was real life. And sometimes, people get their brains blown out when trying to get a scrap of moldy bread to feed their families. His dad wasn’t even the intended target. He was caught in the crossfire. And sometimes in response to these tragic events, the effected party in question sees those brains, splatter on the pavement like a dropped carton of eggs, and thinks “hey…. That’s real power, right there”. Bruce should have been in juvenile detention for the litany of felonies he had had a hand in at such a young age, but the Gotham PD were too busy dealing with the gangs and the heroin problem to have time to worry about youngsters flash robbing convenience stores and making off with all of their beer. Arthur had yet to meet an alcoholic, but he figured that Bruce probably fit the bill to a T. When he wasn’t too busy plotting his next major score, he was getting smashed on the loot from his last one. There was no interlude between robberies where Bruce was not falling down drunk, and Arthur would drag him into his bottom bunk and let him sleep it off while he made excuses to the workers in the Gotham home for young boys about Bruce’s coming down with a nasty case of the flu. The workers there were less interested than the Gotham PD, and didn’t pay very much attention to the boys anyway. That is, until Bruce turned up with his face bashed in.
“Don’t talk like that” Arthur pleaded with the young Bruce, dangling himself like a bat from the top bunk and swaying under the influence of the several forty ounce containers of beer he had chugged throughout the day. Arthur could smell the booze radiating off his breath with the intensity of the sun’s rays in empty space. They fried his olfactory system like a body without a space suit.
“Don’t talk like whaaaat man? That shit your telling me IS waaaack man. You think theres a “ERP” a fucking demon following you around? That why you never made it past the third grade maaaan?” he lowers himself so that his chin is hooked on the bottom frame of the top mattress, and his whole face is in view
“I said DON’T say that…” under his covers, Arthur’s hands have balled into fists. He’s never actually punched anyone before, and he’s not sure he can do it if Bruce keeps running his mouth. There is a lot that Arthur isn’t sure of, these days.
“or whaaaaat man? You gona sick that big ole monster on me? Huh? Hahahaha” Bruce laughs like a soft mad child, smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy. He doesn’t see the bad man approaching from the corner. No one ever sees the bad man approaching from the corner
“I’m warning you….” Arthur looks the bad man in his dark, red eyes. The corneas are a sickly yellow, and remind Arthur of the skin around a heavy smokers fingertips. Arthur shakes his head, trying to ward the bad man away. He smiles the same smile that he gives him the next day in the waiting room, and takes another step towards Bruce.
“Oh yea? And what are you going to “ERP” going to do about it? Why don’t you make me, you fuckin freak?” the hiccups should be disarming, they should make Arthur see that this is nothing more than a drunk child who is too inebriated to understand what’s good for him. But they have the opposite effect on him. They enrage him. They make him lust for blood, like the mosquitoes that are currently attempting to devour him alive. And freak… why did he have to say freak? It’s what all the bullies said to him in school, all the ones he tried to save from the bad man before he did bad things to them. He was starting to realize that you couldn’t save everyone, even those people that wanted to be saved. He gives Bruce one, last chance.
“You take that back…” his arms are shaking, and he tucks them tightly under his torso to prevent himself from sounding like one of those vibrating mattresses that people screw on at shitty motels. Once again, Bruce is too drunk to notice.
“What, freak? Well, if what you’re saying is true, then you really are a fucking freak.”
“Please, just stop….” The bad man is right behind him now
“Freak freak freak, Arthur is a FUCKING FREAK!” he shouts his cruelty at the only friend he has who gives a damn whether or not he lives or dies. It’s the last straw.
“Fine. That’s it” Arthur nods to the bad man, who unfurls his wings. His wingspan is massive, it fills the whole of the room behind Bruce’s back, so to Arthur it looks like Bruce really is a bat, dangling against the black backdrop of the night sky
“Hahahaha, that’s it, he says, and like I said, what are you going to…..”
The bad man grabs Bruce around his throat and rips him off the top bunk, slamming his head into the concrete floor. Blood pours from a gash that opens above his right eyebrow, flowing down his cheeks and painting his lips into the smile of a sad clown
“Arthur, what the fuck man, what…” in his surely concussed daze, he doesn’t see the bad man wind up and release a hammering blow on his stunned face. Arthur can hear one of his cheek bones crunch like a glass bottle being smashed inside of a rag
“Ahhhhhhh, jesus, fuck, Arthur, stop, please”
The bad man winds up and releases again, blackening Bruce’s other eye and laying him flat on the ground. His hot face sticks to the cool concrete like a fly to that sticky paper that they hang on the walls in the summer. He feels like an insect right now, about to be stepped on by the shoe of the human he so carelessly annoyed.
“Arthu, pease, I’m rally hur” through his fractured jaw, he talks like Marlon Brando in the godfather movies, like he’s hiding marbles in the corners of his mouth.
“I’m sorry, Bruce, I told you that I can’t stop him when he gets released”
“fuc, you are fucn razy man” syllables drop from his speech as he tries to hold is jaw in place with his right hand. The bad man has been hovering over his limp form on the ground, waiting to strike.
“plea” Bruce croaks through his bloody lips, to no avail. Arthur nods at the bad man once more, who brings both fists down on the back of Bruce’s head. The force of the monster knocks Bruce unconscious. Arthur lets him lay there, crusting himself to the floor while his innards swell from the contact. The bad man kneels down and runs a finger through the torrent of blood on the ground, lapping it off his finger like a kitten might lap up spilled milk. He moves to start chowing down on other parts of Bruce, on parts that are still attached and not running on the ground around his feet, but Arthur stops him. That wasn’t the purpose he intended when he set the bad man loose. He was angry, but he was also compassionate. All he wanted was what was best for Bruce, what was best for everyone. He waves the bad man away, and the bad man complies. Arthur has some power over him that neither of them can understand. It’s like the unwritten laws of the universe have conspired to give this troubled boy the power to control this demigod that stalks him whenever he goes. The bad man slinks back into his corner and folds his wings around himself. In the dark, all that Arthur can see are his glowing red eyes staring back at him.
Arthur rolls over and pretends to be sleeping. When the night watch comes by later to check on them (obviously the commotion in their room did little to disturb the poker game that they played behind the front desk every night) he shakes Arthur “awake” and asks him
“What the fuck happened here?” his eyes are as wide as an Amish man who just stumbled out of a strip club on rumspringa. He didn’t know that the world could be so obscene
“What do you mean? Oh shit, oh fuck!” Arthur pretends to be shocked when he sees Bruce still crumpled in the same spot on the floor like a tossed candy wrapper. He’s still sticky with jelly filling, too.
“God damnit, you didn’t hear this when it happened?” the guard is worried, but not for the young man with potential brain damage that he has yet to attend to medically. His worries concern the fact that his check up was fifty minuets past schedule. He hasn’t checked the boy for a pulse yet, but if the time of death is listed as after the time he was supposed to have checked on the boys, it will not look good for him. He might even get charged with this shit, that new DA was on a crusade right now, and looking to make an example of anyone in Gotham who wasn’t playing it straight, which, frankly, was everyone in Gotham. The man himself frequented the underaged whore houses, for Christ's sake, and word on the street was that his sexual tastes verged into the realm of the violent.
“I, I don’t know… I guess I thought I was dreaming. He must have fallen from the top bunk, you know how he likes to drape himself over the thing” it was a good lie, a lie that Arthur was proud to have thought of on the spot. The best lies contain traces of the truth, and there were several traces laced into Arthur’s fabrication. He usually did think he was dreaming, most of the time, with the bad man always there. And the staff had recently chastised Bruce for hanging himself off the bed and falling asleep. The head staff member had warned him that falling asleep and sliding onto the hard-stone floor was a possibility not a week prior. So, Arthur had an out, Arthur had a cover that was believable. Or it would have been believable, had the bad man not pounded Bruce’s face into an unrecognizable pulp. The night watchman rolled Bruce onto his stomach and had to hold back a gag at the sight of his face. The bad man had really done a number on him. Arthur stifled something as well, but it was a laugh, and not a bodily act of revulsion, that Arthur was holding back. “serves you right, freak” he thought to himself in secret shame as the watchman checked for a pulse and then started CPR. Bruce wasn’t a freak. But it felt good to call him one. The ambulance took forever to arrive, as they always did on the wrong side of town. The EMTs were as taken back as the night watchman, and one of them pulled him aside while they were wheeling Bruce out on a stretcher
“What’s with that kid man?” he whispers frantically
“I don’t know, I guess he must have fallen off of his bunk…”
“No, not that kid man, the other kid… this kid did NOT just fall off the bunk, ok? He has massive trauma to the head and neck region that appear to be consistent with multiple acts of blunt force trauma, not just one swift blow to the head” the EMT sounded impressive to the watchman, and he was. He was studying to be a full-blown detective with the Gotham PD, and as such, took every chance to engage in some amateur sleuthing.
“Fuck man, Arthur you mean? He’s harmless, I don’t think he would hurt a fly. All he ever talks about is “wanting to save people”. It’s a bit creepy for my taste, but I let it slide. You don’t think….” The guard is realizing what it was that the EMT was implying. He doesn’t care for it one bit.
“I don’t know. All I know is, that story he told you is not the truth” the EMT takes pleasure in dropping bombs on people’s reality like this and then absconding to the obscurity of his ambulance. He leaves the puzzled guard in the boy’s room as he rushes to his parked metal beast and then rushes Bruce to the hospital. The doctors there will later confirm his assessment, that Bruce did not fall, but was savagely beaten. When the hospital phones with this information, the staff of the boy’s center have a long talk about what to do with this troubled young man. They decide that it would be best for him to go and talk to someone at the mental hospital, to try and sort out his issues before they “spiral” into something terrifying. And so, here Arthur sits, waiting to see a head doctor and figure out if there is anything unfixable going on in his brain. He kills a few more bugs and lets a few drops of sweat roll down his back before inquiring as to how much longer he’ll be waiting.
“About five minuets” the annoyed nurse replies before burying his nose back in his magazine. It’s the same reply he’s gotten whenever he asks. Returning to his seat in defeat, Arthur wants to nod at the bad man and tell him to have a go at the obnoxious nurse. But he holds off. That isn’t the purpose of coming here today. The purpose is to try and keep the bad man contained, not to set him loose again. Setting him loose is what keeps getting Arthur into trouble. And Arthur doesn’t like trouble. The nurse seemed to be telling the truth for once, and in less than five minutes, the door behind the man opens, and a doctor in a sterile white medical coat walks out and calls
Arthur leaps up from his seat and glances at the bad man in the corner, but he is gone. No matter. He will be waiting for him in the next room. Arthur knows this as a certainty. He walks over, awkwardly shakes the doctor’s hand, and follows him down an even more narrow and dimmer hallway into his office. Inside, a nondescript metal desk sits in the center, with two shitty plastic chairs on either side. The wall behind the desk is lined with filing cabinets, stacked with mountains of unfiled documents on top. The desk itself is also covered in an insurmountable pile of paperwork. Its like stepping into a well curated hoarders’ den. The doctor motions to one of the chairs and takes a seat. Arthur stands for a moment, until the bad man appears in the corner behind him. Confident he can escape if need be, though he doesn’t want to, he takes his seat. Hopefully, this will all be over in a moment, and the bad man will be gone for good. And if not… he will cross that bridge when he comes to it.
“Good afternoon, Arthur” the man unfolds a medical pad and jots something at the top. Apparently he had enough formal paperwork here to last him a lifetime. Adding to the pile would be redundant. Their meeting is off the books, for now. Arthur swats a mosquito that lands on his leg
“What was that?” the doctor inquires curiously
“Just a mosquito, these damn things are everywhere. You should really get an exterminator out here”
“Right…” he scribbles something under the top line. Arthur starts to get nervous. This man is making assessments about him already, before he’s even had the opportunity to speak, to clarify. No one ever gave him a chance to clarify. They just assumed the worst.
“So, what brings you in to my office today Arthur?” Arthur hates the rhetorical question. The man saw his file. He talked directly with the home’s director before Arthur arrived. He knows why he is here today. He just wants Arthur to say it.
“My roommate fell off of his bunk and hurt himself” Arthur starts to bounce his left leg on his heel, a nervous tic that he tries desperately to suppress, but often fails at suppressing.
“And why would this cause you to come to a mental health facility, Arthur?” more rhetoric, more leading questions. Arthur judges right then and there that he will get nothing from this meeting today. But he is already here, so he might as well continue.
“Because they think I’m fucking crazy. Is that what you want to hear, doc?” he is hoping to shake this button down, oxford cloth man into talking like a human being. Instead of being shaken, the doctor chuckles
“Hehe, right to the punchline, eh Arthur? Alright, well tell me, do YOU think that you are crazy?” the warmth in the man’s eyes melts Arthur’s frigid exterior. This might just be a friend after all.
“No, doc, I don’t think I’m crazy. I don’t know what I am….” Arthur folds his hands and looks at them like a child caught stealing a cookie. Being honest makes him squirm.
“and what do you mean by that? That you don’t know what you are?” the doctor scribbles more lines on the pad, in larger script. Arthur guesses that he must have said something important.
“I don’t know doc… I know that’s a lame answer, but I don’t know”
“Well, I saw in your file that you have been expelled from three different schools. What was all of that about?” he says it not in a judgmental way, but with a voice of concern. He is the only adult not to look at Arthur’s record and see a piece of human trash.
“I had some disputes with the other students…”
“Disputes about what?”
“About their safety….” The cryptic wording adds confusion instead of the clarity for which Arthur was looking. He really DOES sound crazy, he thinks to himself. He hears the bad man jostling with his wings, antsy to make a move
“And what about their safety did you disagree on Arthur?” the doctor is unphased. He’s seen worse than this. Much, much worse than this.
“I was just trying to protect them…” the bad man practically squeals over Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur assumes that he wants to stop him, before Arthur reveals any crucial details of their arrangement.
“Protect them from what, Arthur?”
He wants to say it, he wants to say it so badly that it is eating him alive, like the mosquitoes, like the bad man wanted to eat Bruce. But there is no escaping the truth, as uncomfortable as it makes him.
“Arthur, if you don’t share things with me, then I can’t help you. You understand how this works, right? You tell me your problems, and I see if I can help. But I can’t help if I don’t know your problems” the wording is patronizing, of course Arthur knows how therapy works. As previously stated, he’s not stupid. He thinks he might be pretty smart, actually, if the world would give him a chance.
“I know how this works, doc”
“well good, and I don’t want to pressure you into sharing anything that makes you uncomfortable! But I need information if you want me to help you”
Arthur ponders this as the bad man spreads his wings, knocking a stack of papers off of one of the filing cabinets
“Aww hell, these darn things never stay stacked. Excuse me for one second” the doctor hurries to collect the papers and order them in their disorder. It gives Arthur a chance to look at the bad man, to really look at him. He expects to see anger, a rage at the fact that Arthur would reveal their secrets. When he looks over, he sees calmness, serenity. The bad man nods at him, telling him to go ahead, do it. Do it now. It’s all the affirmation that he needs
“Getting back to the matter at hand” the doctor straightens the stack of papers between his hands on the desktop and perches them precariously on a tottering tower to his right.
“You were saying that you were trying to protect these other students, protect them from what?”
His whole life, Arthur wanted nothing more than to be accepted. He wanted to know why his parents had abandoned him at the orphanage. Why no one ever wanted to look at him for more than five seconds before turning their heads in disgust. Even when he was begging on the corner, people looked at him with a special brand of disdain. And he wanted to know why it was that he could never seem to find a place to fit in with normal people. Not like he fit in with the bad man. The bad man understood him. And now, the bad man was telling him to reveal his secrets. It couldn’t possibly make things any worse…
“The bad man” he mumbles at his knees
“What? I couldn’t quite hear you. It sounded like you said, “the bat man”. Who is the bat man, Arthur?”
Arthur chuckles now. He does everything wrong. He can’t even say the name of his imaginary friend correctly. But he likes the doctor’s phrasing. The man did look like a large bat meshed with a humanoid form. And it had a much better ring to it, “the bat man”, it had flair, style. He decides that this shall be the new title of his unseen helper, his special companion, the demon on his back that rides him into the dirt.
“The bat man has been following me for my whole life, doc”
“I see” frantic scribbling with a hand that moves so quickly, Arthur imagines that there is no legible script that gets recorded on the page. Doctor’s script is seldom legible, anyway.
“And where do you see this bat man?”
“Everywhere. In every corner. He’s there all the time”
“Is he in here with us right now?”
“Arthur? What did we say about being withholding?”
“I don’t know what that means” his lack of formal education has caused glaring gaps in his vocabulary, gaps that Arthur would fill, if he had access to any suitable reading materials.
“It means not sharing information when you know you have it. It means not being fully honest”
“I didn’t realize that there were degrees to honesty…” it’s a witty come back for a kid with less than a third-grade education
“There are degrees to everything in this world Arthur. Come on, tell me, is he in here with us right now?”
“yes” he squeaks
“And what is he doing in here right now?”
“He’s standing right behind you. Asking me….”
“Asking you what, Arthur?” the doc should be terrified, but he’s enthralled. It’s as if he’s been reading a series of novels that went unfinished, and Arthur has revealed that he is in possession of the last, vital book, the one that explains everything.
“He’s asking me if he can hurt you”
Crickets. The doctor’s engaged demeanor falters as he restrains himself from looking over his shoulder. These are nothing more than the insane ramblings of a sick child, but that doesn’t stop a shiver from rocketing down his spine.
“And why would he want to hurt me, Arthur?” the doc sits up in his chair and straightens his tie. He is in control here.
“He wants to hurt everyone. Its all that he wants to do. And all I want to do is stop him”
“But the batman isn’t real Arthur. If I turn around right now, there will be nothing there behind me” The doc tries walking him down from his delusion, thinking that revealing this fact to Arthur will force him to see reality.
“Are you so sure, doc?”
The doctor gulps and visibly fights his own neck muscles from turning his head and checking that there is no monster standing beside him
“Yes, Arthur, I’m sure. These delusions, when did they start?” he makes another small note on the pad. Arthur can see him writing something with an “S” at the start. He will learn later that this word is “Schizophrenia”.
“What do you mean, when did they start?”
“I mean, when did you first start seeing the batman?”
“Always, doc. Forever. He’s always been there”
The doc jots down another word above the first, also beginning with an S. Arthur will learn later that this word is “severe”.
“So, you’re saying that for as long as you can remember, the batman has been following you?”
“And you don’t think that he will hurt anyone, unless you tell him he can?”
“Ugh” the doctor sighs, a break in his impeccable bedside manner. He lights a cig and inhales a calming burst of smoke. Dealing with loonies all day is enough to make anyone reach for a lighter.
“Arthur, I’m not going to lie to you. This is very troubling. If you have had these visions from the time you were a small boy…”
“They aren’t VISIONS, doc…” he cuts the man off before he can finish. Calling the batman a vision is like calling the sun “just a vision” to Arthur. If it were only a vision, how did he keep getting burned?
“Right… well, if you’ve been seeing the batman for your whole life, then that means it is an ingrained area of your personality. It means that you might need some serious medication in order to start feeling better. You want to feel better, don’t you Robert?”
“I don’t know, doc… I honestly don’t know what feeling better would even mean, I’ve felt like shit for so long…”
“It’s alright, Arthur, I know that this can be difficult. Why don’t you follow me up to the fifth floor and we can have a little chat with some of the other doctors up there, ok?”
“The… fifth floor?” they wanted to take him past the fourth floor. They knew he was nuts. The jig was up. He had to get out of here.
“Just for a talk! Then we can get you some pills and see if you can’t figure out what it means to feel good. How does that sound, Arthur?”
“It sounds good” he lies as he scans the room for an exit. He can see through the slit in the window that the door at the end of the hallway is secured, that he would need to be buzzed through to escape. He turns to look for the newly christened batman, but he is no where to be found. Great, just when he needed him most, the freaking thing disappears.
“Good, well then, follow me” the doctor stands and makes his way to the door behind him. Arthur dismays, thinking all is lost, until he sees the batman appear in the hall. He smiles back at Arthur and pushes the buzzer door open, just a crack, just enough where Arthur can push the thing wide if he makes a break for it. The doctor opens the door and Arthur darts past him before he has time to think.
“ARTHUR, WAIT!” but he isn’t waiting. He isn’t waiting to hear anything else this man has to say. He isn’t waiting around so that they can strap him to a table and zap him full of electricity. He’s outta here, maaaaan, as Bruce would say. Dashing down the corridor, he rips open the buzzer door that the batman propped ajar for him, out past the startled nurse, and into the maze of the asylum. Fuck. He should have taken more care to remember his path when he entered. Alarm bells sound as he runs in circles on the second floor, unable to find a stairwell. It is an institution for the criminally insane, as well as being a state mental hospital, so they don’t design the things to be easy to exit. The batman appears down the end of the hall and directs him to a stairwell. He makes it back into the cavern of the lobby, that beautiful, empty space, before being tackled by two overweight men in security uniforms. They drag him up the stairs, kicking and screaming as the doctor appears behind them
“Arthur, its ok, its ok!” he tries to reassure the boy, but is getting nowhere
“Noooo, they’ll let him loose, he’ll terrorize the city!
“Guys, hit him with 5 ml Ativan, stat” the doctor speaks to the guards as if Arthur is no longer there. Mentally, he isn’t there, he’s pleading with the batman to save him. The batman does not oblige. He feels the steely pinch of the needle go into his thigh, and the darkness hedges the corner of his vision. In the main doorway, he can see the batman smile and wave while they drag him into the transport elevator
“Please, help me!” he calls through the fog of sedatives and adrenaline that are fighting for control of his brain. Once again, the batman does not oblige. The doors to the elevator slam shut, and Arthur is sealed in the box with the two guards and the doctor. He slumps in their arms as the drugs begin to take hold, uttering
“I cant, I cant go to Arkham, I cant… I cant go, I cant go to Arkam”
“Hehe, little prince thinks he’s the king of the world, eh?” one of the guards barks to the doc, who replies only with a frown.
“Well, welcome home, little prince. Whether or not you think you can’t go, your royalty exists only in Arkham asylum now”
“Bill, that’s enough, don’t tamper with my patients!” the doctor snaps from behind them
“Hehe, sorry doc, sorry”
Blackness encompasses everything that Arthur sees, a pungent, penetrating blackness. As he slips into unconsciousness, he is able to eek out one last phrase.
“If I’m the prince of Arkham, batman is my dark knight”
“What was that?” the doc wants to record everything that Arthur says for later analysis. But Arthur is gone…
“Did you hear what he said?” he asks Bill, who is still chuckling to himself
“What, this little joker? He didn’t say shit worth mentioning doc that wasn’t a bad joke, doc. I’ve got something for you though...”
“Did you hear the one about Pagliacci?”
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2020.04.06 18:06 ShortBip Help, grooming advice
Please don’t scold me. I now realize we should have done things differently when the boy was younger. We had other difficult situations at home. Now, I have a six year old anxious chow who is nearly impossible to groom without sedation. More than one groomer has refused. He’s a fear biter.
Please offer any grooming tips. What sort of brush will get the job done most efficiently? Want to minimize time spent annoying him. Advice for scissor trimming? Both how to do it and with what scissors.
Any advice on calming him, reducing his nipping and snapping is greatly appreciated.
Thoughts o. Adding coconut or other oils to his food?
I can’t afford a dog whisperer, but any advice on what I can do on my own is welcome. I’ve been googling and reading but everything I find is on how to groom or train a dog with normal temperament.
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2020.02.25 20:10 existential_art AITA for shaving my aunt's heavily matted cat against her wish?
A bit of background: My aunt (Dad’s sister, 40’s?) lives with my grandmother (dad’s mom) with three cats. Two belong to my aunt, one is my grandma’s. My aunt has no job, provides no income, and is verbally abusive towards my grandmother. Despite my aunt’s name being on the cat’s microchip, she does not care for them. My grandma pays for their food, vet bills, cleans their litter boxes, and handles everything else for them.
On to the story: Recently my aunt was hospitalized because she wasn’t managing her diabetes and her medications were having bad side effects with each other. It was nothing life threatening, she was just retaining a lot of water and needed to have her fluids monitored. At the same time my other aunt was going on vacation and asked my Grandma to watch her dog in another city, so I was tasked with house and pet sitting. When I got there, we noticed some large mats on the orange tabby Cooper. We called my grandma to ask permission for us to shave him because she pays for everything for them and in everything but name he’s her cat. She said yes, so my mom and I sat down with the pet clippers we use on our dog to shave some of the smaller mats. That didn’t work on the larger ones, so we made an appointment to get him shaved at the vet (Out of our own pocket).
Well my aunt heard about this from the hospital, called my dad, and screamed at him for touching her cat without her permission. She then called my grandma, screamed at her, saying it “triggered her” (her words) because when she was five her aunt cut her hair without asking and it “gave her PTSD.” Aunt swore at my grandma and reduced her to tears. My grandma called my dad crying and my dad had to comfort her.
That night when we went over to feed them, my mom sat down with our heavy duty pet clippers we got from my moms mom that they used on their chow mix and got as many of the mats off as we could. What we couldn’t get off, we used scissors to cut (removing the top layer) and break up enough that he could move properly. I had no problem with this, Cooper is happier and more energetic now. I still wish we could have taken him to the vet to have him sedated and fully shaved, but we got as much off as we could. It ended up being about a pound of mats off a ten pound cat.
Are we the assholes for shaving the cat after my aunt told us not to?
Before and after of the cat: https://imgur.com/a/UQc7c56
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2020.02.06 12:01 Hewholooksskyward A Tinker's Damn - Chapter 3
My Patreon page: http://www.patreon.com/hewholooksskyward Link to the Wiki page, with additional links to Clan information and background Lore. First
I Next Chapter 3: When You Make a Plan, the Universe Laughs
Despite the clean sheets and soft pillow, sleep did not come easily that night. Maggie tossed and turned as the dreams taunted her, when she wasn’t staring blankly at the ceiling. Come sunrise, she felt even more exhausted than when she’d gone to bed. With a bone-weary sigh she rose, finding her clothes cleaned and folded sitting at the foot of her cot.
The Azha patients still avoided her like the plague, which was the smartest thing they could have done. She wasn’t in the mood. Joona gave her a friendly wave as she shambled over to the shower, grunting something that might have been a reply. The stall was free as she took a washcloth and gave herself a quick wipe down, before dressing and finding her way to the eating area. Prash was busy preparing something, but the smell…
“...gack...what the hell is that?” she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s for the Azha,” he shrugged, as he scooped the brown hash into bowls. “I barely smell it anymore, but they seem to like it. Let me get them served, and I’ll fix you something.”
“No rush,” she told him. She wasn’t very hungry, truth be told. “Where’s Blye?”
“With the boy,” he told her, setting the bowls on a tray. “She’s been by his side all night.”
“Is he okay?” She flushed a bit, suddenly feeling awkward. “I mean...he seemed fine last night.”
“She’s always like that with the kids,” Prash explained, his face softening. “They’re special to her.”
“Then why…?” she began, before shaking her head, biting off the rest of the question. “...never mind.” She sighed. “Guess I’ll get workin’ on that gear.” He nodded at her as he carried the tray out to the ward, while she followed behind. She’d meant to head straight for the storage room, but catching sight of the young Chevalier hovering over the runt gave her pause. Before she realized what she was doing Maggie found herself at the kid’s cot.
Blye looked up and managed a nod. “Good morning,” she said. “Sleep well?”
Maggie shrugged. No point getting into that. “He takin’ a turn or something?”
“No...in fact his vitals have been improving steadily over the last few hours. He’s starting to breathe on his own.” She pressed a damp cloth on his forehead. “We’ll remove the tube soon. I don’t want to sedate him, not until his body is free of the toxin, but if he awakes still intubated…” Blye shook her head. “He may not react well to that…and I don’t wish to restrain him. Poor kid has suffered enough.” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “Which means the timing will be crucial.”
“How much time?” she asked.
“It could be hours...or it could be in the next ten minutes,” the medic informed her. “There’s no way to know for certain.” Taking up her minicomp, she pulled up a file. “I’ve been looking over his DNA results. They’re...not as helpful as I’d hoped.”
“He’s not in the system?” Maggie said in surprise. “I thought everybody was.”
“We try, but as scattered as we are we’re always behind,” Blye explained. “Plus, plenty of people avoid submitting their DNA, for various reasons.” The two women shared a look. “I suspect you know why.”
“Yeah...you hear things,” she sighed. “Didn’t even pin down his Clan?”
“Some of his markers seem to come from the Corsairs, but as for the rest?” Blye shrugged. “It’s a place to start. I’ll contact them after I’ve spoken with our young patient here. I’m hoping he can tell me more.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Maggie said at last, “but I got stuff to fix.” Giving the young medic a nod she headed towards the storage room...only to be brought to a crashing halt as she heard her suddenly curse.
“Get back here!” she shouted, and as Maggie turned back she saw the kid thrashing about, trying to escape her clutches. “He’s regained consciousness!”
“...bloody hell,” Maggie swore, doubling back.
“Hold him down!” Blye ordered, “He’s trying to yank out the tube!” She held his wrists, but he was fighting her hard.
There was no time for anything complicated. Maggie flopped on top of the runt, using her own body weight to pin him while she grabbed his arms and shoved them down hard against the cot. He fought and squirmed beneath her, but she held on with grim determination. “Whatever you’re gonna do…do it fast,” she wheezed. “He’s stronger than he looks!”
His eyes were wild...and they took her by surprise. They didn’t match; one was bright blue, the other dark brown. It caught her off guard...when she checked his pupils on the trip in she’d only peeled back the one...and the kid took advantage of it, trying to slither out of her grasp. But Maggie recovered quickly, clamping back down and holding him fast.
Grabbing a hypo, now that her hands were free, Blye jammed it against his neck and dosed him, but given his terror and agitation, it took a minute for him to notice. By then the two orderlies had arrived, holding him on either side as she carefully climbed off.
With his struggling subsided, the Troisième went to work checking for injuries. “Breathing is steady...pulse is regular...blood pressure holding…” she ran through the litany until finally slumping back in her chair. “I think we got lucky,” she said in relief. “Thank you, Maggie. If you hadn’t reacted so quickly…”
“His eyes,” she whispered, still breathing hard, “what the hell is wrong with him?”
“It’s called Heterochromia Iridum, and it’s perfectly harmless,” Blye explained, looking at her curiously. “I thought you knew.”
“His eyes were closed when I found him,” Maggie replied. “Had no idea.” She peered at the kid once more. “You sure it’s safe?”
“It was well documented even before the Diaspora,” she told her. “In very rare cases it can mean something more serious...but for him, it only means they’re different colors. Unusual...but nothing to fear.”
“You think maybe that’s why they abandoned him?” Maggie mused. “Cause they thought he was a Mutie?”
“God, I hope not,” the medic sighed. “Except for being malnourished, some old injuries…and being poisoned...he’s perfectly healthy.” She shook her head. “But then, people can be ignorant.”
“So...you sure he’s okay?” It was hard to believe a skinny runt like that put up such a fight.
“I won’t know for certain until I can get the tube out and run a scope down his trachea to check for injuries, but at the moment...I’m cautiously optimistic.” She turned to the orderlies. “Grab the restraints. I don’t want a repeat of that again.”
“I’ll get them,” Prash told her, hurrying off.
“With any luck, we’ll be done with everything before he wakes up,” Blye explained, taking a moment while she waited for the Sixièmes return.
“Well...I’ll be in the supply room if you need me,” Maggie said at last, shaking her head as she retreated to her work.
Hell of a way to start a morning.
Maggie had been at it for several hours, taking only a couple of quick breaks, when she heard another commotion coming from the ward. She hadn’t noticed it at first; between her focus on the task at hand and the fact she was off the main floor she’d tuned it out...until the source of the pandemonium crashed through the doorway and landed on her lap. “Woah!” she exclaimed, tossing the tools in her hands aside as the runt rebounded off her, with Blye and the orderlies in hot pursuit, skidding to a halt and fanning out as they cornered him.
“Goddamnit!” she snapped, glaring at the other three. “Is every day like this for you?” Maggie demanded, before turning her attention to the kid. “I thought you were gonna restrain him.”
“He outfoxed us,” Joona panted. “He panicked when he realized he was restrained, but then it looked like he calmed down. We thought he was listening to us when we said he was safe, so we took them off, but…” The orderly shrugged in embarrassment.
“Smart kid,” she said in grudging approval. They’d scared him, that much was obvious, and as those mismatched eyes of his darted around, he spotted something that suddenly had his full attention. Too late the Tinker realized what it was, as he lunged for a Torx driver, snatching it away and clutching it like a knife to fend them off. The kid had nowhere to go, wedged into a corner...but he wasn’t giving up without a fight. He growled at them, showing his teeth.
“...don’t suppose you got a Tranq gun,” she murmured, not making any sudden moves.
“No,” Blye shook her head. “Joona, you go left, Prash, you take the right. On the count of three…”
“Are you crazy?” Maggie hissed. “You try to grab him now someone gets stabbed...and it’ll probably be me.” She thought for a second. “Back off...give us some room,” she told them, as she fished around in her pocket.
“What are you thinking?” the Knight asked.
“That there’s a smarter way to do this,” she answered, pulling the Soya bar from her shirt. She held it out in front of her, peeling back the foil...and held it out to him. “Here, I’ll trade you,” she smiled. “Food for the tool.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at the bar, before licking his lips. Oh, he wanted it, all right...he was likely half-starved...but he didn’t trust her one bit. Well, she didn’t blame him. Bringing the food bar to her mouth she bit off a small chunk, rubbing her stomach in pleasure. “Mmmmm….” she hummed, as she saw his resolve weaken.
…there’s a reason why they bait traps with food.
The kid took a tentative half step forward, his eyes fixed on the Soya bar. She held it out to him, smiling, while she extended the other arm, and gestured to give her the tool. He growled again, not liking disarming himself one bit, holding it close to his chest. But the bar she held still had his full attention, as she waved it under her nose and inhaled. “Smells pretty good kid,” Maggie told him, “you sure you don’t want to trade?”
He took another step, still wary. “Hey, I won’t hurt ya,” she smiled once again, “and I won’t let them hurt you either.” She heard Blye start to protest and shot her a look. “I’m negotiating here,” she snapped. “Ya mind?”
The kid saw his chance, and he took it. He darted in and grabbed the Soya bar, retreating once more...still clutching the driver as he began devouring his stolen prize.
“So much for that idea,” Prash grumbled.
Despite herself, Maggie chuckled. “Sneaky little shit, ain’t ya?” she grinned. “Go get some more food,” she said over her shoulder.
“So he can fool you again?” Blye asked dubiously.
“There’s always some give and take when you’re workin’ out a deal,” she explained, “and the first round went to him. But if he wants anything else, he’s gotta give. So scoot. Do as I tell you.”
Relenting, the Troisième gave Joona a nod, who hurried out the door. “Now what?”
“We wait,” she answered, sitting back on her haunches. “We have nothing he wants right this second...except letting him escape, and I’m guessin’ that’s a hard ‘no’.”
“He won’t survive if he goes back to the streets,” Blye said in dismay.
“Kid’s lasted this long,” Maggie pointed out, “but yeah...long term, it ain’t a good strategy.” The boy followed the conversation with interest but didn’t seem sure about the topic. “So while we’re waiting…” She smiled once more, placing a hand on her chest. “I’m Maggie. What’s your name?”
His brow furrowed. “Come on, I told you my name,” she goaded him. “And that’s Blye, and Prash...and the one getting us more food is Joona. So what’s yours? Only seems fair we know your name, now you know ours.”
He looked at them in confusion, as the hand brandishing the tool drooped a bit. His mouth moved, struggling with unfamiliar activity until finally, he mumbled something.
“Sorry, what was that?” she asked, putting a hand to her ear. “I’m old, kid, gettin’ up there, and I don’t hear so good. Could you say it again?”
He took a deep breath, trying once more. “...Diggs,” he said with a rasp, as if he hadn’t spoken in a very long time.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Diggs,” Maggie beamed at him, as Joona returned with a handful of Soya bars and a glass. “Just in time. Joona, meet Diggs.”
“Hi, Diggs,” he grinned, holding out the provisions he’d brought. “Thought he might be thirsty too, so I got some water.” He looked over at Blye, “Dumped in some electrolytes and minerals while I was at it. Kid’s gonna need it.”
“We have to be careful...as malnourished as he is he’s in real danger of Refeeding Syndrome,” the medic explained.
“Good thinking,” she nodded in approval, reaching for the glass, and taking another bar before turning back towards Diggs. “Uh oh,” she said, half to herself, “I was gonna give these to you, but you’d need both hands. Hmm...what if I give you the glass, and then you give me the tool, and then you get the food as a bonus? I’d be giving you two things, and you’d only have to give me one. How about that?”
His brow furrowed once more as he puzzled out her suggestion. He was certain there had to be a catch somewhere, but was having a hard time finding it. While he mulled over her offer, Maggie scooted a little closer, holding out the cup. “Here, you look thirsty.” She took a sip herself, showing it was safe. “It’s yours if you want it.”
Diggs was still hesitant, so she set it on the floor in front of him, before giving him some room. He spent a few moments eyeing the mug, looking for traps...before crouching down and lifting it to his lips, slurping loudly as he drank. Water dribbled down his chin and chest as he quenched his thirst before finally swiping his arm across his face as he looked at Maggie expectantly.
She held out the Soya bar. “I kept my part of the deal, didn’t I?” the Tinker asked. “So how about we finish it? Straight swap...the tool for the food.” Once again she held out both hands; the empty one palm up, while dangling the bar with the other like a lure. “Come on...I know you want it…” she cooed enticingly.
The Soya had his full attention, and with a reluctant sigh he handed over the Torx driver, snatching the food bar away before she changed her mind. Grinning at her success, she passed the tool back to the others while Diggs chowed down on his meal.
“And that’s a Contract,” she informed him, spitting into her hand and holding it out. “Shake on it?”
He looked at her in confusion. “It’s how you seal a deal...like this,” Maggie explained, spitting into her hand again and extending it out to him.
With a baffled expression, he spit on his own hand...more a spray of crumbs than anything else...and timidly held it out to her. Blye put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, afraid to make a sound for fear she’d jinx the progress the Tinker had made, as Maggie gently clasped his palm with her own.
“Good to meet you, kid,” she smirked.
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2019.12.30 17:12 peanutbuttermuffs [help] My dog started obsessively licking his cone/E-Collar and displaying odd behavior in the middle of the night.
My dog (10 yrs Chow mix) has had a really bad hotspot on his tail. We put him in a cone in October, and during that course of time he injured his eye so we have had to keep the cone on him while it is healing. It’s a very large plastic cone as he is a very “girthy” boy and the largest cone we could find is the only one that would fit his neck. We tried the donut type of cone but he can still get to the tip of his tail. He is taking Apoquil for the hotspots but it is not doing much in the way of getting him off his tail.
The last month or so, every single night at about 3 or 4am, he will start obsessively licking his cone. I mean, aggressively licking it. He will start to breath heavily and buck around while lying on the floor. If I try to gently pull him up to stop him, he will flop around dramatically and pant. He has a pain pill (Gabapentin) and a sedative (trazadone) we were given to dose him when we had a hard time giving him his eye drops. I’ve given him those at night to calm him down but they are now causing him urine retention. We are loosing so much sleep at night and I hate seeing him this uncomfortable. How can I help him and get this weird behavior to stop?
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2019.11.10 20:37 Kyuui013 [OC] 4th METT drop 19-5 "Dancin' with the devil
Jnesy rushed forward firing as he did. Binnington rounded the corner to assist with the remaining trooper, bringing him down with a short-range shot from his cannon. Taking no chances Binnington, used his flame thrower to send waves of fire over the bodies of the Phaeton. Behind Binnington the silhouette of his charge, Dr. Kyuui Asuragi, Sister of the Order, Commanding Officer, 4th Medical Emergency Trauma Team. Of all the times, Jnesy’s brain once again, wondered how that name came to be. Focusing again he slid to a stop near “bins” and slung his weapon, he grabbed the Captain’s gun safed it, then started removing the shattered armor. Kyuui Took three strides before she reached her running speed. Without thinking she used the link calling for a trauma drone, and reinforcements. Once that was accomplished she mentally started to order her assessments and items needed. PALADIN suggested a high dose of Ethanadryl followed by spray coagulant to help bind things while she was bandaged. It concurred with the trauma drone, and even put the team back at triage on notice a high priority case was coming. Nearing the Captain she shouted “MOVE DAMN IT” Both Jnesy and Binnington quickly backed up and moved to cover the Captain, and her. Kyuui slid to a stop then scrambled the last meter. She jammed the needle into the Captain’s neck and administered the Ethanadryl. Once that was done she flipped up the sprayer then sprayed the wound area to cover it as best as she could. Tapping the right button a UV light came on and she waved it over the area to “cure” the coagulant. She intentionally slowed at this point as she carefully wrapped the area in plastiwrap. Completing that she used medical sheers to start cutting the armor away from the wounded area by way of its attachment straps. Looking up she saw Jnesy was ready for the drone. Binnington, clearly affected by the loss of his friend and his Captain, had flipped his visor up and promptly vomited, thankfully away from everyone else. She focused back on the captain, completing a full-body check for other wounds, finding none outside of the gunshots she readied for the drone.
Jnesy yanked the litter out of the drone then bolted to the Captain. Setting it down next to her he helped Kyuui move her into it. He waited as she quickly strapped the captain in. Though he was well versed in doing so, he knew that when she was on it like this it was best to just help when she asked. Following her lead, he grabbed his end of the litter and helped her slide it into the drone. She secured it hit the button then spun around and moved to Binnington, Standing up he took up watch to make sure they would be safe.
Chester “Bins” Binnington. Flipped his visor up just in time. He Heaved once then it all came out, leaning over he vomited twice more. He fumbled around trying to hit the release on his helmet but couldn’t find it in his combat gloves. He tried to slow his breathing but struggled to do so, between the rush of combat, and the outright fear and rage of having his friend, and his captain hurt he was a jumbled mess. Glancing over at Doc “A” she seemed to be flailing all over the place but he knew she was moving with a practiced precision of a highly trained specialist. Instinctively he knew that HAT was gone. Based on the lack of shots fired from behind him as well as the fact that neither the Doc, nor ‘mini’ had gone after him, and he didn’t come down. Once he recovered he’d go get him and bring him to the rear. Hector was more than a friend really, he was pretty much his brother in all but genetics. they lived in the same town, went to the same schools. Hector had been a winger on the academy team, while had been the goalie. They had gone to Bootcamp together and had originally intended to both be heavy troopers. A sprained ankle and a rifle score in the top 1% had changed Hector’s path to one of a combat marksman. He could have gone one to be a Spec ops Sniper but had wanted to remain with his buddy. Once they had reached their unit they had quickly bonded as a pair. Captain James frequently took them with her on patrols during the invasion she had designated the two of them to be part of the doc’s support. Thinking on that caused him to lose his lunch, again. He felt someone grab his head then pull his helmet off. Even though she was behind a mirrored visor, he swore he could see her eyes. Bright blue diamonds staring directly at him as if he was the only thing in the world to her at the moment.
She hit the emergency releases on Binningtons helmet tossed it to the side then grabbed him and looked directly at him. He had vomit all over his face, but otherwise, he was as good as he could be at the moment. She pulled out a water bottle, then held it up. “Close your eyes let me get that off your face. He did so, allowing her to clean his face and eyes, which hid the tears he had been crying. Once she was done she dialed up a small amount of sedative and injected him via the port on his arm. “Bins” focus, I know it's tough, but focus look at me, slow deep breaths, in, then out. Come on, you can do it, Kyuui said. “The captain has a good chance to make it, ok, I got her on the fast ride to the CMST. They’re some of the best in the field ok. She’s still in the golden hour, ok, and that is good.”
Bins looked at her again, slowed his breathing down and nodded. He did his best to focus, he knew she was right and believed that she had done everything short of operating on her, and he also knew, if she thought she had to, she would have without hesitation. “Hats gone, isn’t he doc?” He looked at her again, the reflection of the pain on his face made him realize just how much it hurt, he knew of course, but he had to ask anyway. The pain on ‘bins’ face made her blink back her own tears for a moment. “Yeah ‘bins’ he is, never knew what hit him, he was gone before he realized it. Kyuui had already marked him for retrieval; Jnesy was putting him in a bag already. “We’ll get him home ‘bins’ and you will too, got it, you have to now, you’ve got a job to do, you know he wouldn’t put up with you not going all out.”
Binnington chuckled for a moment. “Nah, he sure as fuck wouldn’t doc, the slick bastard would shoot me in the back if I didn’t.” Standing tall he looked around for his helmet. “Hey doc, can I get some of that water to clean the helmet, it kinda went everywhere.” Doc ‘A’ gave him a bottle then a wipe as well. He nodded his thanks then knelt down to clean his helmet. A small metallic glint caught his eye and he looked at it. In the midst of all the captains’ armor were her two gold belly chains, the single bit of femininity she allowed herself. He scooped them up then slid them into one of the pouches on his belt. He cleaned out his helmet as they regrouped and waited for reinforcements.
Kelvin Akita looked up from his surgery when the alarm went off. Noting the fact it was an ‘automated’ alarm he blinked. holy fuck she’s starting to do it subconsciously One of the ‘benefits’ of the PALADIN Neural interface was the fact that they could eventually do just that, send commands and instructions to the central dispatch computer without actually having to ‘think’. His CO and friend was the only one with the interface directly linked to her nervous system. The other doctors had the Modified version which relied on external connections via sensors. Dr. G Allen, head of medical FEDS Ship Tempest used his with the shipboard version of PALADIN. The last set was with Dr. Hanson, she wore hers in the rear working with the second triage team. Hers relied solely on vocal commands and eye movement trackers. Back on Fairline, they were testing more. For now, out here on the front, three was it. Why she had volunteered for it he still didn’t understand. He did know that the risks were high, they openly said if it went wrong, it would turn her into a “sleeper” In spite of that she insisted on it being her, going so far as to demand it from Med command. He focused again on the task at hand, he had cases to take care of.
Bins’ looked around then walked to Jnesy “gimme a hand here.” He put the helmet on, adjusted it till he was happy then spoke up “Ok”.
Jnesy snapped in the locks then hit him in the chest. “Bins, focus bud, you’re all we got, we gotta get back in the game. We’ve done everything we can here. Help is on the way and we’ll be busy as fuck. You good, or do you need a rotate?” Bins looked at him then flipped him off. The giant metal finger transposed against the dark brown armor he wore made him smile. “That’s it bud, let’s get it.” The two men made ready with Kyuui.
A minute later the sound of a hover tank, echoed through the streets as a Root Hog tank moved through. Behind it was a trio of Aardvark class hovercraft. One Armored assault craft, followed by the ambulance. As well as a personnel carrier. The doors on the back of the medical tank opened along with the personnel carrier. One of the nurses came out to check on everyone as the runners loaded the body into the tank with the other cases they already had. A squad of Marines disembarked from the carrier. They were lead by a young 2nd Lieutenant from the Captains' unit.
“ Second Lieutenant Hope reporting in, we’re taking over for the captain.” Kyuui sized the young officer up and nodded.
“Good, Bins is still good to go, he’s staying, Jnesy will tell you what we need and where we’re going, Lieutenant. It's gonna be high speed I expect you to stay on top of shit, got it?” Kyuui said as she looked at them. The Lieutenant nodded then saluted. She returned the salute then got back to restocking. “Bins, Zee, I’m on the go, the first case is close, I’m not losing more, get on it.’ She moved toward her case without waiting for anyone to follow.
Second lieutenant Robert Hope looked at the Doctor as she walked away, snapping out of his daze he looked at his squad. “Move, stay with her.” he scrambled to do the same, Jnesy grabbed his arm.
“Stay with me LT. Keep bins and two guns with her, you and the rest stay with me, She’ll be fine, She’s not the boss for nothing. Tune your second radio into alpha nine gamma, and monitor, that's her channel for the squad. If she asks for something, you do it, I don’t care what it is. Rule one for her Guardians if she asks she gets it no matter the cost to you. The Chain of command here is her. Her. and her. If it's not her, it's me. Yes I know you’re an LT but out here on the line, she doesn’t care, I don’t give a fuck and we get shit done. If you’re not good with that, I suggest you get on the horn and have them send someone else. Now, let’s ride” Jnesy racked his rifle then said something on the coms net. Lieutenant Hop programmed his radio, coming into the conversation midway.
“Bins, you’re left flank forward, I’m rear, you FNG’s one with bin, the rest with me, She’s got 15 cases marked we’re not letting one die. End. of.”
Bins cued up “Nightmare three three Bravo” is all he said as he flicked his gear into combat mode. He already knew to not chase after the doctor but moved with haste to not let her get too far out.
The rest of the Marines fell into place the best they could and followed. Jnesy jogged up near his charge and flicked into his channel with her “Aight you, I’m outta gum, pissed off and hungry. Don’t shit on the LT to hard, he’s just rotated into the 9th from a REMF.” Silence was all he got in return.
She started toward the next three cases, they were bunched up which could be good. She didn’t bother to acknowledge Jnesy as she moved, He knew what she wanted. She scoped out the area near the cases and made her move. Sliding next to them the first shots of the firefight blew right by her.
Bins registered the shots from her side, lobbed a couple of potshots in the direction they came from then found some cover. Lt. Hope and his team moved into cover as well.
Kyuui looked at the trio of grunts assessing who was the worst off. She went to work on a young grenadier. Sizing his wounds up she injected him with the standard cocktail of drugs. He had three different wounds, his shoulder, and arm as his thigh. Prioritizing the shoulder injury she inspected it. The round went through cleanly at least. She bandaged the front, stuffing some sterile gauze into the wound on both sides. Wrapping the plastiwrap around his shoulder she visually checked the wound on the upper arm. The bone was visible through the wound along with muscle. She sprayed it with a decontaminant, flicked her selector to a stronger pain killer, injected the area then looked at the Marine. “I’m going to take care of this, its gonna hurt like hell. You ready?” The Marine nodded. She moved her arms down a bit to move the bone just enough to not be exposed. Once it was she grabbed the plastiwrap, wrapping the wound enough to protect it then grabbed a small splint then wrapped that into the bandages. She looked at his thigh wound, sprayed it then wrapped it. Moving to the second Marine she stopped. “Wait, did it…”
Corporal Yui Martinez nodded. “Can you believe it, right through his ass into mine,” She moved her arm to allow the doctor to take care of it. She watched as the Doctor moved swiftly, but carefully taking care of the wound. She giggled when the doctor handed her the round “uh, thanks doc?”
Kyuui nodded “Next time, be faster, slacker” she replied. Corporal Martinez Laughed. Kyuui patted her on the shoulder then moved to the last case. The sergeant’s armor was shredded on one side, clearly from either a mine or a grenade. He was covered from shoulder to boot in small shrapnel wounds. She sprayed them to protect him. “Ok you’re gonna get a ride here in a moment, none of ya will be out of action for too long. We’re out of here” She looked up over the cover they were in and realized they were right in the middle of a firefight. Bins was covering them from the side of a building with the rest of the marines in and around the building. Jnesy was protecting her as well as the Marines. “Or we’re just gonna chill out here, I guess.” The Trio of Marines laughed. Martinez moved to see if she could help. The Sergeant grabbed several grenades and tried to find the location of the enemy. Spotting one he tossed the grenade close. The explosion forced everyone’s head down for a second. Jnesy took the moment to move to get a better shot. The Phaeton chased him with rounds until he got into cover. Kyuui checked her scanner then clicked up the mic. “Second floor of the building, not sure but I think one is up that way.”
‘Bins’ looked at where the doc said then moved out from cover, kicked his heat retainers on and started letting loose. He spotted two and let rip on them, one of them disintegrated, struck by a 20mm round in the upper body. The second took two shots at him both of which him dead center. Shrugging the shots off he fired again vaporizing the head of the Phaeton. He bucked twice to the left from rounds coming the opposite direction. Letting loose with his Flame thrower he moved again to find cover. Second Lieutenant Hope, spotting the Phaeton he pulled the trigger back, the three-round burst hit it in the leg. Dropping it to the ground. One of the new Marines, underhanded a grenade into the area. It bounced off a wall and rolled near the Phaeton soldier. A moment later it disappeared in a cloud of dust, body parts and noise.
Lieutenant Hope looked around again Jeebus fuck she’s as crazy as they say she is he thought as he watched the Doctor covering the 3 wounded Marines. “RIGHT SIDE RIGHT SIDE!! Blasted his ears, instinctively he rolled left and checked the right. Four Ravagers filled his visor, and all four knew they were close to blood. He pulled the trigger letting loose a burst. None of the rounds hit, but it was enough to get them to pause then focus on him. It was a huge risk he knew but one of the things his former D.I. said to him at the Officer candidate school stuck with him. “Risk yourself, before you risk your Marines. They will see this, and they will respond, by risking themselves with you. You can’t ask for more loyalty than that. Any man, or woman, would risk their lives knowing that the Officer asking them to do so, was right there leading the way.” A grim smile crossed his face as the quote echoed in his mind. Gunnery Sergeant Able would be proud. “GET SOME YOU MOTHER FUCKERS" he shouted at the ravagers. Instinctively bracing his rifle against his arm he shot at one hitting it three times. While not enough to stop it, it slowed down and that made the situation better for him. A grenade flew over His shoulder bounced off a wall then landed next to the one he had shot. It ceased to exist in a cloud of dust. Firing again he moved forward, pushing the advantage, another calculated risk, it would again focus them on him.
Corporal Martinez grabbed a second grenade and tried to sort out where the LT was going. Once she was certain she could she would send another grenade that way. She held up the grenade, Arthuwlez yanked the pin. She flicked it up and over the LT then shouted: “GET THE FUCK DOWN!”
Lt Hope moved another step forward before he heard the shout, but dove for the dirt when he did. Above him a grenade sailed past, detonating above the remaining Ravagers. He felt a burning sensation in his left buttock then bounced his head off the dirt. He knew exactly what that was. Rolling away from the Ravagers he brought up his rifle and took three potshots. None of the Ravagers managed to get closer to him as they were riddled by shrapnel and rifle shots. He moved up to his knees then looked around “CLEAR” he called over the radio.
“Angel One-Alpha, Angel One-Alpha. Cutlass three five.” Echoed in her ears as she looked around for her next case. Spotting it she bolted straight for them ducking around the rubble and trying to make it harder to shoot her. “ZEE answer that shit, I got people to take care of,” she said as she went to work on the Marine. She started her scan noting the minor injuries then stopped when she spotted the blood coming from his ears. That along with the vacant stare shifted her scan to look for more “internal injury” signs. “System, Mednet, Case internal injuries, consistent with blast trauma,” she said. PALADIN brought up a list of steps to take and she followed them. Once done with that list she marked the Marine for a manual pick up as soon as possible. She patted him twice on the shoulder which got no response. She called up a sedative and injected them. “Patient shows signs of blast trauma, shock, and possible internal injuries. Non-responsive to stimuli, recommend immediate escalation of care to shipboard level to accommodate possible injuries.”
“DOC, DOC GET THE FUCK DOWN” Jnesy shouted at her as she worked, her head, shoulders and part of her shield were a giant “SHOOT ME” sign. He scrambled to move toward her as the rest of the group, including the wounded were doing the same. Unbeknownst to any of them, they had become the center of the battle. The Phaeton it seemed wanted to inflict more shock damage by releasing a mass of Ravagers, at least 30 of them were barreling straight toward them. He had to get her, and the rest of them out of here asap. “SABRE TWO THREE request immediate support and exfil. 7 Mobile, 2 Walking wounded and 2 immobile. We’re about to be dog chow, get us some god damn cover!”
Hearing the shouting Kyuui ducked then listened. The report sent chills down her spine. She looked around and saw the rest of the team and the wounded gathering near a house that was mostly intact. She grabbed the Marine she had with her slung him up and over her right shoulder then started moving to Jnesy. She deposited the wounded Marine with the others then went back and helped Corporal Martinez and the Sergeant. As they moved a large blast erupted from a short-range mortar shot, The three of them were buffeted by the blast knocking the Sergeant to his knees. She grabbed him the best she could and started to drag him toward the relative safety. Corporal Martinez did her best to ensure they were safe as they made their way to the house.
"Angel One-Alpha, Cutlass three-five, be advised help is on the way. ETA....." the radio call was drowned out by static" Kyuui looked at Jnesy and Binnington "Get ready, it's about to get stupid. Kyuui said over the group channel."
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2019.11.07 23:17 kellyfacee Heartbroken
I adopted Rory a little over a year ago from an area shelter. A 3-5 year old German Shepherd/Chow. A few days after adopting him I learned he was dog aggressive, but was committed for the long haul. Ever since, we’ve been working with a trainer in group and private classes to be a little more manageable on a leash and in stressful situations. We’ve even mastered muzzle training. My first Reactive Rover, my first real dog, and my first “older” dog vs. puppy.
In late September, Rory started moving a little stiffly in his hind end. Early in October he spent the day at the vet for sedated xrays which rendered the diagnosis of hip dysplasia. Weight loss, water treadmill, and increased walks were added to our routine. A few days ago, he completely stopped using his left hind. Back to the vet for another exam and another X-ray as the vet suspected now an issue with the knee. How I wish it was his knee. An aggressive form of bone cancer has taken over his hip and likely will spread through his pelvis. The prognosis is less than a month. I’m absolutely devastated.
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2019.09.23 21:44 Peanutpegleg2 Mochi chowing down at home after his sedated tooth trim at the vet. Bonus footage of Miso contemplating bread robbery...
2019.09.21 23:26 stroke_bot promajority myel standouts
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2019.08.03 17:08 jmr106 [Breeds] Is a mixed breed the best best to avoid health problems and get an even temperament?
I'm not in any way affiliated with this site, but I came across https://www.yourpurebredpuppy.com/dogbreeds/
last night and I was reading through the "breed reviews" found in the menu area. I guess I never really considered that stuff when choosing a dog.
Stuff like how Golden Retrievers are a bit too trusting as a guard dog, how they might smell stronger because of their fur type and such.
For my previous dog that was Lab/Chow (and possibly Border Collie), for instance...some of the traits explain her behavior. She was always watchful and watching to see what we were doing as it related to her (or so she thought it did). I could go and get keys from on top of the dresser (for our basement door) and the dog knew that I was about to go do something outside like mow the lawn. If I took something outside to the car's back seat and put it in and then came back in the house, she always suspected that she was going somewhere. She was generally aggressive towards other dogs/animals. If you corrected her for something, she would fuss you out with barking, growling and showing teeth sometimes, but otherwise was a nice and quiet dog that loved petting and belly rubs. Put her down at nearly 13 to avoid letting the cancer win, which seems quite incredible and on the higher end of things since most sites quote 10-14 as the max average life span. So we feel fortunate to have had her that long. However, other things like if someone dropped something on the floor and went to pick it up, she would get snappy towards them as if guarding whatever object fell down. Other things like her vet visits where she was notorious to pant like a freight train and be super nervous while waiting and had "muzzle" and "sedate" in bold and highlighted writing on her vet records. I've been reading that, "The problem is that many Chows distrust strangers and many Chows are resistant to being told what to do. Put those together and you can see that Chows might not like being hoisted onto a grooming table and told to stand still by someone they don't know." That's why I chose to clip her myself and never tried to take her to a groomer.
I've been looking at maybe some type of Lab Mix for the next dog. I need a dog that would be protective if someone came into the house. Our Lab/Chow, for instance...she would be in the window looking at what people were doing up and down the street. If a vehicle stopped many houses down the road, she would be in the door barking. If someone came up to the house, she would be trying to tear the door down. She even barked to alert us when the mailman was going by. She seemed understanding of the elderly family member in our household and would run over to the bed and "brace" without training to help her up from the bed. At the same time, she bit that elderly family in two different instances because she tried to pick up some food that was dropped on the floor and she was doing something else another time. So Chows seem to be pretty temperamental.
Is a Lab Mix our best bet? Need a semi-active dog. We like to go to the lake or park sometimes and walk, but a daily walk just isn't going to happen. We have a decent sized back yard about 150 feet long and about 50-75 feet wide that is fenced. So lots of room to throw the ball and such. At the same time, I'm second-guessing myself of wanting to choose only one specific breed because a lot of rescue dogs out there need help and don't have homes.
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2019.07.27 05:30 Rocknocker Happy Eid-ster.
That reminds me of a story…
A short digression: I live in the Middle East (aka, ‘ME’) where it was just the Eid al-Fitr or the "Festival of Breaking the Fast", is a religious holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide that marks the end of Ramadan, the Islamic holy month of fasting, where there’s animal sacrifice (sheep, goat, camel, the fatted Subway BMT, etc.), great distribution of food and other munificence and general festivities), and there was much rejoicing.
The national oil company for whom I used to toil holds an annual soiree whereupon it distributes a vanishingly small part of its petroleum-generated largesse in a thinly disguised gesture to curry favor from the local populace (as they are a monopoly here (the company, not the locals), one wonders at their genuine though ulterior motives), the odd-lot assortment of governmental ministries and whomever else in the general vicinity possess olfactory functions beyond that of say, oh, a brick.
It’s a free-for-all, in several ways more than one: it’s a huge Bar-Be-Que (Braai, Goat-grab, the slightly extraterrestrial ritual of igniting flame pits and searing mammal flesh), done Middle Eastern style; with heaps, mounds and piles of complimentary chow.
How could that be a problem?
Well, it’s mostly ‘free for all’. Free victuals. Just show up, possess a pulse and the ability to hold both a place in a queue and the free fine dining china (courtesy of the vast industrial petroleum refining and chemical industry), you get complimentary charred mammal protein (truth be told, we also gak a chicken or two as well), as well as selections from the galaxies of salads available (hummus, tabouli, something from outside the orbit of Ceti Alpha VI…), along with the inevitable bread and salt.
Free. A gimmee. A Mulligan. On the house. A cuffo. An Annie Oakley.
Notice anything missing?
You have to pay for drinks (no alcohol here) but easily and cheaply available are bottled water, juices of most every description, coffee, tea and milk...milk…(“Industrial Milk”. You know that UHT stuff? “Ultra High Temperature” processed? This stuff would survive at ground-zero during a low-yield thermonuclear test) are accessible for a very nominal charge. Like US$0.26/liter of nicely iced water. Ditto the juices (grape, orange, mango, guava, kiwi, bumalo, durian…
Don’t get me started on durians…).
Great spiky brownish-green football-sized looking sort of things that most right-thinking people would take a baseball bat to if they ever saw one creeping out of one’s garden; that have the pleasant silky-smooth taste of creamy-caramel but the overwhelming aroma of dog farts and stale domestic beer garnished with rotting onions and swamp gas.
One of the reasons for the bounty of such available comestibles is the diversity of nationalities here in the ME.
Oh, yeah. It’s a veritable cornucopia of humanity; that is: all the fruits and nuts and none of the flowers.
A short list includes varying populations of:
Those of Arabian descent (Well, whadda think?)
And so on and so on and so forth.
Yeah, in any convention burg, you get a pretty mixed bag.
So, to accommodate varying ethnicities, predilections and preferences, we offer a large variety of solidly middle-of-the-road comestibles and potables.
Remember I said this was going to be short? Fat chance.
Well, through no fault of my own, it was the operations group of the large, national oil company’s turn to help host (i.e., reduce the number of casualties from the inevitable Cincinnatian crush from the spectre of free food) this little get together.
Since I’m seriously senior and the team leader of the largest bunch of knot- and knuckle heads, umm, err…engineers and physicists (both petro- and geo-type), in the company, I’m elected to help sort out the “who does what to whom and where” at the park where this little shindig is held.
As I said, it’s an annual event; and everyone knows this is the one time of year to get out in force, drag along everyone from the kiddies to the pensioners, and indulge in a frenzy of free-feeding that would make a lamprey look like a piker.
It’s slated to kick off around 0900, but we had people showing up at 0500. Unfortunately, since I’m a Native Texan (by way of Baja Canada) I had to arrive at 0300 to supervise the loading and firing of the grills.
I mean, c’mon, it just wouldn’t be right otherwise.
Well, the grills are grilling, the caterers catering and everything, for once, is going at what passes for normal in these parts. We didn’t do a lot of beef (Indians consider that taboo), no pork (obviously…but, I mean, WTF, what’s a bar-be-queue without baby back ribs?), no fish, but huge quantities of lamb, goat, sheep, mutton, ewe, and camel. Filet-de-hump is an especially prized cut hereabouts.
No. I’m not kidding.
Camel jerky is great. Just makes you so thirsty 2 days later…
Since everyone who said they were going to show for once did, I sorted out the assignments and strolled around, puffing on my standard 75 ring Oscuro hand-rolled, checking this and adjusting that. Most everything was going swimmingly.
Well, almost everything.
The drinks section was utter chaos. No, chaos was better organized than this. A tsunami would be better organized. Look up the word “pandemonium” in the dictionary, there’d be no picture of this, just a definition of the word; that’s how dictionaries work…
Seems folks thought that since everything else was free (and do not ask me why drinks were not included…I don’t make the rules, I just sort of grimace and either acquiesce or, as more usual, find a workable end-around), the drinks just HAD to be as well.
Most easily, you will never find a more wretched hive of cheapskates and the miserly.
Remember I mentioned the nationality makeup of the crowd? How here we have representatives of over 6 million different nations? Each with their own language (dialect, vernacular, guttural utterances)?
They were all going off the rails together.
“It’s nice to have everyone together now and again, isn’t it?” observes Bob.
“Shut up, Bob.”
It ran the gamut from:
Extraordinary entitlement whore-ish-ness (“I’m a local, and therefore, by dint of where I was born, should get everything free”) to,
Special pleading (“My baby needs water in this harsh climate”…well, toots, you brought it here…) to,
False bravado (“Just give me my drink, you chapped bastard”), to,
Outright deceit (“He said I could have a case of free durian juice.” Almost got me on that one.), to,
The all time favorite: pity (“I don’t have any money. Baksheesh. Baksheesh…”).
A trying time. Time to rend one’s soul. A time to reap, a time to sew.
Me? I couldn’t give a toss.
Having observed the mayhem, determining that it neither put a nickel in my pocket or took one out, and realizing that I was, irresponsibly, given a position of authority I shut down the whole affair.
“Right! That’s it! No more drinks! Finished! Finito! Khalas! Das ende! Geëindigd! Yari na! Законченный! Selesai!”
Sometimes it really pays to be multilingual.
I can order a beer in 47 different languages.
And get out of jail in 14.
Told you it’s useful.
Remember way back when I said this was going to be a ‘short’ communiqué? Well, beyond “fat chance’, there was that seemingly incomprehensible and inconsequential reference to “bread and salt”?
Bread. (Insert your favorite variety.) +
Salt. NaCl. Sodium Chloride. +
See what happens when one doesn’t pay attention?
A short while later, after metabolic catabolism kicks in, I have a multitude of very sedate, very quiet, very penitent individuals very quietly inquiring if they may purchase one form or another of our rather liquid consumables.
The cheque we cut to Oxfam that year was the largest in history (that’s where the fluid funds went, later, to my dismay, I was told).
Well, if you told me that, I could have leaned more heavily on the jerk camel.
If only I use my powers for good instead of evil…
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2019.07.07 17:10 Eliott_Dresher This is how I became a missing person and why no one will ever find me (Part 1)
Author's note: I published a couple pieces of this story under a different title, so don't be surprised if some of it seems familiar. Sad to say I got bogged down with work and it's only recently with the 4th of July Weekend I managed to work the monster from scratch into something half-decent. Instead of planning for seven parts there are three long ones (reverse GRRM style haha), two of which I've actually written. I'll the post the next one tomorrow and hope to find time to put out the last one before long.
Speaking from personal experience, I think that it’s very hard to think about missing persons without getting sad or even depressed, and I would argue that’s why almost everyone chooses to not think about them or forget about them as soon as possible. People are good, really good, at forgetting things. It’s probably a self-defense mechanism like how you pass out if your sense of smell or sense of pain gets overloaded, but to put it simply, people have and always will be programmed to care about themselves first. Yeah, I said it, people are selfish. You can boil it down even further to this: People suck. Funny how I’m posting this as a scary story and that’s going to be the hardest part for all the keyboard optimists out there to believe…
I am a missing person, and no one’s ever going to find me.
First off, though, you can call me Jenny, that’s what everybody called me while I was in high school before I left, and no, I’m not an orphan. Both of my parents are still healthy and alive last I checked, which was only a couple months ago. It took them three years to finally stop looking for me. The missing person posters were another level of depressing to look at, especially since I haven’t looked like that picture they used for them in a good while. I keep one of the posters with me wherever I go.
Beneath the picture of my face the posters read my over-the-top name plus some details.
HAVE YOU SEEN ME?
GENEVIEVE SHALE “JENNY”
17 YEARS OLD
LAST SEEN 11/05/15 AT 4:45 AM
LAST SEEN WEARING LEVI JEANS, A GRAY SWEATSHIRT WITH NO VISIBLE LOGO, BLACK NIKE TENNIS SHOES WITH A WHITE NIKE LOGO, AND A SILVER NECKLACE WITH THE PEACE SYMBOL.
LAST SEEN BY HER PLACE OF RESIDENCE (ADDRESS BELOW) AND SURROUNDING FOREST
PLEASE CONTACT EDWARD OR DIANA SHALE IF FOUND OR WITH INFORMATION LEADING TO HER RETURN. CONTACT DETAILS AND REWARD INFORMATION BELOW.
The picture they posted all over town was me smiling at the camera after I had blown out the candles on my cake. The numbers 1 and 7 were pink and white wax on top of a chocolate cake, and I was wearing a purple party hat that should have stopped started to feel dumb to me after I turned 12, but I was a late bloomer, you could say. I had brown hair that crept down my neck and a round forehead. I had blue eyes back then, and that’s only part of the reason no one recognizes me now. I was born on Halloween, so in the picture I was wearing a…well…I was dressed like Velma from Scooby Doo with an orange turtle neck sweater. I didn’t wear glasses, so it was a pretty decent full shot of my face. The reason it hurt to look at those posters when I came back to town to check on my parents was because even though the posters only showed a blow-up of my face, the full picture I remember was me in between both of my best friends, Nissa and Jasmine. Nissa was dressed up as Daphne from Scooby-Doo with an orange wig and purple headband and Jasmine was Scooby, complete with dog ears and a dog collar she bought at a pet store. Every bit of it was stupid, and that was probably one of the best days of my life right up until we made the decision to go to the orphanage that night.
God…that was a good time. Me and my two nerdy friends dressing up like characters from a show we were way too old for. I’ll tell you what happened to Nissa and Jasmine when it comes time for me to do that, but as monstrous as I feel for checking on my parents and being unable to tell them that I’m alive, seeing my two friends cropped out of that picture and knowing they’re not around made me want to vomit. They’re not dead, at least I don’t think they are.
It was Nissa’s idea to actually go to the orphanage. Can’t blame her. It was more a tradition or coming-of-age ritual in our town to head to that creepy place. I’d only lived there for a year so Jasmine and Nissa brought me up to speed on the old building rotting on the edge of town.
The Borden-Sykes Orphan House was built in 1870. The American Civil War had left a large majority of the younger population of our town without fathers or older brothers. The town fought for the South, so think of that what you will, but the one objective fact I can tell you is that so many of the teenage and adult male population of the town went off to fight and got killed, the town very nearly dried up. There weren’t any plantation around so no one owned more than one or two slaves and those that were there either got jobs from the people who used to own them or they moved away north or out west. I'm not bringing that up to downplay slavery-I'm just pointing out that the people there were poor. Too poor to build something as impressive as the orphanage. The orphanage was named after two families that lost all their male members in the war, but nobody really knew who arranged it. As for who paid to build it, well, I’ve got a theory, but I know for sure that kind of money did not come from anyone in a dirt poor town.
It was Halloween and my birthday, so using the trick or treating as an alibi to go out that night. Fortunately Halloween was on a Saturday that year, so I had my parents’ permission to stay at Nissa’s house for the three of us to hang out. We were three giant nerdy friends, so we did actually go trick-or-treating in my neighborhood beforehand, and we each brought a bag of candy to eat while we explored. I was chowing down on a tiny bag of sour patch as we left my neighborhood behind and started the three mile walk to Jasmine’s house. With no cars or bikes and in those ridiculous costumes, we made it in forty minutes. We had a solid couple hours before we were supposed to be at Nissa’s house, so if mine or Jasmine’s parents called Nissa’s house, they would still think we were out trick or treating. We walked fairly fast to another Jasmine’s house where we had stashed our changes of clothes beforehand. Jasmine was an only child and her parents were out of town that weekend. We changed quickly and within five minutes we were driving in Jasmine’s car to the run down part of town. I sat in the back as Jasmine and Nissa reviewed the rest of our plan.
“We get in, we get out,” Nissa spoke and Jasmine nodded behind the wheel. “Thirty minutes there, thirty minutes back. We need another half hour to walk from Jasmine’s house to mine, so we need to change back into those costumes so my parents don’t know what’s up and your parents don’t know what’s up.”
“My parents gave up on me years ago,” Jasmine said sarcastically. “They just left me alone to do drugs all weekend.”
Nissa and I laughed. The truth was I’d been dreading going to the orphanage. It was creepy and no one really knew the history behind it so the added layer of mystery made people create urban legends about it that changed with the times. In the 60’s teenagers supposedly flocked to it because they believed it was impossible to get pregnant there because of the “curse” or so they called it. I’d believed that one until I actually sat through history class and learned everyone used birth control back then anyway. I had confronted Nissa for making me believe that one and they still made fun of me for being so gullible. The building itself was condemned, which I learned from Google. Not renovated since the 1890s and its shut its doors permanently in 1940-something when an unidentified arsonist tried to burn it down while over twenty children were still inside. The 1970s had rumors of devil cults, but there was no proof, not even any fake images of people in capes or masks like I expected. For some reason the blatant absence of proof made me want to believe there was something messed up back then, but I couldn’t make myself believe it after falling hook, line, and sinker for the story about the 60s.... My internet sleuthing brought up nothing in the 80s or the 90s except constant delays in the city tearing it down, always promising to do it in the next five years. That had gone on for over thirty years, and every now and again it made the news about how the new city council promised the thing would be gone forever before they reached the ends of their terms…
“So…guys….” I spoke up in the back seat for the first time since we had gotten off the highway into the backroads with nothing but trees on either side of the car. “Is any of it actually true?”
I expected them to mess with me or string me along for another ridiculous story, but to my surprise, they sounded too tired to do that.
“No.” Jasmine yawned. “Nothing other than the fact that it’s condemned and a death trap. The wood’s rotted so much it’s impossible to walk on the second or third levels. My older brother almost fell through the floor when he and his friends tried going up the stairs. I was there and it was crazy.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Se-“ Another yawn interrupted her. “Seven. Seven years ago.”
There was noticeable pause in the car before Nissa spoke up.
“Jazz, do you want me to drive the rest of the way or back to town? You sound like you’re running on fumes.”
“Shut up,” Jasmine responded, shaking her head. “My car, my adventure.”
“We’re here to scare the shit out Jenny on her birthday, so it’s her adventure.”
“Yeah,” I agreed “It’s my adventure, so lay off the drugs you meddling kids.”
We all laughed at my Scooby-Doo reference, none of us ever doing any drugs besides testing a bit of weed from time to time. Not that it makes a difference anymore to any of us, but going out to this abandoned building was about the most hardcore thing any of us did. Yet other than Jasmine’s folks, none of our parents really trusted us. I had a facebook and twitter that I didn’t use because my parents forced me to give them my username and password-they were logged on to those accounts more often than I was. I didn’t delete them because I didn’t want them thinking I had some other social media I was trying to hide from them. I also knew my mom had our cell phone provider send her and my dad copies of all my text messages and location history, so I gave my phone to another nerd acquaintance who was also trick-or-treating and wasn’t up for an adventure to the orphanage. Nissa had done the same, so that way if either of our parents tried to track us by our phones they’d see nothing out of the usual unless they stalked us while we were supposed to be trick-or-treating, which to be fair, I imagine they wished they had done looking back… Having overprotective parents taught you how to plan little rebellions like this. Jasmine was the only one with a phone in case we did need one.
“Alright birthday girl, tell me this.” Jasmine asked in a stupid spooky voice and pointed at the endless trees passing us by. “Would you like to walk home through this in the dark? That would be sure an adventure.”
We got the orphanage as the sunlight was poured through the bare tree branches. We thought we’d run into some urbex fans that sometimes frequented the orphanage or some students our age who had similar ideas, but that night, there was no one else. Weeds had overgrown the space in front of the structure, and it looked like someone had torn out the saplings a community service center had tried planting in the front, leaving a bunch of blotchy holes out front.
The building itself was miserable looking and it must have taken a curse to hold that dilapidated wooden structure together into the modern era. Whoever had arranged to have the place built had truly paid top dollar, and perhaps the most frightening thing was the idea that this place had lasted almost a hundred and fifty years and had not collapsed on its own, even when someone had tried to burn it down.
From top to bottom there were three level with four windows on each floor. About seventy feet up the black tiled roof had clearly bleached white after decades of the sun bearing down on it. Its paint had chipped or fallen away a long time ago, and on the outside there were almost as many boards missing from outer walls as the place still actually had. Debris and broken glass littered the grass as the base of the stairs leading up to the double doors out front, one of which was missing. It was too dark to see inside from where Jasmine parked so we started to walk when I noticed Jasmine was still standing by her car.
“What’s up?” I asked. “Not coming?”
“No.” Jasmine yawned again. “I need to nap. I didn’t sleep last night and I hate to admit it, but driving back with no sleep in the dark would be too bold even for me.”
“You can sleep on the way back,” Nissa protested. “Me or Jenny can drive while you take it easy.”
“Not gonna happen,” Jasmine said firmly. “No one drives my brother’s old car but me. He made me promise him that no matter what before he left for college, and he
raised me more than our parents did. No secrets between us, and we always kept our promises to each other. I’d take a bullet for that guy. Same goes for either of you.”
“We had to break Jenny out of Alcatraz to get here tonight!” Nissa describing my living situation as a prison hurt me more than they probably did Jasmine, but I kept silent. “Don’t back out now.”
Jasmine pointed at the sun sinking sun which we could only glimpse through the trees.
“No time to argue,” she said calmly. “We’ve got twenty minutes before we need to be back on the road to keep your little bank heist schedule. Like you said, get in, get out. I’ll be here waiting.”
“I hate you,” Nissa said, grinning and shaking her head.
Jasmine shrugged and smiled before she got back into the vehicle and rolled her seat back. She tossed me her cell phone before closing the car door. We heard the car door lock and for some reason that surprised me. The car lights shone onto our backs as Nissa and I turned towards the orphanage.
“Why’d she lock the car,” I asked quietly, even though there was no way Jasmine could hear us.
“I gotta spell it out for you Jenn just like everything else? Scary forest miles from town, by herself out here, sleeping in an unlocked car. Sounds like a genius fucking plan to me.” Her words were so pointed it surprised me.
“Sorry I asked.” I let my head dip as we walked before Nissa put her hand on my shoulder.
“Hey…my bad. I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I just spent a ton of time trying to figure out how we’d make this happen and Jasmine goes and…” She laughed dryly. “And actually thought about your wellbeing on your birthday. Do you still want to this?”
“Do you still want to check this place out. I know me and Jasmine have been on your ass about not seeing it, and everyone says you have to see it otherwise you’re not a real small town teenager if you haven’t been to everyplace. We could go now and, I don’t know, start a movie at my place. Get there early and give my folks some peace of mind. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I smiled at how sincere she was being. Nissa was neurotic and sometimes acted obsessive, but here she was offering to throw the whole plan away to make me feel better. I considered her offer very seriously, and it hit me how closely I valued my friends Nissa and Jasmine. Jasmine’s speech about being completely loyal to her brother and us made me feel like I had something to live up to. I had grown up an only child but my parents had lost a little boy before I was born. My brother’s name was Logan, and he died when a drunk driver hit him right in front of the school as he was crossing the street. When I was growing up, my parents drove me to and from school every day. They refused to let me walk to the bus stop or get me a car until I left the house, and they drove me everywhere. And probably would insist on driving me to prom and graduation too no matter how much I kicked and screamed and pleaded for them not to, and when I thought about that, I got angry and I made my decision to go along with the plan.
“I’m sure,” I told Nissa. “I want to be able to say I went one place without my jail wardens knowing.”
Nissa smiled and looked relieved.
“Let’s pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed. I looked away from Nissa and had to stare up at the tall orphanage. I involuntarily swallowed because of how big it looked up close. Suddenly my chest was very tight and I paused.
“Get in, get out,” I whispered to myself.
One of the double doors was missing and Nissa pulled out a flashlight she had bought at Wal-Mart. She handed me another one and we walked into the foyer. Some light bled in through the windows but without the flashlights everything would have been for nothing. The floor was covered with glass shards and mangled metal looking thing that looked like chandelier before it must have fallen from the roof. A double staircase went up to a walkway directly in front of us, and it actually reminded me of the first room in Luigi’s Mansion. For some reason thinking about videogame ghosts didn’t liven my mood. I saw holes in the stairs where it looked like something heavy had broken through the steps. That must have been where Jasmine’s brother had fallen through trying to get to the second level. Floorboards creaked and bits of glass broke beneath our slow and methodical footsteps.
With the chandelier behind us, Nissa led me through a door in between the two staircases. I heard the movements we were makings over wood and glass, the sounds of our breathing, and absolutely nothing else. It’s strange how acclimated people get to ambient sounds in the background of our lives. Air conditioners, fans, televisions. This was the first time I’d been in a place that made no sound on its own.
The door was literally missing and no animals or birds had made shelter of this place. Not even bugs. Why did that of all things scare me?
I flashed my light at the corners of hallway Nissa was leading us through. No cobwebs, no flies, not even ants. The house was falling apart, but didn’t all those cracks mean that things could get in and live here? There was some graffiti in the corridor, and even before I read it I had a brief sense of ease knowing that at least other people had been here before. The words on the wall were red spray paint that had most peeled away, but I could make out a few words.
HEIL SATAN MOFOS!!!
I laughed nervously. It was stupid but it felt good to see. Nissa nodded at me approvingly, perhaps worried that this environment would be too much for me. Whatever she wanted to show me up ahead was probably pretty cool.
I took another look at the red letters and my eye caught some smaller letters that were carved into the wall and almost obscured by the peeling paint.
SATAN IS IN THE BASEMENT
WAITING FOR YOU
A chill ran down my back. I’d done enough research on this place to know there was no basement. I took at closer look at the letters and arrived wondered if the carving or the graffiti had come first. Had whoever made the graffiti written over the message…or had whoever carved the letters in the wall meant it as a reply to the graffiti? The idea that someone was carving messages like that into walls not long after someone had spray-painted on them was much worse to me.
“Jenny come on,” Nissa whispered.
“Why are you whispering,” I whispered back.
She pointed at the graffiti.
“So Satan doesn’t hear us.”
“Right.” I didn’t laugh this time and followed her through another door. This led into a barracks-looking room with beds lining the two sides of the windowless room. Our flashlights revealed all the actual mattresses were gone and only the bedframes remained, most of which were knocked over and out of line. It felt cramped and tight in there.
“No privacy, huh?” I felt myself somehow relating to the kids who lived here.
“Nope. This way. We’re almost out of time, hurry, there’s one other thing. We can come back another day, I guess.”
I didn’t imagine that happening with my parents but instead of contradicting her, I had a question.
“Is there a basement?”
“Never seen one.”
“Did you see what was carved into the wall. That…message?”
“Yeah a few times, but it’s full of crap. If there is a basement there’s no way to get to it, unless you’re Satan. What would be the point?”
I knew from my research that no one had ever actually died in the orphanage, not even when someone had tried it to burn it down. My mind ran through a bunch of non-related pieces of information. I thought about the complete absence of any photo evidence of the rumors about the orphanage from the past 50 years. For some reason that made me go back to the story that people could not get pregnant and connected that to the fact that there were no bugs anywhere to be found in decrepit place. Surely one was just a story and the other was just me not looking in the right places, so why would it feel like those two things were interrelated?
Nissa shone her light over her watch and walked quickly, the boards creaking ever louder.
“Shit. Ten minutes left. Let’s go.”
I followed half-heartedly.
“Hey, uh, Nissa…”
She turned on a heel.
“Dumb question. Why aren’t there bugs or animals or even cobwebs? Am I missing something?”
She opened her mouth to say something but a sound made both of our hearts drop.
A terrible crack and SNAP
erupted beneath our feet, and the entire floor wobbled beneath us in an unstable way that in about half a second made me seasick. Every other floor board fell away and complete darkness showed itself beneath us through the remaining floorboards. The sound of wood hitting something hard below like cement or asphalt briefly registered, but I was too stunned to
Nissa’s horrified look of disbelief probably reflected my own. The floor had moved as though it was suspended from something, but that couldn’t be because there were no chains or anything holding it up to the ceiling. I tried to take a step backwards but a whining creak made me put my foot back where it was. The whole thing reminded me of those movie scenes where people are standing on thin ice, except in this case it was a rickety floor that sounded like it had no foundation and was finally ready to snap.
“Slowly,” Nissa said almost too quiet for me to hear. “Go slowly.”
I was too scared to speak. I was holding my breath because I was afraid breathing too hard would cause the boards to give away beneath me. I locked me knees and almost dropped my flashlight as the floor squeaked terribly with every small movement I made.
“Jenny!” Her voice was a pointed whisper. “Jenny! We need to leave. Now!”
Yeah, I thought blankly, time to go. I supposed my birthday had finally come to end and for a moment where I was probably delirious, I imagined falling through the floor had not been on Nissa’s schedule for my birthday.
“I can’t move.” I was almost crying. I closed my eyes tight and started shaking.
“Jenny, snap out of it. The door’s behind you. I can’t go if you don’t go first.” I opened my eyes to see her leaning forward and I saw her face turn pale as even that small movement made the terrible sound of a board cracking away beneath her. She moved quick as her footing gave way before she managed to catch herself. I looked away because I was so afraid she would fall and I’d watch her fall, but then I heard her voice speak to me in a completely different tone.
“Oh shit.” She spoke in a tone that sounded embarrassed. Then she spoke in an exhausted but calm voice. “Jenny. Stop panicking. Look.”
I cracked my eyes open and saw her annoyed face.
“I found the basement,” she said as though she was telling the punch line of a joke. She hoped into on the of holes on the floor and I let out a shrill scream before I saw her stop falling.
She was standing in a hole no more than two feet deep. I just breathed in and out as I wrapped my mind around the fact that neither of us had thought to actually look how far down the drop was. The concrete foundation had pipes and metals intertwining beneath us.
“Okay,” I said, swallowing and wiping away the tears on my cheeks that filled me with deep shame. “Fun’s over.”
I shone my flashlight beneath me and took a casual glance below to see piping and padding…and a book.
I paused for a moment, noting again how there were no spiders or bugs or anything even beneath the floor where I could clearly see dirt had mixed with the foundation. The wood was clearly rotting but where the termites?
My gaze found the book again between two rusted pipes. It was brown and if I had no flashlight it would have been hard to see. I grabbed it as if drawn to it, lifting it out and taking a closer look. It was leather bound and smelled of old paper. Beaten up pretty good too. I started flipping through the pages looking for nothing in general.
“What’s that?” Nissa approached me casually and sighed in annoyance when she saw what I was holding.
“Is that a book?” She asked accusingly. “No. No no no. Put that back. Right fucking now. I’ve read too many stories about cursed books.”
“So…have I…” I replied distantly, unable to take my attention off of it. The handwriting on the first few pages was pretty terrible and I couldn’t make out any clear thoughts. I kept looking through more pages because it looked like whoever was writing was getting better with time and-
“Jenny, put it back!” She put her arm on my shoulder and I blinked three times as if I had been awoken from a lucid dream.
I tossed the book back into the floor and shivered involuntarily. I stood up and immediately felt like I had a cold or something. Pressure worked into my chest and pain erupted in the back of my jaw. I put one hand against my head and shot the other out, having lost my balance all of a sudden.
“Jenny?” Nissa asked breathlessly “Jenny, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel good.” I felt like invisible wind was blowing right through me, and out of nowhere I knelt over and dry heaved for a few seconds. I wanted to stand back up and wipe my mouth but I couldn’t. Instead, my legs gave out from underneath me and I crumpled onto the wooden floor which creaked as though mocking me at the weight it could suddenly support. I was short of breath, and Nissa was freaking out, digging the phone out of my pocket and telling me she’d get help. I heard run out the door to call 9-1-1. The pressure was building in my chest and I felt like I would explode.
Alone in that room, all I could hear was the sound of my own shallow breathing, but then I saw something was standing over me. It was too dark and my fallen flashlight only illuminated the bottom half of it. I saw a black piece of fabric partially concealing a set of pale human looking legs. I didn’t see any shoes and black pointed toenails reflected in the light as though they had been polished. I couldn’t move but I could vaguely move my eyes upward. I saw the top half a woman wearing a black dress and this thing knelt down beside me. It had slender hands and black fingernails that looked…wrong somehow but then I saw its face.
It had eyes that looked like they were covered in pitch. Not black pupils but just…black. The face was long and strangely pretty but way too pale to be a living person. Onyx hair trailed down its sides and back, way too much hair for a normal person to walk around with unless she carried it. I blinked in astonishment when I realized that…that the stitched garment this thing was wearing clearly stemmed from the hair growing out of its own head. As my mind tried to make sense of whatever the hell I was seeing, my eyes returned to the face. She was smiling at me with me with her forehead crinkled and it dawned on me that she felt sorry for me for some reason.
She was holding the book. With one of her hands with the sharp black fingernails she lifted up one of my arms and placed the book in my grasp. Holding that book made the feeling of being crushed by a giant rock go away a little, so when I could suddenly move again I held onto it like it was a life raft. I passed out before I could get another look at the…thing that had given it to me.
I don’t remember the ambulance ride to the hospital. But they did tell me they had to sedate me before I let them take the book from me. In my sedated dreams I could see nothing but I heard Nissa and Jasmine’s voices saying that phrase from before coming from a dozen different directions.
Get in, get out. Get in, get out. Get in, get out. Part 2
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Jeanne S. Chow's research works Boston Children's ...