Back house for rent

My name is Evaline and my sister who is vital to this as well is named Vivian and we are twins aged twenty-three. Yesterday we went on a graveyard investigation, and I don't think we came back alone.
We pulled up to the graveyard In Vivians beat up red bug. She shut off the car and looked over to me.
“I have a weird feeling, Evaline, are you sure you want to do this?” asked Vivian.
“Oh yeah everyone keeps telling me about this place!” I exclaimed.
As we exited the car and walked up to the property Vivian turned on the ghost box (A tool used for communicating with ghosts by scanning through radio frequencies and white noise).
The ghost box said one word very abruptly “STOP.”
We looked at each other with puzzled faces.
“Do you not want us here?” asked Vivian.
“STOP.’ Came through the ghost box again.
“Uh color me crazy but I think we should still go in.” I said.
Vivian looked at me for a moment and then agreed we heard one final “STOP.” as we entered and then it was dead silent for 15 minutes.
We were walking around when my sister Vivian stopped and looked at a specific tree. This tree is twisted looking literally it has two parts to it that twist together to make sort of an arch way.
“A woman is over there.” Vivian whispered and pointed towards the tree (Vivian Is a medium by the way)
“Well let’s go check It out.” I enthusiastically said.
As we reached the tree the ghost box said the name “ANNIE.”
Vivian Greeted Annie and asked her why she was there.
But I was more Interested In trying to find Annie’s headstone.
“Hey, ask her for her last name!” I shouted over to Vivian who gave me a thumbs up.
I walked further away scanning all the different headstones with my flashlight. Some of these guys are really old, like 17th century old.
“Maybe that’s why it’s so haunted.” I thought to myself.
As I looked up to scan the next headstone, I saw a figure of a man standing by a headstone. “Holy shit where'd he come from?” I thought “Hey Vivian do you see hi-” I cut off because when I pointed back to where I saw him no one was there.
“Okaayyy.” I said in a hushed tone “I’m just going to go walk over there and see what the headstone says.” I made my way over to the headstone.
“Oh no way Vivian come over here, look who I found!” I shouted
“What’s up, what'd you find?” Vivian asked excitedly.
She looked down as I shined my flashlight on the fading stone the words “Annie Forester Beloved Mother and Wife” were shown.
“ME.” Said the ghost box We both looked at each other. We normally don’t get very intelligent responses so this was a big deal.
“What happened to you Annie?” I asked “HUNG.”
“Oh Jesus, that took a dark turn.” I said
“Evaline, stop it.” Vivan shouted, "Can you tell us why?” she asked,
“WITCH.”
“Oh she must have been a part of the old witch hunts that happened all through England and Ireland.” Vivian said
“Yeah but why are you still here Annie?” I asked Nothing happened for a good five minutes before the response
“TO PROTECT” came through.
“Protect what Annie?” I asked another few minutes pass by before the ghost box says “THE LAND”
“Huh that's awfully sweet of you do you make sure the living are safe?” Asked Vivian
“YES” the ghost box replied almost Immediately
“LEAVE” It says.
“Why do you want us to leave?” I asked
“Yeah what's wrong Annie?” Asked Vivian
“HIM”
“Who is him?” Asked Vivian
“PLEASE GO”
Those were the last words the ghost box said for another twenty minutes
“Maybe we should go, it's been a while and we haven't gotten anything else.” Said Vivian
I Looked around the graveyard I had a bad feeling
“Yeah lets get outta here this place is starting to creep me out.” I said as I stood and shook myself off trying to get rid of the odd energy.
We packed up all of our things and headed to the entrance. We said a prayer so nothing negative would follow us and threw our bags in the trunk. As I opened the door I slumped down In the passenger seat.
“Phew.” I breathed
“We got some pretty good stuff from Annie. I just wanna know who the mysterious him is.” Giggled Vivian
The drive home was uneventful but I couldn’t shake that odd energy from my body.
“Hey Viv do you feel weird or is that just a me thing?” I asked looking over at Vivian
“Mmm yeah ever since we left I felt odd, hopefully it's just our nerves.” Vivian said with a warm smile. But something was hidden behind the warmth of her smile : fear.
We pulled up to the house and unloaded our bags onto the kitchen table. It's become sort of a ritual at this point, every time we finish an investigation we unpack and load in all the recordings to listen to with high quality noise canceling headphones. We also order some kind of takeout tonight's meal of champions was Chinese food my favorite.
I stirred together my orange chicken and rice as I pawed through the recordings settling on the third one when Annie mentions “HIM”. The recording fills my ears as I intently listen.
“LEAVE.” Says the ghost box
“Why do you want us to leave?” you can hear us asking
“HIM” the ghost box says
“Who is him?” Vivian’s voice says
I listen closely as silence fills the space
“I'm Him.” A deep voice says not over the voice box but right next to the recorder.
I screamed and jumped out of my seat throwing the headphones on the ground.
“What what what!” Says Vivian
“Oh hell no, that sounded like satan.” I said laughing In disbelief
I rewinded the recording so Vivian could hear it. I saw her face turn into a huge grin.
“Now this is solid stuff we have to go back there!” Exclaimed Vivian
“Yeah I'm down but you're reviewing the tapes next time that voice is creepy.” I said with a smile
“Deal!” Said Vivian as she stuck her hand out for a hand shake. I took it and shook hands.
“I'm gonna get ready for bed Viv goodnight!” I yelled as I walked away
“Goodnight!” yelled Vivian
I stepped into the poorly lit bathroom and turned on the shower
“That voice is seriously creepy.” I muttered to myself as I took out my High ponytail and let my dark brown curls bounce down to my shoulders. My hair always did look nice with my pale skin
“Thanks to you mom.” I said looking up at the ceiling
I stepped into the shower and started washing my hair when I heard something fall.
I opened the shower curtain to see the culprit my cat Leo
“Oh Leo you're going to be the death of me.” I puffed out closing the shower curtain again
Another crash comes from outside the shower curtain
“Leo Get ou-” I ripped open the curtain to find the toilet paper holder in the sink
I stared dumbfounded as to how my small cat could have body builder lifted the toilet paper holder into the sink.
“VIIIIVIAN” I screamed
Heavy footsteps pound down the hallway but no Vivian
“Vivian?” I called
Pounding assaulted the walls to the point they were vibrating as the footsteps continued
“VIVIAN” I endlessly scream for what seems like hours until the door bursts open and the walls stop pounding immediately
“Are you okay, what's wrong, what's going on?” Exclaimed Vivian with a very worried look.
“You didn't hear me screaming for you?” I sobbed
“No, I just now heard you and came in. What happened?” asked Vivian
I told her all of the events that had just occurred she looked towards the sink and back to me with a confused face
“The toilet paper holder isn't in the sink Evaline.” She said pointing towards the sink which was in fact empty
“What no I swear it was!” I exclaimed
“I believe you Evaline you never cry it's just odd try and get some sleep okay maybe you're really tired? Cooed Vivian
“Yeah maybe” I said
I finished my shower without any problems and climbed into bed.Covering myself with the plushy blanket I let sleep take me over.
“Evaline wake up!” Vivian yell whispered as she shook me awake
“What's going on?” I groggily asked and then I heard it pounding on the walls but it was everywhere The walls were all slightly shaking
“Is this what happened in the bathroom?” Vivian asked me
“Yeah pretty much just not as loud.” I said standing up I'm gonna go check it out stay her Vivian
“You're that white girl that dies in the horror movie.” Vivian said with a smirk
I shook my head and stepped out into the hallway. Literally all of the walls seemed to be buzzing with the pounding. I made my way past the family portraits and got to the back door slowly putting my hand on the door knob and twisting it till I quickly pulled it open and the pounding stopped. I Looked around the dark backyard and I noticed something: the figure of a man standing by our fence. I looked closer trying to get a better look it was definitely a man.
I turned around to grab the bat sitting on our porch.
“Hey buddy you better beat it!” I yelled, turning back with bat in arm to see he was gone.
“Weird.” I thought and went back inside the house. I closed the back door and turned to walk back to Vivian when I saw the shadowy man standing right in front of me.
“AH-” I started to scream but the air seemed to be sucked from my lungs and the only thing that came out was a small peep.
“I don’t like you creatures.” The man said in a voice I can’t even begin to describe. It wasn't human.
“But still you exist to only displease me.” He went on
“Who are you?” I stammered
“You wouldn't know the word but you gave a soul hope tonight which made her free of me so now I need another soul in return for the one you greedily took.” The man like thing said
“Annie?” I asked shakily
He made an odd gurgling crunching noise reminiscent of a laugh but sounded more like a garbage disposal.
“Obviously” he replied
“Now you're going to replace that soul.” He said calmly
“Evaline?” Vivian placed her hand on my shoulder
“Evaline Are you there helloooo?” Vivan said snapping her fingers in front of my eyes
“Yeah sorry Viv I just was thinking.” I replied
Now i'm writing this to you hoping someone out there knows what this thing is and how to get rid of it before I become the next soul to be taken by HIM.

Hey all, cross shopping a 1301 and an m4. Is there anywhere we know of that I can rent them to shoot back to back?

I'm sick and tired of seeing trucks and cars in the middle lane of a 3 lane highway when the right lane is open. Move the fuck over its not hard. Being in that lane causes back ups If you keep right it causes less. But anyway due to trucker being in the middle lane more than right and since my truck goes 80 I will now be going in front of semis and letting off the gas forcing you into the right lane if you go into the left I will speed up and do it again until you are in the correct lane. I will not brake check you or even brake at all. Police need to enforce the keep right law the most and charge anyone for staying in the middle/left lane for long periods of time. I'm not saying give them that ticket but anything and tell them if I see you doing it again i will. Sorry for the rage.

I was free roaming one of my hamsters last week and he managed to get himself stuck in a water bowl. I took him out and dried him off right away, but he chewed up his foot pads. I just got back from visiting family for the holiday and each foot essentially looks like a big scab. I can see him still grooming himself and he's walking around. I'm going to deep clean his cage today so he hopefully stays cleaner. He did have some (a small amount) droppings on his bottom when i checked on him. I can't tell if he's sluggish yet because he's sleeping but I want to know if anyone has seen this before. I feel really bad for the little guy cause he's the sweetest hamster I've had.

I had an HVAC guy come out to do an inspection on my furnace/ac and he told me that running the fan constantly won't produce any significant weatear on the unit, and that it can be better for air circulation throughout the house. Is this accurate?

Hi all, today was the first day of my first in- person class in three years. I'm finally getting back into college so my SA has been very activated. Something that didn't help was making a mistake on a very simple problem in front of the whole class this morning...
I'm a physics major and like to think I'm smart, and a lot of my self worth unfortunately revolves around living up to that belief, so I've ended up being a perfectionist. When I got the answer wrong to a problem I did on the board in front of everyone (it was seriously just a matter of adding and subtracting) I felt like such an idiot and was silently panicking for the rest of class.
I kept ruminating about how everyone must think I'm stupid now. I even started tearing up which was very embarassing, luckily no one noticed. My body's knee-gerk response to situations like that is to cry, and I hate it so much. My prof said he was glad I came up and tried, that you always learn from making mistakes, but that just made me tear up even more out of shame. It was such an uncomfortable situation.
Does anyone have any advice on not crying when feeling overwhelming social anxiety like this? It's very embarassing for me and wish I could just get it under control. Thank you!

-Red-
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home.

I (40) have tried to spice things up here and there for a bit now but my wife doesn’t seem to bite. I totally understand as we have had some major life changes (9month old and new house) but I’m not sure what to do with myself. I miss our fantasy discussions as well as our sexting sessions but her mind is just not there anymore.
My question is, would it be considered cheating if I were to look on here for other woman to ask questions or talk sex with? I have zero interest in meeting up with anyone but more just a random sexual companion on Reddit. For context, my wife and I both opened Reddit accounts about 3 years ago in an attempt to talk to others on here as well as search the porn subs. At one point I asked her if she would mind if I talked to other women on here about dirty stuff and she said “she wouldn’t mind at all” as long as it was just that. I also think she was ok with it because she wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time sexting or any of that stuff. I never really tried but now that is a possibility. I’ve looked for other posts surrounding this topic but have yet to find any. Curious to hear your feedback!

I don’t even know where to start here tbh. I suck, plain and simple. I made a mistake, wish i could go back and never even go to my bachelor party.
Over a 3 day weekend of my bachelor party, one night i made a mistake by cheating on my fiancé with someone whom i didn’t even know the name of. I was drunk and stupid, but still ultimately had sex. It meant absolutely nothing, but i still did it.
I feel terrible, almost as if part of my soul left my body the moment it was happening. My fiancé doesn’t deserve this, I’m going to own up and tell her the truth. I know i deserve any/all repercussions that will come when telling her, but I’m scared.
I’ve torn pedals off of a flower, and can’t live with myself. I don’t know where I’m going with this at all, but if anybody is reading this and even has the slight thought or curiosity of cheating, DONT FUCKING DO IT.
-How can I ever forgive myself?

• How can I live life knowing my purpose (fiancé) in life may disappear?

-How do i tell her?
(Background info: been together for 5+ years, engaged for 8 months, set to be married this fall, own a house together, both of us struggle with depression at times)
Last thing I’ll say here, my intent is not in any shape or form to make myself a victim here. I did this, i take full responsibility, and i know i suck.

I (19F) took a gap year, not my choice the tldr of the situation was that I had a learning disability my high-school didn’t want to accommodate so they pushed helping me (“too busy with other students”) until it was too late and my only option was community college and then tried to gaslight me into believing I told them that I wanted to go to community instead of university. (thankfully my parents corrected them that was bs because I had planned down to the exact university, major, dorm housing, and down how to get there from starting freshman year.)
All my friends started college and like sure I knew it would hurt they did and I was just working but like…now it really hurts. I will be a first Gen college student and because of that my family doesn’t know how to help. I also live in one of if not the hardest states to go to university in, and their applications close wayyy early.
I missed fall admission to most schools, I think there’s some I can still do spring admission though and I am really trying to start college summer classes at the CC. I don’t know what to do though.
My learning disabilities make it really hard for me to figure out on my own but i was doing it. I got a scholarship (I still have), I was a decorated honors student, commander of multiple undefeated state STEM teams. I was a state and award winning vocalist, award winning actor and costume designer. Close to some odd 200 hours of community service. Recommendation letters that essentially glow. AP & Honors student. Things I wrote were actually published.
Tests aren’t my thing, I got a 900 on the SAT. So I killed myself physically to make sure that I could prove that I am a great student even without it. Covid tanked my GPA from straight A to barely passing with C’s and B’s. I worker m’y ass off to make up for it. All I wanted was to go to university. That’s all I wanted.
But my parents don’t know how to help, (even if they did one is very I’ll) I can’t do this on my own I don’t know how. I’m overwhelmed.
I could get into college. I know I could. I would be fucking great at it. I just don’t know how to apply. The stupid fucking common app thing makes me have a panic attack I don’t understand it. The transcript process is a headache. I don’t understand it, the admissions people tell me that they’ll help but then they don’t.
I’m scared I’m never gonna go. I’m scared all my friends are gonna graduate and leave me behind. (Friends since 6th grade survived me moving to 2 different states) I feel so alone. My family hugged me and told me that they were counting on me to be the first. I cant. I cant. I don’t know how. I can’t figure out how to get my foot in the door. (I can’t even think about paying for it)
I wanna go to college, I want to do the job I want, and I want to be proud of my MYSELF. Because right now I hate myself.
If you have parents who can help you, if you wanna go to college and you can, I envy you. I’m only 19 and I feel like a failure…

Hello guys, i bought SOD2 not to long ago, and got to play it recently, really enjoyed the first few hours of tutorial (took my time with it) but now that i just found a new camp, still trying to work things out and i am just getting bombarded with the messages for help. From other groups and people in my camp. Like literary every freaking step i make someone needs help(You would think it would be a bit quieter after zombie apocalypse) .I was helping one camp mate , and after that another one got depressed because i took to long and his brother died and by the time i helped someone else another campmate wants to leave. Other people on the map keep making request and getting angry at me or basically threatening me if i won't help and trough all this i am trying to scavenge the parts to upgrade sleeping conditions in my camp because people are upset even more. Is it possible to tone this all down somehow? Because atm i am just driving from one side of map to another doing fetch quests just to try and keep people happy, and i am struggling with that. I was really enjoying slow approach of exploration, scavenging and crafting at the start in this amazing post apocalyptic world, but now i just feels like a chore because i can't really even play the game without spending most of time doing fetch quests so people don't start leaving or becoming hostile.
Sorry if i sound like i am complaining , but my play time is limited after i come back from work, and i rally want to enjoy this game instead of feeling like doing more work.
Thank you in advance for any kind of advice i will get!!!

Hello all, I will try to provide as much context as possible.
I currently live in a house that was built in 1975. I have a Goodman Furnace (BTU's unknown) and AC (3 ton) both installed in 2010. I just had technician out the other day for a normal routine checkup and he said everything was looking good. On paper, my house is a 2600 sq-ft tri-level on a slab (no crawl space). Upstairs windows need redone and the main floor windows were redone last July. There's 6-8 inches of blown in insulation in both the attics. My issue is that my AC will run from about 12pm to 8 or 9pm until it finally shuts off on super hot days. It runs a little less on milder days. During the day, the air will kick on at 71 when its set to 70. The air will maintain 71 in the house all day long until finally turning off at night when it starts to cool down. As for the furnace, it will run on about an hours or so cycles in the winter. I do replace my filters regularly and they are never super dirty. I have also never witnessed or had any freezing
At this point, I'm just going to run the system into the ground. Just curious about its current state. The two different techs I have had out just say "it could be undersized but we wouldn't know without looking at it deeper"
Question is: What would cause this? Is my unit just undersized or could it be an insulation problem?

For context I've had a bout with asthma over the past 5 years and only used an inhaler to suppress the symptoms. I smoke cigarretes daily due to stress and social interactions which is also terrible, but coupled with the asthma, I've been pretty much creating a ticking time bomb leading up to this past Friday.
I got sick Wednesday as did my whole family and we were starting to suspect covid, as we've all had it already and my symptoms specifically were very similar. Last year when I tested positive I spent 5 days in bed clutching my inhaler telling myself I would go to the hospital if I ever felt like this again.
On Friday I left work early and literally dragged myself to the emergency room. I had to walk a few blocks to order an Uber and was literally on the brink of collapsing, coughing my lungs out and manually breathing. It's crazy, we take breathing for granted every day because our body does it for us, but not that day for me. Every breath I took I was doing so with all the energy I had.
On my uber ride, all I could think of was the many friends I know who lost someone to covid, including people who by their own will went in to the ER and didn't make it out.
That's what was on my mind, "I'm going to get in there get intubated and I'm never going to see my wife and kids again". I'm 31 M and ive been fairly successful in my professional life and also know I've done a lot of messed up things in my life that although I might wish I can take back, have led me to where I am today with my kids, my wife, and my family.
The main thought in my mind as I was being admitted was, "wow, my kids will not have a recollection of me when they are older if I don't make it out", I never made the vlogs I've been meaning to get around to for them, or set up my will, or play catch with the two smaller ones.
I was so afraid because I didn't know what was going to happen, but all I knew was I had to keep manually breathing otherwise I was going to collapse.
Most importantly I think, I was afraid because I didn't know if I was going to die alone in the hospital because of my carelessness not to take care of my health. I have no one to blame for this but me, this is self made and I knew no one should feel sorry should something happened, because I'm a victim of me not anyone else.
They ran the tests, came back negative for covid, turns out as I've alluded to I had a really nasty asthma attack. I've been treated the past 5 days and I almost feel back to 100%.
I'm sharing this to let it out to be honest, and to hold myself accountable. Because I never want to feel the regret and fear I felt last Friday. And I'm going to do everything to make sure my kids remember wlme when they're older, and that they feel supported even when I'm no longer here.

There is only one Kronika...right? Is Lui Kang reborn or is it a entity lock? If Mileena is back so is Baraka? Raiden won't have his powers again until Lui Kang dies or gives them back? If Kitana is back so is Sindel? Okay I'm starting to think too far...wait...if they had the story in two parts for 11 would that mean MK2 is DLC for MK1 since Mileena didn't show up until MK2 in a sense making it possibly the prequel to MK12? Is Shang Tsung good now (I saw Lui Kang partially smirk at him when he opened the portal and Shang Tsungs stance didn't look threatening) and it was just him visiting friends?...Does Kung Lao still throw his hat? but his energy surrounding the hat still cuts? The new boss has to be powerful enough to stop Lui Kang and I'm worried that Lui Kang is getting too involved in the timeline...something is going to happen and I'm thinking they're going to let the MK Kommunity choose the story based on popular choices perhaps?

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Okay, so for context, this is a post I made yesterday: https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/comments/13vgk4g/boyfriend_25m_and_i_22f_have_different_values_can/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1
(TL;DR for the above: My boyfriend and I seem to have different values (primarily in the sense that he thinks it’s funny to make insensitive jokes and I don’t, he doesn’t value prioritizing the community over self and I do). Should I break up with him or try to make it work?)
As I expected, the overwhelming consensus is that I should break up with him because we are too incompatible. I definitely agree (and tbh I have known this for a very long time, and I have even tried to do it several times) but this has been really hard for me. I was hoping I could give a little more context about our relationship and hopefully get some advice about how best to go about this.
Okay, so first of all, I never really intended to be in a long term relationship in the first place. (Disclaimer: I am aware that all of these actions are very judgement-worthy. I know, I know.) It started out as a very casual friends with benefits situation, and neither of us had any intention of getting together. Tbh, I met him on Tinder, which I was on because I wanted to get the whole losing my virginity thing out of the way. And we really clicked both in terms of sex and just hanging out. But we were definitely not dating or anything like that. And tbh, we have been fighting ever since we first met. However, as he opened up to me over time, I definitely fell in love with them. (I realize now that some of this could possibly be owed to the fact that he was the first person I ever had sex with - and like… oxytocin and stuff.) This has also been my first serious, long-term relationship. But now I’m here, and I’m about 2 years into this, or 1 year of actually being in a relationship, and I can’t go back.
When I try to confront him about the things I discussed in my previous post, he makes me feel like I’m overly judgmental, condescending, and I’m treating him like a “bad person.” He makes statements like “You talk to me as if I’m going to go out and commit hate crimes and murder people.” I try to explain that I know that’s not the case, and that he’s not saying these things in public or to the people it will hurt most, or to anyone but me, but that still doesn’t make it okay. But it makes me feel like I’m being super judgmental or self-righteous, and I sort of shrink back because of that, as I don’t want to be unfair.
Another thing that makes it hard is that when I try to set boundaries or establish limits, I feel like I am being unfair because I have allowed things to go on for so long already. And he makes statements like this as well. Honestly, I know I’m a hypocrite, but I don’t know how to fix that without feeling like shit.
I am also scared to break up with him because I don’t want to hurt him or be the reason he doesn’t believe in love. He is already really insecure about so many things, and there are a lot of things about his family background and past relationships that have created a lot of abandonment and trust issues, disorganized attachment, and other issues with relationships. He also suffers from depression. He often says the he feels like I am the first person in his life to truly love him, and I am the first person that he has truly loved (at least romantically). I think one of the biggest reasons that I am scared to break up with him is that I’m scared to hurt him, and I’m scared of how he will be if I leave. Also again, I really do love him, even though he can be really unattractive some times. And I also feel really bad about cutting things off because I know that I have allowed them to go on for so long, so it’s like how do I get to just change up now? He says I am being unfair by trying to potentially end or give up on our relationship now, without giving him the opportunity to do better (after talking last night about how I would appreciate him making efforts to educate himself and develop more empathy). He says I’ve never given him this chance before, although the way I see it, me talking about how I have a problem with this behavior and wishing he could empathize with others more should be all he needs to try to start changing. This applies to the disrespectful “jokes” thing, as well as a variety of other things that go on in our relationship. Again, I know I sound like such a hypocrite, and a horrible person for allowing things to go on for so long. And then there’s the thing you always hear about how it’s unfair to try to make someone “change” for you that’s always in the back of my mind.
I several times have tried to set boundaries or break up with him, and I will admit that I have often in the process said things that are really hurtful or just in generally poor form, or have made him feel more insecure. For example, during our last fight, I said something about how it would be it sucks to think about how there are people who share my values out there, and it would be nice to be able to be with someone who does. And he was really hurt by that.
There’s also the fact that our lives are so entangled now, because we have been in this so long. He’s met all of my family, I’ve met his. He’s making plans to move to my area, including a big career change that is dependent on that move. So I just feel so conflicted about ending it, even though I know I should.
I say all of this to say, how would you all go about breaking up with him? (How would you say it, when, etc.) In a way that is fair, and also tries to minimize the fall out? I’m really concerned about whether he will be okay if I leave.
TL;DR: How should I break up with my boyfriend (what words, when, other steps/considerations etc.) in a way that is fair but also tries to minimize the fall out of him giving up on love and getting depressed? Especially given that I haven’t always handled the situations in the best way.

I'm just getting into my Shot Scope v3 watch and sensors. One thing that I wonder about is the validity of the stats since I might use my 5 iron for a low punch out of trees for about 100 yards when a clean strike from the fairway is going to get me 175+. I know it's valuable information when all shots are from a clean lie/full swing as you're getting honest stats but that other shot is throwing it off. Does that just not matter as once I've hit a lot of shots with the club that becomes statistical noise?
Also, I see other shot trackers that are telling you left or right of target for dispersion. How do they know where I was aiming?
I see a big gap between 'the shot I was going for' versus 'the shot that was registered' and there's no way I can remember it all to go back and fuss with the data.
Any advice from shot tracking mavens on this sub?

I've been ill for many years, since I felt a slight change when I got mononucleosis.
What I wanna know is, recently due to a really abusive relation (but let's put that aside now), the person that makes food for me decided not to make food for me for 4 days, because they got mad at something I said, and my digestive condition is very sensitive at this point. I was forced to eat bread with tomato for 4 days until they made food again. After that I got a crippling gastritis and constipation, that was around 2 weeks around, the constipation I healed, the gastritis kinda forgot about it, now I have this pain in my stomach, that I didn't used to have. I already spoke to another redditor that it could an ulcer or polyps. At this point I'm just at an open arms position for information, see what the best advice and couse of action is.
I've been healing from ALL my symptoms besides the stomach one, that started last year, and I'm gonna spare you the story because you gonna think I'm crazy, with the amount of shit I've had to put up with.. I started not being able to move, feeling some paralyzing sensation from my stomach forced me to lie down. Since then I've done a lot of dietery changes, and it has become a meter inside me, of how much I'm forcing the stomach. With my latest dietary change, I was feeling quite confident, I was finally eating food from my mom, that I've previously ate my whole life, I was being able to walk around, and work more, increasingly bulding resistance, until this happened, now i get that pain, which is different from the one I used to feel, I tried all different kinds of foods and even did a laxative spray supository (watch out when using it, because it has air inside, and to people sensitive with Sjogren's that might mess you up). Until I did finally after full focus on it be able to shit again, i shit very little and effortful at first, but then it feels like old me again, after the first time shitting, i changed to chicken broth with, that brown spaghetti, i heard it was good for gastritis and stuff.. I ate it for about a week I think, until I'm kind of around of where I am now, then I ate some soup and fruit, that day I tried pushing it and working around the house like I used to (because I'd been pushing), didnt work so well, Ii almost died, so now I'm at full rest, ate chicken broth the first day and a half, then i changed the soup, because fatty foods isnt good for sjrogens, damn this is complication, and I've had soup 2 meals in a row now, and later im gonna try some bananas, couse its already late, and nobody can cook for me, but this pain I'm having, I was told that ulcers take 2/4 weeks to heal, polyps i couldnt quite figure out, I was told by another redditor to try greek yogurt, which I think its a terrific idea, but I will if I see I survive the bananas well first, and at this time with the stress as well, i dont know if im making a correct diagnostic of myself as well, nor do i know what i want anymore. And the stress I think its worsening the tummy pain.. For what it regards I think the thing in my stomach is in the left side, more upper side, I would to know, what do you think it is, in a situation where I can barely walk, is my life in danger, anyone with experience on any kind of stomach problems directed to Sjogren's, could share their experiences to relieve my mind, it would be great.
Sorry if this is a mess. My life is a complete mess, and I have a lot of trouble just opening up and trusting people.

Okay so I’m not used to post on Reddit, also English isn’t my first language so bear with me.
I was with a boy for 9 months, not really together because he was scared to commit but like a couple yk.
2 days ago he broke it off, saying I depend too much on him. This is a bit true but he was the loner type and I thought we were good, I was trying and willing to learn to be more independent.
So I try NC, I want him back (I know nc isn’t for it but hey, I love him) but I guess it will also help me move on if he doesn’t want me.
Yesterday I asked him if we could try again, he said we’ll see in a month when we will see each other to give our stuff back. He said he’s not sure if he wants to try, I said to him that I’m willing to work on myself, I already am in therapy since march.
It just hurt so bad, I feel either empty or crushed

-Red-
April 19th, 11:13 A.M., The Sprawl
I sparked a dilapidated Vita-Cig that I’d snagged from Trodes and peered out into the Sprawl; the careful equilibrium of a well-orchestrated black-market had returned; pushers and gangers lined the alleys, watching for signals from rooftop lookouts to avoid the single Peacewatch cruiser that had been stupid enough to enter the dockside. The poor bastard would be dead before the afternoon was over… not that I had much sympathy for his kind. Peacewatch made it a habit to stay out of the Sprawl: unless the Eggheads predictive crime system said something catastrophic was coming, they policed their kind and left us in the hands of the mob. I’d never iced an officer. Not yet at least.
“Your partner should be ready shortly, I think he’s just tying up a few loose ends,” Akari said, snatching the cigarette from my hand and taking a long drag.
“Remind me again why you think I should take the shrimp with me instead of Nico and Roman?”
“He’s smart… and the other two are working on something else. Besides-- you need brains on this one, Red, not muscle,” she giggled, passing the cigarette back.
“Whatever you say,” I paused, grabbing the smoke, “what do you have them up to?”
“There’s a shipment of Xeno-grade weapons coming down from the colonies. Nico and Roman will be liberating them from the Slicers. Or, their share, at least. It won’t be much, maybe a dozen guns, but it’ll be worth it: the force field tech alone will pay for the trip as soon as Fincetti’s goons start trying to take your heads off with plasma cannons and mono blades.”
“What do you mean, their share?”
“The job was too big for us to take on alone. I linked up with another enterprising group of Freelancers. If it goes well, maybe we can hire them on for the heist, we’re going to need more people if we want to walk out of there alive.”
We?
“What, are you planning on coming along now?” I asked, snuffing out the smoke.
“It only seems right; Trodes is coming along, and I’m a better shot than he’ll ever be. Besides, you have a dangerous habit of getting shot, and I can’t have you going down in the field,” she said, winking as if to punctuate the sentence.
“You sure? We can manage, you don’t have to come with us, you’ve done so much already.”
“I know I have, that’s why I have to protect my investment. If you go down out there, then the team is without a leader. A military scale operation like this will go south real fast without someone competent in command.”
“You’ve got me wrong, Akari: I’m no leader. I’m just someone who wants to live in a better city and doesn’t mind taking the trash out himself. Besides, why do we need a leader? We’re all competent adults acting in concert, of our own free will. We all know what we’re doing, if a situation arises and someone needs to take charge, it’ll happen.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in a crew you just met,” Akari said with a sneer.
“You know why I asked you to put the team together, Akari?”
“Because there’s a bounty on your head that could finance twenty retirements, and you know you can trust me?”
“No, well yeah, but that’s beside the point—I asked you because you’re not a Fixer, you’re a part time street doc that works the front desk at the most popular Freelancer hotel in the Sprawl. If there’s anyone who knows who’s gonna get the job done, it’s you. See, a Fixer is going to be okay with whatever losses they deem acceptable beforehand, but they’re fine with keeping that to themselves. If you thought any of these mooks were going to crack under pressure, or do something stupid, you wouldn’t have set me up with them.”
Before she could respond, Trodes emerged from the stairs leading to the lab. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes, shrugging on the hood of the oversized sweatshirt that blanketed his meek frame. Glimpses of pain showed through every tremor laden step he took. A cloak of wires enveloped his skull, feeding into an old-world cyber console.
“It’s insufferably hot out here,” Trodes sighed.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Chances are that whatever hole we’re meeting BFU in will have air conditioning,” I responded, clicking my key fob, and signaling the bike to pull around.
Trodes face fell flat when the Supersonic rolled around the corner; apparently, the prestige of carving through the skyway on a state-of-the-art Taffington jet-bike was lost on him.
“Are we taking… that?” Trodes stammered.
“We are. Unless you’ve got a pair of wheels with two seats?” I asked, mounting the bike and revving the engine.
With an exasperated sigh, Trodes boarded the passenger seat. I could feel him behind me, vibrating as tremors gripped his body.
“You good, buddy?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously, clenching the handrails with white knuckles.
Akari shook her head and headed back to the lab.
I heard Trodes mumble something under his breath, but it was quickly drowned out by the jet-bike’s purr. I carved into the skyway. Driving in the Sprawl was pure freedom: almost nobody owned vehicles with aerial capabilities in this part of town. It didn’t take long to reach top speed.
Slummers and gutterpunks walked the streets like zombies in a drug addled haze. The scent of gunpowder, pollution and burning ozone coalesced into a putrid stench that reeked of poverty and violence. Patches of azure moved in militant formation below; the Vorrath had taken to the streets. On a different day, a better day, I would’ve helped them. Most slummers hated the Offworlder Coalition, but not me—at the end of the day I always figured that I had more in common with poor people from another planet than rich people from another district of the city. At least we shared the same struggle.
The bike slowed to crawl; the Neo-Confederates were about, backed by a platoon of Brown-Shirts that looked like a tide of sewer run off, crashing through the streets with reckless abandon. Civilians fled for their homes. Fuck.
The jet-bike careened through the air before finally landing atop a building a few blocks away from the impending conflict.
“Get off,” I said, turning back to Trodes.
“Why? You don’t intend to abandon me at this altitude, do you?”
“Not as long as I survive—I’ll be quick, I just need to ventilate some Nazi fucks, understood?”
He shook his head and muttered a string of curses.
I tore through the air, circling around the impending conflict. I chased a handful of cheap amphetamines with a poorly rolled joint and swooped low, behind the rolling tide of brown shirts. This wasn’t the first time I’d made myself an enemy of the city’s Neo-Nazi’s; I’d killed at least a dozen of them in my career as a courier, but those were isolated incidents, back-alley brawls away from the mob.
This was a whole new ball game.
I fell slack as my Teleoperations module synchronized with the bike. My consciousness faded, reemerging into the HALO-Net’s stylized rendition of the bike’s interior. I wasn’t just the pilot now—I was the bike. Bullets carved twin streaks of crimson into the brown tide. It didn’t take long to hit top speed, 3.7 seconds, to be exact.
The group turned in nearly perfect unison, launching volley upon volley as I passed overhead. The bike’s shields barely held together; I felt every round, like a flock of birds violently slamming into my side—not enough to cause any real damage, but more than enough to get the blood pumping. I slid into an alley a few blocks off and waited for the shield generator to recharge. Gunshots rang out from the streets, alongside the sizzle of plasma meeting flesh. Soon the din was drowned beneath the roar of dozens of Vorrath war cries. I took to the sky.
Trodes was exactly where I left him, nervously clutching a knock off version of a Locust flechette pistol.
“I was beginning to doubt your survival,” Trodes said shakily.
“Wrong again, little guy,” I paused, reigniting a half smoked joint, “it was just a quick hit and run, we don’t have the time or the numbers for a pitched battle. Now, hop on.”
It didn’t take long to find BFU’s base of operations. Black flags and Anarchist graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned warehouse they’d apparently taken up residence in. A field of repurposed Peacewatch turrets were installed atop the roof, complimented by a web of cameras that spread across a three-block radius. Anarchists of all species and creeds loitered outside. The guards ranged from Cyborgs and Vat-Grown, to Vorrath and Vorstihl, each wearing a variant of the black flag with colors corresponding to their ideologies.
As I hovered above the building, I saw a familiar face: the rookie from earlier. Alarmingly, his cruiser was nowhere to be seen. His face was wrought with horror, as a pair of cyborgs led him inside the warehouse.
“They’re certainly less than subtle,” Trodes said.
“They don’t have to be subtle, they’re the biggest citizens political organization in the Sprawl. Peacewatch avoids them if they have anything less than a full platoon on hand,” I explained.
“Red… before we enter negotiations with these hooligans, I must inquire as to what your motivation hitting the vault is? Surely you know there’s a strong likelihood that you won’t make it out, and from what I’d heard about you, I always understood you to be a man who knew how to keep himself out of the line of sight of dangerous people,” Trodes said, nervously.
“Fincetti is the most dangerous man in the city, short of O’Bannon. He controls the black market with an iron fist and is instrumental in all the things I hate about living here. The problem is, I have no way to do anything about it right now… but there’s something big in the safe—there must be—for fucks sake, he iced his family over it. I’m hoping there’s something in there that can give me a little leverage, so I can cross him out afterwards.”
Trodes was silent for a moment, simply reaching as if to ask me to pass the joint. I obliged.
“I have my reasons to want O’Bannon dead too, I’m in,” he paused as a coughing fit seized him, causing the joint to fall to the ground, “there’s something you should know though: I’m working with an entity of great power in the Net; I don’t know what precisely it is, but I know it saved my life more than once. As a matter of fact, it’s the only reason I was able to obtain the blueprint of Fincetti’s bunker, and his security plan.”
“Is it… is it an unshackled AI?”
“Unlikely: it seems to understand compassion and empathy on a uniquely organic level, something that rarely slips past Netwatch.”
“Alright, well whatever it is, you keep an eye on it and let me know if things get shady. I appreciate you telling me.”
Trodes nodded in silence.
The crowd parted expectantly as I landed along the streetside. Dozens of eyes were immediately glued to Trodes and I. A cyborg with a steel double mohawk emerged from a sea of leather, patches, and smoke. A sawed-off shotgun hung at his side.
“Red, I presume?” the Cyborg asked, extending a steel hand.
“That’s right, and who’re you?” I answered, clasping the borgs hand as firm as I could manage.
“They call me Diezel, and I’ll be your host today,” he released my hand and looked me up and down as if assessing whether I was a threat, “follow me, everyone’s here so we can get straight down to business.”
The warehouse’s interior had been renovated drastically; layers of open-faced lofts sat stacked upon each other, consuming the walls. Nearly every non-violent law in the city was being broken in the lofts, from cooking chems and explosives to studying banned literature and Doomguard martial arts. It was beautiful. We followed Diezel through a winding hallway of munitions manufacturing stations, before finally emerging into an immense circular room, with rows of seats climbing the walls. I couldn’t believe it—there must have been two hundred people present.
The lights dimmed as we entered the arena. Diezel led us to the rooms center, ushering Trodes and I onto a great circular platform; he fell into place on a platform across from us, beside a Vat-Grown woman bearing an orange and black flag on her arm, and augmentations that cost more than my bike. Behind the duo a bulbous Vorstihl lurked; tentacles draped down his back, carefully pulled away from his cyclopean eye. A red and black flag was displayed on his arm… it was only then that I noticed the blue and black flag on Diezel’s arm.
The platforms each rose roughly fifteen feet into the air, before microphone stands emerged from the center of each platform. Diezel stepped forward, past the microphone.
“Before we start, I’ll explain how this works: the three of us are representatives of our specific unions—but the people are free to interject. One union voting to aid in your endeavors does not guarantee the help of the other two, as each union demands a perfect consensus. Likewise, if a faction without one union decides to help you, it does not necessarily mean you have the support of the entire union. The only way you’ll end up with total support is cross union consensus. Do you understand?”
A consensus: of course, they needed a damned consensus.
“I do,” I answered, speaking away from the microphone.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Diezel stepped back, finding his microphone before continuing, “Red, Trodes, welcome to the Bouleuterion,” he paused a moment as the crowd erupted into cheers, “beside me are my comrades Aria and Korvirex, and we stand ready to hear your proposal.”
“As most of you probably know, Don Fincetti is the most powerful man in the underworld, hell—maybe even the city—what you likely don’t know is that he has a vault beneath the city, guarded by an army of Harvesters. I intend to break into the vault, slaughter the Harvesters and strike a blow to Fincetti that he won’t forget… and I intend to kill him shortly after. What I ask is simple: you help me in what’s to come, and when he’s finally dead, you can all split his turf among yourselves. All I care about is making sure he doesn’t live long enough to poison the Sprawl more than he already has.”
A murmur emerged from the stands. I gazed across the way to see the three representatives huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Aria stepped towards her microphone.
“What you ask of us will likely mean the death of many of our people… we need something greater than what you offer—we need a guarantee of mutual aid—you have a reputation in the Sprawl, we would ask that you employ it in helping us when the time comes to resettle the Sprawl. Namely, we’d request your assistance against the gangs that may try to fill the power void you seek to create,” Aria explained.
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
Aria stepped back as Korvirex moved forward.
“Tell me, Red, are you familiar with the Offworlder Coalition?” Korvirex asked.
“I am—as a matter of fact, I aided them on the way here—they were marching against the Neo-Confederates and the Brown Shirts. I insured that they had the element of surprise.”
Korvirex stroked the beard-like tentacles that hung from his chin in contemplation.
“Good. What I ask is that you help us to secure their trust, we have offered solidarity where we could, but our forces are spread thin. The ideology of many of the exiled Vorrath rebels that found their way to Nova City—it matches that of our union. If our help was offered, would you agree to assist us in aiding the Coalition, so that they finally have an opportunity to get on their feet?”
Trodes leaned towards in, whispering in my ear.
“It would be prudent of you to make a counteroffer: proclaim that you’ll help with the Coalition, if they’ll spread the word to other groups whose goals may align with ours. There will likely be at least a couple hundred Harvesters in the Undercity when we strike… unless they’re occupied elsewhere.”
“I would happily help with the Coalition, on the condition that your faction spread the word about what we’re doing to like-minded organizations. As it stands, we could still use more numbers to match the Harvesters,” I said.
“These conditions may be satisfactory,” Korvirex said, before retreating into yet another group huddle.
The audience watched on in silence.
Finally, Diezel reapproached the microphone.
“The representatives have deemed this topic worthy of discussion: you’re free to leave, we’ll get ahold of Akari in a couple days, when all the details are ironed out.”
“A couple days?”
“Reaching a consensus can be a slow process at times—be prepared for a renegotiation of conditions, as there will likely be more stipulations made once the process is complete,” Diezel explained.
I nodded, and the platform beneath my feet began to descend towards the floor. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Hopefully Nico and Roman would beat us home

I'm located in Denver, Co, i graduated from CU Boulder 2021 Major in Econ. Minor in Business & Communication. Since then, I've worked as a waiter & software development Intern for my uncle's startup. Most of my passions lies with Full-Stack Web Development which i have only picked up in the last 2 years and am self-taught. But since most of my Background is in Econ / Finance i have a resume for entry-level financial analyst positions because i think that would be a good place to start. I also have a resume for computer science jobs but those seem much harder to land, on LinkedIn they often show over 200+ applicants resulting in me never hearing anything back. I have worked on my resume / cover letters tirelessly so i don't think that is the big issue, i think it's mostly my lack of experience which makes it hard to remain confident in my skills and less willing for employers to take a chance on me and teach me the ropes. Though my passion is with tech, i am really willing to start anywhere, i just want to get out of food service and into a more professional career to apply my technical and personable skills. Thanks in advance!