Walter white license plate | | All things not Death Grips

Warning: lot to write and get off my chest; no therapist or counselor. Sorry in advance and thanks for reading.
Im posting from a throwaway account but i have been a long time lurker of this sub. I have a lot of respect for you gentlemen coming forward on your personal accounts with your experiences. I can relate to a lot of you so i felt i could come here and post as well because I am not in a good state of mind and hope someone might understand also. Trying to be tough as most men my age try to be (35). I hate to cry but I really feel like it right now. I think internally I am but dont have it in me to let it out. I'm really stressed out for a lot of reasons and I have no friends or outlets.
I am the most successful loser. Got a good job that makes about 95k a year. I have a loving wife and an awesome 9 yr old son. They make me happy and life worth living but without them I would probably quit life.
We recently moved cross country about 9 months ago and relocated from Oregon to New York. It was my wife's idea. In oregon she was very unhappy. She is black (I'm hispanic/white) and she felt targeted a lot. It wasn't unwarranted feeling the way she did. She had a few really shitty experiences in Portland, of all places, and they prompted her to find a more inclusive environment to live that was affordable. My son was not immune to those issues either who is not exactly special needs but is on the spectrum and has adhd.
When my wife told me she wanted to leave Oregon and go to New York I fought it hard. My parents lived in Oregon but that relationship between my wife and parents has forever been strained. To put it lightly, they hate each other. But because i have only my parents and no friends I didn't want to leave. Her happiness and depression really started to take a toll though. She wouldn't leave the house, take my son outside to play, wouldnt get a job, help keep the house clean, keep herself clean. She just was this empty person trying to play house wife. It was really difficult. So after a couple years of fighting it out I caved because she became soo unhealthy and I just wanted her to be happy. At the right moment an opporunity came up with my job for us to move to the city in new york we were looking at and i immediately jumped on it. But now I feel like the roles have switched. I fucking hate it here.
The city we moved to just sucks. It's a lot of petty shit why I don't like it but I'm not happy here because it's not conducive to our lifestyle. While the neighborhoods are cool the people in them are just... shitty. We live in a really nice neighborhood, very sought after, but the neighborly attitudes here are very fake. The reason I'm posting this (what pushed me over the edge i guess) is because I just pissed off my neighbor. It wasn't intentional. My son and I had a water balloon fight and he got mad we left some of the broken balloons in his front yard. I meant to pick them up last night I just forgot. He got mad because he picked them up himself. It just seemed petty when this guy is in his backyard sawing wood at 9 o clock at night or texting me at inconvenient times to move my car so he can get to his trailer. Just to clarify, his trailer is in the driveway that he made an agreement with the owner we rent from. Guy even asked me to watch his kids one day so he could go help his friend with something. Never have I treated this person with disrespect and always stepped up to the neighborly plate to bat a Home run but I'm the dick. The wives are friends too, sort of, but I just don't know. Its just fake. Aside the fakeness I do plan to go over and apologize again and bring a peace offering. I just don't know what. At the same time I'm very "fuck you, I know your game. Your suit and smile can't hide the truth." Probably a petty way to think but feeling nhiilistically cute about it. Reading what I just wrote about how I feel it just seems immature and childish. Thinking about it from his perspective I do get it. I understand his grievance. But it wasn't intentional. I just don't feel like going out of my way to do any more favors. Might be why I can't make any friends.
I have no friends to speak of right now. Most are dead, I have lost contact with, or have parted ways due to differences. I'm alone. And naturally I miss the ones I had. There are 2 In particular i wish i could talk to right now. Both died in a car wreck. Seperate car wrecks different years. Their loss was and still is very difficult for me. I think about them all the time. We would always check up on each other. Most of my closest friends are dead and at 35 I have no more left to lose. My close friends who are still alive aren't really, all there. I call them from time to time to check up on them but they don't call me to check up on me. I dont know if that's just life getting in the way but it feels one sided. Now that I live in New York, I don't know if it's in my head or if my west coast personality getsbin the way but my personality does not jive well here. I grew up surfing and skating and find myself calling people kooks under my breath soo often. Tried finding friends playing hockey but it hasn't quite panned out over 2 seasons thus far. Really trying to make friends here but I just can't to save my life. I'm an introvert, so that doesn't help. Socially awkward at times. The punk scene here sucks hard dick and bubblegum so I have no outlet to go to punk shows and hope to meet people. Been to the skate park, it is better than nothing but its not that good. Obviiusly no surfing here, too far inland. It just sucks.
My job, as great as it has been to me, helping me move to new york, is an endless amount of failures. Every day is a struggle to meet the objectives given to me and usually they are the same objectives but it plays out differently every day based on volume. I'm in management and it is soo difficult to meet those objectives. I manage a good 80 people all with different personalities and work ethics. It's like herding cats and I hate it. I've been told on numerous occasions im a good boss from my supervisors and crew but I'm not necessarily loved. Recently was just written up by my immediate boss for not adhering to instructions and failure to notify. A situation from 3 months ago that occurred while I was on vacation during my regular scheduled day off that my supervisor failed to notify me on. I found out from our maintenance department after the fact, not from my supervisors, what had happened and i notified my superiors. I was held accountable because even though I was on vacation, the responsibility fell on me and therefore my supervisors failure was my failure. Pretty shitty. But Corporate rules. My supervisor can't be held accountable either because they claim they notified me and called me on my personal phone, so says my immediate boss. When I proved to my boss I received no call from my supervisor by showing printed out phone records, showed my time keeping records that they input for my vacation, I was told it didn't matter. "I could have deleted the phone records from my phone". My job truly sucks. There is no winning. Only extreme ownership that could potentially cost you your job. Kind of wild to think about.
We can't buy a house right now. I know I'm not the only one in this boat but I'm feeling it especially hard because I owned a home in Oregon but sold it to move to New York. Inflation, the move, and other miscellaneous expenses have eaten away our savings and what little we got from the sale of our home. The value of the home went up when we bought it but we spent an arm and a leg fixing it before we sold it. We made money, just wasnt a lot or what we hoped for. We didn't intend to sell either it's just the timing really screwed us with trying to move here. In hindsight we should have waited a little longer to move. We might have been in a better position.
I miss my parents. Besides my wife and son they were all I had left. I cannot understate how moving to New York created a hole in me being so far away from them. It sucks. I talk to them once a week.
I try to focus on the good things. My wife and son are happy. They have friends, are less stressed, don't feel targeted and are comfortable. My wife just got a job and is working on losing weight. My son is doing wonderful in school. Way better than he did in Oregon because New York Schools are amazing. I guess that's all that matters. I would give up anything for them.
And this is my struggle right now. Trying to keep that PMA. But I'm not happy and I can't hide it right now. I've been grumpy for a while now. I thought spring would change that because the sun was coming out but that may have just made it worse.
I'm angry and bummed. I'm tired and stressed. I feel I need a vacation from everyone and everything. I just want a friend to talk to, my friend. And I want to cry but I'm stopping myself because I have to Man up because there is no other option.

[←Chapter 48] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 50→]
As soon as he placed the tip of the blade against the stone, a crawling dread swept over. He held it there for a moment, trying to tabulate the functions of the tool, but nothing but raw guesswork remained to him. He heard the footsteps of the children and their minders vanishing up the stairs.
“You ready?” he asked Innie.
“No. But don't let that stop you,” she said, wide amber eyes fixed on the door.
There was nothing for it - Efrain steadied his hand and pressed the black blade into the stone. It was a relatively simple application of magic, almost instinctual, to activate the tool. He projected down into the chisel end, where stiff filaments would pierce the wall and sink deep within. This defeated the function of the chisel, but he already suspected that some of the features were more ornamental.
The next part was slightly more complicated, angling the blade up and down until he’d pressed the furled tips to the smooth surface. They sank in as well, leaving him holding the blade spine nearly parallel to the wall. Slowly, taking painstaking care not to twist the metal, he drew it down.
The stone split apart and drew back, guided through the furls and out, revealing a thin line in the stone. There was a silent thrill that fought against the dread as the hairline crack grew larger and larger. Finally, he reached the floor, and drew the knife out of the stone with minimal resistance.
With one last look at his partner, he placed both hands on the door and began to push.
There was a grinding squeal as the heavy stones slid open and out. Past, there was a thick darkness that blotted out most of the detail, even with the magelight active. Efrain took two steps and raised it high, its luminosity increasing as it rose. Even so, it flickered as the smothering cold poured out of the chamber, casting wavering shadows on the surrounding stone walls.
A moment of grim satisfaction availed him - he had surmised correctly about the room being some sort of important tomb. Large alcoves with carved-relief tombs marched off into the dark, twinned pillars marking each and every one. A vaulted ceiling spanned the passage, faded mosaics depicting unknown scenes of times past.
In fact, it would’ve been a place that Efrain could easily see himself working in. Painstakingly brushing off the faded paint and chipped stone, recreating the designs in book after book. Days and nights of note taking, trying to piece together the story of what this place was and why it was here. Unfortunately, the beauty of that vision was marred by the hostile darkness that wrapped around the vault.
He and Innie cautiously crept forward, the light above his head pushing back the heavy shadows. Her fur stood on end, amber eyes inspecting every little pittance, every corner past where something might hide. Efrain was much the same way, expecting something to detach itself from the stone and give chase.
Yet, there was nothing, no movement, no sudden gleam of hostile eyes. Just the stone, and the ever deepening cold.
Finally, they reached the depths of the tomb, a handful of steps that lead down into a wider room. In the muddy light he cast, he saw something large and round, sitting slumped over what looked to be an altar of some kind. There was no aggression that he could feel, no stirring of the thing in response to their presence, just the cold that poured off it.
As he entered through the arched steps, he realised that the thing was making sounds. A wet, gurgling noise, that was rather uncomfortably reminiscent of the creatures from the fog. The sound of a throat that had been crushed and twisted by the weight of its deformities. Still, it lacked the rage that came with the things that had crashed on the church roof or swarmed its outer wall.
Efrain took another few steps and stood before the round mass, slightly taller than he was, peering closely as its features came into relief. When he realised what it was, he felt a stomach that no longer existed turn over on itself. There were pale bumps and ridges where there might’ve been anatomical landmarks at one point. Various malformed limbs jutted out and merged back into the structure, some recognizable, some alien. The flesh shuddered and writhed as he neared it, groans and gurgles exiting various gashes and holes in its surface.
What was far, far worse, however, was what he discovered when he looked within.
Innie must’ve discovered it at the same time, issuing a violent wail of disgust and grief. Efrain staggered away, trying to steady himself on one of the pillars as his vision swam. The self-hatred, the sorrow, the unbelievable nauseating pain that issued from the thing was enough to make him wish he never came here. Its magic was even worse - an indescribable warped abomination that should’ve never been borne into existence.
It took a herculean effort to remain standing, fighting the physically impossible urge to sink to his knees and vomit. Innie was slamming herself into a pillar in a mad horror, and his gaze slid to the knife in his hand. The terrible revelation was like an explosion in his mind.
He could almost see the priest raising the knife, almost seeing the gears of thought turning in his head. If it could join and separate stone, what else could it pull asunder? A terrible demon, removed from a child, think of the praise, think of the tithes, think of the reaffirmation of the faith!
Innie lay on the ground, curled and shivering, her wails fallen into a grim silence, punctuated only by quiet sobs. Efrain stood there, feeling the knife slip to clatter on the ground. The thing twitched and issued another moan as it undulated from its base to top.
Somewhere in the corners of his mind he wondered if somewhere in the mass the priest was still alive. It would be a ghastly fate, and a deserved one, to be trapped in this fleshy prison. But what had happened to the wisp matriarch’s power? Why was there a ghost appearing to Aya and granting her access to the flames?
Shrinking back into himself, he huddled by the wall - more than anything, he wanted to be away from here. He wanted to be in his isolated little castle in a far-away mountain. He wanted a cup of tea, and a good book, and to forget such horrible things could exist in this world.
But alas, he was here, he had made the choice to come here, and it made the choice to open the door.
It’s not fair, he thought, numbly, why must it be me?
Innie had stopped sobbing, merely lying there in a terrible stillness. Not dead, nor was she injured beyond superficiality, rather trapped in the depths of paralytic grief. But it would soon fade, Efrain knew for it was happening to him. All that stupefaction, swept away by rage.
There were footsteps, far behind him, a set of them, hurrying down the tomb corridor. Distant faces, barely distinguishable from the darkness, emerged past the arches, still some distance away. Their eyes were straining, faces scrunched up as they tried to pierce the gloom, not yet realising the dire horror that awaited them.
Maybe it was in a spirit of mercy that Efrain rose, and turned toward the cat. More likely, it was the rage that was boiling just under the surface, only held by the thinnest membrane of numbness. The stones under Innie were beginning to be cast in a red light as her fur began to glow, despite the damping of her magic.
“What is that?” called one of the paladins from down the hall.
Efrain said nothing as he faced the horrible fusion of the priest and girl, twitching and moaning. He didn’t need to.
Flames rose into the air, exhaustion no longer a barrier as Innie rose to her height. The cat was melting, dribbling down on the floor as the true form of the wisp mother bled through in a pillar of yellow-red light. The temperature of the room shot up from icy to lukewarm in an instant as flames began to crawl across the stone and reached for the abomination.
The paladins had reached the threshold, thrusting their charges behind them as they gazed upon the scene. They were reaching for their swords, even as the flames grew in heat and intensity. The mass did not attempt to lash rather bellowed as the fire licked, shuddering so violently Efrain thought it might come apart. It coiled and twitched as the flames rose up its side, the smell of burning flesh filling the room.
Efrain didn’t even look at it, merely fixing his stare on the church insignia, emblazoned on the plate of the paladins. The screams rose to a fever pitch, met by a furious roaring and crackling of the ever-growing blaze. There was one last desperate burst of coldness that rolled over him, dimming the firelight for a moment, and turning the paladin’s pale.
Then, as if a floodgate was opened, his magic was no longer suppressed, and the fires roared to new heights. The thing had been submerged in a pillar of red and yellow flames, leaping up almost to the tall ceiling of the room. In the back of Efrain’s mind, he realised it wasn’t wise that the fire would eat the air up so deep in the earth. He did nothing.
He simply stood there, staring at the paladins without a word.
“Efrain,” croaked Innie.
He turned to see the charred remains slumping to the floor. In its centre, no longer bound, floated a thin ring of yellow blue flame. The fragment shed little bright rivulets like downy feathers, soft sparks fading into Innie’s blaze.
The rage drove Efrain forward, knowing what was about to happen and what he was about to do. No rational impulse was going to stop him now. Innie was in lockstep with him as he knelt down before the remains, the flames parting as he reached in. The paladins were screaming something as he closed his hand around the ring, and felt his world come to life.
The fire was no longer just fire, it was light itself, so blindingly bright and hot that stones around them began to glow. Efrain felt something immense move into him, a wall of molten power moving enough momentum to sweep him away. The traces of the wisp matriarch entered the man and the cat, and in that moment they were its avatar.
He rose, and the blue-yellow blaze rose with him, fanning over the whole room. At some point, the paladins had grabbed their charges and ran for dear life. Efrain was almost beyond thought as he began to make for the stairs. Every step was a burden, his body rattling uncontrollably with each footfall.
Step-by-step, the pair made their way through the corridor, leaving a sea of flame in their wake. The stone glowed with the rage of their passing, murals utterly destroyed, features beginning to run like wax on the carven reliefs. The only thing untouched by the flames was the black doors, a constant wall in the flames.
As he made his way into the crypts, leaving glass footprints in the sand, he became dimly aware that his robes were beginning to smoke. The magic coursing through him was not meant for him to wield - memory, knowledge, consciousness, all seemed to fall away at its burning touch.
He was being consumed, he and Innie both as they channelled the might of the matriarch, fraction as it was. The burst of magic on the roof was nothing compared to what they now held within themselves. This was a primal power, far grander than anything they’d seen in their long lives.
The passage was beginning to groan and warp, the stone beginning to run as he found his way to the spiral stair. Step-by-step, gripping the walls for purchase, he managed to drag himself up. Every rise was harder than the one that came before it, and soon he was climbing mountains with each step. The stones trembled at his touch, his hands leaving glowing impressions. Soon they too fell into the wall of conflagration that rose behind him.
Still, onward and upward he climbed, higher and higher, past the entrance to the church and to the roof. Night had finally fallen, the sounds of battle beginning as the monsters moved for the final assault. The posted guards screamed warnings of ‘fire!’ ‘fire!’ and shouted prayers as Efrain crawled his way onto the roof. They must’ve thought this some terrible new monster, something immune to their burning brands.
“Leave. Now,” Efrain said, the words slurring as he forced them into the air.
The men were quick to take his advice, but stopped at the tower stairs, staring in horror at the dripping stone. Some looked to the edge, preparing to leap to avoid the frame.
In the midst of the tumult, some bare fraction of Efrain remained to recognize the arbitrary cruelty of their position. He reached out, not to the men but beyond them, and plucked the heat from the stones. With a gust of warm air, they cooled rapidly from molten red to survivable grey. Somewhere, the scholar in Efrain screamed at the indignity of this impossible action.
But this was a magic of fundamentals. It did not stoop to petty things like ‘rules’.
The men, seeing their chance, hurled themselves down the stairs. With their absence, there was nothing left to restrain the power. The flames poured out like water, spilling over the walls of the church, roaring into the sky. Efrain didn’t think about the memory, intent, or emotion, nor any mechanical aspect of the magic - where he wanted, the world burned.
What little left of his mind felt memories of times and places foreign to him roar through his mind. The chaos of his mind lent him very little clarity, sights were smells, sounds were feelings, a cacophony of sensations raced through him faster and faster. In that blurring conundrum, he could see a single, core memory, one that drove all others.
A sunlit place, far away near a golden sea, a funeral, a birth, both at the same time, a tall figure, singing of purpose.
With a final effort, he called the magic to him, hoping to gain some vestige of control. The flames coiled and twisted and condensed, collapsing into an ever-tighter sphere as nature did its work. Heat itself lifted off the melting slates of the roof, absorbed into the mass at his fingertips, leaving a bright ball no bigger than his fist.
The world hung in that moment, the sounds of battle far away, screams of human and monster distant memories. In that moment of brief lucidity, Efrain held a star in his hand.
Then with a tremendous expansion of sound and rage and fire, a blast of hot wind ripped the fog away from the hill and scattered it across the highlands. Men and monsters were sent sprawling, the creatures flying on the icy mist spiralling and falling to earth.
Now the true force of the enemy was revealed - hundreds, perhaps as many as a thousand on the hill beyond. It was only a matter of time before they would rise over the wall, dismantle the barricades, and slaughter the defenders. Men, women, even children who’d worked so hard to defend their homes and lives. All rended to pieces because a little girl had gone for a little hike.
Chains were wrapping around Efrain, white hot and heavy, pulling him to the roof, disintegrating the spells that held him together. He was smoking in truth now and might catch flame at any moment. At his back, felt rather than seen, was an immense twisting whirlwind. It reached up and out into the night, its sudden light blotting out the stars. At its very centre, a consciousness took form within the power, something that wished for nothing more than to reduce all to ash. Efrain turned to the creatures that squirmed and charged below, heedless of the peril above.
He barely even perceived what happened next.
There was one final roar, louder and more violent than anything he’d ever heard of, conceived of, and would likely ever hear again. Branches extended down from the fire, great scouring fingers that swept across the earth, tearing down fruit trees, barely missing the barricades, and spilling down the hill.
The creatures came to meet it, not even turning aside as the heat and light submerged them. Perhaps they couldn’t even understand death anymore, so far gone was their nature. In a heartbeat, they faltered in the tide of flame, falling to the ground as they burned to ash. Dozens of them went in an instant as the power of Wisp Matriarch did its terrible work.
The fingers swept down past the outer wall, two tendrils splitting and crashing back together in a fountain of fire. The great bulk of the monsters were burnt into mere shadows on the cobbles. Efrain’s vision began to darken as his last vestiges of consciousness began to fail. He felt a draining sensation, the last of the magic of the matriarch flowing out into the night.
The heat that ate away at his very being was gone now, leaving behind a scorched emptiness. He fell to the ground, his limbs barely weak enough to prop himself up against the church roof. Innie, once more a cat, dragged herself over to him, curling on his lap as her eyes closed.
Too late, he remembered the curse upon the mask. That must’ve been the draining sensation, now that he’d let so much magic flow through it, it was sucking him dry. He tried vainly for some way to stem the flow, but he was so tired, so weak. Looking down, he noted that the church, although singed, was still more-or-less intact. There was a strange mix of regret and relief at the observation.
His voice, now a drab, thin thing, echoed out, remembering the conversation he’d had with Innie about her future plans of arson.
“Sorry, old friend,” he said, “I think I missed.”
Then Efrain Belacore, Baron of the Frozen Vale, and self-titled ‘Lord of Death’, was no more.
[←Chapter 48] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 50→]

WILLING TO ENTERTAIN BUNDLE PRICES AS WELL ON ALL ITEMS

Microsoft
NEW (Open Box)	Halo 5 Guardians The Master Chief Limited Edition Controller	$175 shipped OBO
NEW (Open Box)	Microsoft First Party Controller (These are the controllers that were out when the Xbox One was available and have the 4-direction dpad)	$35 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	HyperX Charge Play Duo (Comes with charger as well as two batteries, and two sets of battery covers in both black and white)	$30 shipped OBO

Sony
LIKE NEW CiB	Vagrant Story (Black label)	$175 shipped OBO
NEW	Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 1 & 2 Remastered Collector's Edition (Comes with random color full size Birdhouse Skateboard Deck)	$150 shipped OBO

Nintendo
NEW	Game and Watch Super Mario Bros. 35th Anniversary Edition	$50 shipped OBO
NEW	Game and Watch The Legend of Zelda	$50 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Nintendo Switch Lan Adapter (HORI officially licensed - lightly used)	$30 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Project X Zone Limited Edition	$125 shipped OBO
NEW	Project X Zone 2	$175 shipped OBO
NEW	Super Street Fighter IV 3D Edition (First print with lenticular sleeve)	$85 shipped OBO
NEW	The Legend of Zelda: Triforce Heroes	$40 shipped OBO
NEW	The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D (First print -00001)	$120 shipped OBO
NEW	The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask 3D (First print -00000)	$100 shipped OBO
NEW	Shovel Knight (Includes sound track)	$75 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Fantasy Life	$70 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Tomodachi Life	$50 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Code Name: STEAM	$15 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Resident Evil Revelations 3D	$30 shipped OBO
NEW	Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon 3DS	$50 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Little Battlers eXperience	$25 shipped OBO
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NEW	Super Mario 3D Land (3DS Nintendo Classics Version)	$28 shipped OBO
LIKE NEW CiB	Star Fox 64 3D (3DS Nintendo Classics Version)	$30 shipped OBO
NEW	NES Nintendo Switch Joycon Controllers	$125 shipped OBO
NEW	NES Classic Controller	$40 shipped OBO
NEW	SNES Classic (Will come with a clear plastic box protector)	$130 shipped OBO

Misc.
NEW	HyperX Cloud Flight S Wireless Headset (PC/PS4/PS5)	$130 shipped OBO
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I received a traffic ticket where they misspelled my last name, the only information they have on the tickets it’s my name and birthdate on which my last name is spelled incorrectly, no address no license number no plates, what would happen if I don’t address the tickets?

I found a 2006 EX AWD/MT with 256K miles for ~$4K up in NY. I contact the dealer through cars.com, and it's still available. I do a preliminary credit application, and call the dealership on Saturday afternoon to leave a message that I was interested and asked about the condition of the underbody, as I was 3-4 hours away and a personal inspection was difficult.
The holiday weekend passes and I go about my business. This morning I decide to contact the garage that has seen the car a few times over the last year or so for their opinion on it. Without the name of the previous owner or the old license plate number, they can't proceed. But maybe the dealer can help? So I call them at about 8:30am and leave another message explaining the situation. I also ask the question via cars.com email.
So about an hour later I receive an email reply. To complain about my calling outside office hours. And to complain that I asked for information they'd need to go to the office to retrieve. To top it off, they questioned if the car could pass PA inspection after 18 years of upstate NY life, even though it already has a current NY inspection.
So it looks like I may be taking my business elsewhere. Sigh. I was thisclose.

I was offered some of this commercial plate does it look ok? doesnt bubble lights on fire directly white smoke and white ash comes off.

Timestamp + pics

I'm in need of some cash, so unfortunately I'm exiting this hobby for the time being and looking to dump most of my keyboard collection and I will be taking a loss on most of these items. All prices listed include shipping within the (continental) U.S. Local cash is an option for anyone willing to meet in northwest Austin. All switches were lubed by hand with Krytox 205g0. All items were stored in their boxes/packaging and thus were not sitting out collecting dust :). Feel free to PM me for any extra verification or inspection of the products, serious inquiries only. Prices are tentatively negotiable but no lowballs (asking for >10% off) please. Thanks!

Boards:

Parallel Limited Portal65 - grey colorway, built (soldered) and tested with aluminum plate, Durockv2 stabs, and lubed Banana Split switches, includes 40a ring and silicone dampening pad (not installed) - $350 shipped
QwertyKeys QK65 - black/golden colorway, POM plate, hotswap PCB (sealed), board is still sealed in original packaging; includes all original accessories including coiled cable (with end caps still on), black carrying case, gaskets, foam, etc., will ship in original packaging - $215 shipped
ai03 Vega65 - green colorway, aluminum plate, hotswap PCB (sealed); board has never been built (feet are still uninstalled), will ship in original box - $360 shipped
JKeys Gentleman65 Suited Edition - black/golden colorway, POM plate, hotswap PCB (sealed); board has never been built, includes white, black, and rose gold knobs, will ship in original packaging - $275 shipped
Wind Studios Windx65 - black/grey colorway, soldered PCB (sealed), hotswap PCB (sealed), POM plate (for solder PCB), POM plate (for hotswap PCB), carbon plate (for hotswap PCB); board has never been built, comes with plenty of extras for multiple builds/configurations, also includes one extra foam kit, will ship in original packaging - $350 shipped
Graystudio Think 6.5v2 2U - stormtrooper colorway, built with 3rd party hotswap PCB, Durockv2 stabs, POM plate, and lubed BobaU4Ts, also includes 2x BNIB solder PCBs and 1x FR4 plate; board is very lightly (about 1 month) used and has no visible signs of wear), will ship in original box - $350 shipped

Keycaps:

GMK Shoko r2 - Sealed base kit, will ship in original packaging - $215 shipped
GMK Deku - Sealed base kit, spacebars, and novelties, will ship in original packaging- $250

Artisans:

Keycult x Salvun artisans - white on black, black on black, red on black - $80 shipped for WoB and BoB, $85 shipped for RoB

Bonuses (a bunch of low-quality miscellaneous keyboard stuff I'm giving away for free with any purchase, first-come first-serve, one item per item purchased:

A $30 (ABS?) keycap set with blue alphas and pink novelties, lightly used (has some pokemon graphics on some novelties if you're into that)
Lightly used lubed Porcelain Blue switches (55g linear), should be enough for a 75% build as I had them on an old GMMK Pro
Glorious GPBT keycaps (I have the blue gradient and the pink/purple gradient), can't promise that all keycaps will be in the box :)
Razer ABS keycaps (I think they were the stock caps on the Huntsman Elite), will ship in the Razer PBT box cause I swapped them out

Extra Offer:
I'm separating this item cause it's a little different from the other ones. I have a Mr. Suit r2 in the black w/ golden chamfers colorway, gold weight, and a POM plate that I built out with L+F Banana Split switches, GMK Bleached keycaps, and a Keycult x Salvun black on gold artisan. It has been my daily driver for about a year now, and has seen some pretty heavy use, but I have taken very good care of it and it remains in pristine condition (besides a small scuff on the "D" keycap from shipping it across the country a few months ago) with no scratches on the weight or exterior. I don't really want to part with it, but I know they are in high demand, so I am offering it for $1300 shipped. I know this is quite a high price for the board, and I don't really expect it to sell, but if anyone is willing to pay that much it's all theirs.

So backstory, I was rear ended at an intersection by an young lady not paying attention. We pulled over and as we surveyed the damage she began sobbing and admitted she didnt have insurance and was undocumented. Her mom showed up and they both begged me to let me them go and not wait for the police in exchange for paying my damages. After taking pictures of both their cars, license plates, and exchanging numbers, they left and I went ahead and did a police report anyways (establishing she was at fault, its very clear from the damage) then went straight to the collision center for a quote. I sent her the quote and her dad called me saying it was too expensive and he wants to use his own mechanic. He additionally made a baseless accusation that I was trying to sleep with his daughter. Pissed off and not having time to go back and forth, I went ahead and filed a claim through my own insurance for uninsured motorist. Do I have any recourse to getting reimbursed for my deductible and car rental? I have the names and addresses of the people involved as well as their place of employment. Not sure if hiring a lawyer or going to small claims court is worth it. FYI I live in Texas. HELP!

"Come inside, the kids are upstairs." Molly was in a rush, I knew this much from the phone call we had earlier. She had never used me before but heard about me through word of mouth. Which meant that my little side hustle was starting to gain traction.
I am a babysitter for a good neighborhood. There's cars parked outside, lawns are manicured, and the occasional termite company is out doing rounds. I don't know why but I always feel as if there's a termite guy nearby, it's a pretty decent area. Which is a far cry from where I live, on the other side of the tracks, literally. There are train tracks that run through our town and it acts as a divide. But they didn't need to know that. They only needed to see the straightened hair, well spoken, fake braces wearing girl in glasses sporting a skirt that wasn't too short where the neighbors would talk.
Usually I sat down with new clients, have them introduce me to their kids (trust me it helps) in order to make a clear cut line with them that I am in their parent's employ and I am not there to be their bestfriend and will definitely tell on them if they act up or break something. That's not to say I won't play silly games with them, feed them, laugh, tell bed time stories, and age appropriate jokes. But I am nobody's rug.
That's what I usually do, but there wasn't such luxury this time. Molly called me on the phone and she sounded desperate for me to come out. I had concert tickets and told her that they were non-refundable and she suggested that if I could make it in 30 minutes then she'd pay me twice the amount for the tickets and 1.5x my usual rate. I got there in 29 minutes. It would have been sooner but I needed to air myself out if you know what I mean.
Anyways, Molly barely had time to look at my face, let alone get any of my credentials as she was rushing out. Working mom it looked like. Business, by the looks of the pencil skirt and the bag that doubled as a folder. It always amazes me how much trust some people put in others to watch their kids. What if I was a serial killer? Or a deranged lunatic? What if I killed the babysitter on my way here and now I'm in a house, alone, with all her children.
I'm not. But I mean, what if, right?
She didn't seem to think about any of these things, leaving me to mumble goodbyes as she pulled out of the driveway, barely audible as the turbos wound up and she shouted something out the window to the likes of, "It's all on the iPad".
Yeah, no more yellow lined paper stuck with the realtor's magnet on the fridge anymore. It's all digital now.
I closed the door and figured that I better check up on the kids before I did a rundown. God this house was beautiful. I climbed the stairs two at a time and rounded the hall. To be fair, calling it a hall was so basic of me. It was more like a wing. West wing madam. The wing could have fit my living room. I click my heels when I heard a snort come from behind me. I came to face a shaggy dog that was well groomed. The collar was black with an underline of blue. Tiffany's undoubtedly. "Hey," I reached a hand and scratched the mop of top. "Let's go find the kids," I tell the dog as if it could understand me.
There were a series of rooms, most of them closed, but it didn't take me a second guess which one was occupied. The second door on the left, I could hear a kid shouting obscenities about someone being trash. I knocked on that door first.
"Come in," he shouted still loud but slightly less angry.
I opened the door and saw a stereotypical gamer's room. Posters, action figures, a rocking gaming chair on the floor in front of a huge flat screen, and a boy about 9 or 10. He had on his headphones and was sipping a Dr. Pepper.
"Don't they know trash day is on Thursdays?"
He cocked his head and laughed, "If you're looking for my mom I think she's downstairs."
"I'm actually looking for you." And let me tell you something. The audacity of this younger generation. The way he looked at me. Almost made me feel as bad as how I felt when he shrugged his shoulders after he had a good look. "Excuse me," I walk in front of him and blocked the screen. "I'm your new babysitter."
He shrugged. "Cool."
"What's your name?"
"You can read all about it somewhere else."
"What?"
"It's all on the iPad," he told me.
"What's your name," I repeated.
He rolls his eyes and looks at me as if I had asked him a stupid question.
I don't budge.
He whined, "Bobbie. Now come on, the next rounds about to start." he pulled his headphones over his ears. I grabbed the remote to get his attention. "What. Hey come on."
"It's nice to meet you Bobbie. Your mom's going to be away for a few hours and I'll be here until she gets back. Dinner is at 6:00 and I will make snacks at 4:30."
"No cap," he motioned at the tv, "Now can I get back to my game.
"Sure I tell him." Pocketing the remote.
"Hey!"
"Bye," I tell him as I close the door behind me.
So I'm back out in the hallway. And I open a few more doors. Some were locked. Before I get into one that's rather plain. There's a picture hanging up behind the bed, a tv, some lamps and shade. On the bed sits an identical, about 9 or 10, twins it seems. Probably why Bobbie was tired of being asked which one he was.
This one was staring at the blank screen. No video games. And quiet. Now I've babysat my share of kids before, and have seen all sorts. Quiet kids are my favorite. They don't mind board games, or listening. Most often times they only need to be left alone. I don't do too much talking in case they get tired of hearing my voice. And I give them a lot of space. "Hey, sorry about that. I didn't think anyone was in here."
He turned to me slowly, "Hi. Are you the new sitter?"
I nodded, "Yup. And I'm guessing that you're Max. I'll be watching you guys while your mom is away."
"She's probably going to work."
"Yeah, looked like it." I see the iPad in his hands. "Hey. I was looking for that."
"She's always at work." He hands it over. "It's dead. And mom took the charger."
I tried not to sigh. This was not how I wanted things to go. "Well, ok. If you need anything. Let me know. Or else I can come get you at 4:30 for snacks and dinner at 6."
He nodded, "Thanks," and goes back to staring at the screen.
I smile but he doesn't see, so I leave, closing the door softly behind me.
I make my way downstairs, wandering into the kitchen and start taking stock of what's there. Which was practically everything. This kitchen was so chic that I half expected Gordon Ramsay to pop out and tell me that the banana bread I made didn't have a clue if he staked the curved yellow fruit down the middle (it's a bad question mark joke. Listen. I never said I was funny).
Once I made sure that there was food, or ingredients to make food. There wasn't much else to do. The house was spotless. The kids were fine. And even the dog seemed well behaved. So I plopped on the couch, took out my fake braces, and watched tv until about 4:10 before I started slicing apples and celery to go with some peanut butter.
I fed the dog some peanut butter and licked my fingers (not with the hand I fed the dog with), before heading upstairs. Bobbie took the plate no problem but I couldn't find Max for the life of me. I wandered the rooms as the dog followed, still trying to lick my hand. "Max, I've got snacks." I knocked on what seemed like the umpteenth door before I get to a rather solid oak one that seemed custom.
Inside was the biggest home library I had ever seen. And I once dog sat for a pretentious professor from the college nearby. I mean, there was a portrait of said academic holding his dog in 18th century art style hanging over the mantle place of the deep wood cabinets filled with books. And yet this library made the other one look like a neighborhood book exchange birdbox.
"Holy..."
"Cow."
I whirled around to find Max standing in the doorway.
"You shouldn't wander into Father's study."
"I was just looking for you," holding up the plate. He made a face. "What? You don't like PB&C?" I took a stick and crunched on the celery.
"I'm not hungry."
I shrug. "Take it anyway. In case you get hungry."
He grabs the plate from me without much struggle so I decide to leave him be. I went back downstairs and crashed in front of the tv.
When I woke up. It was dark. My mouth was dry and all of the lights were off. The screen saver flashed the logo in blinks, lighting up the room only momentarily. For a second I forgot where I was and felt my heart thumping in my chest. My alarm didn't go off but I don't know why I woke up. Then I heard it again. The sound that must have jerked me awake. A crash. It came from upstairs. I grab my phone and glance down at the numbers. It was 8:10. I had slept through dinner. Shit. Shit. Shit. Here I was trying to make a good first impression and I missed out on dinner.
I wipe what drool was on my face and took to the stairs. Bobbie was probably so immersed in his game that he probably didn't even know he was hungry. Max on the other hand. "Max?" I call out down the hall. All of the doors are shut. I can hear something panting behind me. I turn to see the dog again. Its head is down and there's barely any light touching its face. "Hey come here," I called but it retreated in the opposite direction.
Then I shit me not. I heard a creaking come from behind me. It was the only noise in the house. I couldn't even hear Bobbie yelling in his room. I turn slowly and see one of the doors down the hall is now slightly ajar. It's dark in here. It was dark everywhere. I pressed my hands against the wall searching for a light switch. "Bobbie," I call out. There's no answer. "Hey, sorry about the delay in dinner. I'm going to get to it now."
Why was this place so big? And why could I see the door?
"Bobbie. Max?" I hear the dog tapping its paws behind me. Someone on the other side of the house by now. "Hey, where are you guys?" I peer at the single door that's open and realized why it was so prominent. The hall was dark, but what was inside was even darker. Instead of going toward it, I try the first knob my blind fingers came across. Process of elimination I told myself. It was locked. I tried the next one. Also locked. I finally get to Bobbie's door and I knock. "Bobbie." There's no answer. I press my head against the door and listen. But I don't hear a single sound.
"Where are all the light switches in this place!"
The door that was open before slightly opens again. Creaking, *tic tic tic tic*, with each ungreased turn of the hinge. "Shit. Hey, stop playing around."
There's laughing coming from behind me. It sounded like a little kids. Too young to be either of the boys. Followed by smaller footsteps. It sounded like they were barefoot. "Hey, this isn't funny. I'm going to tell your mother when she gets home." I take out my phone and turn on the flashlight. "When is she coming home?" It was almost 8:30, when I realized that we never set a time.
I hear footsteps again, they were odd. Almost like falling. Like a toddler learning how to run for the first time but the hollow ground sounded as if the person was much heavier. I shine my flashlight over the hall. "Shit." The dog was sitting on all fours in the corner. It was facing the wall. I couldn't even see his face. Every hair on its body completely still.
"Hey," I called out. "Come here." I clicked my tongue. "Come here." The dog didn't move. I couldn't even see it breathing.
Bang! It sounded like thunder behind me. As if someone dropped something on the floor. As if something fell off a shelf or was pushed. I jumped around and shone my light down the west wing. I didn't know if I should have been more or less afraid now that the door was closed. "Bobbie? Max?"
God. I did not want to try the door. And I stood there for a minute before realizing how stupid I must have looked. These were some rich kids playing a joke on you Camilia. I know it. The thought of their smug little faces made me stomp out of my frozen state. I took a couple of strides over and grabbed the handle.
"Fuck!" The thing was hot. "What the hell! You guys could have hurt me," I yelled. I banged on the door. "Open up. You two are in so much trouble." I banged on the door again. "Open the door. Right now!" I could hear something on the other side. It sounded like shuffling. Heavy furniture perhaps. "You guys better not be messing things up in there. I'm not going to clean it. I mean it."
I banged on the door. "I can hear you in there! Now come on!" I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot. "I'm waiting. Your little jokes over now." I banged on the door again.
That's when the door knocked back.
It wouldn't have scared me. I don't think. Except for the fact that I was surprised. And alone in the hall. Without any of the lights on. In a strange house. And before I could say anything else. Another door behind me knocked from the inside. "Shit. Both of you are in on this?" I grabbed the handle to the other door. It was also locked. I banged on it. "Come out right now. Max?"
But then a third door started knocked from down the hall. I felt my throat clump as I tried to swallow. "You guys weren't supposed to have anyone over." The knocking didn't stop. It kept echoing down the hall. "I'm not getting paid for three kids you know?"
Tat-tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat.
I took a single step. And then all of the doors in the hallway suddenly started banging.
I almost tripped as I ran toward the stairs. The doors were thundering on so hard I thought they would crack their hinges. I skipped the stairs, the sounds chasing me as I tried to not fall and break my neck. When I got to the front landing I hear someone say my name.
"Camilia. Are you okay?"
I'm trying not to choke on a lung here as I shot my eyes toward the kitchen. The kids are sitting on the barstools lining the counter. There are two plates in front of them. As if they didn't hear the drumline upstairs.
"Is it dinner time yet," one of them asks quietly.
"Max?"
He smiles.
"Kids. I think there's someone in the house." I rush over to grab each of their hands. Bobbie's wrists are limp but it was Max's hands that shocked me. They were ice cold. I tried to let go but my fingers wouldn't uncurl.
He turns my hand over and says, "There's no one else in this house except us. I promise."
"No," I wasn't about to listen to the kid even if it was his house. "Something is wrong. We have to go. Now." I pick up Bobbie and he doesn't seem to want to move. "Come on Bobbie. Let's go." He looks over at Max who shrugs and get out of his seat.
Bobbie follows as I drag them toward the front door.
"Camilia," Max says.
"What?" He looked scared. Which made me turn toward what he was staring out. At the front door was a tall figure. I couldn't see its face through the glass. It was a stark figure of a man.
"Do you think it's your dad?"
Max shakes his head. I feel him pulling against my arm.
I call out to the man, "Hey! Who is it?" The man doesn't budge. "I'm calling the police." I turn to Bobbie, "Get the phone." He doesn't move. "Hey!" I'm trying to sound as angry as possible. "Get the fuck out of here!" I grabbed a roll of painter's tape from the side table and hurl it across the hall, hitting the glass squarely in the face where the man's head stood blocking the exit. He doesn't even twitch as the glass shakes.
"Come on," I grab their hands and rush to the back. I don't get 10 steps before I feel a scream crawl up my throat making me cough. The man was standing at the sliding door. "Fuck!" I drag the two of them with me towards the kitchen. It's a big place so there had to be a way out to the garage. We push through one of the doors and end up in the laundry room. The next door gets us out into a 3 car garage. My hands find the glowing green opener against the wall and I hear the opener fold seamlessly towards the ceiling.
It started with his feet. Then his ankles. His shins. Then his legs. Light poured in from behind him from the streetlamp. I watched as the door went to his waist before I hit the button for the garage to close, before rushing back inside. We make it into the kitchen to where I still see the tall man standing at the sliding door. A part of me wants to hide in the laundry room but I didn't want to be sandwiched in the middle of the house. So I pull the boys back up the stairs, back to where the doors banged themselves. Taking out my phone as we ascended, and called 911.
"This is the police operator speaking."
"HELLO", I hope they could hear me, "There are several men trying to get inside!"
"Men? Are you in any danger?"
"No! But they have us surrounded!"
"Why don't you go outside?"
My tongue suddenly felt numb in my mouth. Like I didn't know what to do with it. "W-what?"
"It's stranger in the house."
The line went dead as we hit the hallway.
I only took my eyes off of them for a second before Bobbie. Or Max. Runs down the hall. The one or the other already slipping through a door ahead. I look back down the stairs and see that the man is still standing in front of the doorway. I look back up and see the other boy also going through the same door. I take a single step and the doors start pounding on either side. I shut my eyes and turn around. Afraid to go. Almost deciding that these weren't my kids. That I should run away. I take a step backwards mouthing that I was sorry. But I was too scared to go! "Max! Bobbie!" My back foot sticks to the floor. I don't want to look down but the next step sticks too. I point my phone to the ground and see a trail of blood. And just behind me. It's the dog. Split right down the middle, its spine shiny and white, still facing the wall. I could see its organs still pulsing.
I couldn't go back downstairs. I couldn't go the other way. I couldn't leave them here. I couldn't be alone.
I ran after them. The thundering of the doors following me as frames fell to the floor. A vase rolled off a table in the hall. It came crashing at my feet. I run my shoulder through the door, except it wasn't locked. Which caused me to go crashing, sprawling to the floor. Running into the desk in the middle of the room.
The study.
Many of the books were off the shelves. The carpet was torn. There were curtains on fire. It was the first time a saw a window as they burned.
"Camilia!"
I hear one of their voices shouting at me.
"Camilia!" It came again. "Help!"
I get to my feet and start working my hands along the desk. I didn't have to search far. The bookcase directly behind the chair had been swung open. "Camilia!" I wipe the blood from my eyebrow where it had split and step into the tunnel behind the secret passage.
The tunnel started off tall and wide, but as I kept walking in. It got smaller and smaller. I started having to hunch. Several times I decided to turn back. But their voices would echo through, calling for me. Asking for help. "I'm coming!"
"I can't hold on! Camilia! Please!"
The twins cry for help bounced off the walls. I was finally on my hands and knees when I finally see two holes on either side. I'm afraid to look but then one of their voices came through clear as day. "Camilia." It was right in my ear now. I turned to see the boy naked and huddling, hugging his knees at the back of his hole.
"Camilia! Help! I don't want to play this game anymore!"
"Bobbie?"
"Help me!"
I look into the hole, the walls are pressing on my back and there's dust going into my lungs. I can barely turn my shoulder. "Crawl out!"
"I can't!"
"Crawl out! I'm right here." I take out my hand, "Come on!"
"Camilia!" Came a voice from the other side.
I turn my head and see Max in the other hole.
"No!" Bobbie shouts at me. "No!"
"Hold on," I tell him. "I'm going to get both of you out of here."
"No," Bobbie cries. "It's all his fault. He's the one that did it. He's the one that wants to get out!"
"Bobbie, what are you talking about."
"He's the one that put something in your drink so you'd fall asleep!"
"He's lying!" Max's voice rang through. "It's him! I saw him. Always in father's study! Reading those books! Trying out those things he reads. Those curses. Those spells. It's why the shadow men are after him! Camilia! You have to believe me."
I can hear Bobbie crying, "Why are you lying! I don't want to play anymore," he screeches. "I don't want to play!" He sobs. "You said you'd go away if I told you that I didn't want to play anymore."
I don't know what made me do it. It sure wasn't the nauseating squealing tantrum of the boy which made me reach for him first. Maybe it was because I wanted him to shut up. I don't know but I plunged my arm up to my shoulder in to grab his collar.
Instantly I screamed and saw tiny spiders, short thing legs with round white backs crawl over my arms. I shook my arm in the hole, trying to smother them against the walls. That only caused these long brown flat slugs to fall. I saw one land on my hand. It had three distinct tendon-like lines running across its back and was about a half inch long. I pulled my arm out of the hole as I felt it pierce its flat head into the back of my hand. I dropped my phone and heard it crack as the light splintered in the small, suffocating tunnel. But I didn't care as I looked at my hand and saw it burrowing its tiny spearhead below my skin. I grabbed at the wiggling tail still exposed and tried pulling it out.
It was like trying to pull our barbed wire. The spines on its body were facing me. So with each pull they dug deeper inside. I could see blood pooling under my skin, it was starting to turn purple as I tugged on its tail even harder. Until it gave. Popped right off and lay twitching in my hand. The head missing.
I couldn't take it anymore. Really. I had tried my best. I shake my head. "Bobbie. Bobbie. I'm sorry." But it didn't matter. When I looked over at Bobbie. He was covered in it. All of it. Even the spiders.
My jeans started shifting as I tried to wiggle myself out of there. But I hear Max's cry again. "Camilia! Please!"
"No," I whimpered. Shaking. I couldn't reach my hand in there again. But his voice was so scared. More scared than the pain I felt.
I shot my arm inside. Bracing. Waiting for the pain. But there was none. Instead my hands grasped around his collar and I felt his cold clammy skin, and yanked him from the hole. He came without much struggle. His face covered in the soot of it all. "Camilia," he cried. "You picked me. You did it."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I almost didn't.
"Come on," I cried. "We. Have. To go."
The two of us wiggled our way out of there, crawling on our hands and knees, and running when we could. We finally make it back into the study. And the fire is roaring now. One of the books fall from the shelves and when it hit the fire I swear it started screaming. There was so much smoke that I couldn't see. And the door was covered by the flames.
I pointed to the window, the curtains on the floor in ashes. I kick the window. It didn't budge. I coughed. I kicked it again. The glass shook. I kicked it again and my foot went through. Pieces of the glass still hung in the frame, I use the tips of my fingers and pull them back. They fall to the floor cracking until there was a hole big enough for me to get through.
I plunge my head out and take my first breath of fresh air. The moon was full and the sky was clear. I could hear sirens coming off in the distance. When both of my feet were on the roof. I reach my hand back and grab Max from the burning house. Together we run across the clay tiles and climb down the arched tree. The red fire truck comes screeching to a stop as several firemen help us down.
One of them pushes a breathing mask on me, and wraps me up. The neighbors are outside, and the police arrive. I see a familiar car come roaring down the street, screaming to a halt as Molly runs out. Her face is flustered and she's shouting. Pushing through the cops until she reaches me next to the ambulance.
"What happened," she literally screamed at me.
"I'm so sorry," I tell her. "There were these men." I take another breath. "I couldn't do anything! B-but I saved Max! I saved him!"
She looked at the house. It was blazing now in the cool night. "Oh my god. Is Bobbie still in there?" Molly starts to cry. "My baby!"
"Max. But Max." I cough. "Max is okay!"
And she turns to me. I wasn't expecting her to be grateful. But there's anger on her face. "You didn't save my son. But you saved our dog?"
I shake my head. "No. Max. Your other son." I looked around but he was nowhere to be found.
s

"Come inside, the kids are upstairs." Molly was in a rush, I knew this much from the phone call we had earlier. She had never used me before but heard about me through word of mouth. Which meant that my little side hustle was starting to gain traction.
I am a babysitter for a good neighborhood. There's cars parked outside, lawns are manicured, and the occasional termite company is out doing rounds. I don't know why but I always feel as if there's a termite guy nearby, it's a pretty decent area. Which is a far cry from where I live, on the other side of the tracks, literally. There are train tracks that run through our town and it acts as a divide. But they didn't need to know that. They only needed to see the straightened hair, well spoken, fake braces wearing girl in glasses sporting a skirt that wasn't too short where the neighbors would talk.
Usually I sat down with new clients, have them introduce me to their kids (trust me it helps) in order to make a clear cut line with them that I am in their parent's employ and I am not there to be their bestfriend and will definitely tell on them if they act up or break something. That's not to say I won't play silly games with them, feed them, laugh, tell bed time stories, and age appropriate jokes. But I am nobody's rug.
That's what I usually do, but there wasn't such luxury this time. Molly called me on the phone and she sounded desperate for me to come out. I had concert tickets and told her that they were non-refundable and she suggested that if I could make it in 30 minutes then she'd pay me twice the amount for the tickets and 1.5x my usual rate. I got there in 29 minutes. It would have been sooner but I needed to air myself out if you know what I mean.
Anyways, Molly barely had time to look at my face, let alone get any of my credentials as she was rushing out. Working mom it looked like. Business, by the looks of the pencil skirt and the bag that doubled as a folder. It always amazes me how much trust some people put in others to watch their kids. What if I was a serial killer? Or a deranged lunatic? What if I killed the babysitter on my way here and now I'm in a house, alone, with all her children.
I'm not. But I mean, what if, right?
She didn't seem to think about any of these things, leaving me to mumble goodbyes as she pulled out of the driveway, barely audible as the turbos wound up and she shouted something out the window to the likes of, "It's all on the iPad".
Yeah, no more yellow lined paper stuck with the realtor's magnet on the fridge anymore. It's all digital now.
I closed the door and figured that I better check up on the kids before I did a rundown. God this house was beautiful. I climbed the stairs two at a time and rounded the hall. To be fair, calling it a hall was so basic of me. It was more like a wing. West wing madam. The wing could have fit my living room. I click my heels when I heard a snort come from behind me. I came to face a shaggy dog that was well groomed. The collar was black with an underline of blue. Tiffany's undoubtedly. "Hey," I reached a hand and scratched the mop of top. "Let's go find the kids," I tell the dog as if it could understand me.
There were a series of rooms, most of them closed, but it didn't take me a second guess which one was occupied. The second door on the left, I could hear a kid shouting obscenities about someone being trash. I knocked on that door first.
"Come in," he shouted still loud but slightly less angry.
I opened the door and saw a stereotypical gamer's room. Posters, action figures, a rocking gaming chair on the floor in front of a huge flat screen, and a boy about 9 or 10. He had on his headphones and was sipping a Dr. Pepper.
"Don't they know trash day is on Thursdays?"
He cocked his head and laughed, "If you're looking for my mom I think she's downstairs."
"I'm actually looking for you." And let me tell you something. The audacity of this younger generation. The way he looked at me. Almost made me feel as bad as how I felt when he shrugged his shoulders after he had a good look. "Excuse me," I walk in front of him and blocked the screen. "I'm your new babysitter."
He shrugged. "Cool."
"What's your name?"
"You can read all about it somewhere else."
"What?"
"It's all on the iPad," he told me.
"What's your name," I repeated.
He rolls his eyes and looks at me as if I had asked him a stupid question.
I don't budge.
He whined, "Bobbie. Now come on, the next rounds about to start." he pulled his headphones over his ears. I grabbed the remote to get his attention. "What. Hey come on."
"It's nice to meet you Bobbie. Your mom's going to be away for a few hours and I'll be here until she gets back. Dinner is at 6:00 and I will make snacks at 4:30."
"No cap," he motioned at the tv, "Now can I get back to my game.
"Sure I tell him." Pocketing the remote.
"Hey!"
"Bye," I tell him as I close the door behind me.
So I'm back out in the hallway. And I open a few more doors. Some were locked. Before I get into one that's rather plain. There's a picture hanging up behind the bed, a tv, some lamps and shade. On the bed sits an identical, about 9 or 10, twins it seems. Probably why Bobbie was tired of being asked which one he was.
This one was staring at the blank screen. No video games. And quiet. Now I've babysat my share of kids before, and have seen all sorts. Quiet kids are my favorite. They don't mind board games, or listening. Most often times they only need to be left alone. I don't do too much talking in case they get tired of hearing my voice. And I give them a lot of space. "Hey, sorry about that. I didn't think anyone was in here."
He turned to me slowly, "Hi. Are you the new sitter?"
I nodded, "Yup. And I'm guessing that you're Max. I'll be watching you guys while your mom is away."
"She's probably going to work."
"Yeah, looked like it." I see the iPad in his hands. "Hey. I was looking for that."
"She's always at work." He hands it over. "It's dead. And mom took the charger."
I tried not to sigh. This was not how I wanted things to go. "Well, ok. If you need anything. Let me know. Or else I can come get you at 4:30 for snacks and dinner at 6."
He nodded, "Thanks," and goes back to staring at the screen.
I smile but he doesn't see, so I leave, closing the door softly behind me.
I make my way downstairs, wandering into the kitchen and start taking stock of what's there. Which was practically everything. This kitchen was so chic that I half expected Gordon Ramsay to pop out and tell me that the banana bread I made didn't have a clue if he staked the curved yellow fruit down the middle (it's a bad question mark joke. Listen. I never said I was funny).
Once I made sure that there was food, or ingredients to make food. There wasn't much else to do. The house was spotless. The kids were fine. And even the dog seemed well behaved. So I plopped on the couch, took out my fake braces, and watched tv until about 4:10 before I started slicing apples and celery to go with some peanut butter.
I fed the dog some peanut butter and licked my fingers (not with the hand I fed the dog with), before heading upstairs. Bobbie took the plate no problem but I couldn't find Max for the life of me. I wandered the rooms as the dog followed, still trying to lick my hand. "Max, I've got snacks." I knocked on what seemed like the umpteenth door before I get to a rather solid oak one that seemed custom.
Inside was the biggest home library I had ever seen. And I once dog sat for a pretentious professor from the college nearby. I mean, there was a portrait of said academic holding his dog in 18th century art style hanging over the mantle place of the deep wood cabinets filled with books. And yet this library made the other one look like a neighborhood book exchange birdbox.
"Holy..."
"Cow."
I whirled around to find Max standing in the doorway.
"You shouldn't wander into Father's study."
"I was just looking for you," holding up the plate. He made a face. "What? You don't like PB&C?" I took a stick and crunched on the celery.
"I'm not hungry."
I shrug. "Take it anyway. In case you get hungry."
He grabs the plate from me without much struggle so I decide to leave him be. I went back downstairs and crashed in front of the tv.
When I woke up. It was dark. My mouth was dry and all of the lights were off. The screen saver flashed the logo in blinks, lighting up the room only momentarily. For a second I forgot where I was and felt my heart thumping in my chest. My alarm didn't go off but I don't know why I woke up. Then I heard it again. The sound that must have jerked me awake. A crash. It came from upstairs. I grab my phone and glance down at the numbers. It was 8:10. I had slept through dinner. Shit. Shit. Shit. Here I was trying to make a good first impression and I missed out on dinner.
I wipe what drool was on my face and took to the stairs. Bobbie was probably so immersed in his game that he probably didn't even know he was hungry. Max on the other hand. "Max?" I call out down the hall. All of the doors are shut. I can hear something panting behind me. I turn to see the dog again. Its head is down and there's barely any light touching its face. "Hey come here," I called but it retreated in the opposite direction.
Then I shit me not. I heard a creaking come from behind me. It was the only noise in the house. I couldn't even hear Bobbie yelling in his room. I turn slowly and see one of the doors down the hall is now slightly ajar. It's dark in here. It was dark everywhere. I pressed my hands against the wall searching for a light switch. "Bobbie," I call out. There's no answer. "Hey, sorry about the delay in dinner. I'm going to get to it now."
Why was this place so big? And why could I see the door?
"Bobbie. Max?" I hear the dog tapping its paws behind me. Someone on the other side of the house by now. "Hey, where are you guys?" I peer at the single door that's open and realized why it was so prominent. The hall was dark, but what was inside was even darker. Instead of going toward it, I try the first knob my blind fingers came across. Process of elimination I told myself. It was locked. I tried the next one. Also locked. I finally get to Bobbie's door and I knock. "Bobbie." There's no answer. I press my head against the door and listen. But I don't hear a single sound.
"Where are all the light switches in this place!"
The door that was open before slightly opens again. Creaking, *tic tic tic tic*, with each ungreased turn of the hinge. "Shit. Hey, stop playing around."
There's laughing coming from behind me. It sounded like a little kids. Too young to be either of the boys. Followed by smaller footsteps. It sounded like they were barefoot. "Hey, this isn't funny. I'm going to tell your mother when she gets home." I take out my phone and turn on the flashlight. "When is she coming home?" It was almost 8:30, when I realized that we never set a time.
I hear footsteps again, they were odd. Almost like falling. Like a toddler learning how to run for the first time but the hollow ground sounded as if the person was much heavier. I shine my flashlight over the hall. "Shit." The dog was sitting on all fours in the corner. It was facing the wall. I couldn't even see his face. Every hair on its body completely still.
"Hey," I called out. "Come here." I clicked my tongue. "Come here." The dog didn't move. I couldn't even see it breathing.
Bang! It sounded like thunder behind me. As if someone dropped something on the floor. As if something fell off a shelf or was pushed. I jumped around and shone my light down the west wing. I didn't know if I should have been more or less afraid now that the door was closed. "Bobbie? Max?"
God. I did not want to try the door. And I stood there for a minute before realizing how stupid I must have looked. These were some rich kids playing a joke on you Camilia. I know it. The thought of their smug little faces made me stomp out of my frozen state. I took a couple of strides over and grabbed the handle.
"Fuck!" The thing was hot. "What the hell! You guys could have hurt me," I yelled. I banged on the door. "Open up. You two are in so much trouble." I banged on the door again. "Open the door. Right now!" I could hear something on the other side. It sounded like shuffling. Heavy furniture perhaps. "You guys better not be messing things up in there. I'm not going to clean it. I mean it."
I banged on the door. "I can hear you in there! Now come on!" I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot. "I'm waiting. Your little jokes over now." I banged on the door again.
That's when the door knocked back.
It wouldn't have scared me. I don't think. Except for the fact that I was surprised. And alone in the hall. Without any of the lights on. In a strange house. And before I could say anything else. Another door behind me knocked from the inside. "Shit. Both of you are in on this?" I grabbed the handle to the other door. It was also locked. I banged on it. "Come out right now. Max?"
But then a third door started knocked from down the hall. I felt my throat clump as I tried to swallow. "You guys weren't supposed to have anyone over." The knocking didn't stop. It kept echoing down the hall. "I'm not getting paid for three kids you know?"
Tat-tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat.
I took a single step. And then all of the doors in the hallway suddenly started banging.
I almost tripped as I ran toward the stairs. The doors were thundering on so hard I thought they would crack their hinges. I skipped the stairs, the sounds chasing me as I tried to not fall and break my neck. When I got to the front landing I hear someone say my name.
"Camilia. Are you okay?"
I'm trying not to choke on a lung here as I shot my eyes toward the kitchen. The kids are sitting on the barstools lining the counter. There are two plates in front of them. As if they didn't hear the drumline upstairs.
"Is it dinner time yet," one of them asks quietly.
"Max?"
He smiles.
"Kids. I think there's someone in the house." I rush over to grab each of their hands. Bobbie's wrists are limp but it was Max's hands that shocked me. They were ice cold. I tried to let go but my fingers wouldn't uncurl.
He turns my hand over and says, "There's no one else in this house except us. I promise."
"No," I wasn't about to listen to the kid even if it was his house. "Something is wrong. We have to go. Now." I pick up Bobbie and he doesn't seem to want to move. "Come on Bobbie. Let's go." He looks over at Max who shrugs and get out of his seat.
Bobbie follows as I drag them toward the front door.
"Camilia," Max says.
"What?" He looked scared. Which made me turn toward what he was staring out. At the front door was a tall figure. I couldn't see its face through the glass. It was a stark figure of a man.
"Do you think it's your dad?"
Max shakes his head. I feel him pulling against my arm.
I call out to the man, "Hey! Who is it?" The man doesn't budge. "I'm calling the police." I turn to Bobbie, "Get the phone." He doesn't move. "Hey!" I'm trying to sound as angry as possible. "Get the fuck out of here!" I grabbed a roll of painter's tape from the side table and hurl it across the hall, hitting the glass squarely in the face where the man's head stood blocking the exit. He doesn't even twitch as the glass shakes.
"Come on," I grab their hands and rush to the back. I don't get 10 steps before I feel a scream crawl up my throat making me cough. The man was standing at the sliding door. "Fuck!" I drag the two of them with me towards the kitchen. It's a big place so there had to be a way out to the garage. We push through one of the doors and end up in the laundry room. The next door gets us out into a 3 car garage. My hands find the glowing green opener against the wall and I hear the opener fold seamlessly towards the ceiling.
It started with his feet. Then his ankles. His shins. Then his legs. Light poured in from behind him from the streetlamp. I watched as the door went to his waist before I hit the button for the garage to close, before rushing back inside. We make it into the kitchen to where I still see the tall man standing at the sliding door. A part of me wants to hide in the laundry room but I didn't want to be sandwiched in the middle of the house. So I pull the boys back up the stairs, back to where the doors banged themselves. Taking out my phone as we ascended, and called 911.
"This is the police operator speaking."
"HELLO", I hope they could hear me, "There are several men trying to get inside!"
"Men? Are you in any danger?"
"No! But they have us surrounded!"
"Why don't you go outside?"
My tongue suddenly felt numb in my mouth. Like I didn't know what to do with it. "W-what?"
"It's stranger in the house."
The line went dead as we hit the hallway.
I only took my eyes off of them for a second before Bobbie. Or Max. Runs down the hall. The one or the other already slipping through a door ahead. I look back down the stairs and see that the man is still standing in front of the doorway. I look back up and see the other boy also going through the same door. I take a single step and the doors start pounding on either side. I shut my eyes and turn around. Afraid to go. Almost deciding that these weren't my kids. That I should run away. I take a step backwards mouthing that I was sorry. But I was too scared to go! "Max! Bobbie!" My back foot sticks to the floor. I don't want to look down but the next step sticks too. I point my phone to the ground and see a trail of blood. And just behind me. It's the dog. Split right down the middle, its spine shiny and white, still facing the wall. I could see its organs still pulsing.
I couldn't go back downstairs. I couldn't go the other way. I couldn't leave them here. I couldn't be alone.
I ran after them. The thundering of the doors following me as frames fell to the floor. A vase rolled off a table in the hall. It came crashing at my feet. I run my shoulder through the door, except it wasn't locked. Which caused me to go crashing, sprawling to the floor. Running into the desk in the middle of the room.
The study.
Many of the books were off the shelves. The carpet was torn. There were curtains on fire. It was the first time a saw a window as they burned.
"Camilia!"
I hear one of their voices shouting at me.
"Camilia!" It came again. "Help!"
I get to my feet and start working my hands along the desk. I didn't have to search far. The bookcase directly behind the chair had been swung open. "Camilia!" I wipe the blood from my eyebrow where it had split and step into the tunnel behind the secret passage.
The tunnel started off tall and wide, but as I kept walking in. It got smaller and smaller. I started having to hunch. Several times I decided to turn back. But their voices would echo through, calling for me. Asking for help. "I'm coming!"
"I can't hold on! Camilia! Please!"
The twins cry for help bounced off the walls. I was finally on my hands and knees when I finally see two holes on either side. I'm afraid to look but then one of their voices came through clear as day. "Camilia." It was right in my ear now. I turned to see the boy naked and huddling, hugging his knees at the back of his hole.
"Camilia! Help! I don't want to play this game anymore!"
"Bobbie?"
"Help me!"
I look into the hole, the walls are pressing on my back and there's dust going into my lungs. I can barely turn my shoulder. "Crawl out!"
"I can't!"
"Crawl out! I'm right here." I take out my hand, "Come on!"
"Camilia!" Came a voice from the other side.
I turn my head and see Max in the other hole.
"No!" Bobbie shouts at me. "No!"
"Hold on," I tell him. "I'm going to get both of you out of here."
"No," Bobbie cries. "It's all his fault. He's the one that did it. He's the one that wants to get out!"
"Bobbie, what are you talking about."
"He's the one that put something in your drink so you'd fall asleep!"
"He's lying!" Max's voice rang through. "It's him! I saw him. Always in father's study! Reading those books! Trying out those things he reads. Those curses. Those spells. It's why the shadow men are after him! Camilia! You have to believe me."
I can hear Bobbie crying, "Why are you lying! I don't want to play anymore," he screeches. "I don't want to play!" He sobs. "You said you'd go away if I told you that I didn't want to play anymore."
I don't know what made me do it. It sure wasn't the nauseating squealing tantrum of the boy which made me reach for him first. Maybe it was because I wanted him to shut up. I don't know but I plunged my arm up to my shoulder in to grab his collar.
Instantly I screamed and saw tiny spiders, short thing legs with round white backs crawl over my arms. I shook my arm in the hole, trying to smother them against the walls. That only caused these long brown flat slugs to fall. I saw one land on my hand. It had three distinct tendon-like lines running across its back and was about a half inch long. I pulled my arm out of the hole as I felt it pierce its flat head into the back of my hand. I dropped my phone and heard it crack as the light splintered in the small, suffocating tunnel. But I didn't care as I looked at my hand and saw it burrowing its tiny spearhead below my skin. I grabbed at the wiggling tail still exposed and tried pulling it out.
It was like trying to pull our barbed wire. The spines on its body were facing me. So with each pull they dug deeper inside. I could see blood pooling under my skin, it was starting to turn purple as I tugged on its tail even harder. Until it gave. Popped right off and lay twitching in my hand. The head missing.
I couldn't take it anymore. Really. I had tried my best. I shake my head. "Bobbie. Bobbie. I'm sorry." But it didn't matter. When I looked over at Bobbie. He was covered in it. All of it. Even the spiders.
My jeans started shifting as I tried to wiggle myself out of there. But I hear Max's cry again. "Camilia! Please!"
"No," I whimpered. Shaking. I couldn't reach my hand in there again. But his voice was so scared. More scared than the pain I felt.
I shot my arm inside. Bracing. Waiting for the pain. But there was none. Instead my hands grasped around his collar and I felt his cold clammy skin, and yanked him from the hole. He came without much struggle. His face covered in the soot of it all. "Camilia," he cried. "You picked me. You did it."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I almost didn't.
"Come on," I cried. "We. Have. To go."
The two of us wiggled our way out of there, crawling on our hands and knees, and running when we could. We finally make it back into the study. And the fire is roaring now. One of the books fall from the shelves and when it hit the fire I swear it started screaming. There was so much smoke that I couldn't see. And the door was covered by the flames.
I pointed to the window, the curtains on the floor in ashes. I kick the window. It didn't budge. I coughed. I kicked it again. The glass shook. I kicked it again and my foot went through. Pieces of the glass still hung in the frame, I use the tips of my fingers and pull them back. They fall to the floor cracking until there was a hole big enough for me to get through.
I plunge my head out and take my first breath of fresh air. The moon was full and the sky was clear. I could hear sirens coming off in the distance. When both of my feet were on the roof. I reach my hand back and grab Max from the burning house. Together we run across the clay tiles and climb down the arched tree. The red fire truck comes screeching to a stop as several firemen help us down.
One of them pushes a breathing mask on me, and wraps me up. The neighbors are outside, and the police arrive. I see a familiar car come roaring down the street, screaming to a halt as Molly runs out. Her face is flustered and she's shouting. Pushing through the cops until she reaches me next to the ambulance.
"What happened," she literally screamed at me.
"I'm so sorry," I tell her. "There were these men." I take another breath. "I couldn't do anything! B-but I saved Max! I saved him!"
She looked at the house. It was blazing now in the cool night. "Oh my god. Is Bobbie still in there?" Molly starts to cry. "My baby!"
"Max. But Max." I cough. "Max is okay!"
And she turns to me. I wasn't expecting her to be grateful. But there's anger on her face. "You didn't save my son. But you saved our dog?"
I shake my head. "No. Max. Your other son." I looked around but he was nowhere to be found.

s

1. Preparation: Picture again the lab, with 3333g of fresh cactus now reduced to 100g of ultrafine powdered cactus. 2. Basification: The stoichiometric amount of calcium hydroxide needed for mescaline is calculated based on the maximum theoretical yield (assuming 3-6% mescaline in the dried cactus, around 3-6g of mescaline). Given the molecular weight of mescaline (211.27 g/mol) and calcium hydroxide (74.09 g/mol), and the reaction mescaline + Ca(OH)2 –> mescaline-Ca + 2H2O, you would need about 1.05-2.1g of calcium hydroxide. You mix this precisely weighed amount of calcium hydroxide with your cactus powder and just enough distilled water to create a homogenous paste. 3. Nonpolar Extraction: You carefully immerse the cactus paste into exactly 1L of ethyl acetate in a volumetric flask, ensuring complete immersion. With gentle swirling, the mixture stands for 24 hours, allowing for maximum extraction. 4. Separation: Using a Buchner funnel and vacuum filtration, the green ethyl acetate solution is separated from the solid residues. Every drop of the liquid is carefully collected, while the solid remains on the filter paper, washed with additional ethyl acetate to ensure complete extraction. 5. Acidification: The green solution is carefully transferred into a round-bottom flask and gently warmed on a hot plate set to no more than 40°C, under a fume hood due to ethyl acetate’s low boiling point and flammability. A calculated 1.5-3g of citric acid (based on the molecular weight of citric acid, 192.12 g/mol, and mescaline, 211.27 g/mol, and the reaction 1 mescaline + 1 citric acid –> 1 mescaline citrate + water) is then added slowly to the warm solution until it fully dissolves. 6. Crystallization: The round-bottom flask, now containing the solution of mescaline citrate in ethyl acetate, is transferred to a refrigerator set at 4°C. Over the next 48 hours, fine white crystals of mescaline citrate slowly precipitate out. 7. Final Collection: The cold solution is quickly filtered again via vacuum filtration to separate out the mescaline citrate crystals. The crystals are rinsed with a small amount of cold ethyl acetate, then allowed to dry thoroughly under an airy hood, giving a final yield of white crystalline mescaline citrate.

I was doing some work east of the KC Metro this morning on I-70 and on the way back I stopped at a gas station for gas and I noticed an Indian guy in a grey honda minivan with his wife and 2 kids going around talking to people there. I didn’t think anything of it and got gas and as I left they pulled up next to me and asked to lower my window down. He said he was in the area for memorial day weekend, and headed back to California and his wallet either got stolen or he lost it and he needed money for gas and food to get back. I said I’d give him a few bucks but I realized I didn’t have any cash on me. He begged me to run in to the atm at the gas station. I wanted cash anyway so I offered to. When I parked he came up to my vehicle and started thanking me nonstop and offered to give me his gold necklace and he gave me his phone number so he could pay me back. I thought it made sense, since his license plate was from California and he had a California area code with his phone number. He wanted a couple hundred dollars since its a few day drive for gas and food for his kids. I guess i’m a sucker and an uncultured idiot cuz I found out its a pretty common scam. I’ve never heard of it before and it fooled me good. So ig this is for anyone thats never heard of it either and is generous enough to offer money. Also, I have a fake 18k gold chain if anyone wants it

not that he poisioned a child, not that he ruined the lives of his family and everyone around him, not the multiple people he killed none of that
its killing jane thats the worst thing that hes ever done cuz look at jane id let her stomp on my head until its mulch but no he had to go ruin it all because of his stupid pride and stupid ego

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fc660c	Blue and gray -unrealkeyboards housing gaskets -oem unsilenced sliders -silenced stabilizers still installed, o-rings removed -housings lubed with 105, stabs lubed with 205 and bdz - foam all cleaned	$200 shipped OBO
Sesang60 by bowl	PC case. Big copper through case weight/bottom. SS mid piece. Little bowling on front case but when pushed in is fine. Minor scuffs on weight and pc.	Looking for trades atm interesting boards.
Gmk carbon r2 bone icon kit	Missing several icon keys pictured	$70 Shipped OBO
Gmk carbon boneyard alphas r2	Missing one of the 6.25u not used	$70 Shipped OBO
Gmk belafonte decorations	Used	$35 SHIPPED
D65 white;No keycaps	Cream switches, stabs lubed, fr4 plate.	$210 Shipped OBO
IKKi68 with extras;No keycaps	Fr4 plate on hotswap pcb jwick blacks lubed, brass weight. Has silcoin weight on side. Has extra hotswap pcb but its scuffed some kets don't work. Extra brass and fr4 plate	$200 Shipped OBO
Og doubleshot chinese clones	Missing ? key. A little yellowed	$40 Shipped OBO
Qlavier 60	Stacked acrylic; gat ink housing alpaca stem, gat yellow, and another switch on z/x, 1up soldered pcb, tsangan full layout, milmaxed z/x keys	$165 Shipped OBO
Gmk Noel Hiragana Sublegends	Missing whats circled checked picture	$65 Shipped OBO
EPBT Cool kids smilies kit	Just in bags, 2nd owner I never used it and I believe last didn't.	$25 Shipped OBO.

Local to 95336 for trades ty. Bundle discounts

EDIT: just wanted to clarify for the sake of the post that at no point did I ever match or overtake the driver I described, I fell behind and then tried to equalize speeds to understand how fast he was going. No cars nearby, and I didn't fully match the guy's speed. I got up to an uncomfortable speed myself, saw I was not going to be able to match without being guilty of reckless driving myself, and withdrew. 185km/h is an easy estimate, I'm sure he would've topped out near 200km/h for a short moment there. I only managed to catch up to him because, blinded by his rage, he made a bunch of stupid merges that dragged him back to me in traffic. After about 8 mins of paying attention to how far up he was, he fell several positions back merging to the exit, and I was able to catch his plate. Love people who always blame the OP.
This past Sunday I was going to pick up someone in Guelph and was driving West on the 401. As I was about 13-14km away from the Morriston exit (which was the exit this psychotic driver got off at), I was in the 2x-solid-line separated HOV lane and cruising at a solid 137kph, as the speed of traffic was already pretty fast (~125) but I also don't want to get my license taken away because of bad luck. I was driving a 'green vehicle' which is why I was in the HOV btw.
A dude in a black Volvo SUV (early-to-mid-2010s) magically appears in my rearview mirror in the 2 seconds I don't check it, and he's immediately like Bill Cosby on my ass, staring at me in my mirrors with intent. He must've been doing 160/170+ just to catch up to me that quickly. I look in my rearview and put my hand and shoulders up like "what do you want?" because I can't legally leave the lane and I'm also not gonna do more than 50 over the limit because of some guy's ego (I sped up to accommodate it at first). So I wait until the line is about to break, and I signal to turn out and begin doing so. Unfortunately, our intrepid friend decides to veer out of the lane without signalling, before the line actually broke and while I was beginning my merge, and I'm forced back into the lane as he speeds past me, straddling the two lanes to my right and glaring at me with this deadpan "I'll kill you right now" type of old guy stare (all the while going 160, 170+, not looking at the road for a very slowly counted block of 4-5 seconds). Bald, all the caucasity in the world, and wearing a white shirt and cop shades. Pitbull lookin' ass.
As this was happening there was a brief moment of open highway (re: safety) so I tried to match his speed to see how fast he was going. I had to bow out. He easily passed 185km/h as he was beginning to approach the next wall of traffic (closing distance wasn't a thing to this guy apparently?). I couldn't believe my fucking eyes how fast he was willing to send it into the cars ahead of us, and then he spent the next 13km weaving in and out of traffic while I mostly just cruised up and around the left lane. All that work from him to get ahead, only for me to follow him (legally) the whole way and snag his license plate as he did a classic rapid 3-lane-merge towards his exit at Morriston just before Highway 6 north. Guy would've been fine if he just used the fast lane the whole time lmao. Guess something important was going down at home.
Whoever's abused dad is driving a black Volvo SUV with plates CYCY 661, he needs his ego checked and his license revoked. I prefer not dying while I'm running errands for people on a Sunday afternoon. I'm willing to drive pretty fast but if it was some normie going 115km/h hogging the lefthand lane, this guy might've driven them right off the road. Idk what comes after stunt driving but whatever that is, that's what this guy was doing, and in a fuckin family vehicle of all things. My biggest takeaway from this encounter is that Volvos are unbelievably versatile vehicles.
Please don't be an asshole on the roads. We all have lives to go back to and accidents as a result of this behaviour are highly avoidable. Can't believe how many top-heavy SUV drivers think they'll be able to get away with this type of shit forever, too.